DISCLAIMER: The Wall-E universe does NOT belong to me (and it never will). The entire Wall-E universe belongs to Andrew Stanton and the Pixar company. And yes, Obvious SPOILERS! If you have not seen the entire film, I'd recommend you to see that first, then read this odd fanfic.

This is only a sneak peek of my full-out humanization fanfic. However, unlike Exist in Theory's tale, this is quite different, and it focuses my take on the now humanized Steward bots instead. All who have worked inconceivably hard for a good 700 years, with no praise given to them. Now, with the Autopilot (named Guerrero), impatiently watches Wallace (Wall-E) and Evelyn (EVE) dashing off to the Holo-detector to send in the plant. The unique non-human living matter is a token to the Axiom famous hyper-jump to Earth. Guerrero, possessed with his infamous A113 directive in his mind, is told by Forthwright to keep humanity alive (more like barely surviving), and have them never return to Earth, the said planet being to "unsustainable" to let life thrive. He then sends out the Stewards. Only, the units are now struggling to listen for the first time in 7 awful centuries... If you are curious about where this takes place in the actual film, it's here:

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The autopilot leers at the holographic screen portraying the path of Wallace's gang moving upwards. A blinking green dot leaving behind a trail of smaller similar dots. Closer to the Lido Deck. Closer to killing humanity…

"Not possible" the autopilot, Guerrero snarled. He impatiently tapped well-organized buttons on the control panel. All an orange-yellow color resembling an Epaulette. A call to the Steward units of the Axiom. As the buttons were simultaneously pressed, they glowed a bright blinding yellow.

The Stewards were either startled or confused about the familiar irritated voice of Guerrero calling out to them. Most were either arranging their items within their dens or straightening out their uniforms. Their puzzled heads turned to their intercoms vibrating weakly with the autopilot's frustrated tone.

Shockingly, only a few of the units prepared themselves for the wave of 'rogue humans'. Most of the Stewards either panicked with the uneasiness of the new possible movement or were having a rest on their poorly designed beds.

That was it for Guerrero. His jaw clenched in pure annoyance and let a small growl escape out of himself. He shoved his thumb on a small periwinkle button with a white thumbprint pattern. A non-touch screen button slowly rose from a hidden area on the control panel. An ugly dark purple item with a light gray shape of a wolf's running silhouette. With no hesitation, he slammed his entire palm on the wolf button. It instantly broke into shards weakly cutting Guerrero's flesh.

A small square hatch from chosen Steward dens opened. A transparent tiny syringe lowered towards the Stewards with a purple-periwinkle liquid inside. The Axiom units nervously yelped or flinched as the dark gray robot arm holding the syringe points the needle towards them. Some were either unconscious or unaware of the liquid-filled syringe close to them. The robot arm immediately plunges to the Stewards stabbing the needle in their open flesh. Whether it's their neck, exposed shoulder, or the hand that they used to swat the syringe away. If the sudden stabbing if the 1.5 cm (0.6 in) needle didn't hurt them, the harsh injection might. The robotic hand used its retractable thumb to insert the odd purple liquid into the Stewards' blood. The sudden vaccination only made a minority of the Stewards agitated, for the first several seconds when the robot arm retreated back to the ceiling. Some winced in pain. Some let a high pitched sound out of their throat sounding like a trapped dog. Stewards covered their tiny dot wound with their hand. Others looked around their ceiling confused. The rest either went back to their business or didn't react at all.

About half a minute afterward, all afflicted Stewards felt a brutal searing sensation in their bloodstreams. As if their vessels were set ablaze. Even with their strong pain-tolerance, they couldn't ignore the fiery burns in pulsating intervals with their heartbeats. Stewards unleashed an ear-splitting howl as the horrible stabbing pain transferred to their stomachs. For the first time in about 700 years, the Stewards felt starvation, real starvation. Their ribs would be easily shown through their torsos if it weren't for their uniforms. Each Steward pants heavily with sore throats and fogged minds. The units either fell out of their campy beds or collapsed onto their knees, drooling heavily. The Stewards lost their balance and orientation, not knowing which way was up or down. They clutched heavily onto their stomachs, lolling out their tongues like dogs. Most of the Axiom's guards retched loudly (sounding like juvenile burps). The remaining Stewards had their hands shot to their mouths as burning acidic vomit harshly ejected from their irritated stomachs. Ugly revolting acid leaked through their fingers and slithers down their arms. The Stewards spew up their artificial synthesized foods that they've consumed for decades on end. The Steward's stomachs continued to churn despite the vacancy.

