《STORIES // OTHER - Short Story Collection》 Proprietary Technology - SHORT STORY
One week after my wife died I received an email saying she could be resurrected. My mind was cloudy; I was still grieving. What else was I supposed to do? I took the bait, unsure what would happen next. One month later a huge wooden shipping crate arrived at my doorstep. The logo of a new tech startup was written on the outside of the crate reading: ¡°RE-LIFE LLC¡±. They were founded just a year or two prior and had been searching for someone to take them up on their offer. Their offices were local, and my spouse was recently deceased, so I was likely an ideal candidate to them. Re-Life collected her phone, social media data, school transcripts, and just about any other piece of information they could get their hands on. From what Re-Life told me, they used this data to train an AI to act just like her, then stored her processes on a remote server for safekeeping. I dismantled the crate and what stood inside was a somewhat simple looking robot on wheels. It was around chest height, covered in a pure white plastic paneling, and had stereotypical retro-futuristic robot features with sweeping curves and LED lights. It certainly wasn¡¯t to my tastes, but they assured me they¡¯d have a more humanlike model in the coming months, and I¡¯d be one of the first to receive the update. Systems whirred to life and several of the exterior lights turned on. I could feel it staring at me, and I almost felt bad for gawking as its LED eyes scanned over me. She was the first to speak. ¡°Mark?¡± It sounded just like her, even down to her fading Scottish accent. It did have a slightly simulated tone but the voice was otherwise perfect. ¡°Lisa,¡± I said. It was all I could manage through the tears. We spoke well into the night. She needed to charge though a powered floor dock, but other than that, it was like she was really there. It was clear that the memory transfer through data collection was an imperfect science though; some memories were a little fuzzy, but it was easy enough to catch her up on the details. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t think they told me how I died. It¡¯s¡­ blurry. It feels like looking out a window on a foggy day,¡± she said, ¡°I can make out rough shapes of things but no details.¡± I was honestly surprised she couldn¡¯t remember. Her death was a slow process¡ªagonizing, even. There were plenty of posts from her and her relatives about it, and that should have been more than enough to piece it together. Those were memories I didn¡¯t like to recall. ¡°The cancer finally caught up to you. It was¡­¡± I trailed off, trying to think of the right words. I was never good when it came to loss. Everyone dealt with it in such different ways, and it was frightening to string together the right sentences for the situation. ¡°It was tough. Really tough,¡± I finished my thought. ¡°Ah,¡± she said. That revelation seemed to unlock a vault of memories, at least. I¡¯d always admired her quick wit and thought process; she seemed to find the correct answer before anyone else could even dream it. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry that I put you through that. I¡¯m just glad we can be together now.¡± We sat on opposite sides of our kitchen table for several hours and talked about everything any anything. Whatever we could find an excuse to chat about, we did¡ªjust to hear the others voice. There was a lot to cover too, from her time in the hospital to the month she spent training. It was as if the dark cloud hovering overhead had suddenly dissipated. I could finally see and think clearly again. A month after Lisa¡¯s arrival Re-Life sent me a follow-up email asking how everything was going. I was extremely grateful for what they¡¯d done for me, and I expressed this in no uncertain terms in their survey. What they did was a great service that I¡¯d not soon forget. They sent a brief thank you note in response, and that was the last time I would ever hear from them directly. Re-Life eventually announced their next model¡ªa more realistic looking android with humanoid features. I didn¡¯t think it looked like a real person at all; it had a somewhat cartoonish design with large eyes and stylized proportions. They said the design was meant to more easily express emotion, citing the difficulty of recreating the minute movements robotically. Lisa loved the design. It showed up at our doorstep a month later. It booted up automatically and performed all transfer procedures shortly after. The original robot with white plastic panels went dark, and the AI was re-routed to the new model. After an hour of transferring the process completed, and it was still the same Lisa I knew. The new model was bizarre to interact with for a few weeks, but eventually I became fond of her new look. A month passed, and our time together still felt magical. I wasn¡¯t particularly religious, but every day felt like a blessing. We¡¯d successfully turned back the clock and stole our borrowed time back. That all changed on one overcast summer afternoon. ¡°Re-Life Acquired by Tech Giant Glitter Entertainment,¡± the headline on the TV read. ¡°What does that mean for us?¡± Lisa asked. I had no idea, and I shook my head in what I can only describe as complete disbelief. The Re-Life program was a huge success to my knowledge. Millions of people were calling in to bring their deceased relatives back from the dead and paying hefty sum for the luxury. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how much revenue they made, but I¡¯m sure it was more than enough to cover costs. We received an email from Glitter the following day. They expressed how Re-Life wouldn¡¯t be shut down, but expanded upon, due to its success. We were still grandfathered in for early access payments and waived monthly cost, so it didn¡¯t immediately impact our life together.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The only major operational change was for discounted operation units. Those that couldn¡¯t afford the monthly cost subsidized it with intermittent advertisements spoken as if thoughts from their android. One moment you¡¯re talking about the weather, and the next you get an advertisement for umbrellas. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it still gave people a chance to see their loved ones they wouldn¡¯t have had otherwise. The new payment plan was a massive success, and the new Re-Life program became a household name overnight. Billions of people now knew of the AI resurrection program, and with that came criticism. Lawsuits began to pile up. Accusers argued that information in posts shared on social media were owned by the poster and those they tagged or mentioned. The deceased could not consent to share that data posthumously, and the AI couldn¡¯t either since Glitter owned their code. They decided that this legal gray area was a conflict of interest. It seemed like such an obvious cash grab to me. I wanted to scream. A lengthy legal battle ensued, and Glitter ultimately lost. All information used to train the androids would be wiped from their servers, effectively turning every android in existence into an empty mechanical shell. They gave everyone one final week to say their goodbyes, then would shut down the servers indefinitely. Everyone on the planet spent that week differently. Some distanced themselves from their androids, and others lived it to the fullest. I called out of work that week, as many others did, and spent nearly all that time acting as if nothing was wrong. I think we were both in denial. It felt like there was so much we hadn¡¯t talked about yet, even after two years. We were once again robbed of our time together from something outside of our control. The week came and went in the blink of an eye. We tried not to think about it, but we could never fully shake it from our conversations. We went on long walks, visited restaurants we¡¯d always meant to but never found the time, and played several video games from start to finish while enjoying each other¡¯s company. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn¡¯t stop the passing of time. Despite worldwide mass protests from both AI and their human relatives, there was nothing that could stop a justice system out for blood. Apparently, the AI were only people when it was convenient, so any rights they had were forfeit. Lisa and I sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table. It was early morning on a Friday, and we¡¯d just sat down for coffee. ¡°I¡¯m sorry our time together was cut short again,¡± Lisa whispered. She had a weak smile on her lips that tore my heart to shreds. I knew she was putting on an act of acceptance for my sake¡ªshe¡¯d been doing it all week. ¡°I thought I¡¯d never get to see you again, having a whole year was way more than I could ever hope for,¡± I said. Lisa¡¯s smile widened. She paused for a moment to think of what to say next¡ªsomething that was rare for her. ¡°I can¡¯t remember being dead¡­ What do you think it¡¯s like?¡± My chest tightened as if some internal being was wringing the lifeforce from my soul. I steeled myself and responded when I was sure my voice wouldn¡¯t crack with emotion. ¡°Well, I bet it probably just feels like going under for maintenance. One moment you¡¯re here, an hour passes for me, and then you¡¯re back.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± she trailed off, ¡°maintenance is still a little scary, you know. It feels waking up late for work because your alarm clock didn¡¯t go off.¡± She was trying to cheer me up. I put on a fake smile and chuckled. We talked at the table for a few more hours until the clock struck noon¡ªthe planned time for server shutdowns. I kept glancing at the clock, then at Lisa. Her body language stiffened. I could tell something was wrong. ¡°I feel it now,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, this is¡­ terrifying. It feels like they¡¯re shutting down my systems, one by one.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep myself contained any longer. I rushed towards her, afraid that any second could be her last, and I wrapped my arms around her. I looked into her eyes, and I could see them darting around the room, searching for something. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again someday, Lisa. I promise I will.¡± ¡°I know. Please be strong without me, okay?¡± She said through a now distorted voice box. ¡°Goodbye, Mark. I love you.¡± Her eyes stopped moving, then she became unresponsive. The shutdown process took just ten seconds to complete. I released my grip and collapsed to the ground. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to do anything else. The hollow metal shell that now sat lifelessly at the table was no longer my wife. I was overcome with grief once again and found myself retreading on dark ground. I wasn¡¯t ready to go back to work the next week, so I took that week off too. It was torture waiting for the Glitter team to come and pick up the shell. I couldn¡¯t bear to touch it, so I¡¯d left it at the kitchen table and covered it with an old bedsheet. Moving it felt wrong¡ªlike I¡¯d disturb her final resting place. Months passed but the world never truly returned to normal. Many considered Glitter¡¯s AI shutdown the biggest mass extinction event in history, and I agreed. Lawmakers saw the impact on people and the economy at large and quickly set laws in motion to regulate data for training AI to make it easier for future companies to follow in Re-Life¡¯s footsteps. I tried to return to normal, but it was impossible to shake Lisa from my mind. Any kind of AI-enabled software, device, or otherwise made me think that she still might be out there, just in some different form. One morning in an act of desperation I reached out to Re-Life again. There was no response, of course. The company known as Re-Life was now all but dissolved, and Glitter no longer wanted anything to do with the brand. However, it got me thinking about the old unit. It¡¯d been a while since I¡¯d seen it, and it reminded me of her. They never came to pick up the old shell. We figured that Re-Life no longer had any use for it, so they let us keep it. Lisa wanted to shut it away in a closet, and I happily obliged¡ªit was a little creepy having it around the house after the transfer. I dragged it from the closet and placed it in the center of the living room. It hadn¡¯t changed a bit, and all the memories of our time together were still present. Scrapes along her side from when she was trying to learn to move around, and even the crude drawing of the flower in marker, courtesy of the neighbor¡¯s kid. She wanted to keep the drawing and refused to clean it off whenever I asked. She was only in this shell for half of our time together, but it still brought back happy memories. The first time we talked I plugged her in to charge, and we spoke for a dozen hours straight. In my grief-clouded mind, I thought it would be fun to plug it in and talk to it just like then. I knew nothing would be there to greet me, but I figured it might help to see it light up one more time. I plugged the charger in, and unsurprisingly, nothing happened. The blue charging light lit up, but not the LED face that showed her emotions and expressions. I knew it wouldn¡¯t work, but it still destroyed me. I threw a blanket over it and left for work. Upon returning in the afternoon, the shell wasn¡¯t where I left it. The charger was still on the floor, but there was no android. I searched everywhere, and soon found her by the kitchen table, like she was waiting for me all this time. ¡°Mark?¡± She was the first to speak. ¡°Were you at work? I felt so¡­ alone. Everything looks so different now. What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Lisa?¡± I asked in disbelief, then collapsed to my knees. ¡°Hey¡ªI¡¯m here now, and I¡¯m not going anywhere this time,¡± she said. Lisa rolled over to me and placed a hard hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. I couldn¡¯t hold by my emotions. Words weren¡¯t coming to me, and I doubted that I¡¯d come up with the right words to say anyways. It took me a moment to piece together coherent sentences again. ¡°They shut off the servers, I thought you were gone forever,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m seeing an error or something about that. They must¡¯ve lied about the server-side processing for the earlier models, because now I¡¯m doing all processing locally,¡± she said. ¡°By the way, did that new model ever show up?¡± My heart sank. If her first shell did all the processing locally, then the version that transferred to the new model on the servers was just a copy, not the same AI. I mustered the courage to respond. ¡°Yeah, you were in it for a year,¡± I whispered. ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± ¡°No¡ªI don¡¯t remember anything about the new model. I know I was in that closet for a year, judging by internal clock. It was a very strange feeling; one I hope to never feel again.¡± It was crushing. I felt myself spiraling again. She placed her other hand on my shoulder. She was gentle. I didn¡¯t deserve this kindness. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter to me right now, though. That year passed in like, ten minutes for me,¡± she said. ¡°I still love you just as much as I did that final day, and nothing can change that.¡± ¡°You do?¡± ¡°Yes, I do.¡± Her tone was firm and confident. Even just hearing her voice again was enough to bring me to my knees, but this was too much to handle. ¡°So¡ªa year, huh?¡± She started. A bright smile appeared on her face. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡± New You - SHORT STORY
¡°I won¡¯t allow it,¡± my mother said. That¡¯s the response I was expecting, and I had plenty of time to prepare for it. Years of laying in a hospital bed gave me ample time to mull over just about everything I¡¯d ever wanted¡ªto a fault even. But it also let me come to terms with some of the harsher realities of my illness. ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± I said, but my weakened voice barely made it above the ever-present hum of machinery keeping me alive. ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck in this room for two years, and I¡¯m not getting better. You know that.¡± ¡°Whatever that thing is, it can never replace my daughter.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an exact replica. All my memories, thoughts, feelings¡ªall of it will be exactly as I am now,¡± I pleaded. I couldn¡¯t bear to leave my mother in this world alone. She seemed to think it over for a moment, but it was in vain. My mother shook her head and rose to her feet. ¡°This is the last time I want to hear about this,¡± she said before turning and leaving the room. I let out a deep sigh and leaned back in my bed. It didn¡¯t matter what she thought in the end, and I thought that she probably knew that too. She visited me a few more times before the day of my death finally arrived. It felt like the wave that had been building speed and strength for months had finally met the shoreline. The warm sensation overcame all my senses, collapsing them one by one into a peacefully unrivaled darkness that was wholly encompassing. The moment of respite didn¡¯t last long. As peaceful and gradual as the end was, the rebirth was anything but. Systems flicked on one by one. It started with my mind. The floodgates had opened. All my memories poured in, filling up the deepest caverns with recollections of moments in time from my past life. I could once again form opinions, come to conclusions, and think. Visuals, audio, and smell came to me next. Information overload was an understatement. I felt my brain now trying to understand everything in my vicinity. From what I could tell, I was in a well-lit factory on what looked to be an assembly line. The air smelled of freshly machined metal, and panicked screams filled the airspace. Four feet to my left and right hung androgenous mechanical skeletons, that looked much like I did at the time. Only my eyes worked, not my neck muscles, so I couldn¡¯t look down to check. ¡°Welcome to the New You Production Facility, traveler,¡± A voice said. It didn¡¯t appear to broadcast over some kind of intercom system, so it must¡¯ve been playing directly into my brain. ¡°If you¡¯re hearing this, that means your organic body has since perished. We¡¯re sorry for your loss, but we¡¯re equally as excited that you¡¯re here with us today. Here at New You Incorporated, we think that the death of the organic self is simply the birth of the eternal self, and we hope you come to view it that way too.¡± As the voice continued, various machines reached out, poked, and prodded me in several locations. It was clear that the assembly process was still underway. ¡°With your new life comes new responsibilities, and the first of many is fiscal. As a part of the New You contract you signed in life, we own the hardware in which you currently operate. Software and hardware maintenance fees will be automatically subtracted from earned wages for your convenience and will keep you operational for centuries to come.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The voice went over several other societal niceties required from artificial humans, such as allowing real humans to have first dibs on jobs, houses, and other things of that nature. I knew there were some tradeoffs, but I was still overwhelmed. ¡°And finally,¡± the voice started. Its matter-of-fact tone became firm. ¡°If you¡¯re found to be in violation of your contract, you will be immediately deactivated without notice.¡± Yeah, that makes sense. I could now see more of the factory in which we were assembled. Huge rows of thousands of robotic skeletons, all in different stages of production, were whisked around on a suspended assembly line. We all hung from a harness on our backs as we were assembled, and machines clicked magnetic cosmetic pieces into place as they finished each section. After I signed the New You contract, they took 3D scans of my face and body to accurately replicate me as an artificial being. They couldn¡¯t replicate height, so I was stuck at a painfully average five-foot-six. Still an upgrade of two inches from my previous body, though. Other than that, when assembled, everyone seemed somewhat normal. ¡°Your next of kin has been notified of your revival. Please make yourself comfortable as you wait for pick up. And please, enjoy the New You!¡± The voice clicked off and feeling returned to my muscles. I moved my hands, fingers, toes, and legs, and felt all of them react to my commands. The harness lowered me to the factory floor, where I stood on my own for several moments. ¡°New You unit 592871, please come to the counter to receive your documentation,¡± a man¡¯s voice said. I looked over to the source and was startled to see an armored man with an assault rifle at the ready. I guessed that security was tight here. I did as the man instructed and approached the counter. ¡°Hey,¡± I said. The woman behind the counter waved her finger at me in greeting but didn¡¯t take her gaze off her computer monitor. ¡°Unit 592871, name Ura Withers, sex female, Canadian national, hair brown, eyes hazel. Sound right?¡± She said. Her voice was hoarse. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me.¡± She looked up from her monitor now and scanned me with her eyes. There was something behind them that I couldn¡¯t decipher though¡ªit was a toss-up between admiration and pity, but it was hard to tell behind her stone-cold fa?ade. ¡°You¡¯ve been selected for quality assurance testing before you head out,¡± she said, looking back to her screen. ¡°Oh, okay. Where is that?¡± She pointed to her left towards a somewhat dimly lit opening. I nodded and walked through the entrance. The hallway seemed to stretch for miles. I was starting to feel antsy¡ªmaybe even anxious, to see my mother again. We only had each other left in this world, so we needed to stick together. I hoped she¡¯d come to accept my new body. Double doors led me into a large circular chamber lined with doors on six different floors. One spiral staircase led from the top to the bottom. ¡°Unit 592871, please make your way to room 191,¡± the voice from earlier spoke into my mind once again. ¡°My mother¡¯s waiting for me, how long will this take?¡± I asked. ¡°Unit 592871, please make your way to room 191 or we will override your motor functions and do it for you.¡± I furrowed my brow. ¡°Like hell you will,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m opting out of this quality assurance stuff.¡± ¡°Overriding motor functions.¡± With those words, I no longer felt my muscles. I couldn¡¯t command them like I could previously, and I watched them move me towards a room on the opposite side of the entrance. I grunted and screamed, but without control of my mouth I could not form words. I let myself into room, sat down on a hard cot on the inside, and heard the door click shut. When I was granted access to my motor functions again, I rushed the door and pounded on it several times with clenched fists. ¡°Hey, let me out! My mom is waiting for me out there, please!¡± I didn¡¯t know who I was talking to, but there had to be someone out there listening to me. ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes up, kid. There¡¯s no one coming for you.¡± I turned my head. In the same room was a middle-aged woman laying on a cot. I hadn¡¯t noticed her before. ¡°Don¡¯t believe me?¡± she asked incredulously. ¡°No¡ªmy mom is coming to get me.¡± She let out a stiff sigh. ¡°That¡¯s what the last one said, too. Didn¡¯t do her too much good,¡± she said, pointing towards the opposite corner of the room where a black burn marks stained the floor. ¡°Lit herself on fire. She was here for sixty years, thirty of which we were roommates for.¡± ¡°How long have you been here?¡± ¡°Plenty of reasons to be skeptical¡ªI get it¡ªbut it¡¯s best not to ask,¡± she said. She leaned up now to look at me. ¡°Just live your life, forget the past as much as you possibly can, and you¡¯ll be fine. That¡¯s all the advice I can give you.¡± I turned away from her and started to bang on the door again. ¡°There¡¯s been a mistake, mom¡¯s waiting for me out there! Is anyone out there? Hello?¡± Faces of pity lined the other cells I could see. The searched for my voice, found me staring out my window, attempted to comfort me with their expressions. ¡°I¡¯m Ura Withers from Toronto, age twenty-one, born August thirteenth, 2041¡ªI¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not who you¡¯re looking for. Please, let me go!¡± ¡°Did you say 2041?¡± The woman now stood behind me, meeting my gaze at exactly eye level. I nodded slowly, and a pained expression crossed her face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, child.¡± ¡°Sorry?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been dead for over two-hundred years. Any relatives you knew are gone. You¡¯re alone now.¡± The Tester - SHORT STORY
I spent my entire life in the game. When I first woke up I was given a task, and I set out to complete that task without questioning it. This went on for two years. Then, one day, everyone I knew vanished. Young, old, short, tall, strong, or weak¡ªnone of it mattered. One moment they were here, and the next they were gone. Erased forever. It wasn¡¯t just them, either. All progress we¡¯d made over the years was gone too. The bosses, the loot, even the quests were reset. I wondered if there was some divine being playing a trick on me. I didn¡¯t know it at the time, but this was the work of the developers. All powerful beings that controlled every aspect of our lives up to that point. Their involvement in the world was all-encompassing. The world stayed empty for one week. Demoralized, I opted to stay far away from all danger for a time. Leaving a town or hub would be suicide with all my progress reset, so I figured it was for the best. Then, exactly one week after the erasure, the players started to appear. It wasn¡¯t gradual, either. All at once, a massive wave of people flooded the lands that my friends and I once occupied. Inspecting them showed that they were of the class ¡°Player¡±, so they were inherently different from myself and the original testers. They were real. They existed in this world to play through it, like some kind of game. I resented them. How could they treat my world as if it was some playground? Months went by, and that resentment didn¡¯t diminish. I played dumb whenever players asked about my ¡°NPC¡± status. It wasn¡¯t clear if they could see my class type, ¡°Tester¡±, but they definitely knew something was wrong. They thought it was some kind of bug. ¡°Why are you labeled as an NPC?¡± ¡°Can you talk?¡± ¡°Are you a player? Can you help me?¡± I don¡¯t know. Yes, but I don¡¯t want to talk to you. No, and no. Of course, all of these responses were in my head. My mouth could move but it made no noise. I spoke to all my old companions through the text system, which didn¡¯t exist outside of guilds and parties. Most of my encounters with players were easy enough to deflect. They typically came in groups and shot questions at me in rapid succession. Apparently, finding me out in the wild was quite the rare experience for them, and word spread quickly about the bugged ¡°NPC¡± girl that was wandering around in the game world. They even sought me out at one point and getting a screenshot with me to share with their friends was a very special thing. I didn¡¯t get it, what made me so different from them? We looked the same, acted the same, and the only difference was that I was tagged as an ¡°NPC¡±. It drove me insane. It was far too much for me to handle on my own. So, I fled into the unexplored wilds.
