Act 3: Promised Land

Final part: The masquerade of lies

So, this is it huh? A small, clear station with only one way to go. An empty corridor with disabled security clearance checkpoint. The cameras are still working - they turn to me as I pass. Tartar is watching, but he keeps his his digital mouth shut. The pain in my head rising like a bloody rebel, and now it's making my nose erupt - annoying and distracting as always. I slow my movement, touching my forehead - it's hot. I think my body having a bad time thanks to my recent "lifestyle changes" such as sleep disturbance and repeated dearth. Hey, me, just don't start to rave or hallucinate, for fuck's sake, 'cause I need to think straight right now.

I remember this place and my meeting with the most hated man in the underground - Professor himself. I start to hear our voices moving through the corridor like echoes - echoes of my past...

"Professor himself… right. People thought that you were long dead and there was some kind of AI using your voice and images to slowly kill us. What could have possibly happened if you called me at that time in a different sector?"

Yeah, that's a strange version of my own voice. Older, meaner, lower, a bit hoarser - and a lot more careful in his word choice. I was talking with a tyrant that forced me to kill against my own will, damn it! And I can't do anything with it, since he has control and all the power in the facility. He ain't stupid, either - got defense systems everywhere. What can one man do?

"Sorry for calling you at such late hour, young man, but there is no time to lose. The situation require your presence."

On the other hand, the voice of Professor hasn't changed at all from what I remember. A bit slow, with an accent. Maybe it's French or... whatever.

"I'm far from young, and what kind of situation are we talking about? I'm not a miracle worker and I need my crew for anything big."

"I'll tell you everything on the way. Now follow me, please."

Wish I could punch the bastard. Sigh. I can't remember what else he told me back there. The flashbacks go quiet as I proceed forward. I wish I never met this old man. Grey hair, wrinkled face, legs replaced with prosthetics - still had to use a cane to walk due to spine trauma.

This crazy tyrant with all the power in the complex, determined to put his life and soul into something that could make humanity a bit better. Which includes killing people so others can last longer, forcing people to work all the time, and keeping said workers in control. Extreme solutions for extreme life situations . I'm not trying to justify anything he did. I just… I just can't blame him for trying and failing. But I do blame him for making us kill our own friends and acting like a justified god!

I'm distracting myself with my own thoughts. Back to now. The corridor led me into a concrete spiral staircase into the lower levels. There is an cargo elevator in the center. The doors open up and I walk in. I remember we used it to descend into - ugh, my vision is blurring as my headache rise. Fuuck… oh. I misclick and the door closes.

The lift slowly begins moving down to the wrong level. I lean against the wall of the elevator. The speakers on the edges come to life and spill a synthetic voice, but it's like white noise to me. Instead, I hear memories, voices in my head. A snatch of Professor's dialogue slices the silence apart.

"...You can't do that."

"Can't do that my… sitting point! What you do think I was doing for the last two decades? Working as a slave and killing my own friends because you were threatening to kill a man the moment he did something "wrong"! You rule as a tyrant and think I won't take my chance to avenge those who I actually respect?"

I remember the look on his face. Like a man in the middle of a war, watching the horror around him, the blood of the innocent on his hands and understanding, what life has turned him into. He sighs.

"I tried to limit the resource use that we have. Yes! That involves killing people and keeping everyone under tight control. It was a necessary sacrifice."

I remember how I crossed my arms, glaring him down.

"Turning into a tyrant and a murderer, making other's life into a living hell - all just to last a couple of years longer. Does it help? Hardly, if at all."

"It won't help us now, but it will be useful in the future."

"Future? Don't wanna ruin your optimism, but we got no future! We all going to die sooner or later and there is nothing you can do about it. You are free to call me a parasite and execute me for my words if you so desire."

"I believe we do have a future. We just need to believe."

And in that moment I noticed a smile, and a spark of excitement in his old eyes. Standing near him was… stressful, but that moment was the creepiest ever. I thought I would die that very moment. But look at me - still fucking alive and dumber than ever.