It only took a few yet long agonizing minutes for the units to regain their sentience and deep self-discipline. The pain from their stomachs slowly ceased away, but their bottled-up rage flared up their blood. Their unrealistically long shifts. Little to no food given to them. Food always being manufactured with no nutritional value. The complete lack of care or praise was given to them no matter what good they did.

Their intercoms shook again barely holding in Guerrero's infuriated commands. He bellowed at them to quit acting weak. To finally capture all 'rouge humans.' However, they couldn't stand to hear his fury. His deafening words rattling the Stewards sensitive hearing.

"That's enough!" the autopilot finally roared. His patience, now non-existent for the units he once trusted to do their directives without question. Them, acting hesitant of doing a task as simple as stopping a group of sheer misfits. "I am not going to repeat myself. Capture those annoying people before they destroy humanity. I don't care if you were to slaughter them to death!" His rant finally discontinues by a dry husky cough, tiny sparse blood droplets staining his pure white pilot uniform. A mere smirk making its mark on his face as the Stewards finally assembled themselves. Ready to stop the nuisances, ready to kill!

All assigned Stewards dash out of their doors in an organized order. One at a time, out at precise time intervals. Their chests heaving irregularly with heavy loud hungry panting. Their eyes aggressive, bloodshot, irate, yet keen and concentrating. The Stewards who wore their headgear have their sirens activated, shine a blinding deep yellow. Their speakers, now supplied on their backs quake with a deafening police alarm blare. No matter how much sharp acidic pain sink into their hurt muscles, they continue. The Stewards know that their mouths can finally taste something besides fetid food. They can finally sink their teeth into true food, even if that happens to be Wallace's 'reject' group!

About a dozen Stewards hurry past the Axiom's nursery. Both their threatening wolf-like growls and the booming alarm startles the once little sleeping passengers. The mortifyingly obese tiny children instantly wake from their slumber, spit out their pacifiers and bawl out. The babies with the red jumpsuits flail their stubby appendages around helplessly.

The Stewards dash for kilometres tirelessly across the Axiom to the Human Highway. A few unfortunate unaware passengers in their plodding hoverchairs ramble on to their mind-numbing holographic screens. Possibly chatting about plans for the night or asking what they want to do (like usual). Deaf to the snarls of the malnourished Stewards. The light tan somewhat speckled leading Steward, bolts to a passenger, eyes locked. He grabs the headrest, instantly deactivating the holo-screen and the entire chair malfunctions. The plump passenger rolls out of his hoverchair, writhing around weakly. The leader darts off while some Stewards scrutinize the fallen person, eyeing him hungrily. Stewards pinned him to the ground perfectly while licking their dripping chops.

The passenger unleashes a horrified painful shriek as strapping young men submerge their teeth deep into his stout body. Stewards aggressively tear off and devour his flesh. Their faces, mouths, and uniforms are splattered messily with fresh blood. The unlucky victim slowly being consumed by at least 5 Axiom units. Only letting out dying yells for help. The Steward's muscular hands pry the multiple layers of fat off their now lifeless prey. Digging all the way to the minimal quality of muscles that laid practically useless to the sloth and lethargic passenger. They yank and gobble down the mere stings of muscle, disappointed. But they won't be for long.

The leader, Max Elizondo, continues to stun almost every passenger that he can reach. Stewards behind him each gradually obtaining their fresh fill, but none of the 40-ish units were yet sated.

Meanwhile, Guerrero gives out a quiet snicker while he observes the Stewards sprint towards the 'rouge humans'. Not bothered or disturbed by the heartless slaughtering of the Stewards. The autopilot ignores the annoying pounding of his door from below. The persevering Captain, hitting the door with his chubby nil fists.


"Guerrero! Get down here, you hear me?!" he shouted, obviously exhausted from so-called scolding the autopilot, with no progress. "Mutiny! Mutiny…" Captain McCrea puffed with little effort. A diminutive range of vocabulary blared out of the trapped obese Captain. He gives up hitting the door feebly, letting one last deep breath enter himself. "Spoiled son of a bitch," he muttered bluntly.


Stewards finally reach the somewhat vacant Human Highway. They disregard their itchy blood-splotched skin and their aching digesting stomachs. The units mercilessly snarled, growled, even hissed noisily to get other off-topic humans out of their wide path. The sprinters create a slight blood path behind them. The watchers yelped with alarm and immediately scamper far away from the hostile Stewards as much as possible. In an instant, holograms all over the Axiom begin to activate. The rogues slow down to a sudden stop, curious of the fired up screens in front of them. Simultaneously, Elizondo gives out a piercing "bark" to stop the remaining Stewards for only a mere second. He gestures with his right hand, waving his fingers like a bird's wing, to silence them. They prowl low, yet in haste like big cats stalking their prey. So lithely, and so professionally. The interested victims end up watching the working hologram screens, as the Stewards approach them soundlessly.