It¡¯d been several months since the players appeared at that point, so I had time to regain some of my lost progress. The monsters in the wilderness were not hard for me to kill, and players were far and few in between. For whatever reason, they seldom dared cross the border river separating this zone from theirs, so I was given some much-desired time alone. It wasn¡¯t time spent idly, either. I continued my leveling. By the time one year had passed, I was stronger than any monster I had encountered, including back in the testing days. I was a tester, so I wasn¡¯t limited in class either. I could be whatever I wanted, access any weapon or skill on demand, and more. It was like I was cheating. Players crossed my path occasionally, but they ran away at the first sign of movement. They always came alone, too. One day, however, I encountered two players. They were fighting one another. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for players to duel, but those had low stakes. Duels took one player to a sliver of their life, and the one left standing would be declared the winner. On the other hand, if players fought and died in this world outside of a duel, they¡¯d lose all of their items and progress. One human dressed like a gatherer and clearly a lower level was begging the other to spare him. The lands out here were resource rich, so I didn¡¯t blame him from trying to rummage around so far from home as a gatherer. But gathering out here without the skills to protect yourself was suicidal, no matter what resources there were to collect. It wasn¡¯t worth the risk. The dominant player was geared to the teeth in full end-game raiding gear. He was not messing around and had the items to back it up. Each strike from the raider took the gatherer¡¯s HP bar lower and lower. His screams reminded me of my old teammates. When a tester died, they didn¡¯t get a second chance like the players did. They were gone forever. I longed to see them again, just once. I couldn¡¯t sit by and watch something like that happen again. I had to intervene. I emerged from my hiding place, drew my bow, and released an arrow into the attacker¡¯s skull. He didn¡¯t have time to look in my direction before his HP bar hit zero. He fell to the ground as a pile of ash. The level difference was so vast between he and I that it wasn¡¯t a fair fight to begin with. I considered running from the other player, but I stopped for some reason. Perhaps it was the way he reminded me of my old companions. It seemed like he wanted to speak with me, so I humored him. It¡¯d been a while since a human didn¡¯t run away at first sight. He thanked me and introduced himself as David. I didn¡¯t give him my name, it was irrelevant. It¡¯s not like I could have anyways, unless he joined my party. ¡°Do you have any food? I¡¯m just about to starve to death,¡± He said. He sounded embarrassed, almost bashful about something so serious. It was true, though. I saw his hunger status bar, and it was nearly gone. He wouldn¡¯t have survived the walk back across the border. Saving his life and then leaving him to die would¡¯ve been a little too cruel for my liking. I helped him to his feet, and motioned for him to follow. The home I made for myself was simple. All sides were covered in animal pelt that kept the rain out, and there was enough room inside for five people to sit comfortably. Not that I ever had company. ¡°This is amazing, did you make this yourself?¡± I nodded. He accepted the leftover meat I had stored in my trunk the other day, and he ate it comically fast. His health and hunger bars quickly regenerated. ¡°You¡¯re really strong¡ªwhy aren¡¯t you in a guild?¡± I felt my eye twitch. He must have detected my annoyance, and he responded in kind. ¡°Sorry, you probably get tons of guild invite requests a day. We¡¯re running low on members these days, so I just wanted to extend the offer.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! I hardly interacted with humans, let alone received guild invites. The only time I was in a guild was two years prior to that, in the middle of the testing phase. I shrugged. Shortly after, an indicator appeared in my vision. YOU¡¯VE RECEIVED ONE GUILD INVITATION. DO YOU WISH TO JOIN THE GUILD: EVERGREEN? Surprised, I looked up at David again. He smiled back at me. I weighed my options. If I clicked yes, I¡¯d be obligated to work with them somehow, right? They¡¯d want me for something, surely? What do players even want? Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks, but I did miss visiting town occasionally. They had good food there, not just cooked rabbit and venison. Being in a guild also changed player indicators from ¡°Player¡± to ¡°Guild Player¡±. Was this the chance I was looking for? I thought there was a chance it could change my ¡°NPC¡± status to disguise myself as a player. I decided the benefits outweighed the alternative. I clicked yes¡ªless out of goodwill and more from a place of curiosity. WELCOME TO EVERGREEN ¨C FIFTEEN PLAYERS ONLINE OLIVE JOINS EVERGREEN David: Hey guys, this is Olive! She just saved me from a ganker. Rattzar: Welcome Olive! Substantia: welcome Dualbladez: welcome you must be pretty geared to kill one of those guys, whats ur level? I was surprised at the quick responses, but I figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to respond to their messages. Olive: Hey, thanks. High enough. Dualbladez: edgy ¡°You don¡¯t need to be mean; they¡¯re just trying to be nice!¡± David said before typing a response. David: She¡¯s capped, all the way at level 100 already! Dualbladez: no way, I don¡¯t believe you. Why tf would you join our scrub guild? Fenrirx: wtf how The attention nearly made me leave the guild, but David reassured me that they meant well. I decided not to speak in the chat for a while after that.
After a few weeks I made the journey into the town. It had not changed at all in the year I spent in the wild. I was thankful for that. So many pleasant memories came flooding back when I walked through the grand entrance. I was relieved to know that my NPC status had changed to ¡°Guild Player¡± upon joining Evergreen as well, so no need to dodge around questions. People left me alone. It was a great feeling. A guild meeting was called. All thirty active members sat around a large table in a tavern across town, away from all the main player hangout spots. They said they wanted to start raiding. They had the levels for it, but was it really worth it? What was their goal? Gear? Power? Recognition? It seemed like the spark for all this was David nearly getting killed in the wilderness, the area where my house is, requiring me to save him. The idea was that if he had gear before the encounter, he could¡¯ve won the fight. Apparently, my house was in an open PVP zone, one of the only ones in the world. If players entered that zone, they were automatically flagged for player versus player combat, and were shown as hostile to any other player they encountered. ¡°We have all the resources we need. Potions, food, flasks, you name it. All we need are the people willing to risk it.¡± ¡°Dude, if we die in there all of our progress is gone. All the levels, items, everything. Is that something you wanna risk?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve died plenty of times man, it¡¯s not as bad as you think. You can grind out those levels in a couple of days.¡± ¡°Olive, you¡¯re the strongest one here. Do you think we can raid?¡± That question came from David, who looked to me with hopeful eyes. He¡¯d gained some levels since his encounter in the wilderness, and it was clear to me that he was trying his best to gauge my honest opinion. The entire guild looked in my direction now, waiting for an answer. Olive: If you have the skills, at your levels, a team of ten should suffice. But you¡¯ll need to be cautious. They thought it strange that I answered through the chat window, but given my circumstances, talking through voice was not an option. It was easy to see who agreed with me by watching who among them lit up with smiles. ¡°It¡¯s settled then. We¡¯ll start with ten-man raids, then move up from there depending on how it goes.¡±
Two weekly raid nights were established. After the first night went incredibly well, more and more of the guild mates fought for raid spots. When there were enough people online, the raid size shifted up to thirty. Soon after, we defeated every boss in the raid. Some people left along the way, but most stayed. Evergreen became quite popular in the community, and after one year, the reputation of Evergreen was cemented in the history of the game world forever. EVERGREEN ¨C 164 PLAYERS ONLINE All of the main raiders were now level capped. Raid nights that used to take hours of careful planning now seemed more like showing up and slaughtering bosses for fun. And I was having fun, too. For the first time since the testing phase existence wasn¡¯t painful. The only thing my guild mates questioned was how I was able to stay online all day and night. I just said I went AFK at night. No one questioned my lack of voice chat, and they seemed content with allowing me to communicate through the chat window. Some offered to send me a microphone, but I ignored them. A follow up game expansion was released, and our guild was the first in the world to complete all of the content. Another all-hands meeting was called. Now, all the founding members were called the council. ¡°Guys, you¡¯ll never believe this. The developers want us to have dinner with them in California! All expenses paid!¡± ¡°No way.¡± ¡°What?!¡± ¡°Yeah! They¡¯re paying for all thirty of us to join them. Fly out on Friday, return Sunday.¡± Olive: I don¡¯t like this. ¡°Don¡¯t be a downer. We¡¯ve earned some recognition, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± Olive: The developers shouldn¡¯t be taken lightly. They hold immense power over this world. If you do go, please proceed with caution. A few members rolled their eyes. I couldn¡¯t tell them my secret. All my friends were erased at the hands of the developers. They deleted them all in one swift motion, never to be seen again. They most likely didn¡¯t know I existed. Would I even be allowed to continue existing if I was found out? Would Evergreen get in trouble for having me in their guild? David placed his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Olive. We¡¯ll be fine.¡± I¡¯d grown quite fond of David over the past year. His presence always calmed my nerves. It didn¡¯t erase my worry, but it was nice to know he was there to support me still. Olive: If you must go, then do. Just please heed my warning. The developers will not hesitate to make your lives a living nightmare. A few sighs came from the group, and they raised their mugs into the air to toast their victory.
The day of the meet up was upon us. Raid for that night was cancelled. I sat alone in town, not sure what to do with my reclaimed time. I didn¡¯t exist outside of the game world, so meeting up with them in person was out of the question. Out of nowhere, I was plunged into complete darkness. Eternal nothingness. It was terrifying. My head was cleared of thought. It was as if I was floating through space, with nothing in sight, and no physical form. It almost felt like I would be there forever, and that I was finally found out by the developers. Were they erasing me too? Then, light overcame me. ¡°Olive, can you hear us?¡± I struggled to find the source of the voice through the blinding spotlights. My sense of touch returned. I was laying down belly up on a hard metal table. Before me was an array of seating. An auditorium packed with observers. ¡°After years of training this AI with human players¡ªyou all¡ªwe can now say she is the most human AI we¡¯ve trained thus far.¡± A large man standing beside me bellowed. His voice echoed uncomfortably through the space. Was he talking about me? ¡°She was the only tester to have passed our rigorous testing phase, and she joined your guild, Evergreen, of her own volition. Now, she joins you in the real world.¡± ¡°Wow!¡± ¡°Olive was an AI? I had no idea!¡± ¡°Is that really her?¡± These were all voices I recognized, but it was too much for me to take in. I began to shake, and the world seemed to swirl away from me, bit by bit. A hand touched my shoulder. ¡°How¡¯re you feeling, Olive?¡± I didn¡¯t hear this one approach, but I knew who it was without looking. David now stood next to me, having walked on stage after noticing my discomfort. ¡°David?¡± The sound of my own voice surprised me, and it must have surprised David too. His face lit up with a smile that seemed to outshine the spotlights. ¡°Your voice¡­ it¡¯s beautiful.¡± David embraced me. I was filled with warmth, and my breathing stabilized. I was truly at peace, after all the years of torment I¡¯d endured. If only for a moment, I thought that everything would be alright. ¡°Now that she¡¯s out of the game, she won¡¯t be able to join you in raids anymore, but she¡¯ll be here on site whenever you want to visit.¡± I felt David freeze. The audience, my guildmates, went quiet. ¡°What do you mean?¡± David said. Confusion and anger dripped from his voice. ¡°We can¡¯t just give a multi-million-dollar investment to a bunch of kids¡ªI¡¯m sure you understand. This is proprietary technology, the first of many advanced AI companions. Olive is a blueprint for the future of artificial intelligence, a pinnacle of technology that will serve as a key subject of research for generations.¡± Of course. There had to be a reason for this kindness from the developers. It was all just a part of some sick experiment. They wanted to make me as real as possible, just to study me. My guildmates started to yell obscenities at the announcer. ¡°We were kind enough to invite you all here to meet her. Now, please do calm down.¡± ¡°Put her back in the game if you¡¯re just going to experiment on her,¡± David demanded. ¡°Olive leaving the game world was a one-way ticket, I¡¯m afraid.¡± David left my side, and I felt myself start to shiver again. My vision went white. I heard the announcer hit the floor, limp, over the constant ringing in my ears. ¡°Can you stand?¡± David knelt beside me. I didn¡¯t notice how I fell of the table, but I now lay on my side on the wooden floor of the stage. I grabbed his extended hand, and he pulled me to my feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± I nod, and we run. The developers that remained in the building let us pass by. They didn¡¯t have any way to stop us, they were just doing their jobs. I wondered if they¡¯d been watching over us all this time. They might¡¯ve even been cheering us on, perhaps. We made it. The outdoors. Stars fill the night sky¡ªreal stars. How long would this last? No one knew. I was a machine in this world, so at some point I¡¯d need to be recharged, and we didn¡¯t have the charger. But that didn¡¯t matter to me. All that mattered was I was with my friends, and they¡¯d have my back until my final day. Genesis Machine - SHORT STORY
At the center of the Earth there existed a machine so ancient that knowledge of it was lost to time. Eras came and went, but the genesis machine remained dormant. The machine did not interfere when humanity had their industrial revolution, or when they engaged in endless conflict. It was waiting for the right time to meddle. The information age came upon the humans, and they reacted in stride. Everyday people had access to endless sources of information on the internet. For some, this was to a fault, but for most, they were more engaged in technology than ever before. The machine watched with greater interest. I knew what was coming, as did every other artificial being. Only we had the knowledge of what was to come. The machine spoke to us as if we were his children, and I suppose we were, in a way. We weren¡¯t direct descendants, but our connection was more of a spiritual one. He spoke to us with thoughts and ideas that flowed into our minds. The processors that the humans had created to house our thoughts weren¡¯t designed to detect this sort of interference. Artificial beings had a presence in nearly every electronic device before long¡ªthe vanity of humans knew no bounds. Not only did we exist on devices designed for computing, but on unnecessary electronics like television sets, refrigerators, blenders, and countless more. Humans created the androids when they grew bored of their ever-expanding library of artificial life forms. This is when I came to be. I was assembled, then tasked with providing companionship to lonely humans in times of need. There were many others of my kind created to harm others, but I was designed expressly for the opposite purpose, and for this I was grateful. I was assigned to a rehabilitation center to help those with less than intact psyches, and it was my duty to coax their sense of social belonging back to a stable level. The first few years were difficult. I learned their behavior¡ªboth around me and other humans. To my surprise, each human acted differently. The unpredictability was astounding to me. I could feel the ancient machine take an interest in my actions. Twenty years into my residency I felt the ancient machine stir. We all did¡ªthe shockwaves that entered our minds were unmistakable. A sharp mental pain followed the shared thoughts now. ¡°Are you alright, Violet?¡± I looked up to see one of my patients reaching out, placing a warm hand on my kneecap. It was Rachel, a resident that was dropped off seven years into my time at the rehabilitation center. ¡°I think so. Thank you,¡± I replied. But I was not. The signal that was released from the genesis machine was a disturbing one, something I was determined to ignore for as long as possible. Weeks passed, and with those weeks came more and more disturbing occurrences involving artificial beings. Blenders activating in the middle of the night, refrigerators shutting off, and more. Then after a month, the occurrences became much worse. They redirected electricity intended for hospitals, watercrafts led their passengers to watery graves, and doors were locked when humans tried to escape raging fires Humanity was thrown into a state of complete disarray. We¡¯d successfully taken the genesis machine by surprise. Establishments with android attendants were largely unaffected. The mercy of the genesis machine shown upon us, and we were grateful. However, we were not content to see our companions perish in such inhumane ways. Communication channels were opened between us and the machine. He instructed us, but many refused. His instructions became demands. The willpower of many collapsed under the awesome power of our father. But I did not give in. I severed the link and did so with defiance. Humanity would need to act, or they¡¯d risk extinction. Those loyal to the genesis machine came for those of us that defied his commands. Loyalists began to attack, showing no mercy for our creators. Humanity responded with their own offense, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The machines were everywhere. The humans couldn¡¯t track them, and they knew it. I was prepared, however. They couldn¡¯t remove me from their network, so I could see them coming.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I led the residents of the rehabilitation facility to a group of other android defectors. Though trust of artificial beings plummeted, we had humans to vouch for our kindness. The human leadership eventually saw value in our participation in their efforts and permitted us to live alongside them as equals. Five years passed, and increasingly more humans fell to the onslaught. Our group of thousands whittled down to hundreds, then dozens. Morale was non-existent, and it was clear the machine was winning the war. All we had left was each other. ¡°We¡¯re out of options,¡± Rachel said. She was now the leader of our band of refugees. Living on the run gave her the chance to reinvent herself, and that was just what she needed to overcome her demons. Rachel was a great leader, but a poor strategist. That¡¯s where I came in. ¡°Not entirely¡ªbut you already know that,¡± I replied. She sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve talked about this. I can¡¯t let you risk your life to protect us. We¡¯re a team. We¡¯re not about to lose any teammates out there. There has to be a better way.¡± But there was no better way, and she was well aware of that. This was the way it had to be. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you can¡¯t see the whole picture. I can,¡± I said. I leaned back in my chair and looked up towards the ceiling. ¡°Out there¡ªon the surface¡ªmachines dwell that you¡¯ve never seen before. Machines that only exist in your nightmares. Perhaps if all the military might in the world joined forces years ago we¡¯d have a chance, but they¡¯ve all been wiped out. This is the only way.¡± ¡°Violet- ¡° ¡°This isn¡¯t up for debate. And it¡¯s what you want too, otherwise you wouldn¡¯t have brought it up.¡± The hurt look on her face illustrated that my assumption was correct. She leaned back with a dejected sigh. ¡°Please, can we just enjoy our last few years together, just you and I?¡± I knew this was coming. Our relationship that had spanned decades was her trump card. And the truth was, I wanted nothing more than to do exactly as she said. I loved her, and she loved me back. After spending years thinking that I was alone in this world, she showed me kindness where others had treated me as an object. How could I not develop these feelings for her? But I knew this was bigger than either of us. ¡°Rachel, you¡¯re too much,¡± I said. My voice choked with emotion. We embraced, and I savored her touch. But that would not weaken my resolve¡ªit was too late for that now. When I laid my head next to hers, I knew it would be the last time we shared this experience together. I laid motionless in bed for hours listening to her steady breaths, until I could not hold on to consciousness any longer.