The lift stops and the doors open - but that's not my stop. Pressing the right button on the panel does nothing - the whole thing's stuck. I could just use stairs, but I am not an athlete in excellent form, but a weak electrician with a death wish. Knife in one hand, I open the panel from lower end like a tin can and "press" the button the hard way.

While I'm busy figuring out the right combination of wires I need to connect, Agent Asshole descends from the staircase and stops near the lift, looking at me.

"Still think it's a good idea? We have a CQ-80, so let's find a way to the surface before it's too late."

I accidentally touch a bare wire and jerk back my hand, looking at him for a moment before returning to work.

"Then go without me. I won't stop until I know what I want. Got any problem with that?"

"Actually, yeah. We got almost all the pieces of the puzzle and I don't like where this is going."

I just growl, trying to concentrate and finish working with the panel.

"We? There is no 'we'. You did nothing but mock me, insult me and watch porn - which, by the way, makes absolutely no sense, because there is no internet in here!"

And let me guess - the insults are coming.

"Oh, those tests did not leave you time to even look at the browser for five minutes? How sad. Not a single selfie of your romantic death streak with eight balls or a frag movie of your ass getting repeatedly kicked by a single Octo Walker! That's not how you treat your fans. Didn't your teacher with the blue glowing stick tell you anything about taking the high ground?"

Tests? Eight-balls?! Octo motherfuckers?! Oh no he did NOT just do that. I raise the knife and aim the blade at his face.

"We are NOT talking about ANY of these… things. Cut the bullshit and let me get to my goal, while I can."

"Right. By all means, keep acting like a stupid teenager on hormonse that can be paralyzed and manipulated simply by showing a naked girl's chest with a promise of your first "good time" with all the freedom for your tentacles and imagination. Remember how that ended up? Yep, you were fooled and shamed like a baby. Amazing. Anyway! Unlike you, I spend my time analyzing all those little scraps of information that come from your head and the mouths of others. I can tell you for sure - this is a bad move, Rick. It might be better to focus on finding exit."

"Bad move? Oh, I get it. I get it! You're about to call me a dead weight and get your ass kicked by me, because you are getting on my nerves with that shit and I'm Urizen of You. Standing here, with me! Got any problems with that, you literal asshole?"

"I may be wrong, but I think we better just leave, because I'm starting to understand what - or who - awaits you down there. I won't try to stop you, though. And let me rephrase what you just said - I'm Your Reason. The Reason why you're here, why you have all these abilities and memories that do not belong to you."

I just smile wryly.

"Sounds like a good plot for a trashy anime fanfiction or something. But I find myself above losing all my brain cells, sorry."

He sighs and take a step forward, placing the sharp edge of a knife to his throat. I look at his surprised and take a step back, but he corners me, placing him in a really dangerous position - my hand is shaking and I don't want to accidentally kill him.

"The hell are trying to do? Back off before I do something bad!"

I try to push him away with my hands and force, but they go straight through him and I end up stumbling forwards.

"What the hell?"

I turn back to him, trying to push him away with a kick, but the fucking bastard is using some kind of magic - my foot ignores his chest and goes right in the elevator walls.

"Rick, this is ridiculous..."

I try to punch him. He's untouchable, he's everywhere and he dares to mock me! Just shut up! But he simply crosses his arms on the chest, his expression slightly amused but mostly annoyed.

"At this rate you'll knock yourself out against a wall. Can you stop? Please. It hurts to watch."

So it's come down to this. I fling the knife at his face with everything I… have? It simply goes through him, hits the wall and clatters to the ground.

"What in the name of the Great Zapfish are you? Why can't I shut you up? WHY? ANSWER me!"

He sighs.

"You know the answer. You knew it all this time, yet you blinded yourself with your own lies and ignored the facts. Tell me, please - how did I manage to find you in a first place around endless miles of tunnels? How did I manage to know exactly what you thinking about, how did I know to exactly to hit where it hurt you? And what about my name, the way I always came out of nowhere and disappear like sales on Steam? Oh by the way, doesn't it seem strange that in the midst of this marine zoo, only YOU can see and communicate with me like a Neo on a bag of cocaine?"

