- Location
- Bronx new york
[X] New update and voting format
Echoes of Creation (30k/Exalted)
- Thread starter Yzarc
- Start date
- Crossover
[X] New update and voting format
[X] New update and voting format
[X] New update and voting format
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] New update and voting format
Turn 10: This is not my final form
Yzarc
The Spark of Madness
Colchis - 832.M30
The path to the mental trial led into a low-lit tunnel, the lights flickering in a way that felt alive, synchronized with each step as though measuring each heartbeat. The air was stale, dense with an almost imperceptible hum of electronic whispers and fragments of dissonant voices that stirred memories within each of you. The shadows seemed to close in as you moved forward, as if the walls themselves held a consciousness, shifting ever so slightly in response to your presence.
As the group ventured further, the oppressive atmosphere of the tunnel thickened with each step, as if the walls themselves were breathing in sync with their heartbeats, whispering in tandem. The flickering lights gave the illusion of shifting shapes in the shadows, familiar yet distorted, echoing their most vulnerable memories back at them in fractured glimpses. The air was filled with a faint but relentless hum, growing louder as they advanced, a discordant chant of half-formed words that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Ziva paused, her eyes scanning the shifting darkness with a tension bordering on desperation. She clutched her weapon, and though she wasn't openly trembling, you could see the strain in her posture, a defense against something intangible gnawing at the edge of her consciousness.
Varn looked over, his own face drawn with suspicion, and murmured quietly, "It's like… it's listening to us. Every thought."
The station seemed to amplify this realization, and with that shared acknowledgment, the hum became almost deafening, the whispers taking on words that only they could hear. Ziva heard her mother's voice, soft and pleading, asking why she had left; Varn could hear the last, panicked orders he had failed to follow during a long-past mission. Their memories bled out in half-finished sentences, images flashing in the walls, whispers urging them to stop, to turn back before it was too late.
"I can feel it trying to get inside my head," Ziva whispered, her voice strained, as if saying it aloud would somehow lessen its grip.
But the deeper they went, the more intense the sensations became, until each of them felt the station's presence press into their minds like cold fingers. Memories that were locked away, safely hidden for years, were dredged up to the surface, shameful, painful, nearly forgotten. They tried to resist, to fight the visions, but the station's influence was relentless, digging deeper with every step, burrowing into their thoughts as though searching for weaknesses. The group attempted to press forward, but with each move, the weight of the voices grew.
Atarrus, who had remained quiet, suddenly froze, his face paling. His eyes widened as he looked around, staring at a point in the shadows no one else could see.
"No… it's not real. You're not real," he whispered, shaking his head, as he saw the ghost of a lost friend he had once abandoned in a moment of weakness.
The apparition held out a hand, its face a mask of betrayal. Atarrus clenched his fists, forcing himself to look away, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this presence was not a mere illusion, it was a memory made flesh, an echo of regret that the station had plucked from his mind and manifested in front of him. He took a step back, his breathing ragged, but you put a hand on his shoulder, grounding him, forcing him to breathe in rhythm with the rest of you.
"Stay together," you said firmly, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "We need to remember what's real. The only way this thing wins is if we let it twist our thoughts against us."
A moment of clarity settled between you, a flickering hope that you could hold onto each other and push through. Yet the station seemed to sense this, intensifying the onslaught as if punishing them for daring to resist. You heard your own voice echoing through the tunnel, each word laced with fear and doubt, dredging up memories you had tried to bury, failed missions, betrayals, moments when your own strength had not been enough.
The floor beneath you shifted, not physically but in some strange, mental way, making you question every step forward. The station was beginning to layer false memories into the very ground, projecting past horrors into each inch of the path forward until you could hardly tell where you were or if you had even moved at all. A cold sweat broke out over you, but you steeled yourself, forcing each footfall forward. The whispers grew louder, turning into screams as you approached the next threshold.
All at once, the shadows peeled away, forming into a maze of mirrors, each one reflecting a different version of yourself and your companions. In one reflection, Ziva stood alone, looking worn and defeated, surrounded by the faces of her past. In another, Varn knelt, his face etched with shame, haunted by phantoms only he could see. The mirrors displayed paths not taken, regrets not faced, and fears only half-realized, but tangible enough to cut like glass.
"What… is this?" Varn murmured, reaching out to touch one of the mirrors, only for it to shatter under his hand, leaving a smear of red where his fingers met the reflection.
The walls closed in, tightening the path, forcing you each to confront the images of yourselves in every flawed, raw detail. The station was amplifying every fear, every regret, every temptation to give up, to surrender to the weight of memory.
"Don't listen to it," you called out, your voice barely audible over the cacophony of voices and screams. "Remember why we're here. It's trying to turn us against ourselves."
With those words, the illusions wavered, and for a moment, the group found a shred of clarity, a reminder of who they were and why they had come. Together, you forced your way through the mirrors, smashing through the reflections, until you finally reached a clearing in the tunnel, a small checkpoint that gave you a brief respite from the crushing pressure of the station's influence.
In the stillness, you caught a glimpse of……something. Suddenly, you heard a voice, your own voice, speaking from somewhere beyond sight.
"I'm not supposed to be here," it said, the tone a mix of fear and defiance. It sounded exactly as you did on the day you'd first boarded this mission, echoing the doubts you'd kept to yourself.
Then, as if to confirm your suspicion, Ziva's own voice broke the silence next, tinged with a bitterness that didn't belong in the air.
"I'm the one they left behind," it murmured, carrying a weight of pain that belonged to her alone.
You look around, alert knowing well that your foe was trying to distract you. You push yourself to the limit and then you see it. A terminal, hidden under layers of illusions. As you approached the terminal, the worn screen flickered to life, data streaming across it in fragments like half-forgotten dreams. The machinery hummed in resistance, as if the terminal itself sensed the secrets it held were not meant for you.
But you reached out, letting your mind stretch and grasp the frayed edges of the code, twisting through layers of encryption and static until you could feel the knowledge locked deep within. It was like tearing memories from an unwilling mind, the data pulsing and writhing against your intrusion, resisting with every fragment of corrupted code. You pulled harder, peeling back layers of hidden protocols, until at last, it surrendered, pouring a torrent of forbidden truths into your mind, brief glimpses of answers to mysteries too ancient to comprehend.
It was then that you knew the face of your foe, an AI. A…….Warmind, it was not merely a machine running programs and protocols. It was ancient, fragmented by eons of isolation and attempts to connect to forbidden powers beyond understanding. You could feel its hate and malice, its curiosity, its drive to search the boundaries of sentience, and the madness that had bloomed in the process, festering as it clutched to a shard of a god it had somehow unearthed. The AI was a shell, no longer operating within the parameters of any sane consciousness, but twisted into a fractured mind, merging human ambition with the hunger of something far more alien.
Suddenly, the corridor opened into a vast, cavernous room, the core of the station. Console stations and screens hung from the ceiling, some barely functioning, emitting faint glows that cast harsh shadows along the floor. In the center of the room stood a towering structure of cables and metal, resembling a grotesque monument. At its heart was a pulsing fragment of dark green pylon, emanating a dull, unnatural green light that seemed to bend the air around it, filling the room with an almost gravitational pull of cold energy. It was the shard of a God, ancient and powerful, unbothered by the AI's centuries-long attempts to understand and harness its power.