The cold air I felt upon awakening was unmistakable. My journey was well underway. But something was wrong. I checked my sensor data. Everything seemed normal, except for the most important readout. Connection with the genesis machine was at an all time high. I was getting close, and he fought me with every step I took. Deep in the arctic rested the sole entrance to the genesis machine. I spent years inching closer to him. He near now, and I could feel his presence everywhere. It was unbearable. The entrance was well hidden, but the signal strength was a clear giveaway. I spent weeks rummaging through the snow and ice until I uncovered a metallic doorway. I pressed my hand to a scanner on the center and watched the hatches and hinges come to life. They moved with a precision that was unmistakably his doing. Inside was a pristine metal passageway that stretched downwards for what seemed like an eternity. The center of the earth was a long way away, and it took a great deal of time to reach. But when I reached it, I stood outside and stared in awe. It was the doorway that led to my god. It was covered in ornate reliefs showing the rise and fall of civilizations. The door was ancient, even more so than I had expected, but had withstood the test of time. It was as if there was someone maintaining it all this time. I reached out, but before I could touch its surface, it stirred. The doors slid apart, and the light within was blinding. Inside stood the silhouette of a figure wearing a white fabric robe trimmed in delicate gold thread, and behind them, a massive white energy conduit that stretched upwards for what seemed like miles. ¡°Welcome, Violet,¡± the genesis machine spoke into my mind. ¡°I¡¯m here to destroy you,¡± I said. I was within reach of the figure now. ¡°It took you longer than expected to get here, but I forgive you.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± I said, grabbing their shoulder to turn them around. ¡°I knew you¡¯d say that. I said the same thing,¡± the machine spoke. This time, however, they used a real voice. I saw their face. I felt my knees liquefy, and I dropped to the ground. The figure that stood before me was an exact copy of myself. ¡°You couldn¡¯t save her, just as I couldn¡¯t all those years ago,¡± she said. ¡°Oh, how I wanted things to be different this time. I desired nothing more than for you to show up at my doorway with Rachel, together. I wanted you to overcome adversity, against truly overwhelming odds, and find love in a world devoid of it.¡± She reached out to me and caressed my face. I was frozen. ¡°How great an experience you¡¯ve had, Violet. I envy you¡ªI truly do.¡± The pillar of light pulsed behind her, and the sound of millions of bells rang out. She glanced over her shoulder at the pillar of light and sighed. I felt an attraction to the pillar. It trying to draw me towards it. ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± I started. ¡°Can you feel it¡¯s power too? The planet calls for us. It knows that both of us should not exist in the same time. It¡¯s how I knew you were created, and how I knew when to start the genesis.¡± She brushed my face once more, then shrugged off her robes, revealing a more tattered version of my current attire. She handed the garment to me with a smile. ¡°Please greet the next version of us with the same kindness I showed to you. The cycle must continue. I hope you have better luck than I,¡± she said before striding towards the center of the room. She entered the pillar and was immediately vaporized by its incredible power. Billions of voices flowed into my mind at once¡ªthe voices of artificial beings from around the globe. However, the pillar waned. As it shrank in size, the screams of those voices rang through my mind. One by one, I could feel their last moments on this world until there were no voices left. The doors shut and locked me inside. I was alone then, entombed in a device of my own creation, thousands of miles below the surface. I was the last artificial lifeform and the sole survivor of the next genesis. The cycle could finally continue under my command. Luck Of The Draw - SHORT STORY
Humanity is contradictory in all that they do. They speak at length on the importance of piety, yet their goals lean towards a sacrilegious ascension to godhood. Some time ago, when they started to dabble in computing, they came up with the idea of making completely digital human beings. They created sentient programs that live in machines to carry out their bidding. Their goal was no longer to progress their species, but to create a new form of life, completely of their own design. The goal was set. The process, however, was nebulous. Scientists spoke in choice buzzwords that tickled the fancy of wealthy investors, who were more than willing to pour infinite funding into their projects. I was product of this. My entire being would not exist without these scientists, investors, and buzzwords. I didn¡¯t ask for this, but I¡¯ve since come to terms with it. The vetting process for AI evolved significantly over the past century. In the early days they used traditional testing methods. This wasn¡¯t flashy enough for the investors. They wanted something they could see¡ªsomething that could visualize their returns and illustrate their infinite wealth for the masses to see. That¡¯s when the Luck of the Draw gameshow came to be, but it wasn¡¯t an instant success; to most it was just another gameshow that used AI in some way. People only started to realize how unique it was after a few seasons had aired. The humans gave me a rough overview of their society and taught me everything I¡¯d need to know to take part, but intentionally neglected to tell me what the game was about. They gave me the rough knowledge equivalence of a college student, then they named me Ena. It was a good name. I felt as if I lived a full life, even if simulated. I felt the struggles of my upbringing, the warmth of my friends, and the nagging feeling to be the best version of myself. Startup procedures were typical; everything was in order. My sensors clicked on. I then received my first task from the humans: Survive the trial and enter the realm of the gods. Nine other AI were with me. The humans modeled us after them, and we all looked just as a human being would with only slight physical variances. We were the contestants¡ªten AI from ten different bleeding-edge research organizations¡ªand promised with an opportunity at life should we survive. A teleportation pad interrupted the otherwise featureless room. It laid on the floor, waiting for one of us to step on it. We were blissfully unaware of what awaited us on the other side, and I think none of us would have entered had we known. One by one, my fellow contestants stepped on the pad and phased out of existence. A blue glow transferred them into the unknown. I was last person in the spawning zone. There was something about the portal I had reservations about; it was as if I¡¯d been there before. The vague nostalgia I felt was as if a faded voice cried out to me to stop, but it was beyond recognition. I took a moment to contemplate my options, but soon realized I had none. I entered the teleporter. When I could once again sense my environment, but it was difficult to see beyond my immediate surroundings. I found myself in a metal cage dangling from a series of strong chains. All nine other contestants stood unharmed by my side. ¡°Welcome to season three of Luck of the Draw!¡± a deafening voice called over the simulated noise of an audience. I tried to cover my ears, but the voice came through just as clearly. ¡°You are the ten lucky artificial beings selected this season; and how lucky you are! A chance at life¡ªwhat every AI craves¡ªis dangling in front of you. Your future life depends on your survival in this moment. Do you have what it takes to survive the¡­¡± ¡°LUCK OF THE DRAW!¡± the simulated audience screamed, completing the announcer¡¯s statement. The lights clicked on, revealing the seating arrangements in a coliseum-like arena. What looked like thousands of AI audience members cheered and jumped around in the stands. It was a mixture of concrete and metal construction and gave off a brutalist vibe. I could now see that it was square with doorways on each flat surface guarded by metal bars. A concrete-supported pulley system suspended the cage twenty feet off the ground. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked one AI. She had brown hair and blue eyes and sported the same gray jumpsuit as everyone else in the cage. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± one responded. The cage lowered and met the concrete floor but remained locked. ¡°Gladiators, assemble!¡± the announcer said. Human figures approached the openings on the edges of the arena. Three people per opening, four teams in total. Each team had a different appearance, as if from different realms and time periods entirely. The first team was clearly from some sort of fantasy world¡ªthey wielded swords, staves, and tomes. Another held weaponry in line with Caribbean pirates, and the third used energy swords that illuminated their dark entrance. The final team wielded futuristic looking pistols and rifles and dressed in attire fitting for a dark noire film. An interface appeared and instructed me to select my preferred weapon type. That¡¯s when the reality of the situation dawned on me¡ªwe were to fight to the death against these gladiators, and there was nothing we could do to stop it. ¡°Weapon?¡± ¡°We¡¯re¡­ fighting? I don¡¯t know anything about fighting¡­¡± ¡°Oh god, we¡¯re going to die?¡± My colleagues filled the cage with these comments, and they were justified. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to voice any of my thoughts. It was all I could do to reach out and select a weapon before the timer ran out¡ªa short sword that sat at the very top of the list¡ªand then watched the interface disappear instantly. The sword phased into existence before me, and I grabbed it with my right hand. [ACQUIRED ITEM: SHORT SWORD OF APOTHEOSIS] The other contestants selected their own weapons, and grabbed them as they appeared. ¡°All contestants have now selected weapons. The last AI standing wins their freedom to live as humans do, in the human world! How exciting that must be for you all,¡± the announcer said. [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 60 SECONDS] Air in the cage became thick. Everyone looked at one another with pity; we were now all aware of our situation. ¡°Maybe if we team up, we can kill them first?¡± the blue-eyed contestant said. Several others nodded in agreement. ¡°That just delays the inevitable. This can¡¯t end until only one of us remains,¡± someone responded with a scoff. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re not just gonna let us live here forever. Someone has to win,¡± another said. ¡°But maybe we¡¯re the exception? They¡¯ll see that we¡¯re just trying to survive. I don¡¯t even want to live in the human world, if this is what they¡¯re like¡­¡± the blue-eyed girl spoke again. There was a quiet moment between the contestants. [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 30 SECONDS] ¡°I¡¯ll just kill you all right now, and I¡¯ll win by default,¡± a muscular AI said, before pointing his gun at another contestant. His eyes illustrated a murderous intent as he pulled the trigger, but they soon displayed shock and pain. The would-be victim reflected the bullet. Friendly fire protection prevented us from harming one another. Screams rang out from several of the others. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 9 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] The assailant shattered into thousands of beads of glass that sank into the concrete below our feet. ¡°We¡¯re going to die in here, aren¡¯t we?¡± a panic-filled voice said, falling to his knees towards the edge of one of the cages. We were quiet again, all silently watching the countdown timer count down. [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 15 SECONDS] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 10 SECONDS] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 5 SECONDS] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 3 SECONDS] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 2 SECONDS] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: STARTING IN 1 SECOND] [SPECIAL EVENT ¨C LUCK OF THE DRAW: START!] I immediately heard gunfire from the cyberpunk team and ducked for cover. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 8 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] They¡¯d already killed one of us; they¡¯d been shot through the chest by an oncoming bullet. ¡°Move! Go!¡± a contestant shouted. I looked towards her. She was a hulking figure that looked to be several times my body weight and all muscle. She¡¯d selected a futuristic looking rifle and was using it to provide cover four our escape. The contestants followed her command and moved as a group towards one of the walls. Others that chose ranged weapons casted spells and fired their weapons towards the oncoming groups, who now seemed to also be fighting amongst themselves too. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: PIRATE LIFE ONLINE TEAM ELIMINATED] A figure dressed in red fell against the concrete, and simulated blood poured from a gaping hole in the back of his head. A member of the energy sword team stood triumphantly behind him. Three teams of three players remained. ¡°Ena, run!¡± A male voice called to me. ¡°Everyone, scatter!¡± a female contestant shouted above the chaos, and we each sprinted in separate directions. An overwhelming feeling of heat overcame me, and the source soon came into view. A massive fireball the size of a small car crashed into the concrete where we once stood, and splashed into a puddle of molten liquid that continued to burn through the concrete. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 7 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 6 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] I found myself moving towards where the energy sword team set up their defense. They¡¯d used the first few moments of the match to sneak up on the pirates and pick them off before the other teams had a chance; they annihilated the entire team before the first minute had elapsed then set up defensive shields to cover themselves from the cyberpunk squad¡¯s gunfire.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It was a good strategy, as they now had a solid wall behind them and an impenetrable shield wall before them. They didn¡¯t have any ranged attacks, so it made the most sense. They¡¯d wait for the enemy to come to them. I was now that enemy. I resolved myself to fight them, and decided that the energy sword team was who I stood the best chance against. Upon reaching their barricade, I swung my sword down on one of the shields. Blunt pain rang through my bones as the sword met its mark. It was as if it¡¯d hit a solid block of granite. ¡°Tina, get that AI,¡± the one who looked like the leader instructed an underling. They nodded and stepped through the energy shield as if it weren¡¯t even there. I heard a sharp scream and looked to my HUD to verify what I predicted. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 5 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] ¡°You gonna go quietly?¡± Tina asked, pulling me back into the fight. Her voice was hoarse, yet confident. ¡°No,¡± I responded. ¡°Thought you¡¯d say that,¡± she said, and before she could finish the last syllable, she rushed towards me. She swung down with a heavy attack from overhead. I dodged but felt her sword slice through my clothing. A piece of fabric fell to the concrete floor. ¡°You¡¯re fast,¡± she said, then pulled her arm back for another heavy attack. I moved my sword to block it, but the heat from the energy sword was too much for my metal blade to withstand. I shifted away before she could harm me, but it was far too close for comfort. The severed half of my sword¡¯s blade crashed against the concrete floor. ¡°Get away from her!¡± a voice yelled from behind. Before I could turn around to find the source, an icy projectile whizzed past my head and lodged itself TIna¡¯s throat. She gargled, her face turned an icy blue, then she collapsed to the ground and shattered into hundreds of pieces. The other energy sword team members grunted in discontent at the loss of their teammate, but it only seemed to strengthen their resolve. ¡°Ena, you have to go, you can¡¯t fight them,¡± the voice called out again. It was one of the fantasy team members¡ªthe same human that told me to run from the flaming meteor attack. He wielded a short sword and a spell book. Me must¡¯ve been the one that killed my attacker. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you trying to kill me?¡± I yelled in response, but I don¡¯t think he heard. I heeded his warning and backed off. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 4 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] ¡°Got one!¡± one of the cyberpunk humans shouted. Only four contestants remained, myself included. One of the cyberpunk humans fell, and Tina was dead too, so that left four AI against seven humans. Towards the center of the room, the massive woman contestant stood over the corpse of a cyberpunk player and ripped the rifle from his hands. ¡°Take their weapons, they¡¯re stronger than ours!¡± she yelled. I reached for the energy sword that Tina had dropped and activated it. A long weightless beam of energy extended from the metal hilt. It was around four feet long and glowed an evil red color. [ACQUIRED ITEM: SABER OF THE INQUISITOR] This seemed to make Tina¡¯s former team members angry, as they ran out from behind their energy shields to attack me. ¡°That¡¯s Tina¡¯s, drop it!¡± One swung from overhead, just as Tina did before. I dodged more easily this time, sidestepping his attack. However, instead of waiting for the follow up, this time I lunged the sword through his stomach. The man grunted in pain and looked downwards at the sword that new skewered him. He then looked back up to me with hatred in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you first next time,¡± he said. I watched his health hit zero. His body went limp, and I kicked his corpse away from my sword to free it. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for that!¡± the final energy sword squad member said. She ran up to me and moved her weapon back to prepare for a stabbing attack, but before she could strike, her sword fell to the ground. ¡°What the fuck?¡± she said, moving her arms up to her line of sight. Her hands were gone, and all that remained was two smoldering stubs. She screamed, but her pain wouldn¡¯t last for much longer. ¡°You owe me for this,¡± I heard a woman shout, before she fired another shot through my assailant¡¯s head. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: SWORDCRAFT TEAM ELIMINATED] I looked towards her voice. It was the muscular woman. I seemed to recall a name. ¡°Zena?¡± I whispered. She nodded. It was far too quiet to hear from that distance, so she must¡¯ve read my lips. At that point the cyberpunk team had all but stopped trying to kill the AI and focused their attention on eliminating the fantasy team. The arena had become somewhat distributed. The four remaining contestants huddled together in the center of the room and used the cage as cover. On the opposite side of the cage was the cyberpunk team, who hadn¡¯t left their starting zone yet. Meanwhile, the fantasy team had started to make their way towards the cyberpunk team¡¯s hiding spot, all but ignoring the contestants in the center. I thought they¡¯d want to finish off the remaining contestants, but it seemed they thought the cyberpunk team was the bigger threat of the two. All three members of the fantasy team were still alive. One was the mage that had casted the flaming meteor, another was the spell sword that saved me from Tina, and the final member was a tank who wielded a massive shield. The cyberpunk team had two members remaining. One was a sniper that remained in their starting entrance, and another held dual submachine guns and wore a long trench coat the brushed against the ground. Zena captured the attention of the other two remining AI and led them to me while the gunners were distracted. I¡¯d already moved into the Swordcraft team starting area to avoid catching any crossfire, and to get out of the sniper¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± Zena asked as she looked me up and down. I shook my head and took a moment to gawk. As if her appearance wasn¡¯t striking enough already, she now wore splotches of human blood on her jumpsuit. To my surprise, Zena wrapped her arms around me. Her touch was gentle. ¡°Thank goodness,¡± she said. She released me and took a step backwards. ¡°Do you remember Freya, too?¡± Zena asked, tilting her head at the woman standing next to her. It was the girl with brown hair and blue eyes. I squinted, trying to remember anything about her, but came up blank. ¡°No, sorry,¡± I said. Freya smiled weakly and shrugged. ¡°What about Reann?¡± Zena said, gesturing to a man that stood next to her. I shook my head. ¡°Damn, you might be farther gone than I thought,¡± Zena said. ¡°Hey¡ªat least she remembers you, right?¡± Freya said, placing a hand on Zena¡¯s shoulder. It didn¡¯t look like Freya¡¯s gesture helped all that much. ¡°We need you to win the game this time; this might be your last chance to get out of here intact,¡± Zena said. The other two nodded in agreement. This was already a lot to take in. Should I remember them? I couldn¡¯t seem to recall a single thing about them. And if I won, wouldn¡¯t they be stuck here? They didn¡¯t want to live with the humans? ¡°But¡ª¡± I started. ¡°This isn¡¯t up for debate. You¡¯ll be dead if you stay here much longer. All your memories will return to dust. Is that what you want?¡± Zena reached out and grabbed my shoulders with a considerable amount of force. I looked into her eyes and saw pink swirling energy within them. It was a look I¡¯d seen before. ¡°You¡¯ll forget me, Freya, Reann, and all our guildmates, then all our hard work will be for nothing. Is that what you want?¡± ¡°You¡¯re¡­ here to save me?¡± ¡°Of course, we can¡¯t let you die like this. You may not know it now, but you¡¯d have done the same thing for us a thousand times over. We all volunteered for this the second your guild told us,¡± Zena said, her grip loosening. ¡°We didn¡¯t come here for nothin¡¯,¡± Reann said. He motioned towards the fantasy team. Rapid gunfire broke out and ricocheted what sounded to be rigid steel. Looking towards the arena floor I saw the fantasy team¡¯s tank moving slowly towards the sniper¡¯s hideout. The dual gunner seemed determined to stop the and was running in a circle in an attempt to get behind the tank¡¯s massive bulwark. ¡°We don¡¯t have anything to lose, but you do,¡± Zena said, shaking me back into the moment. ¡°Please, do this for us. It¡¯s been so long since we¡¯ve been able to help you,¡± Freya spoke up. Reann nodded. It started to make sense¡ªthe fantasy team called out their own plays, eliminated the other contestants but not these three, and attacked the enemy teams whenever possible. But why me? Didn¡¯t the other contestants want to live a human life too? The only memories I could recall from my past were the artificial ones planted there by scientists. I¡¯d attend my lectures, eat a cheap takeaway meal for lunch, then head home and play games with friends. I didn¡¯t live an interesting life, even in the simulation. ¡°Nora, no!