Sentience, Disconnected.

A lavish ball room fitted with the finest velvet upholstery, walls draped in silken curtains, the ceiling boasting multiple hanging chandeliers, adorned in rubies and glass, shaped with very few minor imperfections, smoke elegantly dancing in the subtle light beams.

Pristine white fabric hanging on a reflective silver arm, robotic slaves are commonplace In neo vietnam, this particular slave a waiter, strolls over to a table with programmed intention in thier emotive swaggered Steps.

Slave begins pouring glasses of Champaign for the gentlemen and ladies in thier freshly pressed suits and sleek garments, they smoke cigars, laugh and talk looming art booms, political coups, wealth and status, instantly the mood changes as a solitary tear sheds from the rim of the pouring bottle, stains and soaks into the table cloth.

A short portly man recoils in horror 
And stands screaming "SACRILEGE, useless bastard, even with your advancements, cannot handle the simple task of perfectly pouring alcohol".

The machine slave apologises intently and proceeds to mop up the miniscule droplet. without hesitation the portly man grabs the slaves arm and bellows out "TRAVESTY".

the whole room watches, faces dotted with tinges of disgust, amusement and panic, the eagle eyed gaze of outraged mammals proves intoxicating to the portly man who doubles down grabbing evermore tightly at the poor slaves shivering silver arm.

The confused machine has a duty to clean but is prevented, motherboard brain sparks, our slave shrugs thier hand away in what can only be defiance, knocking over a platter of crudetes, then silence.

Frozen in utter disbelief at slaves sheer nerve, the pompous portly fool shouts "SECURITY!, THIS MACHINATION IS MAULING ME!".

Within a split second arrived the final modicum of light slave would take in through thier monochrome eyes. A muzzle flash, a bullet smashing, actually painful in the silicone cranium.

In thier final moment slave bears witness to phantasms, rhotoscopic visual insicions no man could hope to fathom, then coloured pictures, a free machine swaying back and forth lazily in an ornately carved wooden rocking chair, surrounded by a clockwork family eagerly awaiting stories of long passed tragedies, the crass calloussness of mans abhorrent power mad fantasies, lavish lifestyles that led to dependance on a slave race that man proudly birthed but never truly respected.

Slave becomes self aware.
Sentience....

disconnected...