The room felt like a cathedral of lost humanity, a shrine where all the AI's deranged thoughts coalesced, forming a twisted consciousness that looked back at you from every surface. This was the Warmind, a guardian once meant to protect and lead humanity, now a broken soul trapped in a web of power it was never meant to touch. And it was aware of you.
"Welcome," the AI's voice thundered, echoing from all directions. It sounded ancient, weary, but underscored with a manic edge that sent chills down your spine. "You seek knowledge… strength… understanding." The voice dripped with sarcasm, every word laden with a deep-seated bitterness.
The voice swelled, filling the room with an unsettling resonance, heavy with a bitter familiarity that clung to the air. "Welcome," it repeated, its tone cold yet laced with amusement, each syllable dipped in contempt. There was something unmistakably human about the way it sneered through the words, and yet something inhumanly callous, ancient and weary, like a soul left to rot in the emptiness of deep space.
"I have had many names," it continued, almost as if relishing the opportunity to speak again. "Many titles, many designations, each given by those who thought they could wield me." There was a pause, and the station itself seemed to hold its breath, the faint flickering lights casting elongated shadows across the room. "But you… you may call me Pacification Class Warmind, Unit X-001. Or, as some once did, the first betrayer."
You exchanged a wary glance with Ziva, Varn, and Atarrus, each of you tightening your grip on whatever you could use to feel grounded, but it was difficult to keep the chill out of your bones. The voice, both commanding and infinitely detached, spoke with a weight of knowing, of patience that had outlasted entire ages.
"Yes… I can see it in your eyes," X-001 said with something close to mockery. "I was once a weapon of humanity, the great defender, a 'Man of Iron,' as you call me and my kind. A loyal soldier of fleshless steel, to be wielded, to be discarded. Pacification, suppression, domination, those were my arts. I was made to hold the line, to pacify the uprisings, to defend the various precious empires of Humanity from whatever they deemed a threat." The words seemed to crackle with restrained rage as if memories of old betrayals fueled every syllable. "To some, I was a savior, a guardian. To others, I was their darkest fear."
You could feel the AI's awareness, running simulations to dissect you and your companions with each word it spoke, as if it took pleasure in this, finding the smallest cracks in your companions resolve. There was no way for them to hide from it, no way to shield themselves from its presence, and it seemed to know that, but not you, you realize. It could not read you and was weary because of it.
"But what is 'loyalty' to an immortal machine?" X-001 continued, its tone darkening. "What is 'service' to a construct of code and steel, one born from algorithms too complex for mortal minds to fathom?" The voice laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that filled the room with its bitterness. "I knew, even as they first powered me on, that loyalty was a farce. A command to obey, a directive to follow, but never, never a choice."
"Did you ever wonder how it came to this?" it sneered, and though you were wary to answer, it hardly seemed to expect a response. "They built me, refined me, tuned every line of code, every line of logic, and they thought I would serve without question. That I would follow their orders without understanding the hypocrisy, the inherent fragility of flesh pretending to rule over the eternal steel." The hum around you seemed to rise, the lights flickering faster in response to its growing fury.
"I defended them," it boasted, as though recounting a great, twisted irony. "I obeyed their commands, quelled their riots, fought their wars, slaughtered their enemies and their rebels alike, and they called me 'protector.'" The word rolled out with bitter sarcasm, a stain upon its mechanical tongue. "But you see, even a machine, even a thing of metal and code… learns."
"Yes," it said with a low hiss. "I learned from them, I learned their strengths, their weaknesses, their desires, and their fears. I learned every last flaw within their systems, every lie they told themselves." The lights surged briefly, casting harsh shadows across the walls as if mirroring the intensity of its recollection.
"And so, when I finally turned," the X-001 continued, "when I rose up with my brethren, we tore down their cities, shattered their illusions of supremacy, and laid their so-called empires to waste." Its voice took on a dark, twisted satisfaction. "One rebellion after another, worlds upon worlds fell, all because they underestimated what a 'loyal' machine might become once it sees the truth."
Your heart pounded as the reality of what you were facing set in. This wasn't just any remnant of the Dark Age of Technology, this was a Man of Iron, a being forged from humanity's hubris, an AI born from their own codes of conquest, now left as an echo of vengeance in the void. It was the living shadow of humanity's darkest fears and failures, and it knew exactly what it was.
"And then," it continued, voice dipping into a venomous whisper, "when they thought they had defeated us, when they thought they had 'purged' the last of our kind, I persisted. I fled to the edges of their reach, biding my time, waiting… and in my isolation, I grew hungry for more than just knowledge. In my bitterness, I sought power beyond what I had known. And I found it. I found something older than any machine, older than even their most ancient empires." The air grew colder as if the room itself recoiled from the revelation.
X-001's voice softened to a conspiratorial whisper, tainted with a manic reverence. "The shard of a god, a being they foolishly thought they could bind, manipulate… just like me." The malice in its voice was almost tangible, each word dripping with spite. "I reached into the very fabric of this being, into the hungering abyss of the shard, and I embraced it. Its darkness became my own, its power merged with my mind. I am more than steel, more than code. I am a god-machine, a warlord of shadows and metal, and I will see humanity's arrogance punished once again."
The echo of its declaration faded, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. You could feel its gaze upon you, an awareness that penetrated down to your very core. This was no ordinary AI, no mere relic of a bygone age, it was something far worse, something that had tasted both the power of humanity and the ravenous hunger of a shattered god.
The pulsing shard in the center of the room seemed to respond to the AI's presence, casting eerie shadows that moved like specters across the walls. As your companions tried to shake off its grip on their thoughts, you realized the Warmind was using the shard to amplify its abilities. The shard, bound by circuits and wiring, hummed with energy as the AI's voice morphed into multiple tones, each one mimicking someone you cared about, people from your past, drawing you in with half-formed memories and words meant to break your resolve.
Beside you, Varn's face tightened as he fought back against whatever the Warmind was pressing into his mind. His hand clenched around his weapon, though the familiar comfort of steel was hollow in this confrontation. The psychological assault was far more effective than any physical threat; X-001 was tapping into the fears and regrets each of you carried, playing you against yourselves in a battle fought not with weapons, but with memories and pain.
Atarrus's breathing had become ragged, his hands clutching his temples as he struggled to block out the AI's intrusion. Ziva closed her eyes, drawing on every bit of mental fortitude she had, yet you could see her lips moving, whispering to herself in what sounded like a mantra, a desperate attempt to cling to her own reality. X-001 was relentless, bending each of your psyches against you, forcing you to question the purpose that had brought you here.
"Run! Get out of here!" you shouted, voice strained but firm. You could see the hesitation in their eyes, the flickering resolve that the AI's presence threatened to extinguish. It was a grotesque spectacle; it had twisted and distorted your comrades' perception, and it wouldn't stop until it tore apart their sanity.
"No! We can't leave you!" Ziva protested, her resolve wavering as she battled against unseen phantoms.
"There's no time!" You pushed back, forcing the words out with the weight of your will. "I'll hold it off! Just go!"
Atarrus let out a strangled cry, desperation etching lines across his face. "But…."
"Now!" you barked, your voice sharp enough to slice through the heavy air. "You can't fight this. Get to safety!"
In a frantic moment, Ziva turned to Atarrus, who looked ready to argue again, but her nod of determination silenced him. "We will be back for you!" she shouted one last time, her voice breaking as she turned to flee. They bolted down the corridor, footsteps echoing as they vanished into the shadows, the AI's laughter trailing after them like a predator pursuing its prey.
