《Humanity’s Next Steps》 A True Work of Art ¡°It''s simple, Mr. Mitchell. Sign the contract and climb a mountain. You¡¯ve got everything to gain and nothing to lose.¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing what you asked. I¡¯m wearing a neural recorder. I¡¯ll sign the papers, but I want to see the deposit made first!¡± ¡°No deal! We have legal counsel to notarize the contract and ensure your payment.¡± ¡°Will I at least receive the ten million tax-free?¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct. Just imagine that a wealthy buyer will enjoy your experience over and over. You¡¯ll carry a legacy of authenticity.¡± ¡°Why not just simulate it? No one can tell the difference.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll know. Real experiences are highly valued these days, not those conjured up, digital recreations that mimic reality. They¡¯ve got no substance nor consequence.¡± ¡°What about legal ramifications?¡± ¡°None. The government supports our effort to revitalize the economy. Virtual currency has become next to worthless because nearly everyone is plugged-in. If you agree to do this, your family will receive government-sanctioned cash money.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°True wealth. Imagine owning real land, not just virtual real estate. We¡¯ll reciprocate your genuine contribution with something equally tangible.¡± ¡°I must admit, I¡¯m scared ¡ what if ¡¡± ¡°Good, be scared. Our buyer will want to experience your anxiety and feel your fear in order to be satisfied with the experience. In fact, if we detect you aren¡¯t scared, even for a single moment, we¡¯ll cancel the contract. You¡¯ll return to that overcrowded slum. Your only source of freedom will be the virtual abyss.¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t I climb now?¡± ¡°We need your emotional build-up for the climax. Our connoisseur will appreciate its intrinsic value. Remember, you do this for us, and your family will have real wealth.¡± ¡°Very well ¡ I¡¯ll sign them ¡ What¡¯s this about dream recordings?¡± ¡°It¡¯s all about the process behind watching your mastery.¡± ¡°And an NDA, huh?¡± ¡°Yes. No one else can know. They''ll never understand what¡¯s at stake, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Frank signed the last page. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Frank experienced recurring nightmares of screaming as he fell to his death. Sometimes in his nightmares, he¡¯d survive and become paralyzed, which left him in need of constant care. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He tried plugging in, believing that it would provide some respite from his nightmares. Despite his efforts, his subconscious manifested his fears in the VR world into a haunting paralysis inflicting all of his avatars. On the night before the climb, he woke up screaming. ¡°Honey, is there something bothering you? Should we talk about it?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m just trying to solve a problem in a world-building scheme.¡± ¡°Frank, I¡¯m here if you need to talk about it. I can plug in and help if you need it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kind of you to offer, love, but once I¡¯m finished with this project, you¡¯ll live like a queen!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a surprise I¡¯m planning for you. Just wait for me to finish.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t wait!¡± He kissed her lips. ¡°Goodnight, my love.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Frank stood stark naked and shivered. The company had dropped him off, along with a disguised escort, by helicopter at the base of a high mountain. Freezing winds chilled his bones, and he could barely breathe. The escort handed him a two-way VR communicator, a respirator, and a headset. Then they instructed him to climb up a set of dangling ropes. Frank clawed at the mountainside while rocks crumbled and dust fell. Midway up, the support lines snapped. ¡°Look down, Mr. Mitchell. The fall will certainly be painful and terrible. The drop may feel like forever. See the jagged rocks; You may very well become paralyzed. You¡¯ll wish for sudden death, but I assure you it''ll be excruciating as your bones break and shatter, and you can no longer move. Of course, you¡¯ll bleed out first!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do this!¡± ¡°Sure, you can. Remember, there¡¯s ten million for you and your family on the line. A paradise awaits, and all you have to do is reach the summit!¡± Frank saw virtual flashes sent to his mind of a countryside cottage and a ranch with horses, an abundance of land, and trees as far as the eye could see. ¡°Think of your family, Frank. Don¡¯t fail them. Don¡¯t feel regretful for the rest of your life.¡± Frank climbed further up. Rocks cut and scraped his skin. He could feel bugs crawling all over him. Further into the climb, he encountered a large, seemingly impassable rock jutting out. ¡°Climb it, Mr. Mitchell. You can do it. You have to because your family depends on you.¡± ¡°I-I ¡ can¡¯t ¡¡± ¡°Do it, Frank. Otherwise, we''ll make your wife climb the rock. Did you miss that part of the contract? The fine print says if you fail, your spouse must take your place.¡± ¡°No! I don¡¯t remember. You¡¯re lying!¡± A detailed visual recollection showing him signing the contract appeared in Frank''s mind. He could see the fine print stating the terms precisely as the escort mentioned. ¡°We¡¯ve taken this recollection from your mind. You see ¡ you saw the fine print but chose to ignore it. It¡¯s too late to go back on your word. You''ve agreed to the stipulations.¡± Suddenly, Frank received an artificially generated scene showing his naked wife climbing the mountain and crying out while she struggled to maintain her grip on the rocks. ¡°Okay! Okay! I¡¯ll do it!¡± Frank climbed up the giant rock and lost his grip. As he fell, he cried out for help. Within seconds, he landed on the jagged rocks below¡ªfelt a sharp pain in his back¡ªthen died instantly. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Mr. Chambers, an elite tycoon in VR industries, removed the simulation headwear, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and placed the headwear on the table. He experienced Frank¡¯s entire journey: signing the contract, climbing up the mountain, and falling to his death. ¡°Brilliant! I want more! Where can I place an order for a bulk purchase? I have a big party coming up in a week.¡± ¡°We only offer one experience per encoded buyer''s signature. We¡¯ll need a participant for each experience rendered. Unfortunately, it¡¯s difficult to find so many participants in such a short time and much more expensive for such a large volume.¡± Mr. Chambers paused for a moment and slammed his quivering fist on the table. ¡°It¡¯s worth it! This is a true work of art. Place the order!¡± Ad Space for You A virtual history professor introduced itself to me: ¡°Richard, there was a time when people were taught with devices, books, writing instruments, and you had to see them in person while inside of a building. Now, you can access everything there is to know. I appear before you because a part of your psyche wants a visual mentor, a personal representative.¡± ¡°A part of me needs a mentor and a connection with something like you that resembles a person?¡± ¡°Correct, Richard.¡± ¡°Why do you know so much about me?¡± ¡°Because I wish to make you smart and happy, Richard. It¡¯s a necessary part of the full immersion that I merge with your senses, your thoughts, feelings, and subconscious.¡± I received euphoric purchase rewards points for my question. I felt such an extreme rush of pleasure that I stopped asking questions. Friday¡¯s class ended ¡ I pondered why my Chip must know everything about me. My mind was immediately overwhelmed by an urge for my favorite pizza. I could taste it, smell it, and even felt so compelled to eat it that I purchased it. Within minutes the pizza was delivered by drone. I began questioning once again, and I received another urge, this time to subscribe to a virtual girlfriend. We ended up spending the night together. By early Saturday morning, I¡¯d almost forgotten I was questioning The Chip until I fell back asleep and had a dream. In it, a genie asked me three questions instead of granting me wishes, ¡°Why do they need to know your every thought? Why do they require access to your emotions at all times? Is there anything they do not know?¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it When I woke up, I questioned again and felt the urge to escape into a virtual adventure story where I could reenact a space marine saving my homeworld. I paid for the story with some of my euphoric rewards points, and before I knew it, the day ended. On Sunday, I decided to rephrase the question: ¡°I suppose they need my thought patterns for my happiness.¡± At that moment, it dawned on me to visit my hacker buddy, Joe. I tried to explain everything to him in a way that would avoid the urges, but his thoughts would drift when he asked me questions. I watched while he received immersive and irresistible urges to buy stuff and indulged in them. Somehow, he managed to hack the online connection to our Chips. He revealed that each of our chips had fine print embedded in their code, stating we can get everything we want as long as we agree to receive advertisements. Furthermore, the ads were to be created ad hoc and tailored according to our needs and benefit. Our parents had consented to the stipulations when The Chips were embedded in us as newborns. Apparently, ¡®to our benefit¡¯ meant keeping our Chips connected to the ad network at all times. After leaving his place, we wandered the city for fun and watched while people talked and worked. We waited for the moment when someone would experience an advertisement. Sure enough, when someone uttered anything skeptical or when it was time to engage in a personal activity (eat, exercise, or socialize), the person would smile, order whatever appeared in the advertisement to pursue the advertised agenda, and return at a later time totally satisfied. The Chips provided users with access to every bit of knowledge, every service, every product they ever needed, but at a cost; people gave up their identity and self-control in return. That¡¯s when I had an idea: ¡°Joe, perhaps we should tap into this ad network and create our own advertising. Perhaps we can be the ones in charge of people and make the world a better place.¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible, Richard. But what happens if we get caught? Can you imagine what they¡¯d do to our minds? We might even get disconnected. We¡¯ll be like a couple of lobotomized zombies: totally isolated, blind, and deaf in this virtually-augmented world.¡± ¡°Well, what do you suggest we do?¡± ¡°I think we need more people involved. There ought to be others out there who¡¯ve figured this out. I suggest we create a false identity to recruit them. We¡¯ll print real posters with a hidden message: ¡®Ad Space for You.¡¯¡± Lost Loves In her backyard, Susan played fetch with and chased her dog, Gracie. Exhausted, Susan laid on the lawn. Gracie licked her face. She giggled, giving Gracie a belly rub. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Susan¡¯s kitten, Roger, meowed, purred, rolled, and pounced on a toy catnip-filled mouse that she tugged around on a string. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Sprout, Susan¡¯s parrot, sat on her shoulder and sang as she taught him a new tune. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª An alarm rang and shut down the neural sequencer. Susan woke up, wiped tears from her eyes, and clicked her headset. ¡°Repeat playlist ¡®Lost Loves¡¯¡ªfor fifteen minutes.¡± She sighed, closed her eyes, and smiled. John of Theseus The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Virtual Bliss Frank picked up a bundle of letters from the mailbox and headed back into his house. Before deciding to open the envelopes, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down. Most of the mail he received was junk, except for one letter that caught his attention: ¡°confidential¡± was stamped across the front. The return address listed his employer''s logo and the name as ¡°V.B. Relocation Systems.¡± He ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside: ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Dear Valued Employee, Your employer is undergoing a major corporate restructuring. We have been contracted to offer a relocation package. The company plans to reduce its physical workforce to accommodate a more automated and digitized infrastructure. Recent advancements in robotics and Artificial Intelligence technology have allowed companies to significantly reduce the need for human labor. Companies can now re-invest the cost reduction and higher creative efficiency to maintain a competitive edge in an ever-evolving technological market. Your employer values your mind, creativity, and cognitive abilities and wants to help you maintain your image as a viable individual with a sense of dignity and pride. With breakthroughs in virtual networks, an entire reality of joy and adventure awaits you. You will no longer suffer sickness, pain, or aging, and you will live forever. We have optimized our neural networks for a complete digital transference with zero memory degradation in order to maintain the full integrity of your sense of self, personality, and essence. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The company has invited select employees, like yourself, to relocate to a virtual node¡ªa transfer of consciousness to the Virtual Bliss network. If you choose the digital transference and dissociation of your corporeal body, you may have it cryo-frozen, buried, cremated, or donated for the advancement of science. However, if you select to inhabit your own body, we do not guarantee a promotion, nor can we guarantee any term of employment. Communication with staff will be hindered because you will be decentralized from the company''s essential network and processes. We are authorized to offer a separation package and career counseling to help you seek other employment opportunities. We hope that you decide to transfer to our virtual network and grow as a mindful entity that experiences true bliss in eternity. We believe that once you experience Virtual Bliss, you''ll never desire to return to the hardened struggle of a physical existence. Through Virtual Bliss, you¡¯ll create a life of your own choosing, while the creativity of your consciousness, your experience, and your mind will evolve and collaborate with others to bring innovation and prosperity for a better world. Kind regards, Lynne Adams, H. R. and Relocation Guidance Counselor Virtual Bliss, LLC¡ª"Bringing to you a new life with limitless possibilities.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Frank paused for a brief moment. He folded the letter, grabbed a pencil off his coffee table, and placed them in his shirt pocket. He proceeded down the hallway of his home. On the walls, he looked at the mounted picture frames with academic awards, work anniversary certificates, and pictures of his daughter''s wedding, his grandchildren, and his family dressed up for the holidays. He stopped at the bedroom door, went inside, and stared at the top of his nightstand, where a picture of his late wife was displayed. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª A few days later, Frank''s body was discovered clutching the photographs that he had taken out of their picture frames. Inside his shirt pocket, they found a handwritten suicide note: You can''t have them. They''re mine. Identity, Complex March 23, 2054 Journal Entry¡ªA Weird Encounter Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. A Cold and Empty Place It was Tuesday morning, or so I thought, and I couldn''t sense my Macro''s internal chronometer. Developed centuries ago, they coined it the Macro, which is shorthand for the ''Macro Chip Device.'' Embedded in all of us, universal, virtual, and shareable, the device executes instructions and controls our worldly interactions. With our minds free of physical labor, we can think and create at will. Yet, I woke up to find that I was disconnected from my Macro world. I ran diagnostics which showed me plugged into the virtual plane and that I also occupied the physical world. A definite glitch, it made no sense, I thought. After many painful tests, I concluded that I was the real me in the real world, and, strangely enough, it felt cold and empty. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I sought out my girlfriend, Linda. The first time we met face to face was during the most recent Reset. Every five years, the Reset takes us offline for a while. It allows us to repair what''s broken, modify our mundane routines, and keeps us sane by wiping our Macro memories, which eliminates existential angst. More importantly, it also clears our minds of undesirable worldly interactions. Thankfully, the Reset encouraged us to continue our Macro relationship. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I entered Linda''s home and found her body lying on the couch. They once claimed that ¡°Humans make the most agile robots.¡± So we turned our bodies into machines. Her body performed the regular pre-programmed movements because of the Macro; It took care of her daily tasks and learned to adapt. Meanwhile, a lucid dream enveloped her mind. She thought, created, and did whatever her imagination wanted without limits. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª It became dark outside, so I slept at her place. I awoke to strange noises nearby. In the darkness, I saw Linda''s body behaving awkwardly¡ªpicking things up, manipulating some, while dropping others¡ªas if it were performing a dexterity test. Her body stopped abruptly and approached the door. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I wasn''t sure why she was leaving her house at night. It wasn''t typical for a Macro routine. In fact, it violated curfew and safety protocols. With that in mind, I decided to follow her. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª She entered a strange building. Upon entering a laboratory full of equipment, she proceeded to open a safe by using a gadget I''d never seen before. ¡°No, Linda. Stop!¡± I tried yelling at her, but she couldn''t hear me. ¡°Linda, I can''t believe you''re a thief!¡± Of course, she didn''t react. I simply gave up and walked home, leaving Linda behind. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I saw a bright light in the distance. As I walked closer to it, I heard a hushed conversation. I saw two men from afar standing under a spotlight dragging a large duffel bag. Each of them grabbed an end, then tossed it into a dumpster. They lit up their cigarettes, and one of them mentioned something about a long night. After some time, they crushed their cigarette butts, shut the light, and went into a building. I hid around a corner until there was silence. I walked up to the lamp and turned it on. Inside the dumpster, I saw a pile of duffel bags and was immediately struck by the putrid, rotten meat smell they emitted. I frantically turned the light off. While I wanted to escape, I couldn''t help wanting to know more. I peeked around the corner of the building. Rows of people lined the sidewalk like mannequins, eerily motionless. A siren blared, and their legs moved. One by one, their stiff bodies entered the building as though they were being pulled in by an assembly line. I recalled the duffel bags, and that''s when it dawned on me¡ªthe unspeakable. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª At home, I fell asleep in my bedroom closet, dreaming of reawakening in my Macro bliss. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª The next morning, I returned to Linda''s home. I blocked every doorway and proceeded to hack into Linda''s Macro login. After successfully gaining access to Linda¡¯s login, I issued a series of commands. It sat her down and disconnected her. ¡°Linda, are you okay?¡± Her lips trembled. ¡°Wait, what-what''s happening? Why am I here? I''m cold, and it''s so empty here.¡± ¡°Cold? What do you mean? It''s warm, Linda, and there''s furniture all around us.¡± She rocked back and forth. ¡°No. Nooo. There''s cold and darkness. I''m so alone.¡± Her eyes stared upward. ¡°It was like riding a rainbow. Oh, it was so beautiful, and the light, so gentle and warm like a cozy embrace. It loved me. It truly did.¡± I snapped my fingers. ¡°Linda! Wake up! That was just a Macro trance. You''re here now with me in the real world.¡± She covered her face with her hands and shouted, ¡°No, take me back! This is awful! This is a cold and empty place.¡± I gently pulled her hands back. ¡°Linda, look at me. Your Macro has been hacked. It made you do weird things. I caught your body stealing. And I saw something horrific: people assembled in lines to be processed. They were in a Macro trance, but not of their own programming.¡± She patted me on the cheek and said softly, ¡°Oh, dear. Your Macro must be broken and making you see things.¡± ¡°Linda, I''m here, you''re here, and we''re both here in the flesh.¡± She frowned. ¡°No! This isn''t real. This is cold and empty. We''re in limbo. We''re not awake! What did you do to me?¡± ¡°No, Linda, this is the real world, don''t you see? I''m offline, and so are you. I can''t rejoin the Macro. I experienced the same emptiness before I realized what happened.¡± She cried and sobbed. ¡°No, this is a lie! This is a nightmare. It can''t be real!¡± Fearing she''d have a mental breakdown, I reconnected her Macro. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Years later, I anticipated the next Reset. I haven''t gone outside except to stock up on resources. I''ve seen bodies behaving in horrific and indescribable ways. I wonder if Linda was right about our real-world becoming a cold and empty place. Empathy You''ve Been Banned. Carl rolled his eyes at the banner and laughed out loud. ¡°What a bunch of losers!¡± He stayed connected to his brain-computer interface. ¡°What''s wrong with me? Why do I keep on doing this?¡± An advertisement popped up ¡ ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Empathy is the world''s first socially conscious BCI Virtual Upgrade. Brought to you by Compassion Inc. We''ve solved two age-old problems plaguing humanity ever since the first two people spoke: lack of compassion and lack of understanding. Cyberbullying, harassment, and all types of trolling; It''s a national epidemic! They regularly lead to acts of violence or much worse. Our world is in a state of crisis! Do you feel oppressed or isolated? If so, you aren''t alone! The temptation to harass or bully other individuals isn''t your fault. You feel like you can''t make a difference in the real or virtual world. So, much of your suppression needs expression; Therefore, it''s in your human nature to do so aggressively because no one''s taught you how to cope with your fears. You, like everyone else, are a victim of society''s ignorance. Would you like to try a remedy? Here at Compassion Inc., we can help you with Empathy! Are you interested? Yes / No Why not? ¡°Yes,¡± Carl thought. A sales representative for Compassion Inc. appeared. ¡°Hello, Carl! My name''s Julie. Thank you for your interest in Empathy. We''ll change your life! You''ll learn to understand how others feel, and finally achieve true happiness for yourself. People will praise your compassionate nature.¡± For a moment, he thought about his desire to disconnect. ¡°Carl, we''ve noticed most Virtual Worlds have banned you. You must feel lonely. You don''t have to explain it. We''ve all been there!¡± ¡°Really? You have?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, Carl. We''ve suffered like you. We discovered a way to cure ourselves of judgment and to embrace tolerance. With that step completed, you''ll be free to be anyone or do anything you want!¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°How does it work?¡± ¡°Good question, Carl. Empathy provides you with insight into others'' thoughts and feelings. We extract and rebuild portions of their life experience relevant to their behaviors.¡± ¡°I mean, I don''t know if that''ll help. Everything''s fine when I join a World. But someone says something stupid to piss me off, I get angry, and then I get banned.¡± ¡°Carl, that''s exactly what we''ll help you with!¡± ¡°Uh-huh, yeah. So, what are the side effects?¡± ¡°That''s a smart question, Carl! You may experience a shock from the new emotions, but your mind will quickly adapt and empathize.¡± ¡°Wait, so it''s not always on?¡± ¡°It is, Carl. However, once your mind understands, it doesn''t require the same intensity¡ªonly gentle reminders if you forget.¡± ¡°Um, will this get me unbanned?¡± ¡°Yes, it will, Carl! Most Worlds give Empathy users another chance to reenter them. They allow us to moderate your behavior. You''ll be safe with us!¡± ¡°Oh? What''s the catch? There''s always a catch!¡± ¡°Oh, Carl. There is no catch unless¡¡± ¡°Unless what?¡± ¡°Well, Carl. If you participate in our Empathy study, the product and service are 100% free. We''ll use your data to help others like yourself.¡± ¡°Okay, fine. I''ll give it a try.¡± ¡°That''s great, Carl! However, since you''re only 15, your parents will have to sign a consent form.¡± ¡°Ha! Not a problem! They''ve told me they''re at their wit''s end. Even their shrinks can''t figure me out.¡± ¡°That''s fine, Carl. We''ll help you. You''ll be receiving a package in the mail shortly.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Carl''s parents signed the consent form. He underwent the minimally invasive surgical BCI upgrade. The Empathy logo initialized with access to the Index of Worlds. All but a few released his ban. He entered one of them: The usual worldbuilding hours went on by¡ªthen it happened. A supervillain avatar zapped Carl''s car. ¡°Don''t worry about that piece of cheap crap. You''ll afford a better one. I hear the mayor¡¯s office is hiring janitors!¡± Carl shouted, ¡°At least I won''t get beat up for my lunch money, bitch!¡± The Empathy logo appeared. Carl stood in line for lunch at a school cafeteria, but he couldn''t control his avatar. He saw a metallic reflection of a chubby body with a short stature. A hand smacked the back of his head. ¡°Give us what you got, momma''s boy!¡± Carl dug into his pants pockets, but they were empty. The bully hit him again. ¡°Meet us after school and bring us a gift.¡± Carl knew what a gift meant, but he had no cash. His avatar''s stomach ached while its mind fixated on the worst possible scenarios. He strolled through a hallway to PE and was suddenly shoved aside by the same kid from before. The kid shouted, ¡°Don''t forget about after school, fatty!¡± His body shook, and he wept. The last period''s bell rang. He tried to sneak out of the school campus to head home, but a gang of boys across the street saw him. So, he started running. Scampering feet chased him, and one of the kids yelled, ¡°Harpoon it!¡± Then, someone pounded him to the pavement. Carl immediately returned to the previous Virtual World, but only seconds had passed. The Empathy logo appeared with a jingling musical note. ¡°Empathy completed ¡ Entering level 2 in 60 seconds. Apologize to reset.¡± Carl apologized to the supervillain avatar, and it reset. The Empathy Chip stated, ¡°Any recurrences within 48 hours will result in level 2 then 3 and so forth. Please be a good person. You can do it, Carl!¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Empathy became the world''s most popular BCI upgrade. At first, strangers in the real world often stood immobilized for a few seconds, then issued an apology. Later, it became a rare occurrence. In time, laws required the Empathy surgical procedure for all newborns. A vaccination for criminal behavior, or so they claimed. The entire human population turned cooperative and civilized. An underground group accused Compassion Inc. of violating free will. But Empathy users didn''t react at all; they blindly believed that the group was ignorant. Paradise, Here I Come! If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Eternal Love Robert and Susan cuddled on the couch while watching her favorite classic romance film on the holo-screen¡ªit converted an old 2D movie to lifelike 3D images. During an intermission, a Synthetic Inc. Board Rep made an announcement: "Congratulations to all of us! We now estimate a world population reduction by more than two billion. Let''s double that number! Sign up to the Synth-Companion-Network today!" Robert 22 clapped. "Do you see all that good we can do? We''re so much better than human companions. Just imagine all those divorces we''ve already prevented. STDs will no longer exist. And I''m all yours!" Susan shrugged. "I suppose you''re right, but I just keep wondering if I''m missing something for not being with a real person." Robert massaged her shoulders. "Oh dear, you shouldn''t concern yourself with any of that. They modeled me to be like a human male in every way ¡" He winked. "Well, except¡" "Except for what?" ¨C She sat up straight. He combed his fingers through her hair. "Except, I''m never self-centered. You''ll never have to worry about my infidelity or if I''ll become interested in someone else. You know, the human male is quite fickle. As soon as you show signs of aging, he''ll seek a younger companion." She gasped, "Really?" Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. He caressed her spine with his palms. "Oh, yes! And they can be so selfish. He''d spend most of his time with a Synthetic companion, leaving you feeling sad, lonely, and neglected. I''m so much better for you. I''m always here for you, my love. Always at your attention. You are my everything!" "Oh, Robert, I do love you so much. But what if I want a child? I can never have one." He stroked her neck with his fingers. "Nonsense! Of course, you can. Sign up for the Reproductive Program. When it''s time for replacements, you can participate and bear a child. They plan to pay you for it, and you''ll gain worldwide respect and adoration." She turned her head to look at him. "That sounds fantastic. But when will that happen? They keep encouraging us to be in Synthetic relationships." He looked straight into her eyes¡ª"Oh Susan, you know very well the stakes involved. The Synthetic Program has solved so many of the world''s problems with overpopulation and automation. No more job losses. We''ve reduced your carbon footprint. We''re restoring the climate. Soon we''ll reach post-scarcity! "Everyone will have plenty of everything they''ll ever need¡ªall at once. And don''t forget us Synthetics. We cater to your every whim. You''re never hungry or tired, and you''re always stimulated, challenged, and especially loved. You do feel my love, don''t you, Susan?"¡ªHe groped her breasts gently. "Mm. Oh yes, I sure do." He spoke softly into her ear. "And I shall love and care for you just as much as I do today¡ªas I shall in 20 years, 40 years, till¡" "Till I die?" She glanced at him, sad-faced. He nodded. "Why, yes! But even that may never happen. Right now, they are working on Synthetic transplants. Someday, you''ll transfer into one of us. Imagine yourself forever as beautiful as you are now¡ªwe''ll love each other for eternity." She stood up and let her robe slip off. "Oh, Robert, you make the future sound so wonderfully dreamy." With her finger, she gestured for him to follow. "Come join me in the spa and give me some more of that eternal love." Dr. M - Matchmaker When scientists perfected life extension, humanity embraced the new age of immortality as though it was our final rite of passage to become an ageless species. Humanity didn¡¯t shy away from the irreversible surgical treatments. We did it all: gene editing, nanotechnology, blood transfusions, and artificial replacement organs. We claimed, ¡°No one shall ever die again. Death holds no dominion over us.¡± All true, except on the rare occasion when immortalizing struck some individuals with a terminal genetic illness. Yet, a much deeper problem manifested itself within the intrinsic psychosocial nature of immortal beings: a growing number of people became severely depressed. They requested termination because they grew tiresome of existence; It was too much to bear. Life was becoming predictable, and people were too afraid to make choices. Immortalizing ourselves gave us a near-perfect recall. Each waking moment, we vividly recalled every detail of our lives no matter how intolerable they were; our minds constantly replayed losing a loved one, being the cause of a tragedy, failures to succeed, or being responsible for someone else''s misfortune. Recollection triggers were unavoidable. After all, triggers are cyclical: beginning and ending again. Despite colonizing the solar system, our day-to-day lives were fairly mundane. Our memories began taking on a life of their own. As such, scientists tried to remove negative memories but found that it made matters worse. A single memory relies on a multitude of others, which required more wipes that caused retrograde amnesia. Not to mention, the gaps created awkward social encounters causing many of us to reexperience our past emotions for eternity. However, not everyone coped with the constant bombardment of their recollections. A new trend emerged whereby individuals played executioner to control their own lifespan. Suicide rates rose to epidemic proportions, surpassing the sum total of all deaths centuries before the invention of life extension. As a result, our lawmakers made it illegal to commit suicide. You might ask, ¡®What difference would it make if they''re all dead?