The machinery on the wall bleeped a few sensory lights: Red, yellow, and finally green. Ejected from one part of the depressed wall was a disc drive. Inside the circular glass object was data as much as a human brain could contain, or even more. A wobbling hand appeared from the darkness of the room and reach for the disc, careful not to drop it with his flimsy and wrinkly bone-thin hand.
He was balding, old, ridden with disease that a man shouldn't ever caught. His eyesight were too poor to see too well even with his glasses hung on top of the bridge of his nose. A slight snort and his vision will be disjointed, dislocated, and so he held his breath as his feet kicked him across the room while trying his best not to snag on the cables riddled across the floor.
The camera at one edge of the ceiling blinked as it optimized an image of an old scientist into a room full of people. All wearing white and thick coats as they stood around in silence, thoughts locked on into the big monitor at the center of the room. Everyone was holding their breath, watching with widened eyes as the old man inserted the disc into a cocoon-shaped machine at the center of the poorly-lit room.
As he inserted the disc into the control panel, the scientist didn't think that much about it. Soon he will not be able to recognize himself, and soon no human being will be able to. The smartest man in the world was at his last leg in both spirit and physique. Slowly supporting himself up from the wheeled-chair he was resting upon for so long, the cocoon opened up to reveal another chair. This one more comfortable and colored in blue, the same color the cocoon's neon lights that surrounded and highlighted the chair.
And so he rested on that same chair and let himself go in a relaxed state.
He closed his weary eyes and let his impaired ears hear the last moment of his life. A storm of machinery became a symphony in his minds, too scared to see what it was with his own two eyes. It could trick him his hopes and despairs, and so only tears were shed as the cocoon closed with him inside it. What was it that he had longed for all his life that he had dedicated so much patience to?
As his consciousness disappear, he hardly knew it too.
"What do you think Fate is? That was in everyone's mind. Across the ages and shattering the boundaries and concepts made by humanities it still became a hugely debated meaning. What becomes of the world governed not by fate? What becomes of such fate in which it wasn't tied to the world? Only fate would know."
-Hearn