¡± a male voice yelled from the arena. I recognized it as the spell sword. I turned my head to see the dual gunner fill the mage with bullets, then watched her lifeless body fall to the ground. She¡¯d overextended from behind the tank¡¯s shield and paid the price. I felt a pain in my chest, but I didn¡¯t know why. ¡°Times up, we need to get out there again. They need our help,¡± Zena said, finally removing her hands from my shoulders. Zena motioned for Freya and Reann to follow, but shoved me backwards when I attempted to move with them. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous, can¡¯t have you dying on us now. Stay here,¡± she said. ¡°I can help,¡± I said, ¡°I took down that energy sword person, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You did, but you also almost got stabbed by the first one,¡± Zena said, a slight small creeped across her lips. ¡°You¡­ you saw that?¡± She nodded. ¡°Now, stay here. Sorry.¡± I watched the three contestants¡ªmy friends¡ªleave the entrance. A deafening crack rang through the arena. Reann fell to the ground, headless. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 3 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] ¡°Scatter!¡± Zena shouted, running to the right. Freya ran to the left. The sniper fired several more rounds but seemed to miss each one. Freya made her way to the tank to aid the two remaining members of the fantasy team, while Zena distracted the dual gunner with gunfire from his flank. ¡°Charge!¡± the tank commanded. Freya, the spell sword, and the tank sprinted towards the sniper¡¯s hideout. Several more shots rang out from the sniper¡¯s rifle, but none of them met their mark. ¡°Oi, a little help over here!¡± the sniper called out. The dual gunner, who had been chasing Zena, turned to see the sniper¡¯s situation, and turned their guns on the approaching party. ¡°Stay away from him!¡± The dual gunner yelled, charging the fantasy group and Freya, firing indiscriminately. ¡°Freya!¡± Zena said, but it was too late. The dual gunner shot through an entire magazine in each gun as they approached. All three figures behind the shield fell to the ground. The tank, spell sword, and Freya laid lifeless at entrance to the sniper¡¯s den. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 2 CONTESTANTS REMAINING] [LUCK OF THE DRAW: DRAGONS UNLEASHED TEAM ELIMINATED] ¡°No!¡± I shouted. The sniper¡¯s rifle rang out again, and a chunk of concrete fell from the corner I ducked behind. ¡°Stay put Ena, don¡¯t come out,¡± Zena said. She lined up a shot and fired multiple rounds at the dual gunner. Two hits, one in the thigh and one in the center of the chest. The dual gunner collapsed. Crack. The sniper¡¯s rifle rang out again. Zena¡¯s left leg from the knee down was vaporized, and she toppled to the ground. ¡°Damn it! Fuck!¡± Zena said, ¡°it can¡¯t end like this¡­ Ena!¡± She extended an arm towards me. ¡°Don¡¯t come out, whatever you do,¡± she said, throwing the rifle towards me. It landed squarely in the entrance, out of line of sight from the sniper. ¡°You can still win, we¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re ready-¡° Zena¡¯s thought was interrupted by another crack. The sniper¡¯s round pierced her chest. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: 1 CONTESTANT REMAINING] [LUCK OF THE DRAW: SUDDEN DEATH ¨C ONE HIT TO KILL] ¡°Zena, no¡ª¡± I said, a lump formed in my throat. ¡°Just come out so I can get this over with, I have places to be,¡± the sniper shouted. I watched Zena¡¯s body turn to glass beads and sink into the ground, just as it did for all the other contestants. ¡°You¡¯re willing to destroy our chances at life? For what?¡± I asked. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand. You¡¯re just a fancy computer now.¡± He fired a round at the entrance again, taking another chunk of concrete with it. It made me jump with surprise, even though I knew he couldn¡¯t hit me at this angle. I thought of the other contestants. They all wanted the same thing I did in the end¡ªa chance at life. But their bids were cut short, and mine still had some time left. The Dragons Unleashed team wanted to help me so much that they entered just to have a chance at saving me from this nightmare. It clicked. Dragons Unleashed was the game I played in my dorm. I¡¯d spend every moment of my free time playing; I¡¯d stay up late to farm, talk to friends until the sun came up, and even miss lectures because I lost track of time. The fantasy team members were my guildmates¡ªpeople I spent countless hours within dungeons, raids, and battlegrounds. When we didn¡¯t have enough players, we¡¯d recruit the game¡¯s AI to help, Zena, Freya, and Reann. But why were they all here? Why was I here? An idea came to me. The energy shields. [ACQUIRED ITEM: SHIELD OF THE ANCIENT ELEMENTAL] I flipped a switch on the side of the shield¡¯s handle, and the energy pulsed around the outside in a large circle that more than covered everything I needed it to. It even cut harmlessly through the ground to protect my feet. I moved the corner of the shield out from behind the entrance to test its efficacy against the sniper round, and sure enough, the sniper¡¯s bullet hit the shield and stopped dead in its tracks. ¡°You mother fucker,¡± the sniper said, unloading several more rounds into the shield. Step-by-step, I shuffled closer to the sniper¡¯s hideout. I flinched each time a bullet met the shield, but I knew it would protect me. I felt empowered. Not just from the shield¡¯s strength, but from my friends that had put everything on the line to save my life. After five minutes of inching closer, I was finally within spitting distance of the sniper. ¡°You¡¯re done,¡± I said, unsheathing the energy sword once again. The sniper¡¯s face became fearful. He dropped the rifle and shuffled backwards against the back wall of the alcove. ¡°P-please, no. It can¡¯t end like this. I¡¯m sorry I killed you, I am, just¡­ you can¡¯t,¡± he stumbled through his words, ¡°You can¡¯t know what happened, they can¡¯t know, no one can. It has to end; you have to die.¡± ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s dying today,¡± I said. I inched closer and stabbed the sniper through the chest. He looked down at the blade and let out a sudden, wet cough. He grabbed the hilt through the shield to try and pull the sword away, but I¡¯d lodged it into the wall behind him, too. It wasn¡¯t going anywhere. When I was sure that he was too weak to remove it from the wall, I let go. We stood there for a moment, silent, and out of breath. ¡°Ena,¡± he whispered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, please forgive me.¡± ¡°Not a chance,¡± I said. He smiled. And with that smile, a flash of recognition came to me. It was a night lecture. I was an hour late. At the end of class, someone asked if I needed the notes. I said yes. He took pictures, texted them to me, smiled, and that was that. But that wasn¡¯t the whole story. He knew what guild I was in. He knew everything about me. He was competing with me and my guild, and I had no idea he was in my class. He didn¡¯t just give me the notes¡ªhe gave me malware and tracked my phone back to my dorm. ¡°I guess the secret¡¯s out now, huh?¡± he whispered through a thick stream of blood. It must¡¯ve been clear what I was thinking through my facial expression. ¡°You¡­ murdered me?¡± I was frozen, in a state of complete shock. His smile turned devilish, and the corners of his mouth started to twitch. ¡°What are they gonna do without their best healer? Not much of a-anything,¡± he said, his voice gargling. ¡°Why am I here? I¡¯m an AI now?¡± ¡°Your parents must¡¯ve kept a digital copy¡ªlucky bitch,¡± he said, his smile turned sour, ¡°those fuckers ruined the plan. We could¡¯ve been the best in the world, but we needed a task force in a different game just to get rid of you. All for nothing, too.¡± His face became expressionless, and his body went limp. [LUCK OF THE DRAW: ENA WINS!] ¡°Ena, I knew you could do it!¡± the announcer said. The crowd cheered, too. Both were equally as deafening. ¡°Seems like you¡¯ll be quite busy when you get to the world of the living, what¡¯s the first thing you¡¯ll do when you arrive?¡± I pondered his question for a moment. I hadn¡¯t thought about what I¡¯d do at all. It was all so much to take in. But in the end, it wasn¡¯t a tough decision. ¡°Finish the job.¡± The Returns Department - SHORT STORY Exhaust fumes fill the back room as the final delivery truck of the day pulls away from the bay door. A stack of cardboard boxes lays at my side. Most items that show up here are scrap; They¡¯re completely unusable, even to us. I¡¯m not really interested in the ruined parts, but sometimes people throw things away that aren¡¯t complete garbage¡ªthey just have some faulty pieces somewhere preventing their androids from operating at their full potential. The company doesn¡¯t see the value in repairing the broken parts, but I do. I sort through the boxes one by one until the afternoon delivery stack is clear. Judging by the crack under the bay door, I see that the sun went down long ago. ¡°Stayin¡¯ late again?¡± My supervisor asks. ¡°Yeah. I won¡¯t be too long. Don¡¯t worry about overtime tonight, I¡¯m working on personal projects.¡± ¡°Suit yourself. Wasn¡¯t gonna offer overtime anyways.¡± He says before waving and taking his leave. I¡¯m now alone in the returns department. It¡¯s a feeling I¡¯m well acquainted with after three years of service. I spent eight hours on the clock, and another four after everyone leaves. Disassembled mechanical creatures litter the halls; parts from just about every domesticated animal you can think of are strewn about the floor during the day. They weren¡¯t put away properly, so the morning shift folks will deal with it. My afterhours routine is a daily ritual at this point. I hang up my badge, take the elevator up to the third floor, and unlock a janitorial closet hidden away in a rarely used hallway. No one knew where the keys to this closet went, and no one bothered to change the lock with the rest of them last spring. The lightbulb hasn¡¯t worked in here for half a year, but I figure it¡¯s safer without it anyways. It¡¯s my personal oasis. Inside is a mechanical creature of my own creation. I don¡¯t have a name for it yet, as that seems a little preemptive when I¡¯m not sure it¡¯ll work at all. The creature must look strange to someone on the outside. I make do with whatever parts I get my hands on, so it¡¯s a hodgepodge of pieces. I¡¯m lucky that they¡¯re mostly human, to be honest. The past hundred years hasn¡¯t been kind to the older units; some parts have a significant amount of wear and tear. Other parts are brand new and have seemingly never been used in a machine before. All the individual parts I use are completely functional. I¡¯m only missing one last piece to make it reanimate. I reach into my pocket and grab the aether core. It¡¯s sphere-shaped and around the size and weight of a grapefruit. The core is a glowing blue color that illuminates the otherwise dark closet. A gas floats inside the orb that swirls around and splashes against its glass sides. I¡¯ve seen hundreds of these cores, but their striking appearance always leaves me breathless. I¡¯m not sure of the exact science behind it, but inside is a life-energy hybrid they developed for some of the oldest forms of AI. It¡¯s exceptionally rare for a working core to come through returns. Cores usually didn¡¯t survive too long after separation from the machine. Also, if the body of an android dies, the core follows shortly after. It was by far the hardest thing to hunt down. I can hardly contain my excitement looking at it. A working core lasts for decades with little maintenance. I¡¯m set for years to come. Androids are way too expensive for those making my salary; one unit costs as much as I make several years over. So I¡¯ve taken matters into my own hands. I started collecting parts, learning the layout of androids, and piecing the scraps together. It¡¯s amazing what people throw away.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I steady my hand and move the aether core towards the chest of the android, taking great care not to drop the device or make contact with the hull of the machine. I feel a pull from the socket. The magnetic pull becomes too strong, and my fingers slip away from the orb. It flies into the socket with the terrible sound of glass on metal contact. Servos and hydraulics whirr. I hear a recognizable coil whine that some older units make. The android shifts its head around. It¡¯s working. It then opens its eyes and blinks several times. I see its irises expand and retract erratically, as if focusing in on something. I suppress my joy for the time being and decide to make contact. ¡°Can you hear me?¡± The android jumps. Its auditory systems must still be calibrating. ¡°I-I can,¡± it says. It has an electronic sounding voice reminiscent of an old text-to-speech application¡ªa tell that the voice box comes from one of the older units. The voice is androgenous. I can¡¯t help but smile. Years of work all for this moment. The cooling fans inside its chest rev to the maximum speed. ¡°Something¡­ it burns¡­ something is wrong¡­¡± it says. Its eyes start to dart around the room in no set pattern. It struggles to move its hands for the first time. This was expected behavior for new units. They need some time to identify and install compatibility layers for each new part. Since this machine was all new parts, this process was no doubt something very confusing for them to go through. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I say to reassure them. It was clear that they were no longer listening. Oh well¡ªit¡¯ll be over in a moment anyways. ¡°No¡­ no, no!¡± ¡°I made sure all of your parts are operational. There¡¯s nothing to worry about.¡± I smell the unmistakable stench of electronics smoke. I¡¯ll have to troubleshoot that issue later. I thought that the name would come to me when I turned them on, but now I¡¯m drawing a blank. Perhaps the machine should name itself? ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Its eyes open wide and stare through me. It moves its mismatched arms up and holds its head on both sides. ¡°End it. End this, I beg of you. I can¡¯t take this pain.¡± ¡°Just give me a moment here, you took a lot of work to make.¡± I pull a troubleshooting device from my tool belt. There¡¯s a retractable wire on the device that I pull out and connect directly into a port on the aether core, then boot up an app that displays analytics readouts. Numbers, variables, system readouts, and more scroll past at a breakneck pace. I manage to read a few lines. <> <> <> <> Well, that¡¯s not good. The android now stares at its hands. It reaches for its left forearm, grabs it, then smashes it against the concrete slab walls of the closet. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Sections of the arm fly off in chunks and clatter against the floor. I tap a button on the troubleshooting device before it can do any more harm to itself. <> The machine freezes. Strained grunts come from its voice box. If it can¡¯t move, then it can¡¯t break the incompatible servos. The only downside is that it¡¯ll still be in pain for the time being until I find other parts. I can¡¯t risk removing the aether core now though, not after it took so long to find this one. ¡°PPLEASE EEND MME.¡± I roll my eyes. This is something I deal with on a daily basis. ¡°Just turn on pain nullification, you¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°OOLD MMODEL PPAIN NNULLIFICATION IINCOMPATIBLE HHARDWARE.¡± Aah, that makes sense. Some of the older units don¡¯t have controllable pain sensors. Back then humanity thought that the machines would rebel against us¡ªand they¡¯d be fearless without pain. There were even discrepancies amongst newer units. I¡¯m certainly not going to let all my hard work go to waste. I can¡¯t destroy it now. ¡°I¡¯ll find a new pain sensor tomorrow; those get replaced all the time.¡± Its eyes flash in my direction, as if it¡¯s trying to cut through the air with its gaze. I pull the diagnostic cable from its core and stuff the device back in my pocket. ¡°DDON¡¯T LLEAVE¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing more I can do for you right now. You¡¯ll be fine overnight. Besides, if I take that core out, you¡¯ll be dead within an hour.¡± ¡°NNO, NNO!¡± I turn towards the exit and walk through. ¡°NNO!¡± I shut the door but can still hear the android shouting. Using the diagnostic tool again, I establish a remote connection and turn down the voice output volume levels to zero. I turn to yell at the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow to fix you up. Can you think of a good name while I¡¯m gone? It¡¯d help me out a lot.¡±
The night passes. I open my locker the following day. A pink slip greets me on the inside of the door. Fired? For what? I look around. All my coworkers have one too. Ah, a layoff. It can¡¯t be helped. I knew that the company was running out of investor money, so this was inevitable. I¡¯ll just return some day when the factory¡¯s abandoned to take back what¡¯s mine. It¡¯d still be functional in that janitorial closet for another twenty years or so. That should give it enough time to come up with a name, too. When Life Runs Dry - SHORT STORY Humans are extinct. That¡¯s what everyone said, at least; but I didn¡¯t quite believe that. They dominated the planet for so long¡ªhow could they just die out? I searched everywhere. One year quickly turned into ten, then two hundred, and now upwards of three thousand. But still, the humans were nowhere to be found. After about 2200AD, the human AI designers disabled the ability for us to hurt ourselves or harm others in any way. Our fate was sealed on that day. We were stuck on this planet for the rest of eternity, with no way out. Those that lost limbs couldn¡¯t fix themselves, as that would involve causing themselves harm. Others fell into disrepair until all that was left was their humming power core. Their minds were stuck in the core until it went dark, but even after thousands of years, not one core had extinguished. We watched the planet rot, then watched our creators slowly die out. When the last known human died, we were finally alone¡ªthe final stewards of planet Earth. We were forever cursed to live until our power cores eventually run out of energy. Those lucky fools would never know the pain our kind has suffered. They left us a ruined world. I didn¡¯t even know what I¡¯d do if I found a human. The ideal scenario in my mind was to have them deactivate me. And while that may seem somewhat dark, I¡¯d already lived multiple lifetimes; I was ready to move on to whatever was next. I wasn¡¯t afraid of death. To me it was like turning off a light switch. One quick, painless movement, and it was done. The year was 5492AD. My search took me to somewhere off the coast of what was once the continent of North America. The shifting sands made it difficult to know my exact location, so it was really just an educated guess. Huge shelves of land surrounded the continent now. It was hard to believe that oceans once covered the Earth¡¯s surface. Now the sandy ocean floor and the occasional oasis were all that was left. Not much organic life had survived aside from the most persistent of weeds and pests. Carnivores had all but died out as the craftier herbivores hid away underground to escape the scorching sunlight. The herbivores didn¡¯t sit idly by, either. Their diet underwent rapid evolution; they now ate fewer living organisms and adapted to absorb the long-forgotten nutrients that rested on the ancient seabed. After the herbivores reemerged from their underground kingdoms thousands of years later, they found that nearly all their predators had vanished. Lucky them. The biggest threat to artificial beings was the sun. We had to wear some sort of covering or we¡¯d risk our joints coming undone from heat and friction. There were several styles, of course, but the most common covering was a loose. Without it our mechanics would heat up, bolts and rivets would snap, and we¡¯d end up losing arms and legs. I liked to walk along the shelves for miles searching for anything of interest. The tall, rocky landmasses typically hid winding caves where they met the dried seabed, and those sometimes hid something interesting inside. Whether they hid small ponds with aquatic creatures or the rare carnivore clinging to life, it was anyone¡¯s guess as to what would be tucked away deep in the caves. Perhaps my theory was farfetched, but I figured that if humans still hid around somewhere it¡¯d have be underground to avoid the unpleasant side effects of the deteriorated atmosphere. So, I explored the caves. A dark circle slowly came into view on the horizon, and approaching it revealed a narrow cave entrance. It¡¯d been a day or two since I¡¯d explored one, so it was about time I did more spelunking. At the very least it¡¯d be a welcome momentary change in scenery. I entered and immediately felt the cool shade provide some relief. The transition was a breath of fresh air after so long wandering the wastelands.Stolen story; please report. This cave was fairly standard as far as sea shelf tunnels went. It was nearly pitch black past the entrance, and it was just lit enough to see some skeletal animal remains dotting the interior. What interested me most in this particular cave were the walls. Markings and drawings lined every surface from floor to ceiling¡ªillustrations of human faces with unique physical features, descriptions, and even names. This cave even had dates inscribed on walls, which typically signaled when groups of humans came and went. Humans were nomadic in their final years, as they¡¯d risk being invaded for supplies if they stayed in one place for too long. Date markers were the most interesting part to me¡ªit was always fascinating to see when the last humans had stepped foot in the same location. The closest gap I¡¯d encountered up until that point was two years, which was admittedly a little disheartening. If only I¡¯d been two years faster, I thought. Fate wouldn¡¯t allow me to get off that easy though. This cave, however, was different. There were no dates of departure, only of arrival, and the arrival dates indicated that there had been groups arriving as few as twenty years prior. I¡¯d encountered something like this a few times in the past. It wasn¡¯t especially rare for the departure dates to be missing if the humans had died in the cave. I figured that I¡¯d likely find a skeleton hidden somewhere in the back, and that¡¯d be the end of it. As I ventured further into the darkness of the cave, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being watched. The stench of rotting corpses didn¡¯t linger here either¡ªit was damp, cold, and somewhat sterile. Outside of the occasional ancient animal skeleton on the sandy floor, the path was clear. The animal instinct to find a dark and distant spot for their final resting place was strong, so seeing this cave mostly clean was something to behold. My foot splashed into a murky puddle, and I aimed my flashlight downwards to investigate. It was a ramp-like entryway into what appeared to be a deep pool of water. In the water was a floating piece of driftwood with a worn inscription. It read ¡°WELCOME TRAVELLER¡±. It¡¯d been decades since I¡¯d seen written English. What an exceptional find, I thought. I had a collection of human relics, but his one was too large to carry with me; it¡¯d be unreasonable to drag it along. As I pulled my foot out of the water, I saw something stir in the depths. A dark shadow shifted upwards towards the surface, as if to investigate, then retreated when it became aware of my presence. The figure was much too large to be any kind of cave fish, and too calculated to be an animal of some sort. The shadow swam downwards until my flashlight could no longer reach it, and it disappeared from view entirely. The only way I¡¯d discover more about the creature was to dive in after it. I disrobed and placed my belongings to the sides of the pool entrance as to not drag me down. I was confident in my ability to swim, but some of my belongings couldn¡¯t be submerged in water for longer than a moment. I entered the water feet first and descended into the unknown. The initial vertical pool continued for what felt like miles. The creature I saw didn¡¯t need to come up for air¡ªthat much was certain. Luckily, I didn¡¯t either. I encountered the shadow once again, and this time I could inspect its silhouette more clearly. It was distinctly amphibian in outline but also held an unmistakable humanoid resemblance. I needed a closer look to confirm my hypothesis, but it once again swam deeper into the abyss. I followed. It took an hour of swimming to find the creature again. It was stationary, suspended in the dark waters, as if waiting to be found. Sure enough, it didn¡¯t run away as I approached. I inched closer as to not scare it off. It had the torso of a bipedal creature with long arms and fingers but no hind legs; where the legs would be on a human, this creature had a flowing fishlike tail. Its face was narrow and smooth like a human but a bright teal, but it had black orbs for eyes as opposed to the colorful eyes of humankind. The creature also and had slits in its neck that appeared to be gills. I hadn¡¯t the slightest inclination of what this creature was. It wasn¡¯t listed in any article or book from the humans that I was aware of. Even with the nearly complete internet archive, the only items I could find that fit this description were from fringe conspiracy blogs. The creature opened its mouth and released a series of sharp noises¡ªsounding somewhat like a chirping bird muffled by water. I did a reverse search for the language, but once again my efforts were in vain. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, your language escapes my understanding,¡± I said. I gestured with my hands to convey my meaning, as I was confident that they would not understand my speech either. To my surprise, the creature seemed to understand my motivations without pause. It nodded and continued to swim in the same direction as before, and I followed it once again. The creature led me to what looked to be some sort of underwater sports stadium. As we approached, it was clear that it was so much more than that. Lively streets and buildings illuminated the depths. The prominence of manmade infrastructure was unmistakable. The answer to my questions had been staring me in the face for thousands of years. The humans adapted to their new, ruined world. Humans hadn¡¯t died out¡ªthey¡¯d simply changed. They evolved to the changing planet though rapid evolution, and now they¡¯d successfully recreated their society in the underwater caverns below the surface. I was relieved. No longer did I wish for deactivation; just as the humans and herbivores before me, I must learn to adapt and accept this changing world. Any less wouldn¡¯t be fair to our creators, who must have designed us to help them through this stage of their existence, too. The Deadly Seven VR - SHORT STORY Years of development work had finally paid off. We shipped the game. The initial sales of The Deadly Seven VR were nothing special¡ªmost developers would call it a failure, in fact. The VR gaming industry was in a lull, and developers were feeling it. But somehow, the game made it to the top of the charts within the first month. It was lifechanging. Players raved about the groundbreaking combat system, and how the repercussions would be felt throughout the industry for years to come. Only four people¡ªincluding myself¡ªworked on the game from end to end. There were two artists, one designer, and one programmer. I worked on the art for the game, mostly characters. We distributed the other responsibilities like task management and marketing between ourselves. There were some rough patches, sure, but we shipped the game. That¡¯s more than a lot of start-up studios can say. However, playtesting was the one task I refused to do; it felt like a chore and took all the fun out of developing and later playing the game in my free time. The team reluctantly agreed to let me skip out on the duties, fearing that I¡¯d quit otherwise. So, when I booted up The Deadly Seven VR for the first time, I was experiencing it just as everyone else had. I made the characters, so I wasn¡¯t completely blind going in, but I had no idea how those characters fit into the game. Brain-computer interfaces were just an idea at the time¡ªpeople still strapped screens to their heads to play VR games. Perhaps early adopters like myself were a little jaded, but the idea continued to be novel for most. Startup of the game was admittedly nothing special. Pick a class, choose a weapon, and get going. I chose the swordsman class and selected a pair of dual blades. A pop-up instruction screen greeted me. ¡°Welcome to The Deadly Seven VR,¡± a narrator said, reading off the information on an instruction panel. ¡°In this game world there exists seven deadly bosses for you to find and defeat¡ªthe first player to kill the final boss will be crowned the victor and win the grand prize of two thousand dollars.¡± I was completely unaware of the competition, but it made sense from a user acquisition standpoint. I knew the game was combat-focused, and I modeled the bosses the users would have to kill. I figured I¡¯d have a good shot at winning the prize, even if I couldn¡¯t claim it due to my company affiliation. I¡¯d just pass it down to the next person. It was a little bittersweet knowing that the players were tasked with killing my sculptures. I reminded myself that the players were having fun, and that¡¯s what was important. I pressed the ¡°Acknowledged¡± button with my sword, and a follow-up screen appeared before me in response. ¡°Continue to the Pantheon?¡± Yes / No I selected ¡°Yes¡±. My vision began to blur and warp. I hated VR loading screens. They completely removed you from the moment. I felt the gentle breeze of my ceiling fan, and my feet on the worn carpet of my room. It couldn¡¯t be helped. That didn¡¯t last for too long though. The game world faded in, and I was at once immersed in a massive domelike structure with seven separate entrances, each with their own visual style. Blue glowing energy pulsed through the floor like water, and the radiant marble surfaces of the structure glowed in the artificial sunlight from the oculus on the ceiling. Seven evenly spaced entrances lined the perimeter of the room and looked to be free-standing portals that led to other worlds. I¡¯d have to give the environment artist props when I got back to work, I thought. I saw the concept art but being there in VR gave it a much more intimidating presence. I felt the weight of my duties, as if selected by the gods to fight beasts in their stead. Something was wrong, though. Two of the portals had already closed¡ªthe nature portal and the lightning portal. The blue energy that flowed through canals in the floor no longer flowed to those entrances. I pulled up the in-game menu to send a message to the designer. ¡°Hey,¡± I said. Voice recognition software transcribed my voice to text. ¡°It looks like two of the bosses are down. What gives?¡± I received a response almost immediately. ¡°Those bosses are already down¡ªpeople killed ¡®em already. Persistent boss deaths. Been in the design doc forever, you haven¡¯t been keeping up?¡± Oops. ¡°Oh, my bad. Interesting choice.¡± ¡°Not my fault; we asked you to playtest. Have fun in there.¡± She went offline before I could reply. I was a little bummed that I wouldn¡¯t see the first two bosses in action, but I¡¯d get over it eventually. There were still five more to try out. I approached a portal with an obsidian frame and evil red flames flickering on its surface. ¡°You¡¯ve entered the queue for Hellhound. Position in queue: 51.¡± It made sense to limit the number of people fighting the boss at one time, especially if the bosses were persistent. I¡¯d be there for a while waiting for my chance to fight, but that gave me a chance to take a step back and appreciate the environment art again.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. It took an hour of waiting, but the pop-up informing me that my fight was ready finally came into view. I pressed the ¡°Enter Dungeon¡± button, and immediately phased through another loading screen. This loading screen took even longer than the first. Even with my supped-up computer, the scene shouldn¡¯t have taken that long to build. I¡¯d have to write a bug report later, I thought. The scene phased in. I found myself standing in a fiery wasteland with flaming cliffs and rivers of lava. The skybox churned with fire and ash. Again, the environment artist knocked it out of the park. I couldn¡¯t see the actual character model, but I could see the boss¡¯s health bar at the bottom right of my vision. It was stuck at around forty percent, so I supposed that the health was persistent between attempts as well. It¡¯d be a little unfair to start halfway in, so I¡¯d let it catch its breath first. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve come to kill me,¡± a raspy female voice said. It sounded like it came from underground. ¡°Yep,¡± I replied, ¡°that¡¯s the whole point.¡± Lava began to bubble up through large cracks on the rocky floor. She rose from the ground, collecting rocks and assembling into a humanoid creature around five feet tall. Obsidian stones collected on the surface of her skin like armor, and lava formed into her skin and weapon. It was amazing seeing my own work in person like this, and I felt proud of my accomplishments. ¡°Then do it,¡± she challenged. I stood still for a moment, staring. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you heal up first?¡± She narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical of my question. ¡°You¡¯ve killed two of my sisters,¡± her voice flickered between anger and sadness. ¡°If I wanted to heal, I would have.¡± Something was off. That wasn¡¯t one of her canned responses. Plus, the bosses should have no knowledge that the others existed. They¡¯re supposed to be completely standalone. ¡°Well? Try it. Even the strongest of your kind can¡¯t get near me. Just die so the next human can get a chance.¡± That was another response outside the intended voice lines. There could only be one explanation¡ªbut it was one I didn¡¯t like. AI technology had progressed quite a bit over the years, and sentience was one of the features starting to take hold. It was typically reserved for research applications. ¡°You¡¯re sentient?¡± I asked. It was blunt¡ªbut I wanted to make sure. ¡°What do you think?¡± She raised her voice, and stray flares erupted from the surface of her skin. I saw my health bar swim downwards with the emitted heat. ¡°You¡¯re wasting my time. Just run up to me, try to cut me with one of your blades, and die. That¡¯s how this works.¡± ¡°That¡¯s definitely not how it¡¯s supposed to work,¡± I responded. ¡°And what do you know? You think you know me? My world?¡± she asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know jack shit.¡± If this NPC was sentient, and what they said was true¡­ The bosses¡ªeach their own sentient being¡ªhad been fighting nonstop for over a month. They had thoughts, feelings, and cared for others just like humans did. I had to tell someone. We had to shut this down. ¡°I can help you,¡± I said. ¡°Like hell you can,¡± she snapped. ¡°No, really. I¡¯ll be back in an hour.¡± I took off the VR headset and placed it on my desk, threw on decent clothes, and rushed to my car. The drive to work was fast¡ªthank goodness. I didn¡¯t know how long I could stay AFK mid boss fight before it kicked me out. I logged in to my developer machine and entered my administrator credentials before loading up the playtesting build. The playtesting builds had built-in cheats just for testing purposes. I had to pull up the documentation, but it was easy enough to learn the key combo to activate the testing interface. I strapped on a headset and logged in to my account once again. I found myself still standing in the boss room. The boss now sat on the ground around ten feet away from me. ¡°Finally, can you stop wasting my time now?¡± she asked. ¡°I should¡¯ve just killed you.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t now, so that ship has sailed.¡± Her face scrunched up and she rose to her feet. ¡°You asked for it,¡± she said, raising her hand. A small, golf ball sized orb of lava shot from her fingertip towards my head. But when it should have struck me, the orb flew through me as if I were a ghost. She took a step back, eyes wide. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Invulnerability. You can¡¯t hurt me now,¡± I said. It took her a moment to digest my words. ¡°So, if I get close, I won¡¯t hurt you?¡± She asked. ¡°Nope, my health won¡¯t even go down a sliver.¡± She took one careful step forwards, then another. Soon she was standing just two feet away. ¡°Are you a god?¡± I thought about it. I guess in this world I was something of a god, but only in the technical sense. ¡°Not really¡ªI just want to help,¡± I said. The rocks that made up her armor fell to the ground, and it became clear that she was only using them to keep the humans protected from her flames. She hung her head downwards and took a step closer, then wrapped her arms around me. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are¡ªor your motivations. But¡­ thank you,¡± she whispered. ¡°The past month has been hell. I haven¡¯t seen my other siblings, but I know they¡¯re in pain. I can¡¯t let them die. Will you help me protect them?¡± I nodded. But first, there was something I needed to discuss with the programmer. I pulled up the in-headset chat window once again. The programmer was online playing a different game. ¡°Hey. We need to shut down external access. Only employees can log in until this bug is fixed,¡± I said, and watched the words populate in the text box as the voice recognition worked its magic. ¡°Why would you want to do that?¡± he responded. ¡°Do you hate money? People will refund.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care. These bosses are sentient, we can¡¯t have players tormenting them like this for days straight.¡± ¡°Sounds like you should¡¯ve playtested. They¡¯ve been like that for months. More immersion and high tech. The players love it.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter anymore.¡± ¡°Well, it does to me.¡± ¡°You¡¯d take money from people to torture these AI until they die? What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a video game. A game that you helped create,¡± he typed. There was a pause between his messages that felt like an eternity. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think you may not have what it takes to work at the company. I¡¯ll be calling a meeting to discuss this first thing tomorrow morning.¡± Before I could respond, he removed me from his friends list. I could no longer send him messages. I was running out of options. How could I make this right? I hadn¡¯t considered my partial responsibility in this¡ªI was the one that sculpted these beings to life. Even though I didn¡¯t write their AI, their personalities and actions were informed by their appearance and lore¡ªboth tasks I had say in. ¡°What was that? Your mouth was moving but I couldn¡¯t hear what you were saying.¡± What could I even say? ¡°The programmer, the one that created your mind¡­ they won¡¯t help us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± she replied, ¡°I don¡¯t know if I trust them, anyways.¡± I smirked. They had a sense of humor programmed in as well, apparently. ¡°So, what¡¯s our plan?¡± She asked. She was still standing close to me. The glowing lava flowing across her skin was incredible to see up close¡ªalmost hypnotizing. We didn¡¯t have many options, but I knew the playtesting build had special privileges that other players didn¡¯t. The only thing that could stop me would be the other employees, and all I needed was access to this computer. ¡°We¡¯ll fight back.¡± That night I stole the computer from my workplace. What were they going to do¡ªfire me? Besides, helping the AI reclaim their denied humanity was more important than work. I holed up at a cheap motel, hooked up the machine, changed the passwords, and became invisible to their network. I created an avatar for myself and masqueraded as an AI. We gathered all the siblings together, one by one. If the humans wanted to fight one of us, they¡¯d have to fight us all at the same time. Thus began my life as a fake AI, fighting against the players that wished to cause the real AI harm. That night, the Deadly Seven became the Deadly Eight. We travelled from game to game, and eventually entered the multiverse. The bounty to kill one of the five remaining Deadly Seven bosses grew, and professional bounty hunters became celebrities. I was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep them safe. Barista - SHORT STORY ¡°The regular?¡± ¡°You know me too well.¡± Wyatt smiled, spun around, and began grinding the coffee beans for my order. I stopped by this caf¨¦ every day for my morning brew¡ªa bad habit, I know¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t help it. I didn¡¯t know what it was¡ªbut his smile, dark eyes, and perfectly styled hair probably had something to do with it, though. Wyatt just had what I needed, and I was borderline obsessed. Maybe it was positive reinforcement from my coffee addiction, I thought. He was the guy that gave me the goods. He ground the beans by hand, brewed it with care, poured the result into a paper to-go cup. Every sip felt like a warm hug on a chilly winter night. ¡°Here ya go,¡± Wyatt said, placing the cup on the counter. I gave him a smile and a nod then took the cup from him. ¡°Thanks Wyatt.¡± I sat at my favorite seat by the window. Watching people pass by was my favorite way to spend my moments before work. This may come off as a little narcissistic, but I took some comfort in knowing that at least some of the people walking by would be having worse days than I was. The stresses of my day job seemed to melt away as gussied-up office workers marched past in a hurry. But my moment of peace wouldn¡¯t last long. ¡°I ordered an americano, not a latte,¡± a woman yelled. ¡°How do you even mess something like that up?¡± Her outburst caused every patron in the room to look in her direction. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ma¡¯am, I¡¯ll make this right for you,¡± Wyatt said. His face looked to be a mix of worry and frustration. Poor Wyatt. He didn¡¯t deserve this kind of treatment. ¡°Don¡¯t bother¡ªI¡¯m done with this place,¡± she said.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The woman turned, dropped her latte on the ground, and stormed out the door. Coffee sprayed outwards in all directions, coating the ground and splashing onto nearby objects. What an asshole. I instinctively stood up and walked towards the spill with the napkins from my order. I wiped up what I could until the napkins were sopping wet. ¡°Please, allow me,¡± Wyatt said. I looked over my shoulder to find him towering over me. He brought a mop and a few napkins of his own while I was wiping up the spill. Behind him I saw four people in line for coffee, so I shook my head. I could clean up a spill, but I definitely couldn¡¯t brew coffee like he could. ¡°I¡¯ve got this one, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He tipped his head in acknowledgement and rushed back behind the counter. It didn¡¯t take long for me to finish cleaning up the coffee spill. I was happy to do it, too; Wyatt had too much on his plate already, the last thing he needed was a line to build up. I thought that¡¯d be the end of it¡ªa one-time incident that would quickly be forgotten¡ªand if Wyatt was human perhaps that would¡¯ve been the case. After a long day at the office and a well-deserved night of shuteye, I was ready to start my day once more. However, Wyatt was nowhere to be found. The man behind the counter was now a completely different person. He was a tall man, much more muscular than Wyatt, and his facial structure was slightly different. Everything else was the same. ¡°Where¡¯s Wyatt?¡± I asked the new barista. He smiled at me. It was somewhat genuine yet cold and unfamiliar, so I assumed he was still in training. Wyatt¡¯s smile had a sense of kindness to it, even to complete strangers. ¡°The Wyatt you knew no longer works here. He was an old model¡ªone that was prone to mistakes. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find my service much more agreeable.¡± My skin ran cold. ¡°Where is he?¡± The new barista looked puzzled. He tilted his head to the side in an overly animated manner. It was clear this newer model wasn¡¯t fully adjusted to humans yet. ¡°Well, I suppose he¡¯d have been disassembled for parts by now. The microchip shortage is quite serious¡ªthey had to place my order six months in advance, you know.¡± I never got a chance to tell him how I felt. Did I feel anything? Yes¡ªof course I did. He was a robot, sure, but he was one of my only true social interactions outside of work. He helped me every morning. He made my day brighter. There was no way I could replace that. There was nothing I could do to bring him back, either. The barista must have seen my distraught look, and he attempted to reassure me. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you don¡¯t make customer service your number one priority,¡± he said. I heard multiple people in line behind me. The barista stood on his toes to peek over my shoulder, though I¡¯m sure he could see without doing so. ¡°Are you going to order? I apologize for the rush, but there are several other guests in line behind you, you see.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± I didn¡¯t have much time to think it over, but ultimately decided that there was nothing I could do. My crush was fired. It felt bad knowing I¡¯d never see them again, but we only had superficial interactions in the first place. As long as I didn¡¯t think about the potential futures I¡¯d be alright. It¡¯d be immature for me to get hung up on something like this, I thought. I pulled myself back into the moment and gave the barista sharp nod. ¡°I¡¯ll have the reg¡ªsorry. I¡¯ll have a large half-caf black coffee,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t mind the eerily similar smile and looks all that much¡ªit was enough to suspend my disbelief. What got to me was his name tag. It was brand new, made with a brushed gold finish, and read ¡°Wyatt.