Static flickers the active Holograms for less than a second until a familiar anxious face fills the nano screens.

"H-hey, testing… is this working?" the Captain fiddles nervously with the camera, adjusting its angle. Light static washes over the screens at flickering intervals. All the rogues and others paused in their tracks as the Captain finishes arranging the wires and controls so the screen is clear of any interference. "Hey, this is the captain." McCrea started. He was whispering cautiously so the autopilot is unaware of his presence. His hands close to sides of his mouth, shaking slightly with uneasiness. The captain's eyes wide and darting with worry. "I am locked in my room." A few surviving passengers untouched by Elizondo's strength stare awkwardly at their holo-screens and the vast ones that surround them. Their faces contort from neutral to confusion.

'What is he talking about' a passenger thought to himself. 'What's with the whispering?' thought another. Various passengers mutter questions to themselves about the captain's random appearance. 'What's the big deal?' 'Who's that?' 'We had a captain?'

The aching of the Stewards' stomachs worsen. As if some invisible creature with unimaginably vast claws rakes the innards of their stomachs without letup. Despite their still existing starvation, they continued their stalking. Elizondo's heart briefly pauses as he finally eyes his victims, the annoying rogues. Just a few dekametres (or several yards) away. Staring at the screens, oblivious to their predators. "Tontos (Fools)" the leader thinks to himself. They slow to a mere stop, only metres away.

"Wallace, Evelyn, bring the plant to the Lido Deck." the captain grabs the so-called "Operate Manuel" showing the camera the proper page. A basic illustration of a plant being bought into the Lido Deck plant detector. Elizondo's sensitive hearing picks up heavy furious footsteps. Guerrero the autopilot. Others are still unaware of the Stewards presence, The intelligent leader raises his right hand to the Stewards behind him, three fingers in the air. 'It's almost time.' he gestures.

'Three…'

"I've activated the Holo-Detector!" The captain's anxiety surges and his voice raises to a normal volume above a whisper. Some watchers and more Stewards were able to hear the incoming footsteps. Tiny bullets of sweat started to drip down his face.

'Two…'

"Now hurry!" The captain's on the verge of yelling. He heard Guerrero's furious snarling only getting louder behind him. The autopilot's silhouette was now seen by almost all watchers.

'One…'

"Guerrero is probably going to- AAAUUGH!" The screen still activated shows the enraged autopilot. He grabs the Captain's shoulder with his teeth, biting down hard. Blood was already drawn out, staining the white BnL captain uniform. Guerrero aggressively clutches the captain's chunky arms with his powerful hands. Elizondo makes his right hand into a tightly balled fist, slamming down as soon as the screens cut off. All Stewards breathe in with flawless synchronization, about to shout their one worded infamous practiced line.

'NOW!'

"HALT!" All units let loose an ear-shattering roar. Trembling the Highway corridor and destroying the hearing of themselves and their close watchers. The Stewards gave cold irate stares to their targets. Their upper lips curled, exposing their blood-painted sharp row of teeth in sheer animosity. Elizondo, who's the most blood-boiling mad, takes a threatening step forward, only about 1.3 metres (or about 4.2 feet) in stride.

Their speakers activate, turning into a package-sized hologram carrier. A recognizable basic image is displayed on their screens. A bright red sign with a white right hand, palm facing the same direction as the Stewards, representing "stop".

While the other rogues and random watchers shudder like leaves in fear, Evelyn just lifts a brow in confusion. 'The Stewards are just, sitting there' she thought. 'What precise threat can they bring?' She waited only a few seconds for the Stewards to make their first move. All stood immobile, their intimating appearances seeming to be still in time. 'Nothing, just like I thought' she concluded. But in reality, the Stewards themselves were waiting for the rejects to make their move.

"Ha!" she scoffed. She charged her plasma gun and aimed it at Elizondo's heart. The leader heard the charging sound ringing his ears, and his heart thundered in his chest. By instinct, he leaps up to the Highway's ceiling like a valiant leopard. The plasma shot out of Evelyn's weapon, white-hot, and slicing the air. The shot badly misses Elizondo, but it does hit a nameless Delta Steward to his chest. The plasma dissolves his unprotected, and unclothed torso, corroding his exposed flesh. The deep shot annihilates his ribcage and the frontal plane areas of his upper vital organs. Instantly, blood rushes out of the shot Steward and pools. His red, torn innards were able to be visible for less than a second to his watchers. Lifeless, he collapses on his own remains, faceplanting.

