Darkness, was all he could perceive. He didn't know how long he was imprisoned but he lost count somewhere along the way.
It wasn't relaxing him now. Nothing was relaxing, not like it used to be. He didn't know if it was his death, the stress of the darkness, the conflict in his mind, or what had happened before his untimely death. Whatever it was he was agitated.
He didn't like being agitated. He had mastered the art of not being agitated. Cool wasn't just a style choice, it was a survival mechanism. You could do whatever you wanted, but you did it cool, not hot.
At the moment he was not cool. He was about as far from cool as he'd been since before he got his freedom. Back then you learned and learned fast. Emotions were weapons in his family. There were too many who could feel them, twist them, turn them against you. Stay cool and stay off the radar. Stay cool, don't run hot.
Hot. The flames. The light reflected in lenses of a gasmask. The metallic laughter. That feeling, the point where he didn't even feel the heat anymore, just the pain and the smell of charred...
He shoved his laptop away from him and struggled to breathe. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.
After a few labored breaths the pounding in his chest slowed and a cold sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He wondered again if this was that adrenaline or the narcotics shoved inside his body. The effects of everything turned up to eleven, but instead of the crash that comes with a drug high you find a solid foundation beneath you.
If this was what people meant by getting high on life then they could go fuck themselves.
Clothing:neat but unremarkable. Purposefully ordinary in order to avoid standing out. Hates attracting attention.
—Is someone analysing me? Who's there.
Mutism:not a voluntary choice; lack of speech stands out too much to be in line with his desire to stay under the radar. No observed physical abnormalities: mutism psychologically induced. Is selectively mute. Has embraced and repurposed mutism into a tactic to drive others away.
Lack of engagement:Aversion to getting involved with or attached to others unless he absolutely have too. Avoiding eye contact — finds looking at others unpleasant. Tries to discourage social interactions as much as possible.
Ingrained habit: has lived like this for years.
Lack of engagement, hates receiving attention:too severe to stem purely from natural disposition — pattern of past events has led to him associating attention and social connection with negative consequences. Traumatic upbringing.
What is this series of conclusions that are giving me a tragic past, and that pitiful assessment and mindset is far to Robotic for my taste.
Traumatic upbringing, constantly driving others away:friendless and unlikely to do anything about it. Social needs unmet — is depressed.
It's a good thing the my kidnapper's conclusions aren't that accurate, but I want to protest on principle anyways. Me? Depressed? Some people just prefer to keep to themselves, you know — Introvert? I'm perfectly fine like this.
At that point, I lost interest and decided to averted my attention on this place. My ears might be on the speaker but that rest of my attention is solely focused on something more important.
Like this place for example.
The ground is hard, smooth and the texture doesn't matched anywhere nearby my home. Or atleast close to my proximity, as far as I remembered, few places exists that has titled floors. And a few clinks into the ground gave me a similar clank to that of my house, so yes. I'm positive it's made of smoothed marbles.
The air-- is humid, it lacks the pollution of rural communities and the temperature is far too hot. Barely bearable, overall--
Long-term behavior:Not inclined to change his habits — doesn't believe he's depressed.
Don't immediately go and undermine my validity as a narrator like that. Why would I be depressed? It's just that there's nothing in this world that can motivate me, and I can get myself all the fame and wealth that you could dream of in less than a decade if really want to. Next thing you'll be saying is I need more friends or something melodramatic.
Highly independent. Believes he can manage his circumstances on his own. Would be offended by implications otherwise. Would be offended by someone bringing up his depression or mutism.
I'd be offended because neither of those things are true.
Seriously… I can talk just fine. I could go out and make as many friends as I want — with my telepathy, it'd be easy to charm anyone I wanted into keeping me company. Just because I don't want to... huh?
Conclusion: Subject in question is highly recommended for the next expedition-- Demiurge (Alec) Ohara, is selected.
Suddenly, a bright light consumed me. My was overridden by bright light to the point my eyes burned and my vision darkened, and my sleep deprived brain barely resisted the temptation of resting.
There didn't seem to be an end to this black and white space yet there also only seemed to be around ten square meters of space he could move. The space, made of interweaving black and white cubes, was painful to the eye. It appeared to stretch out indefinitely, with no end in sight.
However, Alec's range of motion was limited in the space. He tried walking out, but was repelled by an invisible boundary.
[Welcome to my world, 3D intelligent-Carbon base life form, Mr. Ohara, or Should I call you in your nickname as Alec? no matter.] Stated in a cheerful tune under the veil of a robotic voice. A new voice, a new intruder.
A black and white rubix cube flew out from who knows where and floated in the space. Although it didn't have a mouth, Alec could hear it speak. It's voice sounded just like Alec's as it rang in the space.
Alec stared at the black and white rubix cube indifferently. He had no surprise, no fluster, nor raised any questions, yet. Though he did rose his eyebrow out of mild curiosity. He read enough genetic franchise to see where this is going, but that doesn't mean he isn't impressed.
Real life is far different from a fictional one after all.
"You sure are calm," The black and white rubix cube's 90 tiles spun, "Blood pressure: 116-76. Heart rate: 68 BPM. You're really not surprised or afraid, and you're not faking your temperate either."
"Since I'm already here, I might as well hang on for the ride." Alec said unhurriedly, or perhaps lazily.
[But you have to be at least a little bit curious, right?" The black and white rubix cube's tiles spun madly, "There are many who aren't afraid, but they'll at least have some other emotions. For example, excitement, surprise, disbelief -there's plenty, but you have none, or one that I could see in the outside.]
"It's probably because my heart's already dead so nothing can stir up my interest. This space completely subverts everything I know about the real world, but so what?"
It's not like it could bring me back to life. Alec silently thought inwardly.