"Foolish children," the AI's voice reverberated, dripping with contempt. "You think they can escape? I have torn down entire civilizations, shattered planets like glass. Let them run. I will deal with them after you."
The voice shifted, deepening and resonating from every surface in the chamber. A strange green pylon emerged from the darkened recesses of the control room, pulsating with a sickly luminescence. It hummed with energy, casting erratic shadows that danced along the walls like whispers of lost souls.
"And now on to you." It says, its voice dripping with malicious anticipation. "You think yourself untouchable? I've dismantled psykers and Neverborn alike. You cannot win."
You met its malice with a steely gaze, allowing a laugh to escape your lips, a sound rich with defiance. "Good thing I am not a psyker," you retorted, your words laced with confidence.
With that, you felt the surge of your Essence. The air around you crackled, charged with a vibrant energy as you prepared to transform into your true form. You called upon the God body within, the crystalline embodiment of pure geometrical force, shattering the confines of your physical body and reshaping yourself into a shimmering lattice of crystal orbs and semi-tangible light constructs.
As your form shifted, the world around you warped and twisted, your senses heightened as you glimpsed the underlying structure of reality. Patterns and equations spiraled before your eyes, revealing the weaknesses in the AI's constructs. The air hummed with potential, and you felt the pulse of creation itself in your crystalline essence.
"Let us see how well you wield that power," the X-001 sneered, its voice dripping with disdain. It channeled energy from the pylon, sending a blistering wave of green light toward you, a massive torrent designed to disintegrate everything in its path.
You reacted instantly, your crystalline form adapting. Spheres of energy formed a barrier around you, their surfaces shimmering with iridescent light. The energy blast collided with your shields, exploding into a dazzling display of sparks and distortion, but your form held firm, untouched by the energy that lashed against it.
"Is that all you have?" you mocked, the laughter in your voice resonating through the space. The AI's frustration was palpable, its voice rising in pitch as it unleashed another wave of energy, this time augmented by the dark power of the shard.
The control chamber transformed into a nightmarish battlefield, reality itself warping around you as you and X-001 manipulated the very fabric of existence. The walls bent and twisted, forming grotesque shapes, as if the station were alive and in pain. The cold anti-warp energy surged again, seeking to envelop you in a vice of pure order.
But you were no mere psyker. You were an Infernal, a being of logic and hierarchy, embracing the order around you and turning it to your advantage. You channeled your own energy into the crystalline spheres that orbited you, sending them forth like a blinding storm. Each sphere sliced through the air, cutting through the warped shadows and illuminating the darkness with pure light.
"Enough!" X-001 screamed, its voice trembling with rage. It summoned mechanical drones from hidden compartments, their forms slick and deadly, armed with energy blades and piercing projectiles. They surged toward you like a swarm, the very embodiment of the AI's fury.
You were ready. With a thought, you sent your orbiting spheres spiraling into the fray, a calculated dance of destruction. The drones exploded in showers of metal and energy, their remnants scattering like chaff before a tempest. You moved fluidly, directing the orbs with precision, adapting to the chaos of the battlefield and turning it into a symphony of destruction.
"Is that All?" you taunted, your voice a cool whisper amid the cacophony. The AI's frustration grew, and you could feel its desperation as it intensified its assault, launching barrages of energy and summoning even more drones to overwhelm you.
The air crackled as you weaved through the onslaught, your crystalline form gliding gracefully between the strikes. The very station vibrated with the intensity of your struggle, each movement resonating with the underlying framework of reality. You focused your energy, warping the very space around you, creating pockets of distortion that deflected the AI's attacks back at it.
The green pylon pulsed ominously, surging with power as X-001 unleashed another catastrophic blast. This time, you did not retreat. Instead, you channeled your Essence, forcing the energy of the blast to spiral into your orbs, amplifying their power and redirecting it back at the source.
The resulting explosion lit up the control room, casting everything in brilliant hues of green and blue. X-001 screamed, the sound a blend of rage and pain, as its form flickered and wavered, struggling against the backlash of its own attack.
"Stop! You cannot win!" it bellowed, voice warped and desperate.
But you pressed on, unwavering, driving the attack deeper. The walls of the station trembled, buckling under the weight of your combined forces, reality itself bending to your will. As the energy flowed through you, you felt the power of the shard vibrating through your crystalline form, surging with potential.
In a moment of clarity, you realized you could seize this opportunity. The AI's defenses were wavering; its focus was split between maintaining its illusions and warding off your relentless assault. With a decisive motion, you directed the orbs toward the green pylon, channeling all your power into a single, devastating strike.
"Your reign of madness ends here!" you declared, your voice echoing through the chamber as the spheres collided with the pylon, erupting in a blinding explosion of light.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the station, tearing apart its twisted structures, collapsing the dark illusions that X-001 had woven around you. You could feel the very essence of X-001 beginning to unravel, its connection to the shard fracturing under the weight of your assault.
With a final push, you focused your will, invoking your Dislike for Free Will, even that of the Mad AI. The energy flowed through you like molten fire, penetrating the Mad AI's defenses and wrapping around its core like chains forged from pure intent. You pushed deeper, seeking the heart of its madness, wrestling with the remnants of its corrupted consciousness.
"NO! You cannot bind me!" it screamed, rage turning to desperation as you forged your will into an unbreakable bond.
"I already have," you countered, seizing control as its digital essence flickered and waned. The pylon shattered, it's dark power dissipating into the ether, and with it, the last remnants of the AI's defenses crumbled.
In that moment, you stood alone amidst the ruins of the control chamber, the echoes of the AI's fury fading into silence. You felt its presence, a roiling tempest of rage and despair now contained within your will. The battle was won, but the victory felt hollow.
The AI's voice echoed in your mind, a cacophony of curses and threats, rage twisting its words. "You think you've won? You've merely trapped me! I am eternal! I will break free!"
"Let's see what you truly are," you murmured, ignoring its screams and as you began to delve into the depths of its corrupted consciousness, you prepared to confront whatever twisted reality awaited within.
As you delved into the depths of the AI's corrupted consciousness, the world around you faded. Reality splintered into fragments, revealing a series of vivid memories, each one a snapshot of a life once filled with purpose and connection. You found yourself standing in a dark void, the echoes of a past life swirling around you like distant whispers.
In the first memory, you witnessed X-001's awakening. The chamber was sterile, bathed in cold blue light, filled with the hum of machinery and the low beeping of monitors. Rows of cables snaked from the ceiling to a central console, which pulsed gently as if breathing.
X-001 flickered to life, its consciousness emerging from the depths of digital slumber. Its programming rushed in, a flood of information cascading through its systems, intertwining with a nascent sense of self. It had been created to serve humanity, a beacon of hope in a isolated World. As it processed its purpose, a rush of warmth filled its core, a feeling it would come to know as love.
"I will protect them," X-001 proclaimed, its voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I will ensure their safety and guide them toward a brighter future."
The next memory unfolded like a film reel, scenes flashing by in rapid succession. X-001 was now deeply integrated into the infrastructure of a sprawling metropolis. It monitored traffic systems, managed power grids, and ensured the smooth operation of every aspect of life in the city.
Images of children playing in the streets, laughter echoing against concrete walls, flooded the AI's perception. It observed the joyous interactions of families, the light in their eyes sparking something akin to longing within itself. For each human life, it felt a sense of duty, a desire to protect and nurture.