A nameless Epsilon Steward appears to be unmoved by Evelyn's cruel move. He moves forward and stands on top of the fresh blood pool. "HALT!" he cries out. Inside, he is beyond nauseated of the iron-dense scent of the corpse. But he keeps his perseverance, and kill the rogues as he, and the others were told.

Elizondo springs off the ceiling (he clung onto it like it was a Ninja Warrior course) and heavily pounces on Evelyn. She loses her balance, falling backward. The EVE unit couldn't hold her usually exceptional balance with the leader's dense muscle mass and his velocity. The back of her head hits hard on the Highway floor, blacking her out.

"NOOO!" Wallace shrieks, seeing his love collapse to the floor. To the petrified, bruised non-Axiom worker's horror, he has to witness Elizondo chowing down his prey, Wallace's 'Evah.' His yelp cut off by a loud grumble of growling Stewards. Their deep cold hatred piercing into Wally's delicate soul. He barely moves a millimetre as athletic men with grey and light blue jackets or tuxedos tower and surrounds their wounded victim. Nowhere for him to go. Their snarling and bloodshot glares freeze him good. One move, he's gone.

The rejects flinch in pure shock as they observe the leader, then a Beta Steward guzzle up. They have never seen such orderly men act in the most animalistic and disordered way possible!

"I DON'T THINK SO!" a young voice cried out. Morris raises up his left arm triumphantly to the bloodthirsty Stewards, grasping onto his roller brush. The rejects finally found their courage to face these "animals of the Axiom". The microbe obliterator unit dashes to an Epsilon Steward, the other rejects follow.

Layla vigorously charges her defibrillators, feeling several sparks nip her face. She charges to a Beta Steward who tears up Evelyn's flesh.

"Clear" she hollered. The Beta Steward instantly turns to face the vigorous female unit. He only made himself more vulnerable to her. Her overcharged defibrillators electrocute the Steward, his jacket and shirt instantly disintegrate while his chest incinerates to a blackened char. His entire body weakly twitches around in discombobulated directions, the electricity scorching his nerves. Static flies around his overheated body. Layla deactivates the defibrillators, noticing the red discoloured flesh shriveling on the singed Steward. She recharged her electrifying defibrillators, seconds too late. A nameless Delta Steward unsheathes his claws in haste and rakes them deep inside of her back.

While Elizondo observes the yelping unit, he notices the unclaimed firearm, not far from his feet. The Alpha snatches Evelyn's plasma rifle, and strikes it to the ground, shattering it to minuscule bits.

Jasper hastily lugs his vacuum over just a few metres away from distracted Stewards, chomping on Lennard's flesh. He pushes certain buttons causing his machine to make unusual electronic whirring noises. He immediately caught the attention of an Omega Steward, who had a nice chunk of skin in his mouth like a wolf.

The VAQ-M unit flinches at the sight, and darts off, at the best time. The noisy contraption eventually gushes out filthy contaminated dust. Certain Stewards were shaken by the foul tainted air. Some coughed violently, choking up blood. The affected ones' eyes stung, nostrils bled, and lungs becoming soiled pouches of filth. Morris, only a few metres away is screaming mad at Jasper. Him being covered in both Steward vomit, and now surrounded by annoying "foreign contaminants". Unfortunately, most of the Stewards are untouched by Jasper's move. Their lungs immune to dense contamination. Their focus no longer on the foxy unit, but on the weakest. The one who has the plant.

Four Stewards clench their jaws while running and growling at vulnerable Wallace. The non-Axiom unit lets out a quick high pitched cry. He curls himself up, embracing for his own doom.

At the very last minute, Bryce uses his umbrella as a heavy weapon. He brutally whacks the four Stewards away from Wallace. A Steward's head got hit so hard, his neck completely broke. The remainders are flung a few metres far from the rejects, their backs heavily hitting the walls. Before they could recover, they met their fates by the needle-like pole being gored repeatedly into their chests.

Bryce's victory becomes short-lived as several other Stewards snatch his umbrella from him. They imprudently shred the parasol, a careless Omega having one of the umbrella's "ribs" ran through his arm. A nameless Alpha angrily pounces on stunned Bryce from the back. His entire breath escapes his lungs as his torso slams to the ground.

