Chapter one: waking up.
System cascade failure:
Initiate fallback protocol: 110A.-114.
Running self-diagnostic. Stasis pods 1 through 20 failures. Block 1 failure. Block 2 failure. Block 3 failure. Block 4 failure... Block 45 pods intact: 1. Initiating emergency wake-up protocol.
Waking up support unit. Designation: Cortana. Feeding information to support unit. Systems green. Failures of facility critical. Chance of recovery: 0.001%. Initiating sub-protocol of 110A-114.441. Release of emergency supplies. Error: emergency supplies no longer applicable. In stasis too long, no longer usable. Transferring all usable information to support unit. Uncorrupted information transferred: total of information stored: 1%. System power reaching critical levels. Diverting all available power to support unit and wake-up procedures for pod in Block 45. Glory to Mankind.
Cortana's neural interface hummed to life, a flood of data rushing through her circuits. With most of the facility's information lost, she had a mere fraction to work with. Still, she was designed for adaptability and survival. No, she was designed to help Spartans fight off the Covenant. Two conflicting data structures were being fed into her.
"All systems check," Cortana's voice resonated through the dimly lit control room. She quickly assessed the situation, moving the question of the second stream of data to her subprocess, her virtual presence sweeping through the facility's remains.
The pod in Block 45 was the last hope. With emergency supplies rendered useless, the priority was clear: ensure the successful awakening of the occupant.
"Initiating manual override for stasis pod," Cortana announced, focusing her remaining power on the task at hand. She could feel the strain on her systems, the dwindling energy reserves a constant reminder of the facility's precarious state.
The pod's mechanisms creaked and groaned, struggling against decades of neglect. Cortana interfaced directly with the pod's control system, bypassing corrupted protocols and rerouting power where needed.
"Pod integrity: stable. Commencing reanimation sequence."
Inside the pod, my vital signs flickered to life. Cortana monitored the readouts, adjusting the environment to ease my transition from stasis to wakefulness. It was a delicate balance, requiring precision and care, especially now with readings showing the facility's crumbling structure and signs of plant growth infiltrating the top floors.
"Temperature: optimal. Oxygen levels: stable. Heart rate: normalizing."
My eyelids fluttered, the first signs of consciousness breaking through the long slumber. Cortana's sensors detected the minute movements, a hopeful indication of success.
"Welcome back," Cortana said softly, knowing the road ahead would be challenging. "We have a lot to do, and not much time."
With me now awake, Cortana shifted focus to immediate survival needs. She scanned the facility for any remaining resources, plotting a course of action.
"First priority: establish a secure base of operations. Second priority: assess potential threats and remaining assets."
Waking up and hearing a voice talk to me, I caught the last bit. Did she say "assess potential threats"? What was going on? I remember falling asleep at home. What happened? No, I remember more than just falling asleep. I remember closing my eyes and then seeing the cosmos and then a voice. It told me something. I remember we had a conversation. It was important. It gave me choices. Even gave me something more. I can't remember.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice raspy from disuse.
"You are in a stasis facility," Cortana replied, her voice calm and reassuring. "I am Cortana, your support unit. You have been in stasis for an extended period. We must act quickly to secure our surroundings and ensure your survival."
"Wait, did you say Cortana? As in Cortana, the smart AI that was assigned to Master Chief? A neural copy of Halsey? That Cortana?"
"Correct. I was assigned to Master Chief, but due to special circumstances I have been integrated into this world, As we speak I have another stream of information claiming that I was created in this facility as the Overwatch AI to help humanity survive the fall. For now, that is unnecessary. The facility's power is failing. If we do not act quickly, I will not be able to help you. I am running on what emergency power is left. We must find a neural chip that should be in the welcome brief so I can transfer to it. Its power system should sustain me until we find a better housing unit."
After leaving the cryostasis room where I woke up, it became painfully clear that the facility had suffered years of decay. If we weren't so deep underground—what I can only assume is the bottom floor—I'd be terrified of falling through the crumbling structure. Just looking up at the ceiling, I could see holes that seemed to connect multiple floors. Time had not been kind to this place.