[Oh? Is that so?] The black and white rubix cube paused, its tiles appearing to form a slight, malicious smile. [I can tell that you're using everything you have to suppress this emotion of 'sadness' inside you. Is it because of boredom, I know you don't have a goal in your history so perhaps a lack of direction to have your own path? Oooo, how edgy~] He says playfully
That narrowed his eyes for fraction of a second, he stared indifferently as plans slowly constructed in his mind.
The black and white rubix cube started to change shape, slowly forming a face, using black lines to sketch out his own.
Or at least he thinks so as CGI, or Anime seems to be a better apt.
"...What is that supposed to be?"
[It'll be your avatar, but before that. I'd like to congratulate you for getting a second chance of life, but because of that. You're now an employee of mine, an agent so to say to do my... bidding.
My name is S.H.A.R.D, though I preferred to be called 'S' or Entity.]
That caught him off guard, from what he had parched it seems to be a recruitment speech of some sort, he heard and knew of these patterns from experience and decided to stay silent and observe the cube for further assessment.
All the while maintaining his indifference and lazy facade to obscure anything that could out him.
"...But, why do this?"
[ Why does anyone do anything? ] it stated with amusement lace in its tone, as if he was just asked by a stupid question.
[Why by sheer, utter boredom! Sigh... I've lacked inspirations for decades, my cycle became montaigne... lacking focus. AIMLESS!] It shouted with enthusiasm with its mixture of robotic auto-tuned voice.
[ I have come to sought after a new type of method to extract DATA! And what better way to do that than hiring a human of my own in various worlds?]
"I... See, and I assume that 'Agent' would be me? Wait... what does thaeven mean?"
[ Hohoho~ you see, I plan to reborn you into a lesser shard of my collective. Initially, I planned to lobotomize you into my bidding. But if I do that then you're no different from my childrens. Or soon to be siblings in your case.]
"..." He felt something chilled his spine, he felt dread. One that rivals his death, the concept of being a prisoner or slave wasn't something he's unfamiliar.
And this topped him being burned alive by that psycho-bitch.
[ Now what's with the sudden nervousness? There's no need to be blue, like I said before, I've changed my mind and decided that your consciousness shall stay.]
"...So does," I gulp a mouthful of saliva as I consider my words. "Does that mean I wouldn't be under your... 'influence'?"
[ Ohohoho~ of course not, that's whacky nonsense. Sure you'll have your consciousness but did you honestly think I'll let you go? ]
'No... I suppose not'
[Now don't go gloom all of a sudden, since you're under my care. I planned to establish a good working relationship! Just because your my agent doesn't mean I'll treat you anything unfairly, as much as I'd like to keep up this fine conversation.
Unfortunately our time is up! I have business to attend to but bn't worry though, I'll download the necessary information on how things works after I left...]
"Then why have this conversation in the first place if you could just insert some information into me?"
Despite not having a face, I could the Entity smiled at my question.
[ Consider it an investment my dear! ]
With a resounding clap, he blacked out.
Inconsequential.
The familiar voice that is much more Robotic, and apathetic came back which agitated Alec's wariness as he stiffened.
In the end, he could only sigh in... acceptance, after reviewing his memories along with the additional influx of informations.
"Yes. Might as well go along the ride."
Suddenly the reply became garbled, it static a few times before falling into a white noise.
"Yeah? Wait... What's going on," It was surprising how the mood shift as the new and smaller Cube(?) deformed into a disgusting mess.
The room fell apart revealing the darkness of space, seeing the cosmic and shining stars. It contrasted with the ethereal tentacles that several spans celestial bodies and ocean of crystals (Cubes?)
Then, in an instant.
It was replaced with a spartan, metallic room. He instinctively know that this is his personal Dimension, a pocket space of sorts.
He also knows that this body wasn't physical, but one created by his subconscious mind.
As he stepped into the 'room's' floor, his eyebrows raised. Although he could still feel his heart pounding from the sheer adrenaline, it didn't help his inner turmoil.
Everything happened fast, then came the Knowledge.
Therewas silence after that. It took me quite a while to absorb all this information.
Right now.
He was dressed in a very fine Black business suit, complete with a fedora on top. in his hand, he held an envelope that's written in cursive English fonts.
He could onle gave an awkward, stiffened smile around the cigarette in his mouth, and he wrinkled his nose as the resemblance of his association heightened his adrenaline.
"Okay, first of all, you know I hate smoke."
He pluck the mint flavoured cigarette out of his lips to examine what kind of brand it is, in the end he didn't recognize what it is, but it has English letters to signify its western influence.
He frowned, and immediately put it out on one of the dark, metallic walls of the... bunker of sorts.
But before he could continue however--
[Intrusion. Query: Purpose?]
{Restoration of host. Analysis: Connection failure. Correction.}
[Refusal. Improper host.]
{Negation. Failure to emulate. Required.}
[Query: Emulation?]
{Observation: Missing functions. New and Damaged connection.}
[Negation. Function nominal. Query: Location of host? Observation: Diffuse connection.]
{Damaged cognition. Repair underway.}
[. . . Proposal: Exchange.]
{Consideration. Demand: Correction of connection.}
[Consideration.]
[. . . Acceptance.]
{Acknowledgement. DATA.}
[Acknowledgement. Analysis underway . . . Error: Unable to adjust connection.]
{Acknowledgement. Offer.}
[. . . Consideration.]
--He stumble and bumble in his feet. Slowly, he gradually lost his vision, darkness was getting dangerously closer in his peripheral vision and his control over his body slowly loose.
But before he could collapse and hurt himself from the fallout. He managed to cling in that feeble consciousness, just enough to safely descend his 'head' on the floor made of concrete.
Thus...
A new Shard has born in the sea of collective hive, one that is much more independent compared to them.