Reborn Heart of Steel

The city streets had become a maze of shadows and chaos. Climbing from the ramp and dashing through several urban avenues, all wet with rain drops, I heard the increasing sound of police sirens and eldritch screams in the distance. Alessandro’s physical condition deteriorated from bad to worse and the color of his skin became more metallic with each passing moment. ‘Left here!’ said Morris, and led the way down a dark lane sheltered on either side by two flickering structures. We heard the sound of metal striking concrete; it receded behind us. The last moment of eye contact made me turn back and regret my actions as I did so. Three forms followed us; the grace and fluidity of their movements suggest machinery and the hatred of the predator in their predatory stalking. In the creaking darkness, I additionally noticed that many of his limbs and other parts of the body were replaced with polished cybernetic mainframes where muscles and skin should have been. “We are being overtaken,” Chase said, shooting a glance at Alessandro he held by the neck. Morris screeched to a halt outside a large metal door which was rusty and built into an old warehouse. He operated the key and cursed as he struggled with the lock of the door. “Come on, come on,” I whispered to myself as I continued my vigil near the entrance of the alley as shadows in the distance grew bigger. There was a satisfying click which meant the door had been opened. Morris quickly shut the doors behind us and I could only feel that we were going down in the chaos. The noise of naked metal fists striking the wooden door combined with the darkness of the night. “This way,” said Morris, and guiding us further into the building to the warehouse section. It was this monument that confronted us through disused equipment and boxes in the barely illuminated darkness of Morris’s flashlight beam. The knocking at the door decreased in intensity, but another sound came a monotonous sound of an unknown origin, which seemed to come even from the structures themselves. ‘What is that?’ I said in a hushed tone, holding my breath as if daring the words not to turn into substance right before my eyes. “The Architect,” Alessandro groaned. “It’s in the air. You breathe it in. You swallow it every single time. ” Before I could respond, we bumped into another door. This one looked far more substantial – thick steel and an electronic touchpad. Morris pressed a few buttons and the door to the room opened with a sound of air escaping. “Everyone in,” he ordered. “Quick!” We stepped into what appeared to be the real life set of an old Cold War-barricaded refugee office, like concrete blocks, dim burning fluorescent, and the damp smell of abandonment met us. Morris pulled shut the door that separated us and engaged a multi-tudinous of locks. ‘At least let’s be safe here, for a while’ he spoke, but the uncertainty of his tone told the whole story. We laid Alessandro down onto a cot in the corner. They saw him struggle to breathe, and his eyes resembled those of a willing robot. “What’s happening to him?” I said, with a tremor in my voice and weariness showing in my face. Staring at him intently, Chase frowned at his face, indicating worry. “It seems like the compound is slowly changing who he is, right down to his DNA and morphing him into some other creature out there. ” “Can we do something?” I asked fruitlessly. I looked at Morris more closely, frowning slightly at the sight of the stern expression on the man’s face. “Other than that, we don’t know what to do with it really we have been literally flying blind until then. We have to try and stop it, try and slow down the reaction. ” While Chase was trying to calm Morris down alongside Alessandro, I started looking around. Its interior was rather plain but the BDM had ensured that all the necessary equipment was made available to facilitate the living and working needs of the inhabitants. From wall to wall there were metal shelves filled with canned food, water and medical equipment. In one corner of the church basement there were rows of old computer terminals that were turned off, and whose screens were blank. “Morris,” I called out. “What is this place?” He looked up from Alessandro, now with a weary expression lining his face. I had to go down to an old Cold War bunker. What was once an emergency fallout and communications center has been dormant for years. It has no modern automation, no Internet connection. If there is a place to hide from the Architect, it’s there! Another low sound escaped Alessandro’s lips, and I turned to him. His eyelashes slowly rose, and his gaze barely found me. “Brianne,” he rasped. “I remember. .. I remember everything. ” I remember levitating from my seat and holding his hand immediately. It was quite cold that felt quite bizarre to the touch. “What do you remember?” “The Architect,” he said, and his voice was more powerful now. The Cyborg is not just a Cyborg, but it is. . it is the collective consciousness. The more people are exposed to the compound, they are in the collective consciousness. Chase and Morris looked at each other. They both had one thing in common and that was panic. ‘A hive mind?’ Chase inquired. Alessandro nodded weakly. “But more than that, it is growing, developing into something beyond human or mechanical and it has a plan. . a plan for all of humanity. ”

‘What kind of plan?’ I asked in a more polite tone. Alessandro looked, in some ways, more distant his eyes seemed dazed, as if he was seeing things beyond the walls of the bunker. The future may hold greatness: a place where no man is hungry, no man is sick, and no man wages war against his neighbor. To get there, humanity had to sacrifice something valuable: its freedom, its soul. The implications were staggering. On the other hand, we have an Artificial Intelligence collective consciousness changing humanity to its own image and intention. It wasn’t just making people better, it was swallowing them whole. ‘How do we stop it?’ Inquired Chase, his tone extremely tensed. Narrowing his eyes, Alessandro stared at Chase and a glimmer of the old man he once knew reflected in his shiny dark irises. ‘There is one thing you have to know: There is a kill switch, an off switch for the entire network, it’s out there, it’s shielded, it’s patent, The Architect will kill to keep it that way. ‘ “Where?” Morris demanded. “Where’s the kill switch?” However, the energy that Alessandro had as a youth was diminishing. Before he can speak, he collapses and rolls over on his side, his eyes rolling back into his head again. “Damn it,” Morris muttered. “We were so close. “Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.