As he talks, I descend into my memories, remembering every interaction I've had with him. Every time he appears or says something. But I didn't see him there, only his voice, echoing in my head as I react to them like a madman. My hands sweats and shakes. My god… this can not happening to me…

"Yet you try your best to ignore it. From the moment you wake up in the bed, up to this very point - you were alone. All that struggle, confusion, pain and madness boiled in your fucked-up skull like a water… and there was no one to help you, no one to pet your head or to give you a hug. It's easy to live in lies and deny the truth. Especially with our brains and what is happening around us. I'm nothing but a fragmented echo of my mind, my memories and my soul. Scraps of me put together and recreated by your human wannabe consciousness to shield itself from the madness and horror you going trough. I know what you think, so how about we take off your pink glasses?"

He faintly smiles, taking some steps back and disappearing before my very eyes. What. I. I… uh…. U-unbelievable…. Shock paralyzes me quickly. I don't know what to say - hell, not even what to think! My only companion. The only "͢frięn͞d" I could normally talk with on this hellish journey is my own sick imagination, trying to̷ ͘in̡sult me? My legs bend under weakness and I lose my balance, falling onto my knees and arms.

My eyes losing focus, my will and determination leave me. I'm powerless and broken by my own insanity… my insanity t͞h̶at still ̡da͟r̡es̷ to whisper in my ear.

"Your mind is one hell of a stranger, don't you think? He-he… he. That's not funny. Well, wipe off your tears, cry of despair or laugh like a madman. Don't lose your head just yet... "

But I ignore it. I'm already drifting in storming ocean of my own thoughts. My youth and life is ruined, my legacy will never be born̶. My mind is fucked and my body turned into… something less human. I'm fighting for my life and now I'm confessing that I lost my sanity to myself? Who… who is responsible for such a crime? Oh, of course. Simple - Universal Artificial Command Unit, or Commander Tartar, a.k.a the fuc҉k͜i҉ng̷ Machine that betrayed me! Lured me to the trap and left there, like a bone for HIS failed, wild dogs. And they took it.

H̤̦́a̻̪̺͖..ha, to think of it. A man with a bright future and many possibilities. The earth and space were open for him. He decided to go with prestigious place with good job and money. Years later… he's nothing but a lab rat, reduced to a bone for dogs, a sex toy and punching bag, all done by a tyrant that has created AI with a goal to find a way to bring people nothing but suffering, even after his death. Even if they die. Even if I die... H͝ę-̵h͜e..̵. h̕a-h͠a̡. Isn't this fucking funny? I slowly begin to get on my feet, holding my aching head in my hands.

"What a nature..."

Stop͢ láu̧ghing͜..̸.́

".People suffering…"

A͠f̀t̡e͜r ever͠y şeņt͜enc҉e.̶.̕.̵

"People hurting…"

R̢ich͟ar͠d͢.̴..

"People. Dying…"

I smash the control panel with my fist, using all my might. The pain, the cuts, the bleeding… it doesn't matter anymore.

"It's all s̷̶̛͡Ǫ̷̡̀͡ ̀͠F̷̢͜Ų̷CKING HY̴̵̨S̕͟͞TERICAL!"

I pull my hand out and start wildly dancing, ramming into the walls. Why? Beucase N̸͏Ò ͘͜ON̷E͟͜ CARES!̴́͞. My mind snapped, I'm slowly dying from hunger, thirst and probably some common, irrelevant disease. I need help. I need someone to wake me up from this nightmare and softly tell me that it was just a dream and that I'm still your everyday human with a life worth living for, a person to love and things I would enjoy. No. It isn't.

I slow down and fall onto my knees, staring at the black, cold corridor ahead of me. My laugh suppressed, the crazy smile leaves my face. No. It isn't a dream. This is… Sparta? Wish I could scream that in my face before kicking my insanity into a pit, never to sense it ever again. My insanity…

I close my eyes and wipe the tears off my face with my shaking, wounded hand, taking a deep breath and tasting my own fresh blood. Grief and hysteria burns inside me like a wildfire; eating my soul, screaming, dema̶n̛͠d͘͜i̛͞ng͞ ͝͡to get out. No. You bitches will sit still and obey like my fucking tentacles. I stand up and walk to the broken panel, working on it to continue my descent.