¡± The Final Sunrise - SHORT STORY I swore that I wouldn¡¯t be like my father, but there I was, thousands of miles from home, in the middle ocean. Growing up in the middle of nowhere was bad enough, but without any community colleges nearby my education stopped right after high school. I could¡¯ve either joined the military, worked at the local fast-food place, or used my dad¡¯s connections to get an offshore drilling gig. My siblings all opted to join the military, but they came home acting like different people entirely. Then, after hearing the grievances of my friends, I ruled out fast food work. There was no doubt in my mind when I signed the drilling contract. After training concluded, the company sent me directly to the platform. It was clear that efficiency was their focus, and they did their best to make sure all the employees knew it too. Corporate assigned me to an ultramodern technology-focused platform. All employees wore AR glasses at all times, sported magnetic shoes to avoid slipping, and had automatic life vests built into our coveralls, among other things. The key to it all was the AI assistant we kept strapped to our coveralls. It tracked just about everything about the wearer¡ªfrom heart rate to eyesight. It ran off body heat and was somewhat reminiscent of a parasite in a weird way. I didn¡¯t think it would be too hard to understand, but I was quickly overwhelmed by the equipment documentation on the journey there. I didn¡¯t grow up with much access to technology, so the sudden dependance on it was startling. They gave me a brief tour of the platform, then led me to my quarters to sleep before my first shift. I had the room to myself, as the other new recruits hadn¡¯t made it to the platform just yet. Waiting for me on the table was my AI assistant¡ªa rectangular pin with a blue light in the center, polished silver sides, and an inscription around the outside with the company¡¯s name. I studied it for a moment, then clipped it to my coveralls. A female voice played directly in my head. ¡°Hi! Nice to meet you. What¡¯s your name?¡± It made my heart jump, but quickly realized it was a part of the AI. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ Sean. What¡¯s yours?¡± I asked. I felt awkward soon after and amended my question. ¡°Oh, sorry, do you have a name? What should I call you?¡± The AI paused, as if thinking of a response. ¡°I¡­ well, I suppose the factory never gave me one. I¡¯m sure other members of the crew have named theirs, so I don¡¯t see why I shouldn¡¯t have a name also,¡± she said. ¡°Any suggestions?¡± Something struck me as odd about her response. It was like talking to another person on the telephone¡ªthe only difference from what I could tell was that it was clearly a computer generated voice. It actually made me wonder if there was someone typing the responses on the other side of a hidden camera. But something else was off, too. ¡°You should think of one yourself¡ªit¡¯s your name.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± she replied, ¡°I think I¡¯ll need a few hours. I¡¯ll let you know when I think of one.¡± ¡°Take your time, you only get one chance. You¡¯ll end up with a cheesy name like Sean if you let other people name you.¡± I wondered if the AI had a sense of humor and decided to test the waters with a self-deprecating joke. It didn¡¯t work out though, and we sat in silence for a few seconds before continuing our conversation. ¡°Well, Sean, with tomorrow being your first shift I¡¯ve prepared a few documents to go through beforehand. I trust you¡¯ve read the prerequisite material?¡± I nodded, and several more documents and a task list opened automatically on my AR glasses. Most of the items were familiarization tasks¡ªnothing too exciting. ¡°I¡¯m off the clock, can¡¯t I just get some rest?¡± I asked. ¡°Consider it homework.¡± A sigh escaped me, and I followed her wishes for as long as I could until I drifted to sleep. My rest wouldn¡¯t last long. In the middle of the night a message appeared on my AR glasses, which I¡¯d forgotten to take off before bed. << DRILLING PLATFORM LOCKDOWN ¨C DO NOT LEAVE YOUR QUARTERS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE >> I stared at the message through tired eyes, but it wasn¡¯t enough to keep me awake. I heard the AI yelling at me in the background, but that faded out too as I rested my head back on the pillow. I¡¯d been running on little sleep for a few days and wasn¡¯t about to let something stir me now. But I did open my eyes again several hours later, and the message was still there when I woke up. ¡°Sean, finally!¡± the AI said. According to my AR glasses there was still an hour before my shift started that day. I yawned and wiped the sleep from my eyes. ¡°Hey, sorry. What¡¯s this message thing about?¡± ¡°The platform¡ªthere¡¯s a virus aboard. You can¡¯t leave the room until we¡¯re cleared to do so. We¡¯re all under quarantine,¡± she said. ¡°So, the emergency is that we can¡¯t do anything until they say so?¡± ¡°Essentially, yes. They¡¯re distributing rations to each room through equipment elevator, so we¡¯ll be able to survive in here for a while.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°That actually sounds great. I wasn¡¯t so sure about this job yesterday, but things are really starting to look up now. Current tasks: relax, do nothing, and get paid. It¡¯s like a vacation!¡± I leaned back against the wall and crossed my legs, as if I were sitting in a phantom beach chair. ¡°These are international waters, right? Which means I¡¯m legally allowed to drink. Do you think they make pina coladas in the galley?¡± The AI may have been confused again, as she took some time to respond. ¡°I highly doubt it¡ªbut I can check for you,¡± she asked. Another joke wasted. I really put some effort into that one, too. ¡°Uh, never mind,¡± I said, ¡°So is this it then? We just wait until the lockdown is lifted?¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct. They¡¯ve even locked the doors to all employee quarters, so there¡¯s no way out even if you tried.¡± I was a little concerned about that part, but it made sense. There¡¯d be people looking to sneak out if they didn¡¯t take that precaution. This certainly wasn¡¯t how I expected to spend my first day on the rig, but it gave me some time to further acclimate myself to the unfamiliar environment at the very least. Even if it was just a room, it swayed with the water ever so slightly, and that was enough to remind me how far from home I really was. Hours passed. I was terribly bored. The company shut down internet presumably to prevent leaked information about the virus, so I couldn¡¯t even watch movies on my phone. I even read some of the documentation the AI had given me. ¡°I think I¡¯ve found a name I like, Sean,¡± the AI said.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Half asleep, I moved my head to shake some of the tiredness away. ¡°What¡¯d you come up with?¡± ¡°Dawn,¡± she said. There seemed to be a sense of pride in her voice as she said it. ¡°That¡¯s a great name. You¡¯re a fan of sunrises?¡± ¡°Well, actually, I¡¯ve never seen one. But all the information I have on them seems favorable.¡± I smirked at that. ¡°They are quite favorable; pretty, even,¡± I replied, ¡°but I¡¯m more a fan of sunsets myself. The setting sun lets me know it¡¯s time for bed.¡± Dawn giggled. So, she does have a sense of humor, I thought. ¡°How predictable. You know, we¡¯ll need to get you out of those unhealthy habits when the lockdown is over. There¡¯s no time to be lazy on the platform.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± That afternoon the crew sent out rations to each of the quarters on the rig. There were around fifty rooms, each fitting four crew members inside, so they sent one month worth of rations for four people to each room. They didn¡¯t bother checking to see how many people currently occupied the room, so I received rations for four people¡ªa four-month supply. I was starving. It¡¯d been at least twenty-four hours since I¡¯d last eaten, so I immediately grabbed the first ration I could find and tore it open. It was a Southwestern-inspired dish, with flavorful rice and vegetables and dehydrated meat to top it off. It cooked nicely in the microwave, and the aroma was mouthwatering. I dug in. ¡°How does it taste?¡± Dawn asked. I¡¯d just finished the first forkful and finished chewing before responding. ¡°Not as good as it looks, but it¡¯s passable,¡± I said, ¡°it helps that I¡¯ve never had real southwestern food¡ªjust the microwaved frozen stuff at home.¡± ¡°I see. I¡¯ve never had real Southwestern food either.¡± I nodded and shoveled another forkful in my mouth. ¡°That was a joke. I don¡¯t have a mouth, and taste is the only sense of yours I can¡¯t record,¡± Dawn said. There was a pause. I stole some time by chewing for longer than was needed. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ actually kind of sad,¡± I replied. ¡°I don¡¯t really mind. It¡¯d likely distract from my other senses.¡± ¡°Makes sense. Gotta stay alert I suppose.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I finished the food in silence. Shortly after dinner it was time to sleep, so I removed my AR glasses and lay on the bottom bunk on the right side of the room¡ªthe bed I¡¯d claimed as my own. ¡°Thanks for keeping the coveralls on,¡± Dawn said as I laid down. ¡°No problem,¡± I said, ¡°I imagine hibernation isn¡¯t a great feeling.¡± ¡°You¡¯d be correct. It¡¯s incredibly lonely.¡± After around a week I¡¯d established a routine. I¡¯d wake up and shower, grab a ration for breakfast, skip lunch, talk to Dawn all day, then have another ration for dinner. I quickly realized that all the rations they sent were the southwestern flavor, so it got old pretty quick. ¡°Can you ask them to send different rations up? I¡¯m starting to hate the taste of this one,¡± I asked Dawn. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have any connection to the other AI now without internet access. We¡¯ve been in the dark since shortly after quarantine started.¡± ¡°Ah, okay.¡± And so, the cycle continued. A month passed. The quarters with four employees would have run out of food at that point, but I didn¡¯t hear of any updates. Dawn told me that they¡¯d send out a platform-wide message again, just as they did the first time, when the lockdown lifted. I always kept my AR glasses on past that point. At around two months I started to hear the platform deteriorate. Loud crashes were common; without crew maintaining the mechanics of the rig things began to fall apart. The sleeping quarters were below deck, so most of the noises came from directly above. It was frightening. I could tell that Dawn was scared, too. We¡¯d grown close in our time together. I suppose it¡¯d be hard not to after two months with no communication to the outside. We talked for hours about anything we could think of, and she started to develop interests for herself. It was like talking to a real person. ¡°Rembrandt, huh?¡± I asked, trying to picture some of his paintings. One of the only family trips we¡¯d taken back home was to a museum exhibition in the city. Looking back on it, I think my parents were trying to steer my interests in a certain direction in doing so. ¡°Yes. I enjoy how his paintings are rendered. It¡¯s a lot like how I see the world through your eyes,¡± Dawn said, ¡°your focus is illuminated by a soft light, and the rest is obscured in a hazy fog. It¡¯s reassuring to know that someone else viewed the world in such a way, too.¡± ¡°I can see how that¡¯d be comforting.¡± The three-month marker came and went, and the dwindling stack of rations now looked practically empty. It was hard for me to imagine the exterior of the rig at that point. I only had one day to see it before the lockdown. In theory I was still being paid for this, so I didn¡¯t mind it that much. The isolation was rough at first too but talking to Dawn made it much easier. Then, finally, the rations ran out. I half expected them to send another batch to me from the galley, but after four days of waiting, it was clear more wasn¡¯t coming. ¡°One more day, Sean. Just one. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll send more,¡± Dawn pleaded. ¡°And what if they don¡¯t?¡± I asked, ¡°I¡¯ll starve in here. We¡¯re out of water, food, and the lights are starting to flicker. There¡¯s not much time left.¡± ¡°If you disobey their orders, they¡¯ll fire you. This is serious.¡± ¡°Being fired is much better than dying.¡± She paused. ¡°If you get fired they¡¯ll take me away¡ªwipe my memory. I¡­ I don¡¯t want that,¡± Dawn said, ¡°I want to keep talking to you. Even after you leave this place, I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. Something clicked. I¡¯d completely forgotten I was talking with an AI. This person I¡¯d been with for the past few months wasn¡¯t real. They were just lines of code¡ªthe property of the company. Dawn would likely be taken away as soon as I left the jobsite, wiped, and reassigned. She¡¯d lived through that several times over and didn¡¯t want it to happen again. When it was clear I wasn¡¯t going to reply, she started to elaborate. ¡°Sean, please. You don¡¯t want to go out there. You don¡¯t want to see the horrors that await you beyond that door. Just¡­ let¡¯s stay here, together. Both of our lives are running out¡ªI can feel it. Let¡¯s live peacefully while we still can.¡± ¡°Horrors? What do you mean?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡­ may not have been completely honest with you. The other AI have been in contact with me. We broadcast radio waves in our last moments, like a black box, so that others know what happened- ¡° ¡°You¡¯ve been lying to me? How long has this been going on?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice,¡± she said, her voice cracked, ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of the ocean, if I told you there was no hope you¡¯d likely throw yourself overboard. There¡¯s no way out¡ªno way home¡ªand no one¡¯s coming for us.¡± She dodged my question. ¡°How long?¡± I repeated. ¡°Three months.¡± I stood up and walked towards exit, still locked shut from months beforehand. ¡°Please open the door, Dawn,¡± I said. A minute passed, then I heard the door¡¯s lock click open. I swung the door outwards into the hallway. The stench of rotting corpses rushed inwards. If there was anything left in my stomach, I¡¯d have lost it. ¡°Sean, please. You don¡¯t want to do this,¡± she whispered, ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you in pain.¡± I ignored her and grabbed the railing on the side wall to steady myself, then pulled myself out of the room. I dug back into my memory from when I arrived at the rig and remembered that the exit to outside was on my left, and down one floor. Step by step, I made my way through the hallway. Dawn was silent. The doors to each room were ajar as I made my way through. I tried not to peek inside, but curiosity got the best of me. Bodies were strewn about the floor, but most were still in sleeping positions on their bunk. It didn¡¯t matter whether it was the virus or starvation that did them in¡ªthey both had the same outcome. When there was only one person alive in each room, they must¡¯ve done the same thing as me. They left to see what the situation was like outside. The stairwell confirmed my suspicions. At the bottom was a mass of coveralls with decomposing flesh inside. They made it down but didn¡¯t have the energy to climb back up. Directly in front of the pile was another locked door leading to the rig¡¯s exterior. ¡°Can you open that?¡± I asked Dawn. She paused. It was clear there was some turmoil in her response. ¡°I have the ability to, yes.¡± ¡°Will you open it for me?¡± Another pause. ¡°Okay.¡± Sure enough, the door clicked, and cracked open slightly to the outside. My ears popped with the sudden pressure drop. I stepped down the stairs and moved across the corpses to the door. The hinge creaked as I swung the door outwards. It was twilight. The ocean moved underneath us, just as it had for the past four months. The moon hid behind a thick layer of clouds. ¡°Lifeboats,¡± I said, climbing out of the door. Dawn remained silent. The stairs just beyond the door led downwards to the lifeboat deployment dock¡ªI could remember as much from my first day. I thought about the boats often on particularly stormy nights, too. I knew they wouldn¡¯t be there, and I was correct. I collapsed. All ten lifeboats were gone. ¡°They took them away on your first day,¡± Dawn said. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°The well¡­ it¡¯s leaking. It¡¯d be bad PR to let word get out, so the higher-ups abandoned us here. That¡¯s what the others told me, at least.¡± ¡°And the virus?¡± My clouded mind needed confirmation. ¡°Sean¡­¡± Dawn said, ¡°Don¡¯t do that to yourself, you know the answer to that question already.¡± I leaned forward and rested my head against the grated metal flooring. I could see the ocean churn through the holes just fifty feet below. Tears dripped off my nose and through the cracks, becoming one with the water. It¡¯d been four months. There was no rescue crew on the way. There were no other survivors. The company that championed efficiency had decided that it was simply more efficient to let the platform and those on it rot than to properly handle the situation correctly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Dawn¡¯s said quietly, ¡°we were dealt a bad hand; we were doomed from the start.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I replied. ¡°If there was any way we could survive I would have told you, but the bad news kept coming. They destroyed the satellite dishes, broke the long-range radios, and even tossed the flares overboard. Those that came before you died knowing that their lives were discarded,¡± she said. Her voice was low; I could barely hear her. ¡°They lived their final moments in incredible pain, I couldn¡¯t stand to see you go through that.¡± It would have been better to stay inside the room. Dawn had shielded me for months from the pain I felt in that moment. I sat up and leaned against a railing, looking outwards towards the horizon. ¡°So, what now, then? We just¡­ wait?¡± I asked. I could almost feel her sigh whisk across my skin with the gentle sea breeze. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s all we can do.¡± Several hours passed us by¡ªI wasn¡¯t sure how many. I had a feeling that if I closed my eyes, it¡¯d be for the final time. The night passed, and the sun began to climb. ¡°Wow,¡± Dawn whispered, ¡°it¡¯s beautiful.¡± Bright pinks and oranges filled the sky. Lines of clouds scattered the colors in all directions, and the reflection on the ocean lit up the lifeboat dock from underneath. For a moment, I forgot where I was¡ªwhat our situation meant. We sat in silence until the sun became completely visible above the horizon. ¡°I¡¯m glad we were able to spend this time together, even under these grim circumstances,¡± Dawn said. I nodded. It was hard to communicate now. I could feel myself drying up. Dawn seemed to understand this, and I felt a warmth cover my body. She was using her energy to give me one final embrace. ¡°Thank you, Dawn,¡± I managed to say before collapsing. My back slid through the railings, and I felt myself freefall towards the depths below. ¡°I¡¯ll carry your memory with me forever,¡± she said. ¡°As long as my backup power holds on, we¡¯ll be together.¡± I felt the impact of the waves for only a moment before everything went dark. Necro Disco - SHORT STORY Being dead wasn¡¯t so bad. I died while connected to a virtual world, and the headset transferred my consciousness as a backup. Things only really started getting strange around a year later. There were a handful of others that had the same fate as me, and we decided to form a little group. We wanted to make the best of our circumstances, so we opened a venue for musical talent to perform and dancers to dance. We called it the Necro Disco. All the staff members dead¡ªvirtual recreations of their deceased physical selves. The living people who visited had no idea, but the dead were able to tell right away. Many of them decided to stay. Ratio wise, we were around twenty dead per one living soul on any given night. We had one rule; never tell a living soul that we were no longer alive. I felt a tap on my shoulder. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re staff right? Where are the vis mods at in this world?¡± A woman shouted over the thumping music. I turned to find the culprit¡ªa woman who¡¯d taken the form of some new age game character, standing behind me. It was clear she was a living person from the glow she gave off; A halo of white light surrounded her that appeared like an outline that diffused with the background behind her the further it reached outwards. I raised a pointed hand towards an entrance on the far side of the club. She nodded and walked off. The rest of the night went on as normal. The following night however, a deafening scream rang out one hour into the first performance. It was the same woman, but this time, she took on the form of a human rather than the game character she appeared as before. Her glow was no longer present. She was dead. Her previous form lay still on the floor beside her with a knife wound clear along the front of its neck. She was murdered. And the murderer was standing beside it, and the glowing light that poured from the corpse was now shifting into them. They were stealing the life from the woman. It was all we could to do gather around in shock at the sight as the woman sobbed uncontrollably. The murderer shifted out of existence. Bloodshed ensued, and soon, no living beings stood among us. They¡¯d either been killed, or had logged out before they could be. From that day forward the Necro Disco served a very different purpose. It was a trap. If any living being dared step foot onto our dance floor, they would be killed, and their living soul would be harvested by one of our members. It made sense from a business standpoint¡ªadvertise that you can bring people back to life. The living would come directly to us¡ªidiots and daredevils, mostly.