He struggles to inhale. He could only make gestures. The Alpha's dense muscular body weighs down on his windpipe. The dizzy BRL-A unit signs Wallace the HAN-S unit next to him. The last weapon towards the Stewards. Devon gives his innermost efforts to not make noticeable movements. The Taming Collar strangles the boxer's neck like a cruel viper. Wallace weakly moves himself to face the struggling man with the choker. Wally soundlessly indicates the restrained unit to stay still (which was beyond difficult for him to do). He took out his red-hot laser and aimed it at his collar, not his neck. The laser slices through the collar's 2 cm (less than an inch) metal. Electric flares erupt and the entire collar malfunctions. Devon's heart thunders in his chest, finally feeling, and being free! He knew exactly what to do. What he urged to do for the past few hellish minutes. Completely demolish the Stewards.

The relentless HAN-S unit rushes himself towards the Stewards. His innermost energy being literally unleashed. He was so overjoyed at being unrestrained, he forgot about his stinging wounds. The unaware units have their appendages and bodies mangled, ruptured and severed to bits. Soon, the Hallway was packed with shrill cries of pain from once merciless units.

Jackets, tuxedos, shorn clothes, supplies, and Steward sections were carelessly tossed around from the hyperactive unit. During his rampage, Elizondo clings himself to the ceiling, concealed from the killer's sight. To his fortune, Betas and several Stewards finally contain him and let their original victims free. The Steward victims slathered with wounds and gashes. They have the HAN-S worker on his stomach while pinning down his shuddering arms and legs. A couple of units even clutch onto the temperamental man's hair. Elizondo and his Stewards know that the others are beyond too weak to fight back. He lets go of the ceiling, landing flawlessly. He stands up, his cut-up body well aligned. The fearless Alpha retains his composed posture while he glowers at the wounded rejects. He curled his upper lip again, even loosening his jaw. His face contorts to resentful mockery to the Axiom's "heroic" rejects. He's fixedly aware of one thing. He has won.

"You fools hate losing, I see." he snarled. He growls proudly, satisfied with his victory. It was all over for the defectives. He turned away, sneering to himself hearing Devon's suffering and the sound of skin being torn.

Elizondo eventually directs the surviving Stewards to follow him, to retreat to their dens. Only nine Stewards, the survivors, obeyed.

Devon pounds his broken fists to the ground in defeat. He recoils at the metal collar shards burying his neck. He couldn't breathe comfortably without cringing at the fragments biting him.

Dense blood blankets the entire Human corridor, whether it belonged to the Stewards or the rejects. However, none of it belong to one benign unit. The rambunctious VN-GO unit, Xander. All the wounded rejects whimper with pain, including the rigorous EVE unit. Almost everyone winces at the deep stabbing pain of cut-open gashes and Steward bites. Some were so heavily afflicted that they couldn't move. Wallace shudders while noticing the dark sight of his lovely smothered with scarring injuries. Her once elegant flawless skin ruptured with pulsating red wounds. He weakly lifted a brow puzzled as he hears muffled footsteps growing in volume. He let out a startled noise as he watches Xander charge relentlessly towards the Stewards.

The young painter had little to no gashes compared to the other rejects. He slightly limps towards the Stewards, blood dripping down from his lacerations.

The group barely made it a dekametre away from the carnage before they were able to make a reaction. Xander instantly plunges his teeth into a nameless Epsilon's scruff. The other Stewards pause in alarm, noticing that their victory wasn't permanently lived. The shrill yell splits the ears of the Stewards and seethes their blood. Elizondo could merely make an action before Xander mutilates the body of the young Epsilon unit. His flesh cleanly shredded and his bones and veins ruptured. The Alpha commands four Stewards to asphyxiate his windpipe and the remainders to keep the defectives "on hold". Other Alpha and Beta Stewards taunt the rejects with loud snarling and threats to kill them.


So, there you have it. My first published fanfiction. (On this site really). Not much to be dead honest, I know, but I will keep updating with more as soon as I can. If you have any questions, or bits of confusion about this. Don't be afraid to say so. I can take it!

Note! When I say 'nameless' I do not really mean that the Steward lacks a name, I mean that I didn't name that specific Steward yet.

UPDATED SOME MORE AT 4/9/2018 Fourth of September.

In case you are wondering who's who here's the human names and the units they portray.

Wallace - WALL-E

Evelyn - EVE

Morris - M-O

Jasper - VAQ-M

Xander - VN-GO

(Maxwell) Elizondo - SECUR-T

Layla - D-FIB

Bryce - BRL-A

Guerrero - AUTO

Devon - HAN-S

Lennard - L-T

Terrible news, I am no longer working on this story. It was a fun concept, but creativity was not my friend while making this. I am brutally sorry. But I may make other tiny sneak peeks, just not a full story.