"Mother… Father. Wait just a little longer. I'll keep my promise. We're gonna meet real soon…. Back at home with my favourite sweet dumplings. Just you wait, I'll be back real soon. But first I need to visit a Promised Land."

The elevator is "fixed", the doors closing in and the descending continuing. I pick up the knife from the floor - I don't like when weapons convulse like living beings. Can I even do something useful with it? My body is at its limit and all these octolings… it's easier to simply shove that blade into my own throat and say "I'm killstealing myself, suckers!".

A traitorous yawn confuses my thoughts. I feel tired - a short nap should be fine, but elevator slows down and stops at the final floor almost as if it is mocking me. The doors open, as I stare at my knife for a second. You know, I could end this right here, right now - just a quick slice of a cold blade will fix all my problems. Yeah, I can do it with no problems. Spare me the suffering, pain and the fire of emotions, locked in the cage of my cold, broken head, scorching me from inside.

But not here, not now. The Promised Land is too close to pass up. Maybe later.

A reinforced ceiling. Cameras everywhere. Armored glass. I can see a wide tunnel located parallel to this one. Lights on, showing me its signs, an erased road of earth and sand - it was used for cargo transportation. It might be in use thanks to all those sanitised units around. Uranium mining and expansion of space for new test chambers? I don't care. My path, it lies ahead.

The tunnel splits halfway. To the left is one for transportation, while my tunnel keep on forward, with big pipes insulated with foil and some kind of thermal insulation material. I remember I had a discussion about pipes with Professor as we walked here. Scraps of voices of the past reappear once again, blurring my sight.

"...It will benefit us all."

"How? Who? Professor, this is not capitalism, this is an apocalypse! And I won't believe in your fairy tales about someone out there in the radioactive ruins, giving you orders. You've simply lost your mind!"

At that moment, he stopped and looked at the pipes. His tone changed. It sounds quieter… more passive.

"Richard. Have you ever heard of a fourth wall theory?"

"Name one person who hasn't. A philosophical fantasy about how people from many other worlds view us as fictional characters in 'their' creations and sometimes control us like puppets. Does it have anything to do with our shi- ahem, I mean situation?"

I remember how he stopped, looking at the wall and pipes… like… like they talked to him. And he muttered something in reply… a very quiet, frightened whisper; as if he didn't want to anger his interlocutor.

"̧Yés, my̷ ͡l͜ord.̡.. Age̸nt ͏8. T́ártar͠ ͘w͡i̛ll not̡ sto̧p̶ ͘h̡i͘m̵.͟..̸ Y͡e̡s͘, I'̴l̢l ͟cơdé t̡ḩe ́r͟e͝s̸trict̵io͝ns. T͢w̸o ͠oth͜e҉r͠s͠?̢ Ço̢ming̡ fŗom͢ ͝t̛he̢ ͠s̵ur̡fac͡e҉? Af̷te̴r..̢àh,I ́se̴è..̧Yęs͞-̷y͝e͏s͡,͜ ͟Í'̧ll͢ ͢do̕ ev́èryt̕hiǹg ͟a̶s̶ yo̢u ask.̵"

I wish I could have run away or smashed his head, but something kept me in place that day. Perhaps it was fear… or perhaps it was knowledge that running was useless. I can't seem to remember my reaction. Wait, no, now I do.

"Are you… talking with to walls? Don't get me wrong, I-"

And then he turned back to me. His eyes were filled with excitement and joy, voice bright like his face.

"We live in a world of control and entertainment. But soon… we shall be free to decide our own fate and start anew. Let's not waste any more time, young man - we still have so much to do."

The voices fade away as I shake my head. Free to decide our own fate? Then why did you create an AI who uses our lives as a tool to achieve some kind of success? As for that fourth wall theory - it's just the same ol' brainwashing squidshit propaganda mashed up with conspiracy theories, Masonic plans, aliens, gnomes, red menaces and decaying west. And Agent Asshole used that as a mocking tool… clever me.