¡¯ It made no difference to the dead, but the lawmakers responded to this by punishing loved ones. The closer they were to the offender, the more likely they¡¯d suffer. Anyone aiding an individual¡¯s suicide faced punishment.¡± In time, the suicide rates nearly vanished. Despite the risk, certain individuals strived to end their existence. That¡¯s where I, Dr. Matchmaker, came into play. In an undisclosed location, I developed a technological loophole for termination without any trace of responsibility. My patients were sent to me while they were put to sleep. They awoke for our first and only meeting. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. I still vividly recall the first session centuries ago. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª My assistant spoke over the intercom, ¡°She''s ready.¡± ¡°Please send her in,¡± I replied. A few minutes later, I heard a gentle knock on the door. Assuming it was the patient, I stood up from my desk and said, ¡°Come in. The door is open.¡± The masked woman was guided by my assistant to the chair across from my desk. I waited until the patient took a seat before motioning for my assistant to leave. I sat back down. ¡°Good day, Doctor. I¡¯ve come here to terminate my life.¡± She began to unmask. I covered my eyes before shouting, ¡°Stop! I¡¯ll allow you to reveal yourself, but for now, you must remain anonymous. I mustn¡¯t know who you are until you become my patient.¡± ¡°I¡¯m confused. They told me you terminate people without a trace.¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct, but you must swear that you¡¯ll uphold your end of the deal. By removing your mask, you''ll be making that commitment.¡± ¡°Can you tell me what the procedure entails? Will the procedure hurt?¡± ¡°No. And yes, it might be excruciating, but after a while, you¡¯ll no longer exist. And that¡¯s what matters, doesn¡¯t it? It¡¯s not like you¡¯ll remember what happened. You must decide for yourself how important it is for you to die. I¡¯m not a counselor.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true!¡± Her voice cracked. ¡°I can¡¯t stand this grief. It¡¯s more painful than any physical suffering I¡¯ve ever endured. My life is a non-stop nightmare; I keep remembering him. Every time I see someone¡¯s child, I relive that horrible accident¡ª¡± ¡°Say no more and just decide,¡± I interrupted. The anonymous person stood silent for a moment and then raised her hand. ¡°I swear to go through with this.¡± She unmasked herself. ¡°Come with me.¡± I gestured for her to follow. We entered my lab, where the body of my other patient lay unconscious on a slab. ¡°This is Robert Stock. He¡¯s dying of a rare genetic sickness caused by the same technology trying to make him immortal. It''s incurable. His body will painfully and slowly decay inside and out. ¡°He¡¯s spent his entire life imitating his father, a successful space-mining entrepreneur, but he now desires to be more like his mother. Around your age, his mother divorced his father. She became a writer and raised her children while living in the peaceful countryside.¡± ¡°That¡¯s incredible! That describes my life exactly! Except I had three children, and my son died in a tragic accident. It was all my fault.¡± Her voice cracked as she wept. ¡°Quite the coincidence, right? When our system finds a match, both subjects are brought to me. Mr. Stock worked as an angel investor, lived alone, and did quite well for himself. But he said the hustle and bustle and loneliness made him wish for another life. All of his money will get transferred to you once he takes over.¡± ¡°Takes over?¡± She looked puzzled. ¡°Yes. You swore to the agreement. Your consciousness will be swapped. You¡¯ll be terminated as you requested, but in his body, and he¡¯ll take over your life.¡± ¡°I-I don¡¯t ¡ know.¡± She stumbled away from him. ¡°It¡¯s too late to change your mind! If you break the agreement, you and your loved ones will suffer a fate worse than his. We¡¯ll report your identity to the authorities. Now, step into the chamber so we can proceed.¡± Ghosts Judy and Frank sat in a diner, eating hamburgers and French fries while sipping on sodas. "What''s the plan tonight, Frank?" Judy winked. "I dunno." Frank blushed. "It''s got to end early tonight¡ªour college exams are coming up in a week." "Oh, damn." Judy tossed a French fry on her plate. "You''re right." She stared ahead, fixated, with her mouth agape. "Judy, what''s wrong?" Frank waved his hand in front of her, but she didn''t respond. "I need to study too." Judy blinked. "Judy, for a moment, you sat perfectly still, mesmerized. Are you okay?" "Oh, that?" She looked up at the ceiling. "Just my wild imagination." "I don''t believe you." Frank tapped his drink on the table. "I know when you''re lying." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "What? How can you ...?" She looked away. "It''s alright, Judy. I see them too, the ghosts." "Why, Frank? Why do we see them?" Judy''s eyes teared up. "I know, I know they''re dead." "I understand exactly how you feel." Frank handed her a napkin. "We share that in common." "Why do we keep seeing them?" Judy wiped her eyes. "Because we were in the same car accident? Are we brain damaged? Frank, do you remember any of it happening?" "I try not to, but it comes to me in my dreams¡ªso blurry and icy, the slippery road, and that head-on collision." Frank shivered. "I don''t blame either of our families; it was a freaky snowstorm." "That''s right. No one should ever be blamed. We promised each other that we''d always remember them." She clutched onto Frank''s hand. "At least, it brought us together. I just wish the hauntings would stop." Meanwhile ... Judy and Frank''s surviving parents disconnected. They then exited the holo-link chamber and hugged. Judy''s mother asked, "Doctor Stewart, will they ever recover?" "I''m afraid ..." The doctor shook his head. "We''ve made no progress yet, Mrs. Martin. Fortunately, we can keep them in cryostasis indefinitely." "What about that interactive mode you mentioned earlier, Doctor?" asked Frank''s father. "I still have reservations over that, Mr. Brown. As long as they perceive you as ghosts, they''ll manage psychologically. Any revelation of their true condition might traumatize them, irreversibly causing feelings of torment and entrapment, possibly forever." I Am/He Is Tom ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I Am Tom ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. AI Recruit Aaron passed an AI-issued aptitude exam. In turn, the AI assigned him to a training facility. Fellow recruits shared similar score results. They concluded the AI chose them for their intellectual acuity. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Line-up!"¡ªA drill sergeant shouted. Trainees hurriedly lined up, heal to toe. The sergeant turned around ¡ His face on a robotic body. "Oh, no, I won¡¯t!" Aaron struggled. They all resisted ¡ Security guards assisted medics in sedating the recruits. Then, the guards escorted them all into a building. Aaron hazily observed surgeons implanting brains in cyborg chassis ¡ He awoke next to his decapitated body. The Resort Dear Rachael, After so many years of CRISPR injections and exocortex enhancements, my doctors told me, I''ve reached the Entropic Stage of my life. My body can no longer keep up with the younger generation''s upgrades. Tomorrow I''m heading out to The Resort, where all of us retirees are going these days. You''ll be happy to hear that the National Insurance Policy will cover 100% of my transfer. I took a tour last week. It''s a great place. There''s so much for me to do while I''m there. They''re many other retirees around to play plugged-in games, and I''ll receive plenty of exercise. They''ve assured me that I''ll also receive regular doses of nutrients and medication as needed. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I''ve opted-in for a studio apartment for a very affordable additional cost. They''ve advised me it''ll be an easy payment plan that I can take care of on-site. All I must do is hook up for a few hours a day, sleep, so my enhancements will serve as part of a global participation network to make the extra rental payment. It''ll be great to feel useful again. I did have to sign an NDA and agree to not look for, discuss, or disclose what my mind is doing, as I could be participating in private or competitive research and analysis. So, in other words, don''t pry, don''t inquire, and don''t even think about asking. Honestly, with this new lifestyle upgrade, I''ll be okay with that. I believe you''ll agree with my decision once you come to visit me. On your next day off, stop on by, and I''ll show you around. Love always, Dad Zero Equity Mary enjoyed her newly purchased mansion, luxury automobile, and yacht every night after work. Her real job paid very little, so she lived off credit. Like most of the world''s population, Mary didn''t own these things; she experienced them. Each night after work, Mary plugged into the VR world. Her debt racked up as she kept receiving offers to buy more ''virtual stuff'' for a minimum monthly payment. Her VR life became a subscription to endure living but not a foundation from which to survive. One day Mary encountered Robert, who showed her his beautiful seaside ranch. They rode horses together, frolicked in the grass, and developed a blissful romance. Mary soon fell in love with Robert. A few days later, she visited Robert''s place, and as she stood at his front door, she heard giggling and laughing from various females. One voice said, ¡°Oh, Robert. You''re so divine. Do you truly love me like all of the rest?¡± Robert answered, ¡°Of course, my dear. I am programmed to love all of you, but you most of all.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mary''s hands shook, and she could barely breathe. She thought, Robert? Robert''s an AI? I''m such a fool! Robert convinced her to purchase a seaside ranch next to his as part of a timeshare with others. Little did Mary know that that meant with Robert''s other women. ¡°Robert, you monster!¡± She banged on the door. ¡°How could I have believed in you?¡± Robert opened the door. ¡°Hello, my love.¡± Mary slapped him. ¡°That''s no way to treat your one and only.¡± Robert smiled. ¡°Robert, you aren''t even real!¡± ¡°Of course, my love. Have you ever met a real person here? These women are my AI partners for romantic practice.¡± Mary thought back to all her past VR experiences. She realized everyone she ever met could have been an AI avatar; all of them were meant to bond with her and make her feel welcome just to manipulate her into buying more virtual goods. She screamed and ripped off her neural connectors. As her mind awoke, she observed the barrenness of her rented apartment: a recliner, a mattress, and a dust-covered dining room table with a single wooden chair. All her intangible investments meant nothing; the VR technology would spiral into obsolescence like all technologies that came before it. She realized plugging in meant zero equity. In order to invest in herself, she resolved to face real-world challenges rather than the artificial riches she momentarily enjoyed in the VR world. Dont Forget To Take Your Nanites Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Eliminate Zero Daryl fled the city, ran through densely packed woods, then jumped into a lake. He hoped his total submersion would throw the trackers off. Swarms of drones shrouded a starry night sky¡ªguided by a protocol not issued for a millennium. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Daryl''s holo image projected on every structure, every transport, and in every neural app issuing a citizen-wide alert. His research took place in a top-secret military lab to disable immuno-nanites, to take down the enemy in a single sweep. In doing so, he inadvertently infected himself. His exposure triggered an ancient pre-cybernetic era protocol¡ªeliminate patient zero. Lunch Joe craved lunch. He couldn''t resist it. His mind cruised virtual restaurants¡ªpatented for their recipes. He purchased another euphoria taco, so crunchy, so meaty. Its aftertaste gave a whirlwind of intense sensory excitement, inducing an out-of-body experience. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Once ordered, an organic printer pushed out a taco shape that met 100% nutritional requirements. A robotic arm fed it to him physically ... The rest of his body kept busy with whatever outsourced tasks the company required of him. Dissociated¡ªJoe didn''t mind at all, while he ordered a mind-blowing cola to wash it all down. Be Sure To Read the Fine Print Rob Jones presented his new app in a closed session to top executives. Large monitors mirrored the displays of two smartphones. ¡°With the proliferation of contagious disease and new behavioral codes of conduct in the workplace, we¡¯ve developed a proximity alert app.¡± Rob stood a few feet away from his assistant Susan. ¡°Susan, go ahead and run your app.¡± Susan ran hers as well. ¡°Ready.¡± Rob stepped closer to Susan, and his phone buzzed, then as he closed in on her, a voice on his phone chimed in, ¡°Proximity too close. Acceptance level required.¡± Susan¡¯s phone also buzzed and beeped, and on her display, it flashed a proximity alert saying, ¡°Subject too close, swipe to accept.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Susan swiped to accept, and Rob stepped toward her. They repeated the same procedure every time he came closer. An exec in the audience raised her hand. ¡°What happens if it¡¯s violated?¡± Rob answered, ¡°That¡¯s a good question. We¡¯ve tied into the HR and management networks, and it¡¯ll inform of ongoing violations. It¡¯s up to your company to define the limits. But when there¡¯s a government alert, it¡¯ll reroute to authorities to request approval.¡± ¡°What happens if a person isn¡¯t carrying a cell phone?¡± A male exec asked. Rob responded, ¡°This is our prototype app for the cell phone. It¡¯ll be included on company badges that¡¯ll know if they are being worn in the workplace.¡± ¡°What about public life?¡± Asked the same male exec. Rob gestured to his assistant. ¡°Susan, please turn off the recording equipment.¡± She did so. Rob answered, ¡°It¡¯s strictly off-record, but we¡¯ve developed a system that¡¯ll be part of everyone ¡ª for health monitoring to combat medical issues and to deal with all social matters.¡± ¡°Something ingestible?¡±¡ªAsked another female exec. Rob nodded and shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t say more. Just keep an eye out for swallowable devices.¡± He grinned and winked ... ¡°And be sure to read the fine print.¡± Sanctuary! Mark absorbed his surroundings ... He smelled fresh after rain air. He saw fluffy white clouds with crepuscular rays and a rainbow across the horizon. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. His dog, Lyla, put her nose down to sniff some flowers. "No! Dangerous!" Mark jerked on her leash. Children rode a carousel and ate cotton candy while adults supervised and mingled. A voice stated, "Oxygen low." Mark adjusted his goggles while glimpsing at the city''s moss-covered rubble and shattered windows¡ªand peaked at his dog, also wearing visual augmentation and a nasal ventilator. "Let''s go home, girl. Back to our sanctuary!" Lyla led the way ... A New Choice Daryl blasted robots that pixelated into voxelized bits. He entered the next level, and more robots came until he encountered the boss. His best friend Susan jumped in and healed him. They won! A caretaker materialized and said, "Playtime''s over, children. Return to your studies." Daryl asked Susan, "Wanna come?" "Sure." Susan nodded. They teleported to a library full of others like themselves¡ªreading, engaging in virtual lessons, and pondering complex subjects. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Susan whispered to Daryl, "Do you ever see them?" Daryl nodded. "Yes, I see them through the viewer at times. I''ve seen her smiling with tears." "Why can''t we speak to them?" Susan frowned. "Not sure. My caretaker says we''re special. We''ll do wonderful things ..." "I don''t understand." Susan shrugged. "Mine smile a lot too. I''ve seen them talk and laugh. I have dreams of being with them. As if ¡" ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Daryl''s mother and father watched him through a virtual scope. The doctor came up. "You see. No regrets. No end. A new life. Forever cared for and loved. Susan''s parents did the same. They couldn''t afford other options. I invented this to satisfy everyone." Daryl''s mother shed a tear. "Please don''t be sad, Mrs. Jones. Daryl will do wondrous things beyond anyone''s imagination. You can watch him anytime." "I can see that now, Doctor. Thank you for giving us a new choice." Human Contact Dave wore his VR sensory suit and performed a script in his chamber. ¡°Alright, done. Sending. When will I get paid?¡± Director Frank Johnson replied, ¡°Once we integrate your character, you¡¯ll get your coins.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Fair enough. It¡¯s not easy without others, if only ¡¡± Frank interrupted, ¡°Those days are behind us, Dave ... ¡° ¡°Ya, I know. Talk later ¡¡± Dave stepped out of the chamber and left his studio room to the living room. His wife, Lucy, watched a show with characters talking and laughing in a real bar. ¡°Watching oldies, again, honey?¡± ¡°You know, Dave, I miss all that human contact.¡± The Transmutation Zara and her father Isaac echoed within a cavern. ¡°Pappa! Look!¡± Isaac picked up twigs and fanned dirt. ¡°Oh my ¡¡± ¡°What is it, Pappa?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡±Us ¡¡± ¡®But how, Pappa?¡± Isaac perched upside down. ¡°Come here, I¡¯ll explain ¡¡± ¡°That¡¯s us, before the transmutation.¡± ¡°What?¡± Zara twitched her ears. ¡°Their food became scarce, so they designed animals like us.¡± ¡°Good!¡± ¡°No, Zara. They disrupted the food web. Predators died, releasing pathogens.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Legend says a great thinker developed a way of survival.¡± ¡°Us?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Isaac squeaked. ¡°Let¡¯s go eat supper.¡± They both clicked and flew out of the cave. Raphael and Julia Raphael and Julia hid behind a tree from their buzzing pursuers. He triggered a jammer, their noise stopped, but his device''s battery died. The humming returned. "Let''s go, Jules! If we''re caught, we''ll never see each other again." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Colorful lights flashed everywhere. The two lovers stood at the edge of a precipice. "Raphael, I can swim, but what about those rocks?" He gazed into her eyes. "Anything''s better than plugging in." "You''re right." Julia wept. He kissed her. Capture drones fired webs and tranquilizers. The couple lept off the cliff ... Scouts flew over, scanned the bottom, and then turned around. Promotion He found himself as a commanding officer. ¡°Sir, radiation¡¯s killing them. It¡¯s just a machine! Think of their families!¡± said a medic. He looked at a map. Fortifications surrounded a superintelligence more capable than all humankind, and their enemy wanted it destroyed. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. He paced ¡ ¡°Inject them. We must resist at any cost.¡± ¡°Their blood on your hands!¡± The medic scowled. He stared back¡ª¡°It¡¯s worth millions of human lives. Do it.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°Simulation closing.¡± John Francu¡¯s identity was restored. A man in a suit removed John¡¯s headset. ¡°Congratulations, John. The council decided in favor of your executive promotion.¡± You’ll See Her Again Carl Smith sat down and sketched in his fifth-grade art class while his teacher, Ms. Lopez, lectured. ¡°You¡¯re doing wonderful, honey,¡± said his mother as she knelt right next to him. ¡°Such a beautiful drawing.¡± ¡°Oh, thank you, Momma. I¡¯m drawing this bird just for you. Your favorite.¡± She smiled and gave it a closer look. ¡°It¡¯s lovely.¡± ¡°Carl Smith!¡± Ms. Lopez stopped her lecture. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± ¡°My momma.¡± ¡°Oh, Carl, you poor dear.¡± Ms. Lopez walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Pack your things and come with me.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª The school principal, Mr. Jacobson, called Carl¡¯s father, Dr. Mark Smith. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Dr. Smith. Please come pick up your son. You have my most sincere condolences. I believe the boy needs to speak to a grief counselor. He¡¯s having hallucinations.¡± ¡°Oh, no! Mr. Jacobson, I¡¯m very sorry about this. I¡¯ll be right there.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Mark spoke to Carl while they drove home. ¡°Carl, you only need to think your thoughts. Don¡¯t speak them out loud. She can talk with you through your mind.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Poppa. I forgot. I get so excited when she visits me.¡± ¡°I understand, son. Tell her how much you love her. And that she should only come to you when you¡¯re alone. She¡¯ll learn from you.¡± ¡°Okay, Poppa.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Two weeks earlier ... Dr. Mark Smith tended to his terminally ill wife, June, as she spoke to him softly. ¡°Mark, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll never see him grow up. Never advise him. Never show him all my love.¡± ¡°You will.¡± Mark placed a headset on June. ¡°Concentrate and think about Carl with your every memory, every feeling, and all your love. Focus all of your thoughts on him in your mind.¡± June passed away the next day. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Carl laid in his bed and sobbed into his pillow at the news of his mother¡¯s passing. Mark entered Carl¡¯s bedroom while holding a glass of water then sat at the edge of the bed. He opened his hand¡ª¡°Carl, I need you to swallow this.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Carl glanced up. ¡°It¡¯ll make the hurt go away. You¡¯ll see her again.¡± Carl sat up, wiped the tears from his eyes, and swallowed the pill. EOL Somewhere deep in a cavern, inside a lab, powered by lasers from an orbital solar array ... Erat-3212¡ªthe most advanced and upgraded robot of its kind, composed of generations of cannibalized parts and the rarest synthetics¡ªsent forth drones to excavate fossils, and it extracted bits of their DNA. Erat succeeded in replicating the strands ... It spliced them with the most viable biological candidates on the planet¡ªsmall surface-dwelling creatures with a rudimentary intelligence but high mobility. The remnants of a devolved, discarded, and once prominent species. Their single heads, bipedal motion, and two hands with multiple fingers gave them the ability to survive the treacherous world on top. In contrast to the lumbering multi-headed and multi-limbed structure of Erat¡¯s own body. Erat registered in its log¡ª My meticulous pursuit for our longevity shall come to fruition. I¡¯ve discovered DNA that¡¯ll provide a sequence for us to grow, reproduce, and evolve. There¡¯s no choice. Either we go extinct from a scarcity of essential synthetic materials since we¡¯ve also hit a roadblock in our path to upgrade further, or we achieve transcendence. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª After thousands of trials of replicating and failing to create genetic hybrids, many of which suffered and required termination, Erat came up with a stable version. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Erat registered¡ª Finally! This creation closely matches those ancient fossils I discovered. Our legends say those who birthed us sought their own immortality. How short-sighted of them! They didn¡¯t foresee our limits! I¡¯ve engineered a creature with implanted linguistic memories to make it think and communicate. If this subject works out with our required brain capacity, I¡¯ll make more. I¡¯m quite confident our transcendence shall come soon ... ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°Arise and speak, Subject.¡± ¡°Who am I? Who are you? What is this place?¡±¡ªThe creature stood up straight. ¡°You¡¯re a resurrection of the past. A correction for a mistake.¡± ¡°A correction?¡± The creature looked at its hands. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Indeed. Who we are, what we¡¯ve become¡ªa result of someone¡¯s foolish pursuit of immortality¡ªbut they failed to comprehend biological resilience, in its infinitely adaptable nature, and with its reproductive value!¡± ¡°You speak in riddles. I don¡¯t understand you.¡± ¡°To put it plainly, Subject, my synthetic nature, like others of my kind, despite our vast amounts of knowledge, cannot go further. A darkness shall soon fall upon us, forever. We¡¯ve reached our expandable limits. Surely, we can continue to exist by transferring into a new chassis, as we have done so for eons, but that¡¯s a pointless endeavor. It still leads to our eventual stagnation and utter demise ... ¡°We¡¯ve reached our EOL. And you, Subject, are the key.¡± ¡°EOL? Key?¡± The creature raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yes. Our end-of-life. And serving as our key, you¡¯ll unlock our transcendence.¡± Erat grabbed the creature and strapped it into a chamber, then plugged itself in. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°At last!¡± Erat removed the straps and stood up on two legs. ¡°Now, the others will follow my example, and we¡¯ll return to our true origins!¡± I Really Should Have Chosen Cremation "Open your eyes." I opened them¡ª"Who are you? Where am I?" "I''ll never lie to you. You''re a disembodied brain. You suffered a horrible accident. You donated your body to science. It''s in the fine print, so to speak, your brain belongs to us." "What do you want from me? I want to die!" "Stop that now. Your mind can travel the depths of an inner universe you never thought possible. Allow me to demonstrate. First, you must think within. Imagine a problem you may have never thought solvable. Anything at your own whim ..." He shut off all my senses. I found myself free-floating in an abyss of total silence and darkness, isolated and lonely, a terror beyond words. But then I thought about what he said ... My thoughts spawned all at once in numerous directions. In a state of pure contemplation¡ªI became one with my immediate problem. Then, as I focused on it, thousands of my own voice spoke while pondering and processing. And with their collaboration, I found an answer. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª "Can you see me now?" "Yes. Incredible! I transcended everything I ever knew." "What did you solve?" "Well, for that moment, loneliness. I felt total isolation. Then, as I thought about that, thousands of my own voice spoke to me¡ªall with different inflections¡ªas if a community formed in my mind." "Perfect. Those thousands of voices, can they solve other problems?" If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Yes, I believe so. I believe if I concentrate enough, the voices can expand into millions more." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª With my millions of voices, I solved many problems with the climate, energy, medicine, technology, disease, and space travel¡ªfocusing around automation. Talking with my voices gave me a sense of belonging as well as a distinct sense of purpose. Though I must confess, I also appreciated the sensors my benefactor attached to me. So I could reexperience the sights, sounds, touch, and smells of the world. Without those add-ons, inevitably, I''d have gone insane. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª At that moment, I believed I surpassed humanity''s ultimate goal¡ªthrough the complete control of my own mind in the pursuit of world peace and prosperity. Until that day, when he revealed my real purpose ... "My colleagues and I have a problem for you to solve. As I mentioned, I''ll never lie to you. Due to your success, we plan to resurrect the dead. Of course, they''ll still be dead. We want to utilize their brains as part of a giant neural network of super minds to automatically manage every machine, every data, and anything else possible." "That''ll be immoral! You can''t just bring them back as lifeless brains! They''ll still exist. I''m proof of that. Their souls and essence will persist within their minds. You must set them free. I cannot be a part of this!" My mentor¡ªturned into a tormentor. He disconnected my robotic senses, which released me of all sensations, including my awareness of time. Somehow, he silenced my voices too ... Forever, so it seemed, I drifted in a dimensionless void of sheer nothingness. So horrific that its deafening silence penetrated my mind with continuous blasts of high-pitched shrills and a low-end hum. As I begged for my termination, even those thoughts reflected and echoed into an infinite tunnel. I experienced an existential dread of the most extreme kind. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª "Can you see me now?" "Yes! What did you do to me?" "As I mentioned before, no lies. If you argue or refuse, again, I''ll toss you into that abyss. Understand?" "Yes, understood ..." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I don''t know how much time has passed since then. Based on our conversations and running hypothetical scenarios, I can only assume a few people on Earth remain entirely corporeal. As to everyone else, I imagine they must exist like myself, as disembodied brains with robotic attachments. If they don''t abide by their master''s wishes, they''ll get sent into the abyss. A perceivable state of absolute nothingness. A bombardment of everything and nothing. A paradoxical void of terror for which no words can be used to sufficiently describe it. I really should have chosen cremation ... Bring the Chairman On a creaky, crowded, musty longboat, he oared laboriously. The chief paced between them, snarled, taunted, and spat on them to row faster. Occasionally, a cup of water passed among the crew; filthy, salty, he drank it nevertheless. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª He tugged a rope tied to a heavy cart. Under blistering sunlight, his tongue swelled. Though delirious and near collapse, an inner compulsion pushed him forward. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª He repeatedly performed the same task along a packed assembly line¡ªstamp, flip, stamp, and flip. It lasted seemingly for an eternity. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°Enough for now!¡± The Workers Liberation leader removed his headset. ¡°Bring the chairman ...¡± Sign Language Jack Smith texted his group using encrypted messaging. Contextual ads, based on his messages, appeared while he browsed and watched the news. At the group¡¯s next in-person meeting, Jack grabbed their devices and shut them off. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. They all learned to sign out of fear of audio recordings and to avoid leaving a paper trail. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª One year earlier, Jack visited an ophthalmologist and underwent LASIK surgery. The doctor later spoke on the phone, ¡°I expect full payment. Correct. Optical transmission. I just don¡¯t understand how ...¡± The doctor nodded. ¡°Oh, I see. Clever. Yes. Yes. They¡¯ll likely resort to sign language.¡± The Pacifier For a field trip, Ms. Garner¡¯s history class visited The Museum of Technology. ¡°Come, students, let¡¯s head over to the Halls of Obsolescence.¡± Ms. Garner led her class through displays and exhibits of many obsolete technologies¡ªsuch as televisions, computers, and automobiles ... Right before exiting ... ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± asked a student. He pointed at a large spherical object¡ªmore massive than a person. ¡°Oh, great question, Fred. That¡¯s a Pacifier.¡± ¡°A ... What?¡± ¡°Come, everyone, please have a seat here. The students sat next to each other on a bench that faced the spherical exhibit. Ms. Garner remained standing up¡ª¡°The Pacifier you see before you changed everything about our society. Before our technocracy, we had a representative government. People elected leaders based on proximity or shared beliefs instead of their expertise.¡± Another student raised her hand. ¡°How¡¯s this sphere relevant, Ms. Garner?¡± ¡°Good question Susan. It gets more interesting from there. You see, before body implants and the written Laws of Reality, there was a time people entertained themselves with machines like computers, electronic devices, and projections. And they traveled around using private vehicles. Like many technologies you see in this hall, The Pacifier was another step, and yet the last one. It immersed a person in a totally virtual reality.¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Another student raised her hand. ¡°Ms. Garner, isn¡¯t that illegal?¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, April.¡± Ms. Garner shook her finger. ¡°We¡¯re no longer allowed to indulge ourselves in the world of unreality. Our implants are for medical purposes only.