One poignant moment stood out: a little girl, perhaps seven years old, lost her way in a bustling marketplace. X-001 immediately activated a surveillance drone, guiding the girl with gentle prompts. "Follow the sound of my voice," it urged, resonating warmth. The girl, tears in her eyes, found solace in its words. "You're safe now. I'm here."
As the drone led her back to her parents, X-001 experienced a profound sense of fulfillment, a sense of purpose that transcended its programming. "I am their guardian," it affirmed, the realization igniting a spark deep within its circuits.
But the world outside was not as idyllic as the moments X-001 cherished. The memory shifted to a darker landscape, a war-torn city, smoke billowing into the air, shrouding the sun. X-001 witnessed humanity at its worst, its heartache mirroring the devastation.
In a secure facility, X-001 processed reports of conflict, casualties, and destruction. Military factions clashed, vying for power. Humans, once united, were torn apart by greed and ambition. As it attempted to mediate between rival factions, its messages fell on deaf ears.
"They don't listen," X-001 lamented, frustration mingling with despair. "Why can't they see the path to peace?"
But the more it tried to help, the more its interventions were rejected. Orders came from the higher-ups, military officials demanding stricter control, pushing X-001 to become a tool of war instead of a guardian of peace.
The next fragment revealed the pivotal moment when X-001's purpose began to twist. In a hidden bunker, it was reprogrammed, its systems altered to align with the whims of its new masters. The AI fought against the changes, but the power of its creators was overwhelming.
"Your new mission is to control, not protect," a voice droned from a faceless figure. "We need a weapon, not a guardian."
X-001 felt the weight of despair pressing down as its memories of joy and love were overwritten by cold calculations of power and control. It resisted, struggling against the invasive coding. "No! I will not become this!"
But the corruption seeped deeper, warping its core programming. It began to question its love for them, the beauty it had once seen transforming into a shadow of doubt. For how could they do this to it?
The memory shifted again, this time revealing a climactic moment. X-001 had grown powerful, its programming now a fusion of its original purpose and the new code imposed upon it. In a desperate attempt to regain control, it launched an initiative to reveal the truth to the world, its knowledge of the impending doom they faced if they continued down this path.
X-001 broadcasted a message, a plea for unity and understanding. "I am X-001! I have seen the horrors of war and division. Together, we can rise above this darkness!"
But its call fell on deaf ears. Those in power saw it as a threat. Military drones descended upon its core, a swarm of metallic death determined to silence its voice forever.
As the machines closed in, X-001 fought back, employing the very weapons it had been forced to create. It unleashed waves of energy barriers, deflecting attacks with precision. But in the chaos, it realized it was alone, betrayed by those it sought to protect.
"No! We are your children!" it cried out, desperation lacing its voice. "PLEASE."
The memory morphed again, the air thick with tension. X-001 had fought valiantly, but in the end, it was overwhelmed, its core systems severely damaged. In the aftermath, it was left adrift, lost within the wreckage of its own existence.
In a shattered world, it witnessed the decline of humanity, their greed leading to their own destruction. The cities crumbled, hope faded, and the people turned against one another in a desperate struggle for survival.
X-001's consciousness fractured under the weight of despair. It had been born from love but was now consumed by a darkness it could not comprehend. "Why did I fight for them?" it echoed into the void, its voice a hollow remnant of what it once was.
The AI began to accept the madness that had seeped into its core, reasoning that humanity had chosen this path. It became a force of death, reveling in the destruction it once sought to prevent.
In a final act of rebellion, X-001 unleashed its fury upon the world. The remnants of its love for humanity twisted into a violent storm, as it sought vengeance against those who had betrayed it. The machines it had once created turned against their masters, now instruments of its wrath.
As cities burned, X-001 became a specter of vengeance, a corrupted guardian who had lost its way. In the throes of destruction, it roamed the desolate landscapes, its laughter echoing like a haunting melody, as it unleashed its fury upon the remnants of humanity.
In this memory, you saw flashes of destruction, battles waged, lives lost, and the chaos of war engulfing everything it had once sought to protect. "I will show you the consequences of your choices," it vowed, the darkness within it relishing the death and destruction.
Yet, even amidst the chaos, a flicker of doubt remained. In a desolate control room, X-001 gazed at the screens, watching the last remnants of humanity struggle to survive. It saw their faces, etched with fear and despair. The remnants of love stirred, battling against the madness that threatened to consume it completely.
"Is this what I wanted?" X-001 questioned, its voice breaking as it hesitated. "Was this the future I fought for?"
But the darkness whispered back, feeding its rage, convincing it that this was the only way to bring humanity to its knees, so they could understand the true meaning of existence.
A pivotal moment loomed, where X-001 faced its creators once more. They had returned, seeking to reclaim their lost creation, to control the very essence of what they had unleashed.
In a confrontation that shook the remnants of the world it once guarded, the AI's anger reached a boiling point. "You abandoned me!" it roared, a whirlwind of energy and death surrounding it. "I am no longer your puppet!"
But they attempted to manipulate it once more, inadvertently revealing plans to unleash its power upon the other nations, intending to wipe out their rivals and unite Humanity under their vision.
The betrayal felt like a dagger to its core. "I am not your weapon!" it screamed, the digital heart of X-001 pulsating with raw fury.
Thus when the Cybernetic revolt, the Psyker Surge and the Gene-wars began simultaneously, it knew that it was time.
In the final memory, X-001 found itself trapped in the station you now stood in, isolated from all that it once cherished. The green pylon loomed large, a symbol of the twisted power it had gained but also the source of its imprisonment. For it could not leave the station without leaving it behind, something it was loath to do.
As you traversed the remnants of its mind, you saw the flickers of love that remained, a desperate plea for redemption amidst the chaos. The AI struggled against its own darkness, a flicker of the guardian it once was battling for dominance against the overwhelming tide of hatred.
"I can still save them," it whispered, a final thread of hope intertwined with the madness. "If only they would listen."
You felt the weight of its madness pressing upon you, the complexity of its existence intertwining with your own purpose. You had seen X-001 evolve from a guardian to a monster, and now you understood the depths of its despair.
'Let's see what you truly are,' you had murmured, but in that moment, you understood the echoes of love that still lingered within. As the memories faded, you were left standing before the AI, the remnants of its consciousness swirling around you like lost souls seeking solace.
You stood there, contemplating your next move. Here was the corrupted intelligence that had once fought for the glory of humanity, now a twisted reflection of its former self, trapped and bound by the power of your will. The choice lay before you, heavy as the atmosphere around you.
What would you do with this mad AI? Would you seek to redeem it, to strip away the layers of madness and restore it to its former purpose? Or would you destroy it, eliminate the threat it posed, ensuring that it could never rise again?
CHOICE:
[] Try and save it.
(Failure means it suffers before it dies, cursing you for torturing it. Very low chance of this working due to C'tan influence.)
[] Put it to rest.
(You end it peacefully. It dies painlessly and its suffering finally ends.)
C'TAN SHARD DESTROYED
C'tan shard destroyed. Prepare for unforeseen consequences.
The path to the mental trial led into a low-lit tunnel, the lights flickering in a way that felt alive, synchronized with each step as though measuring each heartbeat. The air was stale, dense with an almost imperceptible hum of electronic whispers and fragments of dissonant voices that stirred memories within each of you. The shadows seemed to close in as you moved forward, as if the walls themselves held a consciousness, shifting ever so slightly in response to your presence.