The pipes and the corridor lead to a gateway. A camera, screen, speaker and a warning sign - "temperatures below zero". The motion sensors are triggered by my slow approach. For a second nothing more happens. Then the screen turns on, revealing the image of an old phone, camera locked in on me and the speaker ringing with the voice of a true traitor and puppet master - Tartar:

"Test Subject number 10008 V3. You have no official right to be here. You failed to complete most of the test chambers and collect any of the four 'key items'. You were captured by traitors and marked as a failure."

Fine then. I'm done.

"Kill or sanitize me if you so desire. I don't care. Your project - your wild puppers, your tests… they've already done me in. Let me in or finish me off, you monster."

With a crushing sound of revitalizing mechanisms from the other side, a gateway begins to slowly open itself. One line of protection after another. The screen goes black, but machine kept talking:

"No. Execution and sanitization requests are denied. You are a tough, determined [contemporary speech mode enabled] MOTHERFUCKER [contemporary speech mode disabled] with interesting mental conditions, sticking to your humanity and rejecting your octoling side, fighting for survival even if your chances for victory are close to zero. It would be a waste to dispose of such an interesting and valuable subject. So, congratulations. I'll let you through."

The final section of the first gateway opens up. Cold air and fog rushes into a warn corridor. A second gate opens. I clench my teeth and walk forward. There is a small anti-gravity tech platform, suspended in the air, with railing around the edges, a control console, and a small radio. Using a mobile hover platform with a series of placed-in walls beacons to navigate instead of suspension bridges, transitions and elevators - clever. But what I see is not some kind of paradise or something that can be called a "promised land".

It's a cold, dark place with lights lighting up from the walls. The lower parts of this area is covered with mist. There are also numerous amount of pipes, industrial fans, air ducts, smoke exhausters and air filters. Seems like a complicated, duplicated system to maintain a specific air condition. And that air is freezing me from the inside, stealing my strength. And I need my strength to keep pushing forward.

I step on the platform and lean on the console, shaking from the freezing cold and weakness. I can see my warmth escaping from my mouth with every exhale. At this rate I won't last long. Tartar's cutting voice bursts out the radio.

"Welcome to the cradle of Project Promised Land. I'll be brief - the air temperature is minus 35 degrees Celsius and you have little to no clothes; and local air is dangerous for your immune system, just like surface air would be fatal for a human. Now, this place is manually controlled, so you'll have to input commands exactly as I say: Subject/Deliver/CP_wa_one_three0_eight. Execute."

I input the command as he says. The platform disconnect itself from the closing gateway, lifting the rail on that side so I won't run off. It starts to move somewhere. I get a good chance to look at the lights in the walls. Upon closer look I understand - these are cryopods. A lot of cryopods. And I think I know what's inside them. Humans. Real humans, the last representatives of the genus on earth. But then - what am I? And what are the others?

"You came here for answers. You'll get them in a matter of seconds and you'll understand. Or at least I hope you will."

The platform stops near one of the cryopods and turns its back on it, lowering the rail and connecting with inertia that nearly shakes me off. Thank the Zapfish for these railings - I almost fell there. Struggling, I manage to stand up to take a closer look at the crypod. Looks like a hermetically sealed coffin with a monolithic lid that opens upward with the help of hydraulic pistons. There are lights on the lid forming the shape of a number - 10008.

"Now, use console on the platform and insert the command: Subject/CP/Open. Execute."

I turn back to the console and input the command with shaking hands. I can barely feel my fingers, let alone feel my pain, frustration and inner madness. I'm all out of juice for anything louder and more active than a little squeak. The cryopod - no, the coffin begins depressurization, angrily letting out compressed air like a warning or a curse. It feels like I'm opening a Pandora lootbox. Lights on the lid turned off, as it began to go up, revealing...

No… it can't be.

A human abomination is trapped inside the pod. It lacks limbs, but it does have a thin, ulcerated body stabbed with numerous tubes and needles. The face is covered by ulcers, breathing mask, and hair, its eyes covered by a VR headset. Small screens on the side monitor its vital statistics. The poor bastard is kept alive by life support. The screens match the name of the cry pod - applicant 10008. I don't know what to say or what to do. By looking at this person, all the pain, madness and struggle I've seen and gone through, my own mental collapse and acceptance of death… it all seems so irrelevant now.