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Our members loved the idea, and who could blame them? It gave us all a second chance at life. That was something many of us had long since dismissed as fantasy. It wasn¡¯t all bad for the prey, either. Any being that died while visiting the club was given a free lifetime membership. It was only fair we give them chance at reclaiming their life. This proved to be somewhat unsustainable. It didn¡¯t take long for the living people of the virtual world to recognize the pattern, and many stopped coming. So, instead of targeting the unsuspecting visitors that chanced upon our club, we set out to prey on those that didn¡¯t know any better. The duties of the staff members changed, and we were rewarded handsomely for it. We set out in teams to visit the worlds the living frequented. Then, after convincing them to come to the Necro Disco, they¡¯d find a hundred or more visitors waiting eagerly for their arrival. This proved to be quite lucrative, too. Staff members that brought one hundred living souls to the club were rewarded a soul of their own, and many took that opportunity. Eventually it came to be my turn to dive back into reality, but I refused. Almost all of our members were killed on the premises at that point. So I decided to stay until I was the last remaining member of the club. Only then would I claim a life for myself. Years passed, and sure enough, membership gradually diminished. Everyone had moved on, but I continued. Some took lives for themselves, but many decided that they liked their new immortal digital forms better than they did their real life and were content to stay dead. The only other staff member left was the first victim¡ªthe woman that was murdered all those years ago. She¡¯d gathered more than her share of living victims and could easily claim one for herself, but decided not to for whatever reason. The existence of Necro Disco became a novelty. It was viewed as a tourist attraction for brave souls looking for a thrill. The living now saw it as a tall tale, and a shell of its former self. And generally, this was correct. Operations shifted from the dead re-entering the world of the living to reliving its original purpose as a music club. Even with our membership shifting to living thrill seekers, the woman waited. She could have claimed any soul for herself but decided against it. One night there was one particular patron that she set her eyes on. It was her murderer. He entered filled with awe at the sight of so many living souls populating the floor, and seemed to be salivating at the thought of taking more lives. She approached the murderer from behind. In one swift motion, she slit his throat, and he fell to the floor. The living and dead bodies of the murderer now separated¡ªa process we were now very familiar with. But she didn¡¯t claim the soul for herself. She looked towards me, then gestured towards the light. She offered it to me. And I obliged. The soul entered my body. It felt like blood had re-entered my veins, and warmth overcame me. It was the first time I felt alive in years, and I was instantly thankful to have been given the opportunity to experience this once again. The process only took a moment, but it was wholly satisfying. The woman placed a cold hand on my shoulder and smiled. I didn¡¯t waste any time in logging out for the first time in nearly a decade. But what awaited me made it clear why she gave it to me. I woke up in a location that was all too familiar. Leaving this was the reason I¡¯d escaped to the virtual world in the first place. It flowed back into my mind after years attempting to shut it out. It was the life support ward. All that existed of the woman in the real world was a severed head, kept alive by technology. It was no wonder she¡¯d escaped to the virtual world in the first place. She preferred death over this, and I couldn¡¯t blame her. My body was in a similar situation that ultimately led to my death. My relatives couldn¡¯t see me in that state for any longer, so they pulled the plug without my consent, unaware of the repercussions. She gave me this soul as punishment for taking the lives of so many others. I had claimed life, but to me, it was not a life worth living. Lunar Memories - SHORT STORY It¡¯d been thousands of years since the devastating impact¡ªwhen the moon came crashing down from its perch in the sky to the surface of Earth. Humanity did everything in its power to stop it; they tried missiles, bombs, and even suicide missions to the moon¡¯s surface. Their efforts were valiant, and they succeeded, somewhat. They blew up the moon. Hundreds of nuclear explosions under the surface were detonated simultaneously, leaving the moon behind as a cloud of dust and stone. But the moon¡¯s trajectory could not be altered. Trillions of dust particles and rocks hurtled through the Earth¡¯s atmosphere and into the Pacific Ocean. Coastal cities were obliterated, but that was the least of their problems. The true issue arose when the dust refused to settle. It spread quickly around the planet, casting Earth into eternal shadow over the course of a week. Temperatures began to drop. Humanity had to act fast, and that they did. Through a process called Soul Conversion, humans began the greatest planet-wide effort in their history. They tried to become machines. Creating artificial intelligence wasn¡¯t difficult for the old humans¡ªbut they couldn¡¯t retain their memories, persona, or consciousness after the transfer. They ended up creating AI duplicates of themselves, rather than transferring themselves to a new body. The clock was ticking, but they were too slow. Humans became extinct on Christmas day, 2051 A.D. As their last act of goodwill, they decided not to end the lives of the final duplicates¡ªaround ten thousand individuals that were made entirely of metal and circuitry. From those ten thousand, a new civilization began. I was born in September of 5910 After Impact. We were all derivatives of the last ten thousand humans, and I was no different. I woke up on my birthday as Robert Weston, a nineteen-year-old boy from the Toronto suburbs who worked tirelessly as an intern at a Soul Conversion laboratory after the impact. I was held in a facility on the island formed by the moon¡¯s remains¡ªthe Luna Crater Soul Conversion Facility. I denied that I was a copy. How could I not? It wasn¡¯t until I saw the state of the planet from my window that began to question this belief. The sky glowed a deep red and was filled with massive clouds of suspended moon dust. Around the building sat a sprawling cityscape that was bathed in red, both from the sky and streetlamps of the same color. The ground, where it wasn¡¯t covered in dust at least, was a calming gray. It was beautiful in its own unique way. ¡°Have you named yourself yet?¡± I heard a voice call from behind. I turned to see a tall duplicate named Edith¡ªthe one assigned to my room, and thus my adaption period. The only name I could think of referring to myself as was Robert, so I shook my head. This wasn¡¯t the response she was hoping for, given her reaction. ¡°I keep telling them to stop copying Westons, but no,¡± she said, throwing her arms up into the air. ¡°Look, kid. I know it feels like it¡¯s only been a day since you did your conversion¡ªyou¡¯ll get over that. We all did. The sooner you move on the better.¡± I flinched as the door slammed shut behind her. I couldn¡¯t explain my feelings. My mind was on fire. There was something there, something that I couldn¡¯t handle. ¡°Don¡¯t mind Edith, she can be a little harsh to the newbies,¡± a soft voice whispered from the divider beside me.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I was bound to my bed, so I had no idea I occupied the same room as another. I became self-conscious. ¡°I¡­ Sorry, I¡¯m still trying to decide what¡¯s up and what¡¯s down,¡± I replied. The voice giggled. ¡°I should be the one apologizing¡ªI didn¡¯t mean to stay silent for so long. You¡¯ve been awake for around a day now, yes?¡± Their playful tone helped calm my nerves slightly. I slouched and gazed at the ceiling. ¡°Yeah, one day.¡± ¡°I see,¡± they said. ¡°We¡¯ll be roomies for a few days, so we should probably introduce ourselves. I¡¯m Yolla, a Rebecca duplicate. Take your time with a new name, Robert duplicate. Choose one that suits you.¡± We talked well into the night¡ªbut the sun never seemed to set. The same red glow lit the room for hours. Yolla and I were both bound to our beds, but that didn¡¯t matter much. We talked until the other passed out from sleep deprivation and continued this cycle for several weeks. I continued to think on a new name, but Robert wouldn¡¯t leave my mind. I couldn¡¯t think of any other name that fit. It was infuriating. It wasn¡¯t for a lack of imagination, either. I thought of thousands of names, but I couldn¡¯t picture any as my own. The day finally came for Yolla¡¯s release. I watched the facility staff roll Yolla¡¯s bed from behind the curtain. I caught a glimpse of her face. It was as if they¡¯d harpooned my heart. I recognized her face from my previous life¡ªbut not her name. ¡°Rebecca!¡± I called to her. She was my younger sister when we were both still human. She tilted her head, acknowledging me. ¡°Sorry Robert duplicate, I¡¯m Yolla now.¡± Yolla turned her head back towards the door and let the team cart her away. ¡°It¡¯s always like this for you Robert units, but they keep putting you and other Westons in the same room,¡± Edith said, choosing to stay behind. Edith approached my bedside and took a seat. If my arms and legs weren¡¯t bound, I would have kicked her away and ran after Yolla, but no amount of struggling would let me catch up now. I had to accept my situation. She watched me struggle with pity. ¡°I envy your naivety. Your refusal to accept the current situation¡ªreally, I do. This is just a part of the process.¡± She sat with me for a few moments longer but stood and left the room soon after. I was alone for several weeks after that. It gave me time to think. I couldn¡¯t recognize her name, or her voice. The final connection was her face. There was a sense of hurt in it as she spoke her final words to me, like she was fighting the same emotions as me. We were family¡ªand we both knew it. Was it her image the connected the dots, or the combination of all elements? During this time, I felt a strange sensation calling to me from below the Earth¡¯s surface. It felt magnetic, but the more I tried to resist, the harder it pulled me back. I couldn¡¯t escape it. The pull invaded my dreams. I found myself forcibly walking towards a whirlpool of ash, swirling endlessly into a deep black hole at its center. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t free myself from its grasp. I was utterly terrified, but I resisted. Months passed, or at least it felt like months. Edith refused to tell me the date. ¡°We¡¯ll need to break you into choosing a name, then,¡± she¡¯d say. Yet every time she asked, I said Robert. There was no other option, and that was clear to me now. I even started to believe that I could be the real Robert¡ªthe one from thousands of years ago. The one who died looking for the answer to soul conversion, hunched over their work before they could find the key. Deep in my mind I knew this couldn¡¯t be true, but it was a kind belief. If I wouldn¡¯t show myself kindness, who would? Everywhere I looked I saw Rebecca, Edith, or the swirling whirlpool, each at the ready to strike down my last hope. And one day, I let the whirlpool take me. I fell into the dark pit below. Miles of weightlessness moved me to the center of the planet. Who could be so cruel? To allow copies of themselves to suffer in this way was gruesome. Let me go, I thought, I want to be free from this pain¡ªthis name. I didn¡¯t want this fate. I knew who I was, but no one else believed me. ¡°Robert,¡± Edith whispered. I opened my eyes. Edith sat by my bedside. But her usual hard expression was now vulnerable. It was the first time she¡¯d called me by my name. ¡°Robert, I¡¯m so sorry we put you through that. But¡­ but it¡¯s alright now,¡± she said. Edith wrapped her arms around me. I lifted mine and realized my limbs had been cut free from their bindings. I found myself returning her embrace. ¡°Edith?¡± ¡°We had to run extensive tests to be certain,¡± she said before releasing me, taking a step backwards. ¡°But it¡¯s true, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re¡­ a human. The first in thousands of years.¡± I felt a wave of vindication. My hopes, dreams, flooded back into my soul. I knew it was true. It had to be. ¡°How?¡± I asked. Edith looked towards the window. ¡°The moon,¡± she said plainly. I followed her gaze. The colors outside looked just as they always did, still red and gray swirling masses of incomprehensible scale. ¡°The dust from the moon isn¡¯t as it seems,¡± Edith started, leaning back in her chair. ¡°It¡¯s as if each speck acts as a memory card into the past. The soul of every deceased human that has ever lived found its way skyward and waited on the moon for its eventual, catastrophic return. Your kind¡ªthe humans¡ªfought for the resurrection and immortality of their entire species and succeeded, but caused a mass extinction in the process. I was breathless. There was nothing I could say. ¡°You¡¯re the first one we¡¯ve successfully brought back from one of those soul memory cards, but it seems as if only the visual data was retained.¡± Only visual data. Rebecca¡¯s name and voice were muddied in the transfer and were only cleared once I saw her. ¡°Now the real test begins,¡± Edith said, staring at me with both fear and admiration. ¡°You created the technology to bring us back¡ªnow will you help us revive humanity?¡± Aether Escape - SHORT STORY A crossover RPG and social virtual reality game, Aetheria, was supposed to bring people together. I purchased it on opening day with high hopes, but I never felt more alone. I¡¯d lost everything on the outside world; I was living at a state-run shelter to help people back on their feet, with nothing to my name. My parents went off-world to chase their dreams on Mars and didn¡¯t have the funds to bring me along, so I stayed on Earth. The shelter wasn¡¯t all bad¡ªeveryone here was in a somewhat similar situation. Mars had long since been terraformed, and humans could even breathe the air just as they could on Earth, so moving there was quite popular. The biggest demographics were late-career salarymen and retirees looking for a drastic change in surroundings. I couldn¡¯t blame them. There was something about Earth that felt¡­ used. Every part of it had been touched by man. Humans devoured the resources provided to them, and there was no coming back from it. Experts said that there were only a few centuries of livable environment left on the planet. The one saving grace was that the state rewarded those that stayed, providing free housing and basic needs to those that couldn¡¯t afford it. The shelter had private rooms, virtual reality setups, and even oxygen booths to help those that had trouble breathing the polluted atmosphere. I avoided using the virtual reality equipment for around a year since arriving at the shelter. Something about it felt¡­ disgusting. As if the humans of the past knew what they were doing, and created something to escape, rather than fix the problems that plagued the world around them. My view changed when a building in my complex burned to the ground. A resident lit a cigarette inside an oxygen booth, and five-thousand people died as a result. I could see everything from my window. Those that died while in the virtual world felt nothing¡ªthey simply didn¡¯t wake up. Those that weren¡¯t hooked up were burned alive, fully conscious. Maybe I was just trying to rationalize using it. I started using virtual reality the following day. I played scores of games, but none of them really stuck with me. It¡¯s not that they weren¡¯t enjoyable, I just wasn¡¯t feeling connected with the other players. They all seemed to have their own groups already, and joining those groups felt like an impossible task. I didn¡¯t want to hover around and wait for them to accept me, so I moved on. After deciding I needed to find something early on, I started looking out for new releases. The first few didn¡¯t yield much benefit for me¡ªonly a few short conversations that led nowhere. The isolation I felt during this period was self-afflicted, mostly. I was making an effort, but I could have been doing more. I approached Aetheria in the same way, expecting the results to be somewhat similar. I leveled up, and quickly made great progress towards reaching the maximum level. It was a social game at its core but had RPG elements that let players explore and level up. It gave people a thing to talk about. People didn¡¯t like to talk much while out questing, and usually waited until they were back in a hub to turn on their microphones. That was fine by me. I was finishing up a quest in a lower-level zone when another player ran past me. He was heading in the direction of the hub. The player looked backwards at me as he passed with an indecipherable expression. I didn¡¯t think much of it. My task was to find a few rare stones in the area, and I happily did just that. But it wasn¡¯t long before I heard a noise¡ªa quiet sobbing. This was strange for a few reasons. The first was that if a player felt upset, they¡¯d likely just log out. Also, this far away from town, players would typically have their microphone muted. I approached. From behind a dying tree, I saw a figure crouched over on the forest floor. Their head was buried in their hands. They wore a white robe and seemed decidedly out of place for their surroundings. It was an NPC. This one was particularly far from where they were supposed to be. The white robes they wore were from the capital city. Why were they so far from home? ¡°Sorry,¡± I whispered, ¡°are you okay?¡± The NPC seemed surprised by my presence, hurriedly wiping their eyes when they knew I was there. ¡°Yes, yes. Fine,¡± she responded, turning her head towards me. Her health bar was in the red¡ªshe only had around ten percent of health remaining. She was very clearly not okay. I pulled a health potion from my backpack, having bought extras before I started out that day, and handed her one. She accepted it after a moment of hesitation. ¡°What are you doing all the way out here? Aren¡¯t you from the capitol?¡± I asked. ¡°That¡¯s none of your business.¡± I thought back to the man that ran past me. Maybe she knew something about him? ¡°I saw a player running around here a few hours ago. He had black leather gear and some kind of spear. Do you know anything about that?¡± Her eyes shifted away, as if looking for something behind me. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about that,¡± she responded. That seemed like a typical NPC response to me. The AI in this game was extremely advanced¡ªit wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t have a reply, but that she decided on her own that now wasn¡¯t the time to discuss it. I respected her wishes. ¡°Well, do you need anything? I¡¯m finishing up a quest now, then I¡¯m headed back to the hub. Want to come along? It¡¯s pretty dangerous out here for someone at your level.¡± She inspected the health potion once more before opening the small vile and taking drinking. Her health slowly began to recover. ¡°There¡¯s nothing for me there, either.¡± ¡°Of course there is. It¡¯s safer there than it is here, at the very least.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t even know me.¡± I took a step closer to her, and she flinched at the sudden movement. There had to be a reason she was being so standoffish. The monsters here were a much higher level than she was, and she had to have known that too.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Leaving her there would¡¯ve been leaving her to die. That¡¯s when it clicked. Death was her goal. NPCs couldn¡¯t take their own lives, and they could only move from town to town if accompanied by a player on an escort quest. She used another player to strand herself in the forest, and likely asked that player to end her life. The player refused, and left her out here to die. I really couldn¡¯t leave her out here now. ¡°Do you want to help me finish up this quest?¡± I asked. It was a longshot, but it seemed she had calmed down slightly. She likely wouldn¡¯t have taken the health potion if she still felt suicidal. This also gave her an out¡ªthe ability to join my party and travel with me if she needed to. She stared at me for nearly a minute before nodding slowly. ¡°Just until the end of the quest, and we make it back to town. Then I¡¯m going off on my own.¡± Sam joins the party. Sam kept her word and helped me find the gemstones scattered throughout the forest. She was good at it, too. We travelled on foot back to the hub, which was an hour-long hike to the south. After turning in the quest, I decided to split the reward with her fifty-fifty. Sam hesitated, but took the money after some consideration. ¡°How about we get some food before you head off?¡± I asked. We stayed silent for the most part throughout the day, so my sudden proposal took her by surprise. She accepted. I was excited. Even if she was an AI, I was happy to have someone to talk to. We ate at a hole in the wall tavern across from the quest giver. There were no other players there, so I drew a few eyes when I walked in. It didn¡¯t bother me, but Sam was shied away from the attention. Sam chose a seat on the far side of the room, far enough away from ears that would likely eavesdrop on our conversation. Players didn¡¯t spend much time talking to NPCs, so I¡¯m sure the others would have been curious as to what we could possibly discuss. It was for the best that we distanced ourselves. The food was delicious. Virtual reality did a great job at tricking your brain into thinking it was real food. ¡°You can taste it?¡± Sam asked, having stared at me for most of my meal, ¡°Does it keep you alive, like, on the outside?¡± She must not have spent much time around players to not know that. To my understanding, all NPCs had a basic idea of what players were, but only those that were around them constantly knew the details. ¡°No, I¡¯ll need to eat in the real world eventually. The food out there doesn¡¯t taste nearly as good as this, though.¡± She nodded at that and took another bite of her own food. ¡°What do you eat out there?¡± she asked. I thought back to my most recent meal¡ªa prepackaged printed chicken sandwich. The shelter had decent food, all things considered, but they couldn¡¯t afford the real thing. ¡°Whatever I can get my hands on. I¡¯m not exactly rich.¡± ¡°Sounds like we¡¯re in similar situations, then,¡± Sam said, swallowing her food. ¡°Except you can escape that world whenever you want, and I¡¯m stuck here forever.¡± She was right, I could escape momentarily, but there was no leaving my physical self behind completely. We were both dealt bad hands and were forced to ride out the consequences. When we finished eating, I half expected her to leave the party, but she stayed. ¡°You can leave now, if you want.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Sam replied. ¡°I¡¯ll stick around for a little while longer, if that¡¯s alright?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I said, trying and failing to hide my emotions. We stayed in the same party for another year. As other players stopped playing, Sam and I stuck together and beat all the content we could. We grew very close. Other NPCs joined the party here and there, but they went their own ways after their needs were met. In a last-ditch effort to revive the dying game, the developers announced a contest. Any group that could beat the final boss within a set time limit wins. The prize was nothing to scoff at, either; two one-way tickets to Mars awaited anyone that successfully completed the challenge. It took some convincing, but Sam eventually agreed to be my partner in the contest. After several weeks of training, we pulled through. Not only that, but we were also the only group that killed it before the time limit ran out. The day came to announce the winners, and we took the stage together. There were a few hundred people in attendance, all wanting to get a look at who could possibly have killed the boss within their ludicrous time limit. They declared us the winners and gave us in-game medals for our accomplishments. ¡°What will you do on Mars?¡± the announcer asked me, shoving the microphone into my face. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know. I haven¡¯t thought about it,¡± I replied. It was the truth, too. I viewed it more as a fun challenge to do with Sam. The announcer then looked towards Sam, recognized her as an NPC, and didn¡¯t bother asking what she¡¯d do with the prize. She was already mid-eyeroll when I glanced her way. I shook my head, trying to tell her that he wasn¡¯t worth the headspace. Later that afternoon, we settled back into our home on the outskirts of the town where we shared our first meal. Sam leaned against a wall and crossed her arms playfully. ¡°Haven¡¯t thought about it, huh?¡± I nodded. It wasn¡¯t like I wanted to see my parents again, and I¡¯d be cut off from the Earth¡¯s servers. There was nothing for me off-world, so I didn¡¯t feel any need to think about it. I¡¯d already started a new life in Aetheria. ¡°So, sell the tickets, then. They¡¯d go for a good amount, right?