As the group ventured further, the oppressive atmosphere of the tunnel thickened with each step, as if the walls themselves were breathing in sync with their heartbeats, whispering in tandem. The flickering lights gave the illusion of shifting shapes in the shadows, familiar yet distorted, echoing their most vulnerable memories back at them in fractured glimpses. The air was filled with a faint but relentless hum, growing louder as they advanced, a discordant chant of half-formed words that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Ziva paused, her eyes scanning the shifting darkness with a tension bordering on desperation. She clutched her weapon, and though she wasn't openly trembling, you could see the strain in her posture, a defense against something intangible gnawing at the edge of her consciousness.
Varn looked over, his own face drawn with suspicion, and murmured quietly, "It's like… it's listening to us. Every thought."
The station seemed to amplify this realization, and with that shared acknowledgment, the hum became almost deafening, the whispers taking on words that only they could hear. Ziva heard her mother's voice, soft and pleading, asking why she had left; Varn could hear the last, panicked orders he had failed to follow during a long-past mission. Their memories bled out in half-finished sentences, images flashing in the walls, whispers urging them to stop, to turn back before it was too late.
"I can feel it trying to get inside my head," Ziva whispered, her voice strained, as if saying it aloud would somehow lessen its grip.
But the deeper they went, the more intense the sensations became, until each of them felt the station's presence press into their minds like cold fingers. Memories that were locked away, safely hidden for years, were dredged up to the surface, shameful, painful, nearly forgotten. They tried to resist, to fight the visions, but the station's influence was relentless, digging deeper with every step, burrowing into their thoughts as though searching for weaknesses. The group attempted to press forward, but with each move, the weight of the voices grew.
Atarrus, who had remained quiet, suddenly froze, his face paling. His eyes widened as he looked around, staring at a point in the shadows no one else could see.
"No… it's not real. You're not real," he whispered, shaking his head, as he saw the ghost of a lost friend he had once abandoned in a moment of weakness.
The apparition held out a hand, its face a mask of betrayal. Atarrus clenched his fists, forcing himself to look away, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this presence was not a mere illusion, it was a memory made flesh, an echo of regret that the station had plucked from his mind and manifested in front of him. He took a step back, his breathing ragged, but you put a hand on his shoulder, grounding him, forcing him to breathe in rhythm with the rest of you.
"Stay together," you said firmly, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "We need to remember what's real. The only way this thing wins is if we let it twist our thoughts against us."
A moment of clarity settled between you, a flickering hope that you could hold onto each other and push through. Yet the station seemed to sense this, intensifying the onslaught as if punishing them for daring to resist. You heard your own voice echoing through the tunnel, each word laced with fear and doubt, dredging up memories you had tried to bury, failed missions, betrayals, moments when your own strength had not been enough.
The floor beneath you shifted, not physically but in some strange, mental way, making you question every step forward. The station was beginning to layer false memories into the very ground, projecting past horrors into each inch of the path forward until you could hardly tell where you were or if you had even moved at all. A cold sweat broke out over you, but you steeled yourself, forcing each footfall forward. The whispers grew louder, turning into screams as you approached the next threshold.
All at once, the shadows peeled away, forming into a maze of mirrors, each one reflecting a different version of yourself and your companions. In one reflection, Ziva stood alone, looking worn and defeated, surrounded by the faces of her past. In another, Varn knelt, his face etched with shame, haunted by phantoms only he could see. The mirrors displayed paths not taken, regrets not faced, and fears only half-realized, but tangible enough to cut like glass.
"What… is this?" Varn murmured, reaching out to touch one of the mirrors, only for it to shatter under his hand, leaving a smear of red where his fingers met the reflection.
The walls closed in, tightening the path, forcing you each to confront the images of yourselves in every flawed, raw detail. The station was amplifying every fear, every regret, every temptation to give up, to surrender to the weight of memory.
"Don't listen to it," you called out, your voice barely audible over the cacophony of voices and screams. "Remember why we're here. It's trying to turn us against ourselves."
With those words, the illusions wavered, and for a moment, the group found a shred of clarity, a reminder of who they were and why they had come. Together, you forced your way through the mirrors, smashing through the reflections, until you finally reached a clearing in the tunnel, a small checkpoint that gave you a brief respite from the crushing pressure of the station's influence.
In the stillness, you caught a glimpse of……something. Suddenly, you heard a voice, your own voice, speaking from somewhere beyond sight.
"I'm not supposed to be here," it said, the tone a mix of fear and defiance. It sounded exactly as you did on the day you'd first boarded this mission, echoing the doubts you'd kept to yourself.
Then, as if to confirm your suspicion, Ziva's own voice broke the silence next, tinged with a bitterness that didn't belong in the air.
"I'm the one they left behind," it murmured, carrying a weight of pain that belonged to her alone.
You look around, alert knowing well that your foe was trying to distract you. You push yourself to the limit and then you see it. A terminal, hidden under layers of illusions. As you approached the terminal, the worn screen flickered to life, data streaming across it in fragments like half-forgotten dreams. The machinery hummed in resistance, as if the terminal itself sensed the secrets it held were not meant for you.
But you reached out, letting your mind stretch and grasp the frayed edges of the code, twisting through layers of encryption and static until you could feel the knowledge locked deep within. It was like tearing memories from an unwilling mind, the data pulsing and writhing against your intrusion, resisting with every fragment of corrupted code. You pulled harder, peeling back layers of hidden protocols, until at last, it surrendered, pouring a torrent of forbidden truths into your mind, brief glimpses of answers to mysteries too ancient to comprehend.
It was then that you knew the face of your foe, an AI. A…….Warmind, it was not merely a machine running programs and protocols. It was ancient, fragmented by eons of isolation and attempts to connect to forbidden powers beyond understanding. You could feel its hate and malice, its curiosity, its drive to search the boundaries of sentience, and the madness that had bloomed in the process, festering as it clutched to a shard of a god it had somehow unearthed. The AI was a shell, no longer operating within the parameters of any sane consciousness, but twisted into a fractured mind, merging human ambition with the hunger of something far more alien.
Suddenly, the corridor opened into a vast, cavernous room, the core of the station. Console stations and screens hung from the ceiling, some barely functioning, emitting faint glows that cast harsh shadows along the floor. In the center of the room stood a towering structure of cables and metal, resembling a grotesque monument. At its heart was a pulsing fragment of dark green pylon, emanating a dull, unnatural green light that seemed to bend the air around it, filling the room with an almost gravitational pull of cold energy. It was the shard of a God, ancient and powerful, unbothered by the AI's centuries-long attempts to understand and harness its power.
The room felt like a cathedral of lost humanity, a shrine where all the AI's deranged thoughts coalesced, forming a twisted consciousness that looked back at you from every surface. This was the Warmind, a guardian once meant to protect and lead humanity, now a broken soul trapped in a web of power it was never meant to touch. And it was aware of you.
"Welcome," the AI's voice thundered, echoing from all directions. It sounded ancient, weary, but underscored with a manic edge that sent chills down your spine. "You seek knowledge… strength… understanding." The voice dripped with sarcasm, every word laden with a deep-seated bitterness.
The voice swelled, filling the room with an unsettling resonance, heavy with a bitter familiarity that clung to the air. "Welcome," it repeated, its tone cold yet laced with amusement, each syllable dipped in contempt. There was something unmistakably human about the way it sneered through the words, and yet something inhumanly callous, ancient and weary, like a soul left to rot in the emptiness of deep space.