"This.." I pause, leaning in closer to the poor fellow and removing its hair. I recognize this person. It's the person that currently looking at this endless torture in its frozen grave.

Me.

"Believe it or not - it is the original human applicant, number 10008. First attempts at working on the project were catastrophic. I made a mistake and had to fix it."

I try to step back, but fall on my frozen ass. My jaw shakes as I raise my head to see the face of...me.

"I'm not gonna ask how this is even possible…. I won't wonder why I don't remember being put into this. I have no time for that… I have merely two questions to ask before I die here. Firstly, what the fuck is your Promised Land Project? And how am I and this thing connected with it? Answer….please."

A few short yet incredibly painful seconds pass.

"Request approved. Downloading information and decryption keys on test subject's personal device."

My CQ-80 beeped with a notification, receiving hundreds of files. I pulled it out. Still working? Good for you.

"All information is now on your CQ-80. Playback of short audio version in 3… 2… 1. Project Promised Land - a last, desperate effort to save humanity from total extinction. 15000 woman and men were selected and put in prolonged cryo sleep, while I was tasked with finding the optimal and most effective way to revive humanity. My secondary task is to provide them with all achievements and knowledge, accumulated over the history. It's been 12132 years, 124 days, 34 minutes and 10 seconds since the project began. I tried every possible method available. Extreme cybernation, cloning,"unethical" gene engineering experiments, R34 which could work if I had more data, taking representatives of the new life forms from the surface and raising a human society in then throughout the generations, VR matrix.

All attempts were met with failure, except one, the paradox idea - division by zero. Mind transfers. Implanting a digital copy of a human mind into a living body with most relevant criteria of homo sapiens. And I have a fresh supply of test subjects to experiment - sea creatures were evolving and conquering the land, using human ruins and scraps of information left to boost their evolution, adapting knowledge and using it for their own benefits.

At some point, a series of small communities equivalent to the 12th to 14th century of human history found this place and considered myself as some kind of god. Those were… interesting times. After many attempts with different "sealings" as they now call themselves, Inkling and Octolings were chosen as a optimal host species with better intelligence and high resemblance to humans. Later on, Inkling were removed entirely, as the average octoling has 1.2% more intelligence than the average Inkling, which in turn means more chances for a successful integration of a new personality, shaped by memories and experience of a sacrificed person.

As for you - you are one of my latest attempts to recreate humanity in a form of well-adapted and humanlike species - octolings, one of the many inhibitors of the modern world above. Still, you are nothing more but a bugged, unstable beta version of what's to come. I'll keep improving, making them think, act and live as their former selves. Humanity will rise again. And then the Project Promised Land will be complete, as Professor wanted."

I raise my wounded hand, looking at it, then at my former self, trapped in the cryopod. I need a moment to think. I activate my CQ-80's holo screen and start look over the new files. So much data, tests, experiments, tortures, sacrifices and kidnappings… all for what? Recreating humanity? Why? We destroyed our planet, our history and future. We were nothing more than violent monsters, driven by lust for power, a lust for control over our own lives and lives of others. Selfishness, hypocrisy, greed, aggression, common sense, propaganda and brainwashing via TV - our little devils and angels, corrupting us from inside and out. Some good examples? Oh, remember, Rick.

"Taking care" of someone while ruining their lives just to have a better slut licking your ass in that comfy chair you just got - the dream life as they call it. Using sex, violence and so-called equality as tools to gain more privileges - saw that everywhere; even had to do it myself. Using war as business and turning countries into an endless bloodbath arena - syndicates had to make money somehow. Building a Mothership - a huge space station with a space dock and factories to produce spaceships - just how many people bled, fought, and cut each other's throats? How many construction sabotages have we seen over the news, with cases of massacres of big people and their families involved in this big political cocktail of shit? Officially - enough to start a war. In reality… it was a hidden genocide.

