A soft glow of green envelops the base. It's unnatural, but not unnatural enough to set any alarms off. The outpost is silent; a quiet, homelike sense of silence permeated the whole facility. Small outbursts of hushed whirring echo around certain rooms, the generators running on as minimal energy as possible. A time for nothing to be awake...
But there is someone. Weaving noiselessly through the myriad of traps, aluminum foil, security cameras, and plastic bags, they sneak into the generator's rumbling housing, taking out a small USB, inserting it into a rarely used plug, and starting an ominous installation...
The station fell silent. The installation completed, a seed planted deep within code. Eight others resonated, planting roots deep, feeding on energy...
[0800. Eight 'O Clock. Antarctic base #4, abandoned(?)]
Omega blinked himself awake. Despite the online persona he was attempting to create, he still needed sleep, and surprisingly much of it. He had slept...ten or eleven hours? It was too much work to figure out. Who needs to keep track of time so much, anyways?
He opened his eyes to the sight of cold daybreak, freezing winds, snowy atmosphere, and a disturbing, ever present, sense of loneliness.
He loved it here.
What better place was there? It had everything he needed, everything of course being food, water, a bed, warmth, and things to do. It even had snow! Who could ask for anything better? Of course, the lack of people may be a little bit sad sometimes, but he has a lot to do all the time. The base always needs fixing, the generators need refueling, the solar panels need cleaning (although since he rigged a window wiper on the high-power solar panels, he rarely needs to do it), and the lights need replacing.
It was early though, and Omega could relax... probably. He quickly ran through his brain to find out if something was needed of him when the lights flickered...
It was probably nothing. He finally realized he was most likely going to need to check on some parts, so he reluctantly got out of bed to get his tools.
{Character thoughts are phrased by italicizing them. Author's notes are put in curly brackets and underlined.}
Wish I could stay in bed... longer.
There was no need to get food. Even though he wasn't actually an android, incapable of emotion and not requiring food, he did have a high tolerance of hunger... a trait not shared by his thirst. Omega is thirsty for water a high percentage of the time, and this can be a pain when trying to do things. Fortunately, unlike some other places of the world, the Antarctic has a high freshwater content hidden in the ice, and Omega mines this for those days when the power goes out and he cannot recycle anything. A little bit of an odd person, him. He's always leaving lights on, forgetting why he's doing things, and forgetful of schedules. He's also determined to finish a task to the best of his ability once started, and keeping from being idle (if you classify idle as doing nothing.)
After he makes his way out of his room, the lights flicker again.
Must be the generator straining. Got to check that.
His to do list sat, on the fridge. Omega looked at it once, and immediately saw that he was mistaken. The work he regretfully got out of bed for? It was only needed the next day. What a lucky-ish break for him...
Of course, the one time I'm actually able to stay in bed, I have to forget my schedule and get up anyways... at least I can do something.
Fuming internally at himself, he didn't notice the generator's hum briefly stop, starting an instant later.
Omega walks tiredly over to his computer. If he was going to wake up early, he'll enjoy it at the very least!
He started up his computer, a slow, laggy, heavy, large laptop. His good computer is in his room, and is reserved for playing games on. The one he is using now will do.
TF2? Maybe something else. Not up for it right now... overtime... unturned... minecraft... DR2C... I guess I'll just do Discord then, confound my bloody pickiness. I bet in a few minutes I'll want to do something.
His computer started to drone, the fan quickly spinning up to speed. This would have been a tell otherwise but as he had his attention to his screen, he paid little attention to a whir going on inside his computer. The seed planted at midnight started, taking hold of the computer and slowly using the generator's resources to start creating a sort of wormhole...
Omega, of course, missed all of this.
A boom cracked through the room as the generator gave a final rasp and stopped. A sound not unlike the TARDIS from Doctor Who enclosed the room, but make no mistake. This was not a phone booth. This was a wormhole, brought out by an ingenious use of loopholes and code, a testament to the power of binary and technicalities. Omega stared in wonder and fear, wondering what the bloody heck was going on, as the wormhole slowly but steadily started drawing air and other materials towards it.
This, of course, meant that Omega was being sucked into a wormhole, never a great place to be in.
Why is this happening? I wonder- no... Maybe the generator- Why am I thinking that? It's stupid, someone had to have done this... wonder what's inside... huh.
The wormhole lessened it's grasp on the matter around it, Omega sucking in a breath of air. It was a little bit dusty...
Then the wormhole sucked in a massive gasp of air and pulled everything not bolted down towards it at least three feet. Fortunately, there was nothing broken. Omega has carpets on all of his floors, lest his feet freeze off from the glacial temperatures of the floor.
Unfortunately, Omega had also gone in to investigate. He was sucked into the hole torn in space, not screaming. He had always found screaming to be pointless anyways, and there was no reason to worry. Even if he had been sucked into a black hole, he would die instantly-ish, and if not there's nothing too bad about just hopping back in the wormhole.
Something he did not consider was that the wormhole was suspended about 50 meters above the ground.
[end ch. 1]