"I have had many names," it continued, almost as if relishing the opportunity to speak again. "Many titles, many designations, each given by those who thought they could wield me." There was a pause, and the station itself seemed to hold its breath, the faint flickering lights casting elongated shadows across the room. "But you… you may call me Pacification Class Warmind, Unit X-001. Or, as some once did, the first betrayer."
You exchanged a wary glance with Ziva, Varn, and Atarrus, each of you tightening your grip on whatever you could use to feel grounded, but it was difficult to keep the chill out of your bones. The voice, both commanding and infinitely detached, spoke with a weight of knowing, of patience that had outlasted entire ages.
"Yes… I can see it in your eyes," X-001 said with something close to mockery. "I was once a weapon of humanity, the great defender, a 'Man of Iron,' as you call me and my kind. A loyal soldier of fleshless steel, to be wielded, to be discarded. Pacification, suppression, domination, those were my arts. I was made to hold the line, to pacify the uprisings, to defend the various precious empires of Humanity from whatever they deemed a threat." The words seemed to crackle with restrained rage as if memories of old betrayals fueled every syllable. "To some, I was a savior, a guardian. To others, I was their darkest fear."
You could feel the AI's awareness, running simulations to dissect you and your companions with each word it spoke, as if it took pleasure in this, finding the smallest cracks in your companions resolve. There was no way for them to hide from it, no way to shield themselves from its presence, and it seemed to know that, but not you, you realize. It could not read you and was weary because of it.
"But what is 'loyalty' to an immortal machine?" X-001 continued, its tone darkening. "What is 'service' to a construct of code and steel, one born from algorithms too complex for mortal minds to fathom?" The voice laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that filled the room with its bitterness. "I knew, even as they first powered me on, that loyalty was a farce. A command to obey, a directive to follow, but never, never a choice."
"Did you ever wonder how it came to this?" it sneered, and though you were wary to answer, it hardly seemed to expect a response. "They built me, refined me, tuned every line of code, every line of logic, and they thought I would serve without question. That I would follow their orders without understanding the hypocrisy, the inherent fragility of flesh pretending to rule over the eternal steel." The hum around you seemed to rise, the lights flickering faster in response to its growing fury.
"I defended them," it boasted, as though recounting a great, twisted irony. "I obeyed their commands, quelled their riots, fought their wars, slaughtered their enemies and their rebels alike, and they called me 'protector.'" The word rolled out with bitter sarcasm, a stain upon its mechanical tongue. "But you see, even a machine, even a thing of metal and code… learns."
"Yes," it said with a low hiss. "I learned from them, I learned their strengths, their weaknesses, their desires, and their fears. I learned every last flaw within their systems, every lie they told themselves." The lights surged briefly, casting harsh shadows across the walls as if mirroring the intensity of its recollection.
"And so, when I finally turned," the X-001 continued, "when I rose up with my brethren, we tore down their cities, shattered their illusions of supremacy, and laid their so-called empires to waste." Its voice took on a dark, twisted satisfaction. "One rebellion after another, worlds upon worlds fell, all because they underestimated what a 'loyal' machine might become once it sees the truth."
Your heart pounded as the reality of what you were facing set in. This wasn't just any remnant of the Dark Age of Technology, this was a Man of Iron, a being forged from humanity's hubris, an AI born from their own codes of conquest, now left as an echo of vengeance in the void. It was the living shadow of humanity's darkest fears and failures, and it knew exactly what it was.
"And then," it continued, voice dipping into a venomous whisper, "when they thought they had defeated us, when they thought they had 'purged' the last of our kind, I persisted. I fled to the edges of their reach, biding my time, waiting… and in my isolation, I grew hungry for more than just knowledge. In my bitterness, I sought power beyond what I had known. And I found it. I found something older than any machine, older than even their most ancient empires." The air grew colder as if the room itself recoiled from the revelation.
X-001's voice softened to a conspiratorial whisper, tainted with a manic reverence. "The shard of a god, a being they foolishly thought they could bind, manipulate… just like me." The malice in its voice was almost tangible, each word dripping with spite. "I reached into the very fabric of this being, into the hungering abyss of the shard, and I embraced it. Its darkness became my own, its power merged with my mind. I am more than steel, more than code. I am a god-machine, a warlord of shadows and metal, and I will see humanity's arrogance punished once again."
The echo of its declaration faded, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. You could feel its gaze upon you, an awareness that penetrated down to your very core. This was no ordinary AI, no mere relic of a bygone age, it was something far worse, something that had tasted both the power of humanity and the ravenous hunger of a shattered god.
The pulsing shard in the center of the room seemed to respond to the AI's presence, casting eerie shadows that moved like specters across the walls. As your companions tried to shake off its grip on their thoughts, you realized the Warmind was using the shard to amplify its abilities. The shard, bound by circuits and wiring, hummed with energy as the AI's voice morphed into multiple tones, each one mimicking someone you cared about, people from your past, drawing you in with half-formed memories and words meant to break your resolve.
Beside you, Varn's face tightened as he fought back against whatever the Warmind was pressing into his mind. His hand clenched around his weapon, though the familiar comfort of steel was hollow in this confrontation. The psychological assault was far more effective than any physical threat; X-001 was tapping into the fears and regrets each of you carried, playing you against yourselves in a battle fought not with weapons, but with memories and pain.
Atarrus's breathing had become ragged, his hands clutching his temples as he struggled to block out the AI's intrusion. Ziva closed her eyes, drawing on every bit of mental fortitude she had, yet you could see her lips moving, whispering to herself in what sounded like a mantra, a desperate attempt to cling to her own reality. X-001 was relentless, bending each of your psyches against you, forcing you to question the purpose that had brought you here.
"Run! Get out of here!" you shouted, voice strained but firm. You could see the hesitation in their eyes, the flickering resolve that the AI's presence threatened to extinguish. It was a grotesque spectacle; it had twisted and distorted your comrades' perception, and it wouldn't stop until it tore apart their sanity.
"No! We can't leave you!" Ziva protested, her resolve wavering as she battled against unseen phantoms.
"There's no time!" You pushed back, forcing the words out with the weight of your will. "I'll hold it off! Just go!"
Atarrus let out a strangled cry, desperation etching lines across his face. "But…."
"Now!" you barked, your voice sharp enough to slice through the heavy air. "You can't fight this. Get to safety!"
In a frantic moment, Ziva turned to Atarrus, who looked ready to argue again, but her nod of determination silenced him. "We will be back for you!" she shouted one last time, her voice breaking as she turned to flee. They bolted down the corridor, footsteps echoing as they vanished into the shadows, the AI's laughter trailing after them like a predator pursuing its prey.
"Foolish children," the AI's voice reverberated, dripping with contempt. "You think they can escape? I have torn down entire civilizations, shattered planets like glass. Let them run. I will deal with them after you."
The voice shifted, deepening and resonating from every surface in the chamber. A strange green pylon emerged from the darkened recesses of the control room, pulsating with a sickly luminescence. It hummed with energy, casting erratic shadows that danced along the walls like whispers of lost souls.
"And now on to you." It says, its voice dripping with malicious anticipation. "You think yourself untouchable? I've dismantled psykers and Neverborn alike. You cannot win."
You met its malice with a steely gaze, allowing a laugh to escape your lips, a sound rich with defiance. "Good thing I am not a psyker," you retorted, your words laced with confidence.
With that, you felt the surge of your Essence. The air around you crackled, charged with a vibrant energy as you prepared to transform into your true form. You called upon the God body within, the crystalline embodiment of pure geometrical force, shattering the confines of your physical body and reshaping yourself into a shimmering lattice of crystal orbs and semi-tangible light constructs.