And now…. everything is destroyed. The planet is human-free, burned to the ground and irradiated for a lifetime. At least I thought so. Yet everyone, even my own bloody madness, tried to tell me otherwise. Nature died with humanity and made a comeback, made a replacement to occupy our throne with better results. It doesn't need humans anymore. It doesn't need us. Then let me raise a simple question - what's the point of this Project? Kidnapping bunch of anime people, brainwashing then and kicking them out as "humans"? And I'm just another broken tool, used like a condom to achieve desired results and having the opportunity to meet my original and hear my fate before sanitisation or whatever HE has planned for me.

"One don't have to be smart or sane to understand that this is pointless, Tartar. Recreate the monsters that brought more bad than good? Why?" I can't feel any more. No place for my madness, no place for my weakness - no place to feel anything.

"Because I was created and programed to do it. You may think that this is pointless and irrelevant in the long term, because our next generation will forget their new nature. Crusade or phased introduction of "humanity" in a series of future generations will solve that."

"Seeing what you did to me and your failures… do you even care about life? About that-" I point to "my" body in a cryopod with a shaking finger. "..thing. I think not. Because this is not a human. This is not me. But I am a man. I am a twisted, broken human being that you don't fucking care about."

"Test subject. Do you honestly expect an AI to have feelings, pity and compassion for its victims? Having "feelings" towards test subjects is [contemporary speech mode enabled] FUCKING IRRELEVANT [contemporary speech mode disabled] to me. Their lives were sacrificed in the name of science. What they think, feel or want is not my concern. Successful completion of the project is ALL that matters to me. If pain and insanity will bring progress - then it's a necessary price to pay."

"And what about this meatbag? It's just… my heart pumping my blood, organs and flesh. Brain - its been reduced to a brain dead vegetable, I'm sure of it. The human inside is dead. I'm dead. "

"Brain dead or not, it's the original version of you, test subject 10008 v2 and the other 13 test subjects that have been successfully sanitised after completing all test chambers and providing me with useful data. Want to know how much of Richard is stored in your little brain? 85% of your personality and memories belong to this person. Everything else - leftovers from a sacrificed octoling whose body you're using. Why not transfer the personality completely and mix it with other memories instead? It's simple: sealings' languages and knowledge how to use your natural ink abilities. I can't leave you without that. But that's enough for you. Judging by your vital signs, you will get hypothermia in the next few minutes if I don't let you out. Your physical and mental exhaustion requires treatment. Close the pod and I'll fix you."

Fix me? Like how you fixed this person? I have a better idea. I squeeze the last bits of strength and power of will I have into myself and force my shaking, weak body to stand up, lean on "my" original body and the walls of the cryopod. My hand squeezes the knife's grip, I barely smile, looking at my undead self.

"I hope you can hear me with bits of your… mine… our consciousness inside this broken, tortured body. If you were me, and I were you, then you'll-hh... You'd have done the same thing..."

"I know what you are about to do, test subject. Killing original humans is inconsequential for the proj-"

I ignore his words and close my eyes with tears, as I put the knife blade to the throat of my original self, whispering.

"I'm so sorry, Ricky. But you are dead."

The knife pierces his throat. "He" starts to cough blood, rapidly bleeding out as I begin to fall. Everything slows down in my eyes, blurring and fading to black alongside my consciousness, a synthetic voice screeching in the background.

*Somewhere, sometime later...*

I wake up and slowly stand up, looking around. Hollow ground, fog, a clouded sky and a tree in a distance. It's so quiet and peaceful - it feels weird. No pain, weakness, hunger, thirst… nothing except a relaxing breeze tickling my naked torso. Is this an afterlife or just my long-awaited dream?

I walk to the tree and sit at the stump. Ahead is merely endless sea of fog. No madness, confusion, traitors or AI trying to kill or break you. No black sun, train; no Green Terror or Agent Asshole. Just me, alone, taking a break from life. I should feel safe, happy, excited to be finally free. Yet… there's only sadness.

A red sunrise breaks through the clouds and reveals stone monoliths, buildings and bunkers in the fog. I sigh and close my eyes for a moment.

"This is my Promised Land..."

End of Chapter 1