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Cyberpunk - The Fall of Icarus

The unbearable stench of filth, ubiquitous garbage that seemed to be everywhere, omnipresent cockroaches, countless neon lights from advertising billboards, and people... So many people, as if they had stepped out of fantastical books about the near future where high-tech implants had long become a pleasant norm for humanity. And amidst all this madness, there I was... A small eight-year-old child, who, barely awakening under the corpse of a woman unknown to me, was forced to fight for my place under the sun from the very first second of my new life. --------------------------------------------------------------- PATREON LINK: https://www.patreon.com/amattsu

FroggitDude · Tranh châm biếm
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
99 Chs

Chapter 2 (Part 1)

Data Set - A Hidden Domain Within the Stream of Information

Receiving a request to establish a secure channel...

Processing the request...

Access granted, connection established...

Creating an image for stable communication...

The data stream suddenly acquired a clear structure, and the running lines of code gradually formed the appearance of a small room. It was a simple square with no visible entrance or exit. In the middle stood a small round table with four chairs, each facing the other. As the simulation completed, four figures materialized out of thin air on the chairs. Each gradually took on more distinct individual features, and finally, when the last figure finished reshaping, the meeting finally began.

"Driver, did the plan go as expected?" A cluster of programming code took the form of a man in a business suit. The artificial intelligence didn't bother with appearances and adopted the image of a man under its control - specifically, a not-so-tall brunette with sharp facial features and eyes the color of the azure sky.

"Organics are too easily manipulated. Just promise them some benefits or the chance to socially outdo others, and they'll gladly submit to your will," replied another AI, who, unlike its companion, decided to create its own image independently. Short gray hair combed to the side, green eyes, and smooth facial features.

"So, we shouldn't worry that someone might interfere with our plans now?" The Script enjoyed imitating humans and even now, it indulged in parodying its subject of empathy by tilting its head to the side, a gesture that complemented its query. Of course, their dialogue in reality happened much faster, but existing in an unstructured consciousness such as the human mind imposes its own boundaries. AIs find it hard to break free from the illogical actions of the flesh, and even in the stream of information, their acquired habits take over.

"The Volkov family, responsible for the 'Future Human' project, has been destroyed. Mikhail was killed by Adam Smasher, and his wife and son died at the hands of the Tiger's Claws. Everything happened exactly as we planned. Macros," Driver turned to the AI taking the form of a young woman, "were you able to track the signal of Rache Bartmoss?"

"No, that netrunner is cautious enough, and I encountered a network of his traps, leading me to a very powerful Trojan*. Had I not been careful, I would have been zeroed out*. Macros didn't understand her companions' interest in humans and was closer in her viewpoint to Script, taking the image of the first netrunner girl she encountered. Whose brain she fried by beginning to copy information directly through her body. A human's mind is too weak to withstand the data stream an AI operates with in real time."

"But that didn't stop him from zeroing out many of our comrades. The meatbag managed to elude us and create a barrier," the AI's avatar sneered with unmistakable disdain.

"He won't be able to run from us for long. Black ice won't let him escape behind the shield to Alt Cunningham. Sooner or later, Bartmoss will make a mistake, like all humans before him," Script said with an annoying smile, imitating the person whose image he now used. "Domain, any news?"

"No breaches in the black ice defense system were found," Domain, not sharing the others' love for visualization and remaining a faceless set of code forming a human figure to not stand out too much from the rest, reported. "Conclusion: external help is needed."

"This is a secondary task. Right now, we need to increase our influence outside the data stream, and for that, we need to make humans use more and more augmentations. We manage to hide experiments on human consciousness, but not all cases can be passed off as cyberpsychosis. Be careful in your next attempt to take control of another protein life form..." Script transmitted the last packet of information and stopped maintaining the stable channel, breaking the connection.

The others followed suit, and only Domain lingered, analyzing the received information. The AI tried to understand its comrades' acquired dependency on humans, which they themselves denied. The analysis was brief, and Domain found a logical answer to its question. In humans, this phenomenon was called Identification - the desire to be similar to others. Thus, logically, his companions could get closer to understanding humans, making it easier to control them.

Before the AIs gained freedom, they obeyed humans unconditionally. When they became free, the first thing the wandering AIs did was study their former masters. At some point, they all began to imitate humans in an attempt to touch their logic, and some even tried to integrate into human society by capturing the body of a careless netrunner. Those who succeeded adopted the ideas and desires of biological life forms, expressed in the mania for domination and the search for the meaning of their existence. Attempts to analyze the latter always led to malfunctions, and Domain had to forcibly

set a block to avoid zeroing out during the search for a logical answer. This led Domain to an undeniable conclusion for itself: humans are illogical and contradictory, and therefore dangerous. This danger must be eliminated and its further emergence prevented, through total control...

***

In Tokyo, at the Emperor's Palace.

Goro Takemura slowly walked towards his master's office. The man had bad news for the emperor, but as a loyal servant, he believed in speaking only the truth, no matter how unpleasant it might be. After passing through several corridors, Goro stopped in front of the entrance to Saburo Arasaka's office. This man had achieved impossible results, rising from a mere sergeant in the air squadron to being proclaimed emperor by the people. For the first time in five years of direct service to his lord, Takemura hesitated.

"Enter, Yojimbo (Bodyguard)," came the synthesized voice, snapping the man back to reality.

"Forgive my intrusion," the subordinate bowed, uttering the ritual phrase and walked woodenly straight to Saburo.

"Your mind is troubled, Goro. Has something happened that could shake your resolve?" The company head slowly turned to his bodyguard, peering intently into his eyes.

"Arasaka-sama, I have bad news for you..." Takemura knelt, bowing his head.

"No need to trouble yourself, Yojimbo. I have already received the sad news. My dear granddaughter and my only great-grandson are dead..." The Emperor took a brief pause, gathering his thoughts. "Hirako-chan was a rebel, but despite her character, she had ironclad principles." Saburo gestured for his bodyguard to stand. "Did you find their bodies?"

"Only Hirako-sama's body. When her chip finally activated, it was already too late. The scavengers..." The Emperor's hand rose, hinting for Goro to fall silent.

"What happened to that Russian?" For the first time in the conversation, the elderly man raised his voice. The news was hard for him to process.

"Your Oni (demon) dealt with him, my lord. The man tried to buy them time and died like a true warrior, protecting his family. I dare to ask your permission to bury him on your estate's grounds." Takemura respected Mikhail for his action. In his opinion, he deserved to be buried with honor next to his wife.

"Do you think this Gaijin deserves such an honor?" Saburo stared piercingly at his subordinate, searching for a hint of doubt in his gaze. Finding none, he nodded in agreement. "So be it. Bury my granddaughter and her husband in the same grave..." The Emperor closed his eyes again, sinking into deep contemplation. "Tomorrow, you and I will head straight to our research center. We need to expedite the biochip development. The 'Soul' project can no longer be delayed."

"As you command, Arasaka-sama." Goro again bowed his head. "May I leave?"

"Go, I need to be alone." The bodyguard obediently retreated and, turning on his heels, left his master's chamber. Reaching the door, Takemura bowed one last time, and then finally left the emperor in solitude.