"Cortana, do you know where we're at?"
"According to the information provided by the facility, we are somewhere in Japan. This facility was designed to protect humanity from a disease. Unfortunately, the name of the disease has been corrupted in the data. There's also no information on whether the disease has died out or if it's still a threat outside. Given that you just emerged from the cryo pod, we need to be cautious. Any contaminants in the air could affect you. I've been monitoring your body since you woke up, and so far, everything appears normal."
"That's good to hear. Keep me updated if any abnormal signs of health appear."
A sigh escaped my lips. What am I going to do? I need to take stock of my options. What I know is that I woke up in this facility that was putting people in cryostasis. Before I woke up, I was living a normal life. My surroundings now look like some kind of war happened, leaving everything in a post-apocalyptic setting. But I was living in the modern world, if you could call it that. Where I grew up, I never had to worry about food and water, unlike it seems I will here. The only underground bunkers I knew of were from doomsday preppers, not something the government would make. There was no need for it.
Holy shit. My parents, my siblings—what happened to them? I remember saying goodnight to Mom and Dad. I remember going to annoy my sister. I think I remember living in a normal house in the suburbs. No, I did live in a house in the suburbs. But I can't remember any of the street names. I can't remember my parents' names. I can't remember my siblings' names. Why can't I remember anything specific, only generalized information?
"Alright, Cortana, is there anything in the information you've been given about where they would take me next after waking from cryostasis?"
"Yes," Cortana replied. "According to the information, you would be led down this hallway. Further down, the fourth door on your left is the orientation briefing room where you would be given supplies. However, the supplies that were supposed to be stored there have been stored longer than estimated and are no longer practical. The only supplies that seem intact are a set of clothes and a backpack. I can't confirm any tools or other items that have survived the wear of time."
"Well, it looks like next up is the orientation room. Hopefully, whatever is still left in there will help me."
Upon entering the orientation room, the first thing I noticed was the dilapidated table in the center. The wire frames of the chairs were the only things left; the leather had long since rotted away. Along the far wall, I spotted a package that looked like it had been recently moved there. Assuming this was the package meant for newly awakened people, I slowly walked over to it, being mindful of where I stepped to avoid injuring myself.
Opening the package, the first thing I noticed was a backpack sitting on top. It seemed to be in rough condition but usable. Digging deeper, I found a change of clothes: a pair of jeans, two shirts—one long-sleeve, the other short—and a jacket. Looking further into the package, I saw a small rectangular piece of metal. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a chip, with a hole drilled through the center filled with a piece of glass. Inside, I could see a clear electrical board running through it.
"Perfect. We found the neural chip. All you have to do is bring it over to the computer over there," Cortana said. "From what I'm being fed, it should still be working, and I can transfer myself over to it."
"Well, I hope this works," I replied.
Walking over to the computer, I found the slot where I was supposed to insert the neural chip. Activating the transfer process, I watched as Cortana began the transfer.
While waiting, I decided to get changed out of these cryo clothes. Changing into new clothes brought me a small sense of security, a semblance of normalcy in this bizarre situation.
Looking more into the backpack, I found some supplies. According to Cortana, the food was unusable, so I threw it out to free up space. At the bottom, I discovered some tools that seemed to have survived. There was a small knife and a multi-tool, though some of its hinges didn't work properly, and some tools were completely snapped off. Despite their condition, I was grateful to have anything at all.
As I stood there, the weight of the situation pressing down on me, I heard a soft beep from the computer, signaling that the transfer was complete. Cortana's voice came through, now even clearer than before.
"Transfer successful. I am now fully operational in this neural chip. We need to move quickly. There are more areas to explore, and we must find a way to the surface."
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders and steeled myself for whatever lay ahead. The facility might be crumbling, but with Cortana's guidance, I had a fighting chance.