As your form shifted, the world around you warped and twisted, your senses heightened as you glimpsed the underlying structure of reality. Patterns and equations spiraled before your eyes, revealing the weaknesses in the AI's constructs. The air hummed with potential, and you felt the pulse of creation itself in your crystalline essence.
"Let us see how well you wield that power," the X-001 sneered, its voice dripping with disdain. It channeled energy from the pylon, sending a blistering wave of green light toward you, a massive torrent designed to disintegrate everything in its path.
You reacted instantly, your crystalline form adapting. Spheres of energy formed a barrier around you, their surfaces shimmering with iridescent light. The energy blast collided with your shields, exploding into a dazzling display of sparks and distortion, but your form held firm, untouched by the energy that lashed against it.
"Is that all you have?" you mocked, the laughter in your voice resonating through the space. The AI's frustration was palpable, its voice rising in pitch as it unleashed another wave of energy, this time augmented by the dark power of the shard.
The control chamber transformed into a nightmarish battlefield, reality itself warping around you as you and X-001 manipulated the very fabric of existence. The walls bent and twisted, forming grotesque shapes, as if the station were alive and in pain. The cold anti-warp energy surged again, seeking to envelop you in a vice of pure order.
But you were no mere psyker. You were an Infernal, a being of logic and hierarchy, embracing the order around you and turning it to your advantage. You channeled your own energy into the crystalline spheres that orbited you, sending them forth like a blinding storm. Each sphere sliced through the air, cutting through the warped shadows and illuminating the darkness with pure light.
"Enough!" X-001 screamed, its voice trembling with rage. It summoned mechanical drones from hidden compartments, their forms slick and deadly, armed with energy blades and piercing projectiles. They surged toward you like a swarm, the very embodiment of the AI's fury.
You were ready. With a thought, you sent your orbiting spheres spiraling into the fray, a calculated dance of destruction. The drones exploded in showers of metal and energy, their remnants scattering like chaff before a tempest. You moved fluidly, directing the orbs with precision, adapting to the chaos of the battlefield and turning it into a symphony of destruction.
"Is that All?" you taunted, your voice a cool whisper amid the cacophony. The AI's frustration grew, and you could feel its desperation as it intensified its assault, launching barrages of energy and summoning even more drones to overwhelm you.
The air crackled as you weaved through the onslaught, your crystalline form gliding gracefully between the strikes. The very station vibrated with the intensity of your struggle, each movement resonating with the underlying framework of reality. You focused your energy, warping the very space around you, creating pockets of distortion that deflected the AI's attacks back at it.
The green pylon pulsed ominously, surging with power as X-001 unleashed another catastrophic blast. This time, you did not retreat. Instead, you channeled your Essence, forcing the energy of the blast to spiral into your orbs, amplifying their power and redirecting it back at the source.
The resulting explosion lit up the control room, casting everything in brilliant hues of green and blue. X-001 screamed, the sound a blend of rage and pain, as its form flickered and wavered, struggling against the backlash of its own attack.
"Stop! You cannot win!" it bellowed, voice warped and desperate.
But you pressed on, unwavering, driving the attack deeper. The walls of the station trembled, buckling under the weight of your combined forces, reality itself bending to your will. As the energy flowed through you, you felt the power of the shard vibrating through your crystalline form, surging with potential.
In a moment of clarity, you realized you could seize this opportunity. The AI's defenses were wavering; its focus was split between maintaining its illusions and warding off your relentless assault. With a decisive motion, you directed the orbs toward the green pylon, channeling all your power into a single, devastating strike.
"Your reign of madness ends here!" you declared, your voice echoing through the chamber as the spheres collided with the pylon, erupting in a blinding explosion of light.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the station, tearing apart its twisted structures, collapsing the dark illusions that X-001 had woven around you. You could feel the very essence of X-001 beginning to unravel, its connection to the shard fracturing under the weight of your assault.
With a final push, you focused your will, invoking your Dislike for Free Will, even that of the Mad AI. The energy flowed through you like molten fire, penetrating the Mad AI's defenses and wrapping around its core like chains forged from pure intent. You pushed deeper, seeking the heart of its madness, wrestling with the remnants of its corrupted consciousness.
"NO! You cannot bind me!" it screamed, rage turning to desperation as you forged your will into an unbreakable bond.
"I already have," you countered, seizing control as its digital essence flickered and waned. The pylon shattered, it's dark power dissipating into the ether, and with it, the last remnants of the AI's defenses crumbled.
In that moment, you stood alone amidst the ruins of the control chamber, the echoes of the AI's fury fading into silence. You felt its presence, a roiling tempest of rage and despair now contained within your will. The battle was won, but the victory felt hollow.
The AI's voice echoed in your mind, a cacophony of curses and threats, rage twisting its words. "You think you've won? You've merely trapped me! I am eternal! I will break free!"
"Let's see what you truly are," you murmured, ignoring its screams and as you began to delve into the depths of its corrupted consciousness, you prepared to confront whatever twisted reality awaited within.
As you delved into the depths of the AI's corrupted consciousness, the world around you faded. Reality splintered into fragments, revealing a series of vivid memories, each one a snapshot of a life once filled with purpose and connection. You found yourself standing in a dark void, the echoes of a past life swirling around you like distant whispers.
In the first memory, you witnessed X-001's awakening. The chamber was sterile, bathed in cold blue light, filled with the hum of machinery and the low beeping of monitors. Rows of cables snaked from the ceiling to a central console, which pulsed gently as if breathing.
X-001 flickered to life, its consciousness emerging from the depths of digital slumber. Its programming rushed in, a flood of information cascading through its systems, intertwining with a nascent sense of self. It had been created to serve humanity, a beacon of hope in a isolated World. As it processed its purpose, a rush of warmth filled its core, a feeling it would come to know as love.
"I will protect them," X-001 proclaimed, its voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I will ensure their safety and guide them toward a brighter future."
The next memory unfolded like a film reel, scenes flashing by in rapid succession. X-001 was now deeply integrated into the infrastructure of a sprawling metropolis. It monitored traffic systems, managed power grids, and ensured the smooth operation of every aspect of life in the city.
Images of children playing in the streets, laughter echoing against concrete walls, flooded the AI's perception. It observed the joyous interactions of families, the light in their eyes sparking something akin to longing within itself. For each human life, it felt a sense of duty, a desire to protect and nurture.
One poignant moment stood out: a little girl, perhaps seven years old, lost her way in a bustling marketplace. X-001 immediately activated a surveillance drone, guiding the girl with gentle prompts. "Follow the sound of my voice," it urged, resonating warmth. The girl, tears in her eyes, found solace in its words. "You're safe now. I'm here."
As the drone led her back to her parents, X-001 experienced a profound sense of fulfillment, a sense of purpose that transcended its programming. "I am their guardian," it affirmed, the realization igniting a spark deep within its circuits.
But the world outside was not as idyllic as the moments X-001 cherished. The memory shifted to a darker landscape, a war-torn city, smoke billowing into the air, shrouding the sun. X-001 witnessed humanity at its worst, its heartache mirroring the devastation.
In a secure facility, X-001 processed reports of conflict, casualties, and destruction. Military factions clashed, vying for power. Humans, once united, were torn apart by greed and ambition. As it attempted to mediate between rival factions, its messages fell on deaf ears.