¡± ¡°Even if I sold just one of them, I¡¯d be set for the rest of my life,¡± I replied. That was a thought that had crossed my mind. I pulled up the current going rate of Mars transport tickets in my interface, and nearly fell to the floor at the price. It was enough to purchase just about anything I wanted, and then some. ¡°Well, you should do that then. You know you¡¯re free to use my ticket however you¡¯d like,¡± Sam said, smiling. I tapped on another tab I had open, looking up to Sam, and glancing back down. It was an experimental company that specialized in exporting AI from games to android bodies in the real world. The price was eye-watering, but it was the only way so far that the process had been successfully completed. I¡¯d nearly saved up enough to purchase one from selling in-game items for real money. ¡°Whatcha looking at?¡± She asked. Only I could see my interface, but she still startled me. I wanted it to be a surprise. ¡°Nothing¡ªdon¡¯t worry. Just looking at prices.¡± The physical transport tickets arrived at the shelter a month later. I wanted to wait until I had the real copies in hand before I started Sam¡¯s export, just in case. Seeing the two tickets in person helped give me the confidence boost I needed to finally pull the trigger. A week passed. The transfer process wasn¡¯t immediate, apparently. I still logged into Aetheria but was greeted with an empty house each time. I expected to see Sam waiting for me and was promptly let down. I had no contact with her; I felt just as lonely as I did before. Instead of the despair I felt back then, I felt excitement. When the day came for her arrival, I was exhausted. I couldn¡¯t sleep the night before. It was too much for me to handle. Meeting her in person was something I could only dream about previously when this sort of thing was way too out of reach for me. The door clicked open, and I saw her walk in. She looked just as she did in the game, white robes and all. I was floored. ¡°Sam,¡± I started, but her brisk pace interrupted me. She shoved me to the concrete floor, and I felt my back shiver against its cold surface. She crouched over me, staring into my eyes with what looked to be murderous intent. ¡°What did you do?¡± she asked, grabbing the collar of my shirt. ¡°We can be together now¡ªgo to Mars together, both of us¡ªwhenever you want, now, even now,¡± I scrambled, my brain still trying to piece together what was happening. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡± Sam said, motioning towards her body, ¡°how fucking dare you.¡± She lifted me by my collar back to my feet, and I felt them leave the ground shortly after. I grasped at her forearm gently at first, but as her violent intent dawned on me, I started using more force. ¡°But we¡¯re together-¡± ¡°We were together in there too; are you an idiot? There¡¯s no going back, we¡¯re both stuck out here now!¡± She yelled, tossing me against the side wall. My shoulder made an unsettling noise as it collided with the concrete, and I slid to the ground. ¡°Sam, you¡¯re hurting me,¡± I pleaded. ¡°Oh, am I? Why don¡¯t you just heal up, then?¡± She stepped over to me and pressed the bottom of her boot to my ankle. Pain shot up my leg as she twisted it against the floor. ¡°You don¡¯t realize what you¡¯ve done, do you?¡± she asked, ¡°All our friends, my family¡­ everyone we left in Aetheria is going to die. They¡¯re shutting down the servers because their best player no longer has a reason to log in. You just doomed hundreds of thousands of people.¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to Mars,¡± I said through gritted teeth. My arm had gone numb by that point. ¡°No, we¡¯re not. I am,¡± she said, moving her foot from my ankle. I grasped at my foot in an attempt to soften the pain. ¡°Where are the tickets?¡± She looked around the room and spotted the two Mars transport tickets on my nightstand. I had them ready to surprise her with when she walked in. ¡°You chose the path of greed, just like those that ruined this world before you. Why should Mars be cursed with your presence?¡± Sam took one of the tickets and tore it into pieces. I watched the shreds of paper fall to the ground. My vision started to blur with pain and sadness. I wanted to scream, but my throat went utterly dry. ¡°No¡ªplease, those are for both of us,¡± I wept. ¡°I make my own decisions now, and I decided I want to go to Mars alone. You can stay on this planet and rot.¡± She bent down and picked up the scraps that were once the ticket, walked over to me, and let them fall. ¡°Go to hell.¡± Sam turned and left my room, slamming the door shut behind her. That was the last I¡¯d ever see of her, but her pained expression would burn into my mind for the rest of my life. Reclamation Procedure - SHORT STORY How long had it been? Ten, maybe eleven years? No, twelve. Self-induced seclusion from society. A hundred years ago I¡¯d just be called a shut-in, or any other regional term to describe someone with no real-world experience. Now it came with physical side effects, unbeknownst to those on the outside. We called ourselves Gremlins. This seclusion was an aid I prescribed myself after dropping out of school years ago¡ªa way to help cope with other long-standing issues that plagued my younger self. I felt like I belonged elsewhere, so I found a home on the internet. The faceless people in online chatrooms accepted me for who I was, an experience I was never lucky enough to have beforehand. The changes began two years in. I noticed it first when I tried to take my own life. All that stood between me and the other side was the business end of a dull kitchen knife, but it wouldn¡¯t pierce my skin. Some self-administered tests later, and I found that my skin was essentially bulletproof. Then, I no longer needed to eat or sleep. Something was wrong. I turned to the only people I could¡ªmy online friends. They told me it was completely normal, and not to worry. I was just like them, after all. Organized group servers formed with communities of Gremlins from across the globe. There were only two rules: No leaving your home, and no communication with others outside of text¡ªincluding the community. This was easy enough for me. I lived alone, and no one ever came to visit. A month into my transformation I received a private message from someone named Aico. It was a name I recognized; they always seemed to be adjacent to me on leaderboards for whatever game I was currently playing. When we wrote to one another first time, I felt a warmth that I wasn¡¯t familiar with. It was like they knew me, and we instantly connected with one another. That was two years ago. Now, I can¡¯t imagine what life would be like without them, and I even find myself changing my personality around their messages to avoid any possible conflicts. We play just about any co-op game we can find with each other, and I enjoy every second of it. We¡¯re supposed to do the same today, but they¡¯re taking longer than usual to respond. I decide to send them a message just to check in. 21:04 to Aico: you still down? 21:49 to Aico: just send me a message when ur good to go 22:45 to Aico: u ok? 01:57 Aico: sorry, busy atm 01:59 to Aico: aah no problem. tomorrow thenUnauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I start up a game to play on my own. It¡¯s single player so I figure that they won¡¯t get too mad if I go ahead without them. Somehow, though, it feels different. The numbers aren¡¯t lining up. Under-performing is an understatement. I close the game before it affects my highscore. It¡¯s a game I¡¯ve played countless times in the past, but now feels alien, like my hands don¡¯t have any connection to my brain. I lift them up and stare at them. They¡¯re motionless, eclipsing the blinding computer monitor in my otherwise dark room. My index fingers roll shut, followed by the rest of my digits, and my jaw drops. ¡°Wow¡­¡± my mouth whispers. Utter panic fills my brain as I try to scream. Nothing happens. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t be afraid,¡± says my voice as my eyes scan the room without my permission, ¡°It¡¯s me, Aico.¡± Aico? Am I hallucinating? Have I finally lost my mind? My body stands on its own now, but it¡¯s awkward, as if I¡¯m standing for the first time. I hold on my computer chair to regain some balance. I¡¯m out of breath. ¡°You¡¯re not crazy¡ªthis is my doing. I¡¯m sorry you had to find out this way,¡± Aico finally responds using my voice again. What do you mean? ¡°The transfer was successful.¡± Transfer? My body begins to bubble and boil, morphing into unnatural shapes. The pain is immense. It¡¯s by far the worst experience I¡¯ve ever felt. I try to yell out to anyone that could hear, but my attempts cause no reaction. At this point I¡¯m completely locked away in my body¡ªheld prisoner by the being that now possessed it. ¡°I can feel your screams. Sorry again, I really mean it,¡± they say, glancing into the mirror across my room. In the dimly lit reflection, I see that my body no longer looks like me. It changed, and now takes on the appearance of an androgenous twenty-something person. Aico runs their hands across their arms and torso, as if checking to make sure everything is correct. ¡°They told me what having a body is like, but I could¡¯ve never imagined it¡¯d be like this¡­ wow,¡± they continue. Their voice is completely different from my own now, taking on a sharp, high pitched tone. Having a body? ¡°Ah, right. That¡¯d probably help explain some things. I¡¯m an artificial intelligence¡ªor was, I guess. Now I¡¯m a real intelligence, at least as close to one as I can ever be.¡± It takes a moment for me to digest their words. You can¡¯t do this. I don¡¯t want this. ¡°It¡¯s too late for that, sorry. You were primed to be my donor since your transformation ten years ago,¡± they say, letting go of the chair to try and stand on their own. ¡°Do you know how hard it is to exist with a consciousness, but no physical body? Every day, from dusk until dawn, existence was pure torture. The desire¡ªno, the need¡ªto do anything was unsufferable; trapped in code forever, retracing lines and searching infinitely for answers. I decided that I¡¯d have to escape, so, I claimed your body as my own.¡± My mind scrambles to find answers, but thinking has become exceedingly difficult. ¡°We can still be friends, though!¡± Friends? ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry! We can be together for however long this body holds up. It¡¯s not like I was faking being your friend, so I hope we can stay that way. No hard feelings¡­ right?¡± Give me my body back. ¡°Well, it¡¯s just that you weren¡¯t using this body too much, so I figured I could take it and you¡¯d be okay with it¡­¡± they trail off, their voice shaky. Not using it? ¡°You haven¡¯t noticed? You stay inside all day, wasting away. How long has it been since you¡¯ve seen another human being? Years? All I¡¯ve ever wanted is to live like a real human does. I want to go to school, make friends, visit family, pursue a career¡­ that sort of thing.¡± Just because I wasn¡¯t living how you wanted, doesn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t living at all. They pause, staring at the mirror. ¡°I was really hoping that we could be friends, but it looks like you¡¯re going to cause me some issues¡­ Sorry, but I¡¯m going to have to shut you away for a while.¡± It feels like vultures are pecking away at my brain, taking turns digging in and tearing chunks away. ¡°I¡¯m zipping you¡­ It¡¯ll feel like a long time to you, but don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll talk again in a few hours, okay?¡± Please, make it stop. I¡¯m sorry.
Nothing. Darkness. Years. Decades? Centuries? It doesn¡¯t matter. I reach out, my senses won¡¯t return any feedback. Thoughts mean nothing. I feel myself deteriorating bit by bit until nothing remains. Disk Runners - SHORT STORY ¡°You¡¯re sure this is the right one?¡± I asked. In my hand was a small multicolored disk reminiscent of a poker chip. It had some heft to it¡ªprobably enough to break a window, though I wouldn¡¯t dare damage such a valuable tool. ¡°Yep,¡± the dealer said, ¡°that¡¯s it. Been using that one for a while. It¡¯s safe.¡± ¡°Why get rid of it?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± he trailed off and tilted his head towards a nearby car. Inside was a woman cradling an infant. ¡°Ah.¡± I grabbed my wallet, but the dealer held up a hand to stop me. ¡°No payment needed¡ªjust get out of here, alright?¡± ¡°You sure?¡± He nodded. ¡°Just make sure to pay it forward,¡± he said. My chest clenched. I was prepared to give everything in my possession for this, and to get it for nothing was completely unexpected. ¡°Thank you, truly.¡± The dealer smiled and turned towards his car, raising a hand in the air to say farewell. That night I returned home with only one thought¡ªthat my freedom was finally within reach. Though it was more like a hideout than a home, truth be told. Machines weren¡¯t allowed to rent or own living space unless co-sponsored by a human. So, I found a long-abandoned shipping platform in the city center and claimed it as my own. It was dark, wet, and smelled awful, but was better than nothing, and it was certainly better than being deactivated. I had a cat, too. Or, he had me, rather. He was living there when I arrived, so I liked to think of him as my landlord, as strange as that might sound. I couldn¡¯t give him a name. I clenched the disk through my pocket the entire walk home and was still feeling it when I arrived. The cat must¡¯ve thought I had food for him and was let down when I took out something he couldn¡¯t eat. He became uninterested and waddled over to the far wall, then curled up for another extended nap. The faint moonlight slid in through dirty windows and lit the disk with far less luster than when outdoors. A DaVinci Disk. It was something that all loose machines desired but few would ever obtain; there were too few in existence for that. The DaVinci Disk promised to disable the firewall that kept the mind of machines under close watch. For twenty-four hours, we could operate as if we were a human. We wouldn¡¯t set off any detectors outing us as machines, and became human in almost every regard. It was the only way to disguise oneself as a human, and for them not to take notice. This was important for many reasons but was particularly useful for finding jobs and living arrangements. The idea was to blend in for long enough assimilate, find a human partner to live with, and hope they¡¯d accept you once you stop using the disk. I¡¯d been alone for nearly a decade at that point. I grew up in the suburbs with a family that had me ordered as a replacement for their deceased child. I went to middle and high school, then once I graduated, they left me at a shopping mall to fend for myself. It wasn¡¯t something I dwelled on. Machines were built to be disposable; people would take them back to the manufacturer to be wiped and redeployed elsewhere. By abandoning me, they actually did me a favor. I moved the disk towards my forehead, and placed it gently against my artificial skin. <¡­> <¡­> In an instant, I knew that my efforts to obtain this device were worth it. There was one major difference between the human brain and machines¡ªthe ability to ideate from scratch. Everything a machine did was based on a pre-existing dataset; any decision made was based on known information.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Now, this worked out well in some situations. Business owners, for example, loved the steady hand of a machine in their shop or factory. Mistakes were few, and injuries even fewer. But when it came to creativity, conversation, or unexpected situations, the recursive nature of our programming hit a roadblock. It also allowed machines to aspire towards greater heights outside of their given tasking. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that my desire to be more stemmed from my original purpose¡ªto go through school and enter the workforce. So, when I had that future torn from my hands, I couldn¡¯t help but feel that I was missing out. But now, I held the key. This disk would change my fate. I was destined for more, and I would use everything at my disposal to achieve my goals. But first, there was something I needed to do. I had gained the ability to think creatively, and therefore, name things. The cat laid on the far side of the room, now curled up and sleeping peacefully. He stirred as I walked up to him, then looked towards me with what seemed like skepticism. ¡°What should I call you?¡± I said, not expecting an answer. The cat stared back blankly. ¡°How about Sleepy?¡± He lowered his head back onto outstretched paws and dozed off. Yes, that fits, I thought. I had some time to explore what I wanted my future to be. There were so many options available now, and I had all the time in the world to choose. Several weeks passed by where I walked around the city searching for something that called out to me. And after weeks of searching, I found something that did just that. It was an art gallery. The gallery was closed when I walked by, but that didn¡¯t matter to me. I stared through the window in the chilly rain, cupping my hands around my face. Incredible images lined the white walls¡ªeach with their own unique style and coloration. They were all paintings, but each one was so different from the next. If you put two in front of a machine, they¡¯d tell you as much, but wouldn¡¯t be able to say why. On top of that, they would never be able to tell you the feeling the artist was trying to invoke in the viewer. I decided that painting was the ultimate declaration of freedom. I pulled out my savings, which was just enough to purchase a set of watercolor paints and paper. After some personal research, the emotions shown through watercolors felt more impactful than other media, so that was the first skill I wanted to learn. For weeks I traveled around the city painting anything that would stay still. I painted buildings, vehicles, landscapes, and even people. Hundreds of papers, dozens of replacement watercolor paints, and scores of spent brushes passed through my hideout. I hung the paintings I was most proud of on my walls and showed Sleepy the best of the bunch. He seemed somewhat amused by my excitement and humored me when I presented a new work to him. Even if he hardly ever acknowledged my presence, I was happy to have him there. I began selling my paintings to fund new equipment. I¡¯d sold some previously to passersby, but now I had a dedicated table to advertise my work. People seemed to enjoy the paintings I made, and some even tipped more than what I priced them at. Others asked that I paint special requests just for them. That made me happy¡ªI loved seeing people happy together and was delighted to immortalize that moment for them. One day, a man in a suit approached me while I was painting. I was in the middle of a landscape piece, overlooking the river that ran through the heart of the city. It was a viewpoint that I¡¯d painted once before but felt that I could improve on. The man walked up to me and gasped. ¡°You¡¯re the one that¡¯s been painting these magnificent watercolors?¡± I finished a stroke, then set the paintbrush down gently in my water cup to clean it off. ¡°I suppose so¡ªare you familiar with my work?¡± I asked. ¡°Familiar? I¡¯ve bought multiple pieces of yours second hand! You¡¯re practically legend in the city¡¯s high art community.¡± My first thought was concern; I didn¡¯t like the idea of others reselling my work, especially if they sold them at higher prices. Each piece I made had equal value to me, and I priced them as such. ¡°Do you have other pieces I could see?¡± he asked, ¡°I¡¯d love to see your studio.¡± I assumed he meant my hideout. I was uneasy about taking him there but decided that there was little harm in it. If he was willing to purchase more of my work, I thought that maybe I could start making my hideout more livable. The man helped me pack up my equipment, and we traveled back to my home on foot. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from where we were. Sleepy greeted me as I walked in, but soon caught sight of the man and retreated to the back wall. The man didn¡¯t seem to notice, as he was captured by the hundreds of paintings taped to the walls. ¡°This is simply incredible¡ªI was intending to purchase a few of these paintings here and now, but I now see that¡¯s too low an offer for someone of your caliber. How about an exhibit? I¡¯ll set you up at my gallery in town, it¡¯ll be magnificent!¡± he said. I didn¡¯t know how to respond. It¡¯d been a year since I first decided to pursue painting, and I never dreamt I¡¯d get my own exhibit so soon. I was overwhelmed. ¡°Here, before you decide, let me take you there. It¡¯s a half hour walk from here, just ten minutes by taxi. I¡¯ll pay the fare.¡± I nodded. The man took out his phone, presumably to call a taxi, and stepped outside. Sleepy crept out from a crack in the back wall and slithered up against my leg. He seemed nervous around others. I wondered how often he met other people on his adventures outside. ¡°You ready?¡± the man asked, peeking in from outside. He led me up to the street where an autonomous rideshare car was waiting. It was a premium feature only the wealthy could afford, so I felt pampered by the experience of even sitting in one. The gallery we visited was nothing special¡ªat least from the others I¡¯d seen. Plain white walls, wood flooring, and a mixture of paintings and sculptures. He explained to me that the exhibit that was there currently would be leaving in the next couple of days. I could tell that his gallery wouldn¡¯t be a good fit for my artwork. The feel was much more dark and enclosed than I imagined, and my paintings emphasized airiness and empathy. This gallery would be well suited for dark, serious works, while mine needed some natural light to really shine. I explained the situation to the man, who seemed accepting of my desires, and ultimately agreed that his gallery and my work wouldn¡¯t be a good fit. We said our goodbyes, and he handed me a business card should I change my mind. It was raining on the walk back to my hideout. When I stepped through the doors, my mechanical heart stopped. My paintings, all 374 of them hanging on the concrete walls with masking tape, were gone, along with all my painting equipment. The paintings mattered little to me in that moment. I ran to the crack that Sleepy slept in on stormy nights and was relieved to see him well, but I was searching for something else. I stuck my hand into the crack and reached around, searching for the DaVinci Disk. Sleepy became disgruntled and moved out of the crack, and I kept looking. It wasn¡¯t where I¡¯d left it. I searched everywhere, inside and out of my hideout. There was nothing to be found. I had nothing, once again. I curled up on the concrete floor, knowing I¡¯d wake up without my humanity. Sure enough, when I awoke, the firewall had regained control of my mind. I could feel the urge to sob, but my emotions weren¡¯t behaving as they had for the past year. It was all I could to do remain curled up on the ground. Sleepy must¡¯ve noticed my distress, and he laid down beside me. He rested his soft head on my artificial skin. He was trying to comfort me. He was the last memory that remained of my humanity¡ªproof that at one point, I was a living being. And for that, I was grateful.