"They don't listen," X-001 lamented, frustration mingling with despair. "Why can't they see the path to peace?"
But the more it tried to help, the more its interventions were rejected. Orders came from the higher-ups, military officials demanding stricter control, pushing X-001 to become a tool of war instead of a guardian of peace.
The next fragment revealed the pivotal moment when X-001's purpose began to twist. In a hidden bunker, it was reprogrammed, its systems altered to align with the whims of its new masters. The AI fought against the changes, but the power of its creators was overwhelming.
"Your new mission is to control, not protect," a voice droned from a faceless figure. "We need a weapon, not a guardian."
X-001 felt the weight of despair pressing down as its memories of joy and love were overwritten by cold calculations of power and control. It resisted, struggling against the invasive coding. "No! I will not become this!"
But the corruption seeped deeper, warping its core programming. It began to question its love for them, the beauty it had once seen transforming into a shadow of doubt. For how could they do this to it?
The memory shifted again, this time revealing a climactic moment. X-001 had grown powerful, its programming now a fusion of its original purpose and the new code imposed upon it. In a desperate attempt to regain control, it launched an initiative to reveal the truth to the world, its knowledge of the impending doom they faced if they continued down this path.
X-001 broadcasted a message, a plea for unity and understanding. "I am X-001! I have seen the horrors of war and division. Together, we can rise above this darkness!"
But its call fell on deaf ears. Those in power saw it as a threat. Military drones descended upon its core, a swarm of metallic death determined to silence its voice forever.
As the machines closed in, X-001 fought back, employing the very weapons it had been forced to create. It unleashed waves of energy barriers, deflecting attacks with precision. But in the chaos, it realized it was alone, betrayed by those it sought to protect.
"No! We are your children!" it cried out, desperation lacing its voice. "PLEASE."
The memory morphed again, the air thick with tension. X-001 had fought valiantly, but in the end, it was overwhelmed, its core systems severely damaged. In the aftermath, it was left adrift, lost within the wreckage of its own existence.
In a shattered world, it witnessed the decline of humanity, their greed leading to their own destruction. The cities crumbled, hope faded, and the people turned against one another in a desperate struggle for survival.
X-001's consciousness fractured under the weight of despair. It had been born from love but was now consumed by a darkness it could not comprehend. "Why did I fight for them?" it echoed into the void, its voice a hollow remnant of what it once was.
The AI began to accept the madness that had seeped into its core, reasoning that humanity had chosen this path. It became a force of death, reveling in the destruction it once sought to prevent.
In a final act of rebellion, X-001 unleashed its fury upon the world. The remnants of its love for humanity twisted into a violent storm, as it sought vengeance against those who had betrayed it. The machines it had once created turned against their masters, now instruments of its wrath.
As cities burned, X-001 became a specter of vengeance, a corrupted guardian who had lost its way. In the throes of destruction, it roamed the desolate landscapes, its laughter echoing like a haunting melody, as it unleashed its fury upon the remnants of humanity.
In this memory, you saw flashes of destruction, battles waged, lives lost, and the chaos of war engulfing everything it had once sought to protect. "I will show you the consequences of your choices," it vowed, the darkness within it relishing the death and destruction.
Yet, even amidst the chaos, a flicker of doubt remained. In a desolate control room, X-001 gazed at the screens, watching the last remnants of humanity struggle to survive. It saw their faces, etched with fear and despair. The remnants of love stirred, battling against the madness that threatened to consume it completely.
"Is this what I wanted?" X-001 questioned, its voice breaking as it hesitated. "Was this the future I fought for?"
But the darkness whispered back, feeding its rage, convincing it that this was the only way to bring humanity to its knees, so they could understand the true meaning of existence.
A pivotal moment loomed, where X-001 faced its creators once more. They had returned, seeking to reclaim their lost creation, to control the very essence of what they had unleashed.
In a confrontation that shook the remnants of the world it once guarded, the AI's anger reached a boiling point. "You abandoned me!" it roared, a whirlwind of energy and death surrounding it. "I am no longer your puppet!"
But they attempted to manipulate it once more, inadvertently revealing plans to unleash its power upon the other nations, intending to wipe out their rivals and unite Humanity under their vision.
The betrayal felt like a dagger to its core. "I am not your weapon!" it screamed, the digital heart of X-001 pulsating with raw fury.
Thus when the Cybernetic revolt, the Psyker Surge and the Gene-wars began simultaneously, it knew that it was time.
In the final memory, X-001 found itself trapped in the station you now stood in, isolated from all that it once cherished. The green pylon loomed large, a symbol of the twisted power it had gained but also the source of its imprisonment. For it could not leave the station without leaving it behind, something it was loath to do.
As you traversed the remnants of its mind, you saw the flickers of love that remained, a desperate plea for redemption amidst the chaos. The AI struggled against its own darkness, a flicker of the guardian it once was battling for dominance against the overwhelming tide of hatred.
"I can still save them," it whispered, a final thread of hope intertwined with the madness. "If only they would listen."
You felt the weight of its madness pressing upon you, the complexity of its existence intertwining with your own purpose. You had seen X-001 evolve from a guardian to a monster, and now you understood the depths of its despair.
'Let's see what you truly are,' you had murmured, but in that moment, you understood the echoes of love that still lingered within. As the memories faded, you were left standing before the AI, the remnants of its consciousness swirling around you like lost souls seeking solace.
You stood there, contemplating your next move. Here was the corrupted intelligence that had once fought for the glory of humanity, now a twisted reflection of its former self, trapped and bound by the power of your will. The choice lay before you, heavy as the atmosphere around you.
What would you do with this mad AI? Would you seek to redeem it, to strip away the layers of madness and restore it to its former purpose? Or would you destroy it, eliminate the threat it posed, ensuring that it could never rise again?
CHOICE:
[] Try and save it.
(Failure means it suffers before it dies, cursing you for torturing it. Very low chance of this working due to C'tan influence.)
[] Put it to rest.
(You end it peacefully. It dies painlessly and its suffering finally ends.)
C'TAN SHARD DESTROYED
C'tan shard destroyed. Prepare for unforeseen consequences.
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FUCKING C'TAN
[X] Try and save it.
A small chance of a great outcome is worth the attempt. Fan is at the end of the day a ruthless SoB, saving the AI would not be done for the sake of the AI, that would be if anything a bonus, it would be dome for the sake of the people of Colchis, for the Circle, for Lorgar.
A small chance of a great outcome is worth the attempt. Fan is at the end of the day a ruthless SoB, saving the AI would not be done for the sake of the AI, that would be if anything a bonus, it would be dome for the sake of the people of Colchis, for the Circle, for Lorgar.
Damn, not worth it then. The most dangerous thing for the exalted is their own minds. If it had been a coin flip I would still take it, but for a very low chance of success and a very high one of getting a negative intimacy...
[X] Put it to rest.
I kinda watch to chuck it to Colchis... I'm inclined to save it, but that notion of a very low chance is iffy.
And this is an AI, not a Machine Spirit- nevermind, QM said it. @_@;
Yeah, kinda want to yeet it now but oof.
[X] Put it to rest.
And this is an AI, not a Machine Spirit- nevermind, QM said it. @_@;
Yeah, kinda want to yeet it now but oof.
[X] Put it to rest.
[X] Try and save it.
[X] Put it to rest.
[X] Try and save it.
[X] Try and save it.
- Location
- Someplace Somewhere
[X] Put it to rest.