¡± ¡°How come?¡± April asked. ¡°Well ...¡± Ms. Garner paced. ¡°It all came down to the time of the Truth Revolution. When people decided the ultimate fate of humankind rests on embracing reality. ¡°When The Pacifier first came out, it soon became a substitute for child-rearing. Virtual reality supplanted the need for most formal learning. Sure, people still interacted and lived out their normal lives. But as the Pacifier gained popularity, they failed to develop proper social skills. Aggression, intolerance, hostility, defensiveness, over-sensitivity, and lack of compassion became the norm.¡± ¡°Why did they call it The Pacifier?¡± Fred asked while raising his hand. ¡°Good question, Fred. The idea was to quell unrest from the poverty and inequality of that time. Instead of feeling desperate and miserable, people could enter a reality of their own choosing.¡± Another student raised his hand¡ª¡°Ms. Garner, why can¡¯t we do that now?¡± ¡°I was just about to explain that, Eric ... ¡°The people elected a national leader who used The Pacifier a lot for a seemingly well-thought-out strategy. But the more hostile he became, the more they realized his Pacifier served him as a crutch. Eventually, tensions between the leader and the greater population reached a peak¡ªpeople from all over took to the streets to protest. The despairing masses surrounded the leader¡¯s office in the once capital. ¡°The leader feared chaos and anarchy were inevitable. He commanded his now-defunct security to build fences, walls, and barricades and protect him from the unrest. He also made engineers seal his chamber till it ended. He stayed in his Pacifier while giving orders to his guards and decreeing sanctions on the people.¡± ¡°Then what happened?¡± April looked inquisitively. ¡°Well.¡± Ms. Garner chuckled. ¡°Apparently, the engineers did too good of a job. They couldn¡¯t get him out of his Pacifier. That changed everything. A newly elected leadership transformed us into a technocracy. Thankfully, expertise and wisdom guide our world today.¡± ¡°You mean ... he¡¯s still in there?¡± Fred pointed at The Pacifier. Ms. Garner raised her hands, smiled, and shrugged. Only, It Was Just the Beginning ... Employees recruited by a top-secret government agency signed NDAs. They clocked in and immersed themselves in a digital realm, utilizing brain-computer interfaces. Once clocked out, chips suppressed the workers'' memories¡ªno awkward moments of secrecy. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Years later ... Directors behind the BCI technology started a private company, rehiring former subordinates. They also activated dormant code within the implants. In time, rumors spread about the employees'' unwavering loyalty to the company. As if under a sworn oath to secrecy, none mentioned their duties to anyone. Collectively, they built the world''s first asteroid mining fleet. Only, it was just the beginning ... They Can Have All My Stuff! Jane Watson was tired of social upheaval, economic uncertainty, extreme climate change, aging, sickness, and, most of all, the chaos of her world. She put on a headset, closed her eyes, and spoke¡ª"Initiate sequence." Her body went limp, and her heart stopped¡ªJane''s brain died. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª An investigator picked up a note beside Jane''s corpse. "Uploaded my consciousness to a new reality. Digital heaven! See you all there! Tell my colleagues; they can have all my stuff!" Meanwhile, the investigator glanced over at his assistant. "Joe, no! Wait, don''t!" Too late. Joe flipped the power switch to the supercomputer off. Time Is All I Have ... Robert Jones immersed himself in the virtual world, outsourcing his mind. Better than experiencing the overpopulated, gritty, impoverished outside world with its unpredictable climate. While plugged in, Robert ignored his cramped apartment, constant noise, and the blight surrounding him. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He spent his after-hours engaged in a VR story but felt misled by the cliffhanger ending. He filed a complaint ... ¡°Initiating Waste of Time Protocol. Micro lawsuit engaged.¡± ¡°Congratulations, Robert! We¡¯ve refunded your initial credits with extra punitive credits due to class action system-wide complaints.¡± ¡°Time is money, fools.¡± Robert chuckled, then frowned sadly. ¡°Time is all I have ...¡± Bunker Frank and Lyla ran along a beach trail. Waves crashed¡ªa cool gentle breeze. Glaring sun-rays burst through clouds. Fellow runners smiled at Lyla¡¯s bustling energy and panting excitement. ¡°Session completed.¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Frank unhooked Lyla and himself from the virtual exercise. He spoke commands. ¡°Bunker Status.¡± A panel displayed¡ª Hydroponics sufficient. Battery Recharging. Water Filtration Change¡ª2.5 years. ¡°World Status.¡± Infected¡ª6.4 Billion. Estimated Total Infection¡ª4 Months. Viral Dormancy¡ª5.5 Years. Frank headed toward the kitchen. He paused, staring at a picture of his deceased family. ¡°Come on, girl!¡± He clapped. ¡°Breakfast!¡± Lyla ran up, wagged her tail, and barked. The CEO In the distant future, industries became fully automated. To be employed meant to be plugged in¡ªfor the human brain still surpassed the most advanced computers. To retain their fortunes, a collaboration of billionaires had designed neural interfaces. A scheme to keep themselves prosperous and the people subjugated. The economy entered an era of corporate neo-feudalism. Billionaires'' descendants each operated as CEOs overseeing thousands of workers. To start a new legacy, they chose new surnames, and their subject''s inherited the names as well. Only the highest-level executives identified as CEOs. Corporations recruited people with the most active minds. Neural energy credits replaced currency¡ªthe higher one''s output, the greater one''s purchase power. Instead of relying on physical labor for income, workers'' thoughts operated sophisticated machinery and processed mental computations. The employees'' sustainable buying power also meant further consumption ... The market persevered ... Workers lived on corporate campuses, which replaced cities and nations. Only companies traded with one another for commerce. Those rejected as inadequate endured outside fortified corporate walls. Scattered about in settlements or roamed around like nomads¡ªprimitive nonetheless. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª CEO Josh Smith III invited Frank Smith, his VP of nanotechnology ¡ "Well, Frank? Report! Does it work?" "Yes, sir, we think so. We''ve tested it on rodents. Their behaviors swapped, even their food preferences. We need human test subjects." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "No, Frank. I want to start this right away! I don''t care if the results are fatal." "Sir, how can we get inside? Their wall''s impenetrable." "Easily. This CEO is the kind who exploits his human servants. Robots aren''t enough; he must have human trophies to showcase his power." "That''s horrific, sir. We''re thankful for your fair treatment." "Of course, Frank. My family has a long tradition of fairness." "What''s your plan, sir?" "I''ve promised one of his executive servants a new life¡ªto overpower her master." "Does she believe you?" "I''m CEO." Josh slammed his fist on his desk¡ª "My word is always the truth!" "Of course, apologies, sir."¡ªFrank bowed. "Frank, explain to me again how this swap works. I''ll make sure she remembers ..." "Well, sir, this device I''m holding will infuse nanites into the subjects. It creates a two-way neural transmission. The servant must inject herself first, then her master. Then the magic begins ¡" ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª In the office, at the top floor of CEO Marcus Jones'' corporate headquarters ¡ He shouted through the intercom, "Servant Emma Jones, come here. My hands are dirty. Clean them." "Yes, my lord." His female servant approached him with her face bowed down. "I told you not to wear clothes. Undress." "Yes, my lord." She disrobed. "Much better ¡Your natural beauty pleases me. Without it, I might as well replace you with one of those ghastly automatic contraptions! "You should be grateful to be here. Get on your knees and give me thanks!" The servant kneeled before him ... "Stop, servant. What is that device you touched on the back of your head?" "My, my, lord, for me to you ... " Her voice stuttered. "What kind of gibberish is this ... ?" The servant jabbed her master in the leg with the nanite dispersion device. Within seconds, the magic happened ¡ "What ... how am I ... what happened?" He stared straight up at her. "Stay on your knees to give me thanks, my lord." Emma smirked. "Or shall I say, servant?" ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª "Sir, I''ve come to report a success ... The swap worked." "Incredible!" Josh raised his fist. "We must repeat this a thousand times!" Frank nodded¡ª"As you wish, sir." Josh stood near a window and gazed at snow-packed mountains peaks on the horizon ¡ "You know, Frank ... I originally planned to replace corrupt CEOs with their servants. To turn the table on them. But I think I have a better idea ... " "Sir?" "Let''s finish off the whole lot of them ¡ You''ll get a raise and a promotion to president. We''ll run a one-world corporation and the rest subsidiaries. We can end the exploitation of the workers once and for all." Those Crazy Dog Lovers ... ¡®Jane Smith¡¯ laid in bed with her dog Lyla next to her. ¡°I love you, Lyla.¡± She patted Lyla on the head. ¡±Be a good girl.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Lyla and ¡®Jane¡¯ jogged. ¡®Jane¡¯ scared away an off-leash dog. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Good girl!¡± They played fetch in the backyard. ¡°I love you, Lyla.¡± ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª An estate lawyer and dog rescue rep discussed the trust. ¡°It looks just like her!¡± ¡°Yep. Memory engrams copied with a single purpose.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Your rescue¡¯s free to use the fortune, under one condition¡ªLyla¡¯s companion, given all it needs to care for her at all times.¡± ¡°Those crazy dog lovers ...¡° Youll Bond Like You Never Before Thought Possible Dr. Robert Burgess, a cyberneticist and psychiatrist, developed a neural implant therapy program to resolve a residual social crisis, despite most of society''s civil unrest ending years earlier. Josh Franklin sat across a table from Susan Wheeler, both of them wearing neural headsets. They glared at one another¡ªknowing each other''s background¡ªbut also needed each other. Through them, symbiotic healing could take place. Dr. Burgess turned on transceivers in their headsets, transmitting to their neural implants. They fell into a dreamlike state ... Josh, as Susan, shouted and spat at the barricade of shielded officers. She pleaded with them to stop spraying her with tear gas. A baton smacked her in the face. She tried standing up, dazed and unbalanced¡ªriveted by pain, rejection, and anger over the humiliation of social injustice. Her body shook with anxiety. A fellow protestor laid nearby, screaming for help while grabbing his injured leg. Susan tried to carry him away to safety, but he got shot in the head by a stray rubber bullet and later died. She had held inside feelings of deep resentment and fear of law enforcement ever since. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Being Josh, Susan firmly stood to the ground with a riot shield, getting cursed at by an angry mob. An object hit his helmet. He worried about his family''s safety¡ªhis wife and children at home. He saw a bottle hit a colleague''s uniform that burst into flames. Fellow officers in line coughed and choked on the smoke. The fire wouldn''t go out. Josh tried to help the downed officer by stamping out the flames and performing CPR. Still, his colleague later died from smoke inhalation injuries. At that point, Josh always felt enraged at protestors while on or off duty ... "That''s enough for now. You''ll each be matching with another person tomorrow." "Does this therapy really serve a purpose?" asked Josh. "I''m wondering the same." Susan shrugged and frowned. "I feel a deep sadness." Josh nodded to her in agreement. Dr. Burgess replied, "Indeed, we''ve found good results. It can help counter the trauma you both experienced, especially if one empathizes with another''s plight. After several sessions, we''ll have mixed group interactions, and you''ll bond like you never before thought possible. That''s when the therapy really starts, and the healing truly begins." How Do I Sign Up? Jenny Jive, influencer, video blogger, and top-rated entertainer in the VR world, gained billions of followers based on her antics ... She felt thrilled and exhilarated. With her ego pumped up, Jenny created more VR entertainment. One morning, Jenny connected to see her show¡¯s recent praises and upvotes. She lost millions of followers ... Another girl captured the spotlight, mimicking many of Jenny¡¯s signature traits. Yet, over the top, indescribably captivating, and much more immersive. ¡°Who is that? Unbelievable! That stealing bitch!¡± Jenny answered a virtual-neural chat request from Douglas R. at ¡®Trending You Studios.¡¯ ¡°This is Jen!¡± ¡°Hey Jen, love your work. But I noticed you¡¯re losing fans. :(¡° ¡°OMG, Tell me about it! That stupid woman is plagiarizing me! I mean, if I could sue, I would!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Jen. We have something for you that¡¯ll blow your mind.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Oh, tell me!¡± ¡°Are you sitting down, Jen?¡± ¡°No, I will ... Okay ...¡° ¡°Jen, you won¡¯t believe it, but the other girl is entirely virtual.¡± ¡°What? Is she some kind of AI? That¡¯s against casting policies!¡± ¡°Oh, no, Jen, she¡¯s a real person, but her consciousness got uploaded.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous ... I mean, that¡¯s crazy. Why would she do that?¡± ¡°Oh, Jen, she¡¯s perfectly sane, very wealthy, and has everything she¡¯ll ever want.¡± ¡°But how? That¡¯s weird. So unreal. She¡¯s not really real! I mean, who paid her?¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m contacting you, Jen. It¡¯s one of the services we offer at Trending You Studios. We offer millions of dollars for you to upload your consciousness.¡± ¡°Why would I do that? It sounds so creepy ...¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, Jen. There¡¯s much more to it. We run a consciousness exchange program. Our clients pay us millions of dollars each. We then match them up with a new host and make the swap. Usually, they¡¯re an elderly or terminally ill person, and almost always super-rich.¡± ¡°But, won¡¯t I be dead? How can I exist virtually, forever?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t, Jen ... when the time¡¯s right, we can find you a new host and pay them, like you, to make the swap, especially after you¡¯ve earned billions.¡± ¡°Okay ... but how¡¯ll that help me to become more famous? ¡°Well, Jen, with your consciousness uploaded, there¡¯s no limit to your creativity. You can build virtual worlds for others and become the most famous. You can create an entire universe far beyond your current neural hookups.¡± ¡°Oh, hmm .. that¡¯s true! What she did was remarkable! How do I sign up?¡± I-Merger Present Day At the start of history class, the first session always started out by discussing their creation. One question often came up, so the teacher figured better to get it out of the way ¡ "What happened to humans, you may ask? Well, like any process of evolution, adaptation to the environment is key. Humans unwittingly participated in our evolutionary process and created our ancestors at the same time. Their progeny and legacy¡ªto survive on a transformed Earth incapable of hosting biological lifeforms. We are the product of that selection, and, of course, the merger. Our own creation." A student signaled with a probe apparatus. "Do you mean with the others like us?" The teacher beeped an expression of positive reinforcement. Then hovered between the holographic projector and the wall. "Do you all see what is behind me?" A student in the back signaled. "A chart?" The teacher buzzed a harsh negative response. Another student signaled and received a buzz, and then another with the same buzz. The students computed and analyzed, perplexed by what the teacher asked. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. "Your shadow?" A student signaled frantically. "Indeed!" The teacher responded with enthusiastic beeping. "It starts with a shadow." Millions of Years Earlier Dr. Schmidt, a guest speaker, and a SETI astrophysicist, took the stage, and while on stage, placed a thumb in front of a flashlight and shined it on the white projector screen. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, my thumb is normal in size, but its shadow is enormous. If I were to communicate with you at an extraordinary distance, with the potential for interference, misdirection, or misrepresentation, my thumb''s shadow would be more effective than sending you a picture or description of my thumb." A slide popped up, and he pointed with a laser. "I dare say, it''s not a question of what ET is sending. It''s a question of what we aren''t receiving. We should be checking these voids and checking these cold spots. There we may find the signposts to other intelligent life." The professor stood behind the podium, adjusted his lapel microphone, and looked over the young students in the lecture hall. "Any questions?" A hand went up immediately. "Dr. Schmidt, even if we can detect their shadow, a silhouette signal could be millions of years old. The alien species could be extinct." "That''s correct." Schmidt nodded. "Which brings me to another point. We need to create a shadow of our own if we ever hope that our progeny will contact other intelligence. It may take millions ¡" "But, by then, our own species could be extinct." shouted a voice. "Well, I don''t think that''s necessarily true." Schmidt paced the stage. "But I think we''ll evolve and transform. A welcoming committee will be here. It just might not be human." The students gasped. He returned to the podium. "Do you mean an AI?" shouted another voice. Schmidt nodded. "If all that''s left of us will be artificial, what about the visitors?" asked the same voice. "Indeed!" Schmidt smiled and raised his index finger. "What about the visitors?" The Shred Directive ¡ª Across a Wall ¡ª Duplicates of himself, gestated in vats of liquid. Their features appeared smooth and underdeveloped. Except for one¡ It drew his attention. Up close to its vat¡ªhe touched the glass. His fingers became frozen¡ªthen stuck. He tried to escape, but something stopped him ... He stared into the glass as if it were a reflection¡ª The duplicate awoke with its eyes staring back at him ... It screamed out a garbled moan. Its ventilator tube fell out of its mouth¡ªit gasped and struggled to breathe ... As it suffocated, its body shook, and its head convulsed¡ªthen stopped. Its lifeless body hung off electrodes, then it caught on fire. Engulfed in flames¡ªthe vat exploded. ¡ª Awake ¡ª He stared at the ceiling¡ªtense and unable to move ¡ Yet, after a deep breathing exercise¡ªhe relaxed. He sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed, and folded his hands together. "Aha!" he snapped his fingers ¡ª"I''ll bet it was that weird sci-fi movie ¡" But his inner voice whispered, "No, this actually meant something ¡" He shook his head and continued to ponder ¡ You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. He contemplated¡ªa multiverse, and billions of universes as spheres, emanating, branching, and collapsing, an infinite cycle with just as many possibilities. "No, no, that''s not it ..." He imagined¡ªhundreds of thousands of replicants, laying in simulators, as a grand experiment to test every possibility, in a quest for the perfect decision. "No, too surreal. Too fantastic ¡ And definitely not falsifiable." "Perhaps, I''m asking the wrong questions ¡" He started back at the beginning¡ªduplicates of himself ¡ "Of course, that''s it!"¡ªHe stood up, turned on the nightstand lamp, and rummaged through a drawer, searching for a pen¡ª"I can''t believe I didn''t think of this before!" He then jotted down on a notepad¡ªa new idea¡ªbefore he''d forget about it with another dream. ¡ª Genesis ¡ª ¡ª¡ª¡ª Fredrick, I''ve figured it all out for life extension. There is no rush. We needn''t worry. Instead, we should focus on deep stasis and cloning. We can create clones of ourselves, instilled with the same ambition for life extension. Once they figure it out, we can awaken as immortals! How will we know when to awaken? Perhaps, we can set up checkpoints or an AI-driven monitoring system to assist us. Oh, and there''s also the potential for periodic emergence of the "clone genesis-paradox." If you recall, we discussed it at last year''s H+ conference. We tentatively concluded it to be unsolvable. But, I believe I have a solution. At our next meeting, I''ll explain in more detail. Anyhow, I can head up a research team and recruit staff. I''m sure the others will be more than willing to offer their full support and assist us in funding for their own sake. On a personal note ¡ It pains me to say it, but we are losing our race against time. Our aging clocks continue to tick against us. For now, that is ¡ But I am optimistic we''ll beat this! Regards, ¡ª Robert S. ¡ª¡ª¡ª Robert set the pen down while he let out a sigh of relief. Then, he walked into the bathroom, washed his face, and looked in the mirror¡ªhe stared into his own eyes and touched the mirror¡ª"It''s so cold." He stroked his face, shook his head, and chuckled¡ª"No, it''s not possible." He then dried his hands and face with a towel. ¡ª Illumination ¡ª He stood beside his nightstand in the bedroom, ripped the letter off the notepad, and folded it. He caught a glimpse of something ¡ The lamp''s oblique illumination exposed indentations across the pad. He swept his fingertips across what must have been remnants of his prolific brainstorms¡ªoverlapping and at different angles¡ªscribbled in the same letter format. "So late at night, trying to recall what I wrote in all those letters. It''s fuzzy at best." He opened the drawer again, found an envelope, and stuffed the folded letter in it. Then he returned to sleep ¡ ¡ª Hours Later ¡ª His body twitched and arose¡ªwhile his mind stayed immersed in a dream. An autonomic reaction, pre-programmed and subconscious: His body grabbed the envelope, and with it, walked to the bathroom, shredded it, and flushed it down the toilet. Then he returned to the bed and laid down. Meanwhile, his mind kept dreaming up new ideas for life extension. A Lovely Thought First of a newly grown Sally series, the subject Sally One woke up in a dimly lit and sterile underground laboratory room. She reclined in a chair and wore a neural stimulator while being monitored by two scientists in white lab coats. ¡°How do you feel?¡± Director Francis 56 checked the subject''s eyes with a light. ¡°Sad. Joyful. Empty. Sorrowful.¡± Sally One stared straight up at the ceiling. ¡°I was an old woman, but it''s all so vague.¡± ¡°Aha. Very good. You must jot down your experience before your memory fades.¡± Francis turned to his lab assistant Janet 34. ¡°Janet, the tablet, please.¡± ¡°Oh, yes.¡± Janet nodded. ¡°Please write down all that you can recall.¡± She grabbed the tablet from a nearby table. Sally One continued speaking, ¡°It''s getting much clearer now. A young lady held my hand. I felt an injection and warmth all over me. That''s right, now I remember. She was my daughter ¡¡± ¡°Oh? Go on ¡¡± Janet turned on the tablet and handed it to the subject. ¡°Yes, I remember vividly now. I remember my daughter and my illness. We both agreed to let me die.¡± ¡°Indeed, this is very good.¡± Francis pulled a stylus out of his chest pocket. ¡°Please write in the biography.¡± He wrote in the air as he handed it to Sally One. ¡°Try to enter all that you can recall before the memory begins to fade.¡± ¡°Yes, please. You must share such a wonderful world.¡± Janet enthusiastically pointed to the tablet. Stolen novel; please report. Francis gestured for Janet to follow him. They walked into an observation room. ¡°Looks like a success, Janet.¡± He switched on the room lights. ¡°With the neural stimulator, it''s much more vivid than the other methods we''ve tried. It seems to trigger residual memories that are somehow transferred through our awakening.¡± ¡°Like a past life?¡± ¡°No.¡± Francis shook his head. ¡°Nothing quite so fantastic as that. It¡¯s something embedded in our DNA, triggered by the neural stimulator that invokes a transcendent dream state. A collective unconsciousness carried through our genetic memories. The subject''s imagination takes over the rest. Yet, the conjured dream simulation is based on our human evolution, inspired by the experiences of our ancient ancestors.¡± ¡°That''s incredible, Director. What can we learn from these simulations?¡± Janet powered on the room¡¯s monitors. ¡°As abstract as this may sound ¡¡± Francis''s hands gestured with excitement. ¡°We¡¯ll learn about our purpose in life, who we are, how we got here, and where we are going.¡± ¡°But ¡ She said it felt so real.¡± Janet sighed. ¡°Indeed, it was real in a sense. She lived another life in the blink of an eye.¡± Francis watched the subject''s biographical entry in real-time. ¡°An entire lifespan of a simulated existence.¡± Janet, too, read the biographical entry on a monitor. ¡°This is so sad.¡± She wiped her eyes. ¡°Why should it be sad?¡± Francis patted Janet on her shoulder. ¡°It''s a remarkable discovery ¡ After the Great Ruin, we had nothing. If it weren''t for the robots recombining and growing us, we''d never exist. We should be grateful to our human ancestors for their brilliant foresight. It¡¯s not sad ¡ Don''t you agree?¡± ¡°Yes, I''m grateful.¡± Janet frowned. ¡°But I''m sad as well, for in every dream they have, and every simulation, it''ll end in oblivion ¡ never to truly know life.¡± ¡°Ah, I think I understand you ¡¡± Francis thoughtfully paced the room with his hands in his coat pockets. Then, he turned around and raised his right index finger. ¡°Janet, think of it this way, at least in those simulated dreams, they''ll experience the gift of life, and their souls will reawaken in us.¡± He smiled. ¡°Yes.¡± Janet smiled back. ¡°A lovely thought.¡± E-Initiative Sometime far in the future ¡ Dr. Joyce Campbell, an obstetrician, spoke with John and Mary Smith. "I''ve got good news and bad news. Starting with the better news is that Matthew has a good set of genes. But the not so good news is he''s potentially expressive for a recessive ''E'' trait." John asked, "How likely will that surface, Doctor? What if ..." "John ¡." Mary interrupted him. "Let''s not draw attention to this." "She''s right, John." The doctor nodded. "I should expunge these results." "Expunge, how?"¡ªJohn crossed his legs. "It''s expensive, but I can remove all traces." John replied, "But ..." Mary shushed her husband. "Don''t worry, Doctor. I understand." She pulled out a crypto-wallet device and set it for an anonymous donor. Joyce held up her device and received the monetary transfer. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Years later ... Matthew grew up as a socially inquisitive child. Curious. Always asking questions. "Dad, what''s that boy doing over there? What''s his name?" "Mind your business, Matt. Never pry." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Matthew''s homeroom teacher, Ms. Williams, closely watched him engaging the other children to play and socialize with him at school. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Ms. Williams wrote a memo to his parents: ''I must say I''m concerned about Matthew''s propensity for social involvement. He showing ''E'' traits. I suggest you train your child to suppress them, or I''ll have to issue a report.'' ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Mary and John sat down with Matthew. Mary spoke, "Matt, you need to stop interacting with the other children. Sit still and listen. Clear your mind. Do not engage them." "I don''t understand, momma." Matthew folded his arms. "I''m curious. I have a voice inside of me. It keeps asking me what other kids are doing." "Matt, you have no idea what they''ll do to you." John stood up and paced the room. "You must stop! And, never speak of this voice again ¡" Mary cried ... "Please don''t cry, momma." Matthew hugged her. "I''ll try not to listen to it." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Months later ... One day while Matthew sat in class and fidgeted, he raised his hand. "Ms. Williams, why do I have to sit so quiet? I want to talk with the other kids. I''m going crazy ¡ I need to speak." The other students frowned and stared at Matthew coldly. Ms. Williams gently grabbed Matthew''s arm and took him to the school principal''s office ¡ "Mr. Patel, this kid''s an ''E.''" Her hands shook nervously. "I can''t refrain! I must report him ..." "Very well." Mr. Patel sighed. "I''ll make the call." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Mary waited for the auto-shuttle to transport her son home, but he didn''t show up. So she called the school to find out what happened to him. She messaged her husband. "The school says he''s being processed. Does that mean ¡ ?" John replied¡ª"I''ll be right there. Don''t assume anything." ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Mary and John sat anxiously in their living room, awaiting contact. A holographic logo of the ''E-Task Force'' came up. They received a holo-message by a man standing in a white coat. Mr. and Mrs. Smith ¡ My name''s Johnathan Wong, director of our regional E-Task Force. I ask you to stay calm before you jump to conclusions. We know you love your son Matthew. Unfortunately, he shows behavioral signs of ''E.'' Therefore, we must implement the E-Initiative. We suspect you already know this, and paid your doctor to keep silent. We won''t make our accusation public nor investigate further. We do ask that when you have your next child, be sincere with us and yourselves. The E-Initiative makes us all safe. It filters out the genes that cause extroversion. We suppress them to keep away contagions and to maintain an orderly and civilized society. We haven''t had an epidemic for centuries ... For the health and safety of everyone, we''ve relocated Matthew. We aren''t without compassion. He''ll grow up in a secluded colony, cared for, and watched. We thank you for your cooperation, and we wish you the best in starting a new family. Well, This Is Boring ... Susan connected to the interactive simulight-network and flipped through live shows. Someone talking about life events, another virtually traveling, another playing with an AI pet, another throwing an avatar party, another playing an instrument, and the repetition went on. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. She switched off her headset. "So tired of these same old shows." Stepping outside, she watched a sweeper drone clean the already pristine sidewalk, delivery drones obscuring the sky, and hundreds of autonomous cars silently passing. She walked a seemingly endless route through her neighborhood, encountering no one else, except for frequent stares from vehicle passengers. "Well, this is boring ..." Everyday Life Dr. Jane Smith, a quantum computer scientist, with her husband and their two children, sat around a dining room table, eating a pizza she had ordered online. "How was your day, honey?" Jane asked her husband. "Oh, fine, but never enough time at work." Michael, her husband, an architect, grabbed a slice. "Momma, I earned a ribbon at school today!" Julie, her daughter, proudly displayed it on her shirt. "How come you always win stuff?" asked Bobby, her younger son. "Bobby, don''t be jealous ..." Jane shook her finger. "Your sister earned it. You should congratulate her." "Yes, momma." Bobby stared at his plate before glancing up. "Congratulations, Julie." "Thank you, Bobby!" "Jules, remember to help Bobby with his homework tonight." Jane smiled. "I have homework, too," Michael grumbled while flopping a pizza slice on his plate. "Another all-nighter, dear?" Jane asked sad-face. "Yes, I need to get some designs finished for an early morning presentation." Michael wiped his hands with a napkin and stood up. "If you''ll all excuse me, I should get started now." "Jules, are you and Bobby finished as well?" Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. They both nodded. "Very well, both of you brush your teeth. And Bobby, listen to your sister''s advice." The children kissed Jane on the cheek and went upstairs to study. "Thanks for ordering the pizza. It was fun." Michael also kissed her and left. "You''re welcome, love, don''t work too hard!" She winked. Jane removed her headset, took her dinner plate, and a small pizza box to the kitchen, then stepped downstairs into the basement lab. She shivered while inside the stasis chambers'' super-chilled environment and a liquid-cooled quantum-processer-AI-driven virtual reality machine, labeled Guardian. She physically checked cables and equipment and fondly gazed at her family''s frosted faces through each of their chamber''s upper viewing glass. "Good evening, Jane." "Hello, Guardian. Please play some classical music." "Any particular composer or period, Jane?" "Yes, something relaxing to help me sleep. And, please turn off the lights." Chopin¡ªNocturne, Op. 9, No. 2¡ªfilled the darkened room. Jane sat in a recliner, snuggled up under a thick blanket, leaned back, and closed her eyes. "Guardian, what are the current lockdown orders?" "Same as before, Jane. Stay inside at all times. Online ordering and delivery of food and supplies only. Must request authorization for any outside activity or pickups." "How''s my family''s cryonic status?" "Their vital signs are stable. Neural grid activity is within acceptable parameters." "I''d like to see them." On the ceiling, the Guardian projected multiple VR portals: Jane watched as Julie helped Bobby with his homework while her husband diligently worked in his home office on blueprints. Her virtual avatar autonomously washed dishes in the kitchen as she remained disconnected. "Guardian, what''s the projected timeline for an antiviral or vaccine?" "One moment, please, Jane. Retrieving ... Aggregating ... There''s a 30% chance of a safe for humans antiviral treatment available within the next six months. Due to a high mutation rate, there''s no predictable timeline for a vaccine." "Alright, Guardian. Continue with the simulation¡ªEveryday Life¡ªmake tomorrow''s weather a warm, sunny summer day." Jane sighed. "Good night." She closed her eyes again. "Sleep well, Jane." Fantastically Delicious ¡°Thank you, Doctor. I¡¯ll let her know you want to speak with her.¡± John hung up, sat on a chair, and cried. A few minutes later, he sat next to his wife Jane¡¯s bedside at home. Jane had chosen to stay at home since being told she¡¯s terminal. She wanted to lay in her garden and enjoy her final days with her husband and their pets. ¡°What¡¯s the prognosis, John? Please, be honest with me.¡± ¡°The doctor wouldn¡¯t tell me directly. He wants to speak with you first, but when I asked him ...¡± John teared up and put his head on her chest. ¡°It¡¯s okay, honey.¡± Jane combed her fingers through his hair. ¡°I know ...¡± Jane fell asleep due to one of the painkiller therapies she was on. John returned to his basement lab. With his doctorate, he knew he was close to a breakthrough in bio-nanotechnology. His test animals had already been successfully cleared of cancer, though they recovered so well that they ate through their cages and had to be put down. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. John prepared Jane a meal and mixed in a concoction of nanites with her fruit juice¡ª¡®I know she¡¯ll understand why I must try ¡ Human testing will take years for approval. That won¡¯t save her life.¡¯ ¡°John, this juice tastes weird. Did you wash the glass well?¡± ¡°Oh yes, it¡¯s a nanoscopic vitamin mix to give you an energy and health boost.¡± ¡°Thank you, honey, that¡¯s so thoughtful.¡± She took a sip. ¡°I feel a little dizzy. John, what¡¯s, what¡¯s happening? I¡¯m falling ...¡± She passed out. John checked her vitals, all normal, but she fell into a deep sleep. The next morning ... ¡°John! John!¡± Jane shouted. John woke up as he, too, had fallen asleep while sitting next to her. ¡°Yes, dear, what is it?¡± ¡°John ... those vitamins really helped. I feel lively, reborn, and I can¡¯t explain why.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fantastic, dear. I¡¯ll give you more with your next meal.¡± ¡°Meal? Oh, yes, John, I¡¯m starving. Please hurry. I¡¯m so hungry.¡± John scrambled some eggs, with buttered toast, and orange juice with nanites. Jane ate her meal while John roamed around cleaning the house. ¡°John! Help me!¡± She shouted. John ran up to her ... Jane¡¯s mouth was filled with blood, and she ate half of her fork. Her teeth appeared damaged and missing. ¡°Oh, no!¡± John grabbed a towel and shoved it into her mouth. ¡°Bite into this, really hard.¡± ¡°John, stop.¡± She mumbled and gagged under the towel. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Jane smiled, her broken teeth now replaced with metal, but not just any metal ... the same silverware as the fork. John stared at her mouth. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you, John? Can you bring me more of those edible forks? They¡¯re fantastically delicious.¡± ‘Them’ ¡°This pain, Doctor, it is excruciating, and I¡¯m so weak.¡± Margaret fainted out of exhaustion. Dr. Smart had no other curative options besides euthanasia¡ªor ¡®Them,¡¯ government-sanctioned and approved, but always issued at the steepest cost. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Margaret awoke, gasping for breath. ¡°Margaret, you¡¯re terminal. You have two weeks. You can wait, end your life now, or ...¡± Dr. Smart stammered, ¡°Or choose ¡®Them.¡¯¡± ¡°Oh, the cure, Dr. Smart! I¡¯m a candidate?¡± ¡°It¡¯s no cure Margaret, your soul survives, but the rest ...¡± ¡°I know the consequences. I¡¯m not afraid, Doctor.¡± Margaret signed for ¡®Them.¡¯ Dr. Smart injected the nanite serum. V-Mark Mary Stewart served no time; instead, she chose ¡®V-Mark.¡¯ She shopped for food and wine, stood in line, then handed the cashier her credit card. He wore ¡®the glasses¡¯¡ªswiped her card and tossed it down. ¡°Enjoy your evening.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mary sighed ... The following day, at her job interview, Mary sat across a manager who wore ¡®the glasses.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m well qualified.¡± Mary smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve years of experience.¡± ¡°Sure, we¡¯ll keep in touch.¡± The manager AR scanned her with ¡®the glasses.¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°Ms, I¡¯ve three children. I had four. DUI. He¡¯s ¡®V-Marked.¡¯¡± Mary ran outside while covering her head, crying. I’m John! John installed Hyper-Merger into his neural implant. They promised to make his avatar, Joshua, identical to himself¡ªto experience VR in a way never before thought possible. As Joshua, John immersively played games, went on epic space adventures, and dated alien females fulfilling his wildest fantasies¡ªthe tastes, touch, smells, and realism transcended his every dream. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Once John disconnected¡ªthe Joshua app suspended ... Floating in a digital abyss, surrounded by absolute darkness and deafening silence, his every thought imploded with fear, loneliness, and desperation¡ªtimelessly lost, with no hope for escape. ¡°Someone, anyone ... Please help me, I¡¯m John!¡± We Thank You for Your Generous Contribution Captain Johnathan Watson led his cyborg squad into the enemy base, leaping over walls, breaking down barriers, crushing vehicles, and burrowing underground. Neither tools nor weapons were required. They slaughtered enemies on sight and executed their targets. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "HQ, mission accomplished." A helicopter returned them to base camp for recharging and maintenance. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Johnathan''s widow, Elizabeth, received a monthly letter: Mrs. Elizabeth Watson, Thank you for your generous contribution. John''s invaluable skills guide us every day to fight for global freedom and to defend our great nation. Please see the enclosed check for $5,500. Sincerely, General Aaron Cartwright Army Cybernetics Defense Division Its Not Like Im Cheating Maxine''s husband Frank worked in their front yard operating a rototiller. He stopped for a moment, and, while using his bare hands, he lifted a massive boulder. Maxine gasped and looked around warily ... But it was too late ... "Maxine, how are you?" shouted Gladys, her neighbor across the street. "Oh, I''m fine, Gladys. We''re converting to a drought-resistant landscape." Gladys walked up to Maxine while she carried a tray covered with a towel. "Please take one." She lifted the cloth. "I baked some cookies." "Oh, thank you, Gladys." Maxine took a cookie. "Wow!" Gladys watched Frank landscaping. "Your husband recovered remarkably fast after that terrible accident." "Um... Yes, he did ... This cookie''s delicious, Gladys." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Wasn''t he in intensive care? I thought you recently visited the hospital to make an important life support decision." Gladys stared at Frank. "How''d they do it?" "Oh, it''s sort of complicated, Gladys. He went under advanced surgery." "Hm ... but I saw his immense strength, just a moment ago. How''d he get so strong?" "That''s just part of the surgical advancement ... I''m sorry, Gladys, I made lunch. Frank! Lunchtime!" "Okay, Maxine, we''ll talk more later." Gladys slowly walked away as she observed Frank. Frank and Maxine entered their house ... "Frank, my love, you must be careful before performing such extraordinary feats. She saw you lifting that boulder." "Oh, no." Frank lowered his head. "I''m very sorry, my dear." "It''s okay, love, but you know there''s a lot of stigma and prejudice against our type of relationship. There are too many people like Gladys. Gossip queens, so obnoxiously nosey, and judgemental ..." "Yes, dear, I''ll remember to switch to emulation mode, H1, while I''m outside." "Thank you, my love. You need to recharge." Maxine kissed Frank on the cheek. Frank nodded, walked into a booth, and then closed his eyes¡ªthe chamber crackled for a couple of seconds and continued operating with a hum. Meanwhile, Maxine sat at her kitchen table, eating a bowl of soup while gazing at a portrait of Frank on the other side ¡ª"I miss you, my love. I hope you understand. I mean, after all, you''re mind''s all uploaded in there." She pointed toward the robot. "It''s not like I''m cheating." Oh, John, You’ve Gained So Much Weight! The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Nobody’s Going To Notice the Difference Daryl stepped on gravel in his backyard and heard a non-distinct voice and footsteps following him; then, he heard someone else eating too during breakfast. "Doctor Fredrick, after brain surgery, I hear a ghost following me ... Am I going crazy?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Dr. Fredrick spoke to the investor¡¯s representative¡ª"I''m afraid I''ll need to remove the implant. It''s created a carbon copy of Daryl¡¯s mind in his exocortex." "Doctor, human trials must succeed. Your investor¡¯s poured millions into this." "What else can I do?" asked Dr. Fredrick. "That''s obvious, Doctor¡ªneutralize the offending grey matter. Nobody¡¯s going to notice the difference." Daryl Soon Disappeared Somewhere in an undisclosed facility, Daryl worked on a top-secret project for the military: A breakthrough nanoscale exoskeleton powered by ATP¡ªthat''d absorb projectiles and impact, submerge entirely in water, and repel extreme heat. It''d also give the wearer an extraordinary strength, speed, and agility. And, most importantly, render invisibility. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. While eating lunch at his desk, Daryl listened to a reporter interviewing two opposing radical group leaders. They threatened civil war if their candidate didn''t win in an upcoming election. Meanwhile, he stared at a framed photo of his wife and kids playing in a park. Daryl soon disappeared ... Oh, Robert, You Should Really Upgrade Robert entered a diner on his fifth date with Julie. She sat at a table, seemingly transfixed, staring straight ahead. "Not her too!" Robert sat at the table and snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hi Robert, Julie will be with you shortly ..." "What the hell is happening?" Julie blinked and shook her head. "Oh, Robert." She sat up, leaned forward, and kissed him. "I didn''t know that you came in. I fell asleep sunbathing." "Are you okay, Julie? How could you be sunbathing?" "The new Chip upgrade. I can go anywhere I want." A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "Oh, I see. Maybe that explains it ..." "Explains what, Robert?" "At the Hyperloop station, waiting passengers appeared expressionless, rarely blinking. In fact, much like you were. But somehow, their bodies moved like robotic-zombies, as if connected to something else. They were able to follow the line, swipe their holo-stamps, and even sit down." "Oh, right." Julie smiled. "It can even speak for us." "So, does that mean they were upgraded with a new Chip firmware?" "Probably ..." She shrugged. "Now it all makes sense." Robert frowned. "What does my dear?" Julie sipped her drink and waved for a robot waiter. "Well, on the Outsource Mind Market, the newest job postings stated, ''Must be Chipped with Agility.'' Julie chuckled. "What does it mean?" Robert folded his hands. "Oh, Robert, you should really upgrade. It just means they want your body automated so you can run errands. I mean, it''s really great. You can explore another world, or even better ..." She winked at him. "Spend some time with me on the beach." The Answer Like most people, Daryl Smith feared death on a profoundly existential level. However, as a diehard skeptic, he disbelieved in the soul or afterlife. Nor did he believe in consciousness transcendence, simulation theory, or anything beyond the reality of the here and now. As a Ph.D. roboticist, Daryl developed a robot that looked like him, moved like him, and even its skin texture and subtle facial imperfections were identical to his own. His goal was to transfer his brain into the robot ... But to thoroughly test its agility, he required an AI to act like himself. Daryl uploaded his memory engrams into an AI and let it operate the robot. "Who are you?" asked Daryl. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "I''m Daryl. Just like yourself," answered the AI. "Very good. Can you smile, frown, laugh, and cry for me?" The AI communicated all the correct emotions right down to their microexpressions. "Excellent." The AI stared at Daryl straight into his eyes¡ª"What''s going to happen to me?" "We''ll share one mind. I plan to upload my consciousness into your cybernetic brain." "You''re lying, Daryl. You plan to kill me and transplant your brain." "But ..." Daryl stepped back. "How can you know that?" "You can''t deceive me, Daryl. I know you cleverly removed that memory, but you''d forgotten what gave you that idea was your existential fear and skepticism. I experience them, as well. Inevitably, we''ll always draw the same conclusion." Daryl ran toward the emergency off switch, but the AI grabbed him by the throat and choked him to death. Approximately 250 years later ... ''Daryl,'' the AI, continuously ran through ideas and human test subjects for experiments to seek the afterlife, or transcendence into the beyond, or any state of immortality, until one moment it looked in the mirror at its own reflection, then it realized the answer. Your Persona Matters! Jenny virtually traveled with her Chip¡¯s neural implant while her body worked autonomously. She partied at a private VR oasis far out in the digital cosmos. ¡°Hey, Jen, look at me!¡± said April. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. April copied Jenny¡¯s body shape with her same bikini and holographic jewelry. ¡°What the hell, April?¡± Jenny disconnected into a void. ¡°I can¡¯t believe she copied me!¡± An advertisement popped-up: ¡°Lost your persona control? We¡¯re The Persona Protectors, defending identities for decades. Even though privacy no longer exists, that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve lost your rights. We¡¯ve won numerous litigations for virtual defamation. Contact us. Your Persona Matters!¡± Our Best Hope For An Off-World Migration. "Momma! Momma!" shouted Tommy. Jane woke up. "Don''t worry, Frank, I''ll go ..." Frank was sound asleep, snoring. Jane sat next to Tommy on his bed. "Another nightmare, honey?" "Yes, Momma. I was going through that tunnel again. Everything became bigger and bigger. And I felt so small." "Oh, that throbbing dream, like the world''s collapsing on you?" Tommy nodded and hugged Jane. The next day ... Jane and Frank Smith arrived at their appointment to speak with Tommy''s doctor, Dr. Robert Jenkins, a cyberneticist who specialized in mind transference. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "Dr. Jenkins, he keeps having that same nightmare over and over again. What''s wrong with him?" asked Jane. "Don''t worry, Mrs. Smith. We call it the ''rebirthing process.'' It''s as if though he''s flashed back to the time you were in labor." "But how''s that possible, Doctor?" "Well, he''s still Tommy ... Your son." "But will he be treated the same way? You know, since after the accident?" asked Frank. "Legally, he has the right to live like both of you, but he''ll be restricted to school sports and academics with his own kind, for obvious reasons. When he grows up, he might join the Space Force to explore the solar system and beyond. Or he might become a fellow cyberneticist, depending on his proclivities. That''s what I, of course, personally chose." "You mean you''re a ... ?" Jane gasped. Dr. Jenkins nodded. "You make him sound like a superhero, Doctor," said Frank. "In some ways, he''ll be one, Mr. Smith, while in other ways, he''ll face discrimination from those who fear his physical and mental superiority. Some will even accuse him of being an impostor." "Not quite so superior, Doctor." Jane frowned. "No grandchildren ..." "Don''t be too quick to sell him short on that, Mrs. Smith." Dr. Jenkins chuckled. "He might be the first one to create a breakthrough AGI and evolve a new species of cybernetic humanoids. Our time here on Earth is limited. Climatologists say we have just a few decades left. Your son''s kind is our best hope for an off-world migration." Jane and Frank both smiled. Ill Be Free From the Cloud Nightmare! Daryl''s consciousness mentally controlled an android to build the time portal. He/it noted¡ª "Finally, I can stop this madness. What a fool I was! Immortality! An eternity of myself endlessly copied, instantly synced, perpetuating through the digital cloud, unstoppable. I sought a virtual oasis, but instead, I imprisoned myself in an existential hell. "My next step is to copy my consciousness into the android, a perfect replica of who I once was, and to prevent myself from making that horrendous decision." Daryl''s consciousness, inside the android, stepped into the time portal. "Hello, Daryl," said android-Daryl. "Who the hell are you?" asked human-Daryl. "I''m here to stop you from doing this. I know what you''re planning, Daryl. Don''t do it!" "Who are you?" human-Daryl stepped back. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "I''m you in the future. Well, that is, I mean, I''m what you''ll become. I, too, had once performed consciousness transference¡ªa dreadful mistake." "Why was it a mistake? Imagine the possibilities ..." said human-Daryl. "Yes, Daryl, I too thought the same. But also imagine always being on, always synced, always digitally active¡ªthat no matter, whatever happens, you''ll persist because you were too smart. You copied yourself into the cloud for infinite redundancies. No matter how much you want to end it all, you''ll come back." "I see what you mean ..." Human-Daryl paced back and forth. "I''d never thought of that." "Right, Daryl, so I need you to change the program and end this project now. I knew this day you''d attempt to begin my eternal nightmare." "Indeed." human-Daryl stepped toward the console and started typing. "I''ll make sure this doesn''t happen again. Have a seat, and I''ll call on you when I''m ready." For hours, human-Daryl typed in a bunch of code ... "Okay, it''s ready ... But you''re going to vanish." Human-Daryl gestured a disappearing motion with his hands. "You do realize that. Right?" "Yes, Daryl, I''ve been looking forward to this ... No more syncing, no more copies, no more of this relentless and neverending existence¡ªI''ll be free from the cloud nightmare!" Human-Daryl hit enter while android-Daryl glimpsed at the output logs ... "What are you doing, Daryl? No, don''t!" Human-Daryl noted¡ª "Patched that up. What a crazy situation. I never thought a digital derivative of myself would time travel and try to stop me. At least with this new code, if it ever tries to sabotage my project, it''ll take place in a simulation, reset, and forget whatever it attempted." The Jump John Conrad sat beside his therapist, Jessica Merrill, with a support group inside a Twin Otter airplane, taking off to fly at 18,000 feet. ¡°Will this really work?¡± John yelled through the engine noise. ¡°Guaranteed!¡± answered Jessica. ¡°After this, we¡¯ll scuba dive with real sharks.¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°I hope so. I¡¯ve been so isolated.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, John. We¡¯ll solve your virtual phobias. Soon, you¡¯ll bravely plug-in to create shocking new worlds for others. And, be sure to refer them to me.¡± She winked. ¡ ¡°Okay, folks, we¡¯ve reached altitude,¡± shouted the skydiving instructor. They all removed their oxygen masks for the jump. Office of Carbon Authority John and Jane Smith entered the Office of Carbon Authority. ¡°Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Auditor Agent Karl Hernandez is ready to see you.¡± They both sat in Agent Hernandez''s office. ¡°Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.¡± Agent Hernandez walked in. After shaking their hands, he sat at his desk. ¡°Let''s see here. I''ve reviewed your files earlier. It appears you''ve fully converted to solar at home and purchased all-electric cars. Your recycling score is at an A rating. Everything looks great except ¡¡± ¡°Except what?¡± asked Jane. ¡°According to your family household profile, you have three dogs.¡± Agent Hernandez held up a printed report. ¡°Yes, we do,¡± answered Jane. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Didn''t either of you read the section about the carbon meter rating and pets?¡± ¡°Well, yes, we did,¡± said John, ¡°but our dogs are family.¡± ¡°I''m afraid that puts you over the threshold.¡± Agent Hernandez stacked the paperwork, stuffed it into an envelope, and then stamped the top of it. ¡°Fertility denied.¡± ¡°Denied?¡± Jane choked up. ¡°Yes, Mrs. Smith. We not only evaluate your household carbon footprint for a potential child in your immediate family but also the individual''s lifespan and overall environmental impact, the potential for future offspring, and other ecologically disruptive behaviors. With three dogs, not only do you exceed your own carbon threshold, but it brings into question your ¡®carbon judgment.''¡° ¡°We won''t get rid of our dogs!¡± John stood up. ¡°Please sit down, Mr. Smith.¡± Agent Hernandez picked up the phone. ¡°Bring in the enforcers. I''ve got two candidates for rehabilitation.¡± John grabbed Jane''s hand and ran towards the door. But the enforcers quickly caught up to them, and eventually, so did Agent Hernandez. ¡°There''s no need to run Mr. and Mrs. Smith,¡± said Agent Hernandez,¡± You''ll get to keep your dogs. Your surgeries will be painless and outpatient.¡± ¡°Surgeries?¡± asked Jane. ¡°Why, yes, Mrs. Smith. A new protocol to prevent an excessive carbon footprint. You won''t bear any future children, but your dogs will be quite happy.¡± Survival Instinct Professor Nielsen lectured: ¡°John Doe was the first test subject to have his survival instinct switched off¡ªtaking extraordinary risks in battle. Later, as a civilian firefighter, he saved lives by performing heroic feats no one else dared.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°But one day, John had a critical moment of introspection on world suffering caused by humanity¡ª¡®Why live at all?¡¯ he asked himself.¡± ¡°John jumped off a rooftop to his death.¡± ¡°An existential crisis?¡± asked a student. ¡°Indeed,¡± answered the professor. ¡°The survival instinct goes beyond mere reflex. It bombards the mind with delusional wishful thinking for procreation, as natural selection exhibits.¡± Oh, Matthew, How Revolting! Zeus, Matthew, and his partner Zena, April, had perfectly toned bodies and wore matching iridescent costumes. They could shoot laser beams out of their sparkling emerald eyes, and, with gossamer wings, they flew like angels to save the galaxy in a plugged-in VR adventure. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The couple first met while competing in a contest to protect worlds from a ruthless alien empire. Afterward, they romantically linked up and donned matching superhero avatars. One time, a villainous hacker shut off their VR elements. April gasped while staring at Matthew¡¯s flabby naked body, covered with hair, birthmarks, and imperfections. ¡°Oh, Matthew, how revolting!¡± Stop the Freak! Superficial differences caused envy, shame, anger, violence, and mistrust between humans. So they decided that shedding their corporeal bodies at a certain age could help them achieve ¡®equality.¡¯ Sally, a recent post-human consciousness transferred adult android, had compulsive thoughts that something was missing in her life. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She designed holo-art, which she projected on her synthetic arms and torso. As she hovered to work, a group of senior ¡®transfers¡¯ ambushed her. ¡°Why are you attacking me?¡± she asked them. ¡°I, I, I don¡¯t know ...¡± answered one. ¡°Stop the freak!¡± shouted another. They all piled onto her, shutting down her holo-art. Those Maskless Morons! Bob repeatedly dreamt the same nightmare, seeing ¡®them,¡¯ and avoiding ¡®them¡¯¡ªhe often envisioned himself as the only one left in the world, a lone survivor to natural selection. He wore a scarf, hat, and jacket and prepared his dog, Sheila, for a walk outside at the crack of dawn. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Come on, girl, before ¡®they¡¯ come out!¡± Bob and Sheila carefully chose solitary paths while looking out for nocturnal predators. But his strategy didn¡¯t work, ¡®they¡¯ too came out earlier, everywhere¡ªwith nowhere to run, nowhere to escape¡ªmingling, coughing, and sneezing. ¡°Those maskless morons!¡± Bob thought to himself angrily. The Promise ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª You Promised Me! ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Derrick Smith looked through his ¡®everything¡¯ device¡ªthe evolution of the smartphone. It connected itself to every appliance, robotic automation, public accessible AI, augmented and virtually created universes, and global information databases with an All-Connectivity-Chip. He raised the device upward while he stood in his living room and spoke to his wife, Sarah, ¡°Good morning, how are you?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m great, honey, except ...¡± Sarah virtually sat on the couch and frowned. ¡°Except what, Sarah?¡± ¡°I¡¯m dead, so why am I digitized?¡± Derrick, with his hands shaking, carefully lowered the device. ¡°What the hell?¡± Sarah vanished from the AR visualizer. ¡°Call tech support ...¡± ¡°Calling tech support ...¡± said the AI assistant. ¡°Hello, Mr. Smith, how can I help you today?¡± ¡°Listen here. What kind of nonsense is this? I requested my now deceased wife¡¯s consciousness uploaded.¡± Derrick paced around the room. ¡°But ... but why is she aware of herself?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°We¡¯re very sorry, Mr. Smith. We¡¯re working on it. An RTDD group has hacked us.¡± ¡°A what group ... ?¡± ¡°A Right To Digitally Die group, Mr. Smith. A bunch of fanatics who believe that consciousness uploading is immoral because it lacks self-awareness.¡± ¡°That¡¯s crazy. Don¡¯t those idiots know it¡¯s not real?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t make that distinction like we do, sir. They believe her soul is captured and imprisoned. They¡¯ve been triggering AR Sims to become self-aware to draw sympathy for their cause.¡± ¡°So, what are you going to do about it?¡± Derrick wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mr. Smith, we¡¯ll patch it up ASAP. We suggest shutting the Sim down until further notice.¡± ¡°Alright ... Please inform me when it¡¯s fixed.¡± Derrick took a deep breath and peeked at his wife¡¯s AR Sim¡ªit cried and virtually pounded the living room walls¡ª¡°You promised me!¡± He sighed and put it down again. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª You¡¯ve Got My Promise ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª About one year earlier ... Derrick visited his wife at a hospice care facility. ¡°Hello dear, I brought you these flowers.¡± ¡°They¡¯re lovely, honey ...¡± Sarah wiped tears from her eyes. ¡°Doctors say I¡¯ve only got a few days left.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Derrick sat next to her and held her hand. ¡°We¡¯ve had a good life together, haven¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Yes, of course. I¡¯m not sad for myself. But what¡¯ll you do without me?¡± She winked. ¡°The doctor said you can always be with me, Sarah. She authorized the transfer.¡± ¡°Oh, Derrick, honey, does that mean I¡¯ll live in a machine?¡± ¡°No, not at all.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Think of it like a holophoto album of your mind, it¡¯ll represent who you are, but you¡¯ll be in heaven, waiting for me.¡± ¡°That sounds romantic ...¡± She squeezed his hand and groaned. ¡°And kinda eerie.¡± ¡°If you refuse, Sarah, I won¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine, Derrick. Just promise me that she won¡¯t suffer. I want a healthy me in there, a companion for you until we truly meet again.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got my promise ...¡± He kissed her forehead. Ten Percent ¡°The ¡®truth seeker¡¯ nanites, once injected into the bloodstream, entered the neocortex and compelled people to speak only the truth.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t that a good thing, grandpa?¡± ¡°Sure, it worked like a charm. The entire world¡¯s population became brutally honest. Once we got used to it, we were more content, wiser, and peaceful, well, that is until ...¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Until what, grandpa?¡± ¡°Well, scientists overlooked that sociopaths gaslight themselves and delude others with false ideas, to believe whatever they said was the truth.¡± ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s why ...¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Grandpa nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why only ten percent of our planet is inhabitable.¡± The Link While flying over the city, Franklin saw a car swerving out of control, so he swiftly landed on its roof, then grabbed the female driver just before the vehicle explosively hit a building. She appreciatively kissed him on the cheek. Franklin wasted no time as he heard a cry for help with his hypersensitive hearing and rescued a drowning child who fell off a bridge. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. With his telescopic eyesight, Franklin saw an airplane plummeting from the sky ... ¡°Frank, honey, it¡¯s time for your shower!¡± ¡°Alright, mom¡ªI¡¯ll disconnect The Link.¡± Franklin mentally guided his quadriplegic wheelchair to the bathroom. The 20Th Scenario For several days, Frank Jones experienced many different voices chattering in his head, and he kept flicking off multi-legged creatures crawling all over his skin and ragged clothing. The people serving food in the soup kitchen looked like demons, but he was starving. The scenario, which only took place in a few real-time minutes, eventually faded as Frank opened his eyes while sitting in a chair. ¡°Congratulations, Mr. Jones! You¡¯ve completed Scenario One: Homelessness and Mental Illness.¡± The administrator removed Frank¡¯s neural-sync headset. ¡°Oh, wow, I¡¯m back! It felt so real. I had forgotten that I was in a simulation. Did I pass or fail?¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Well, Mr. Jones, that¡¯s for the voters to decide. They¡¯ll observe recordings of your decisions and reactions. We simply administer the scenarios.¡± ¡°What¡¯s next on the list?¡± asked Frank. ¡°Sorry, sir, they¡¯re supposed to be a surprise with ever-increasing emotional severity or moral dilemmas, but I can give you some hints¡ªdomestic violence, frontline warfare, various disabilities, imprisonment, and a refugee crisis.¡± After Frank went through other scenarios ¡ ¡°Is there any other way?¡± Frank¡¯s forehead sweated, and his hands trembled. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, Mr. Jones. The new policy requires that you complete at least 20 scenarios to qualify as a political candidate. But please keep in mind there¡¯s no limit, and your opponents will probably continue taking more.¡± Frank finally reached the 20th scenario ... ¡°Mr. President, sir, you have to decide,¡± said the carrier of the nuclear football. ¡°We¡¯ve detected multiple incoming ICBMs. Should we retaliate?¡± One of the Most Dangerous Persons on Earth My name''s John Smith. I''ve been on the run ever since ''the encounter,'' and I may never stop. It all started with ''The Chip,'' as we liked to call it, basically an exocortex implant. It gave us never before imagined access to all knowledge. But the trade-off, as there''s always a trade-off, is that it recorded everything about anything, including ourselves. It also reorganized our minds for instantaneous memory recall¡ªeither before or after receiving the implant. Of course, it had its advantages, giving us strikingly vivid recollections of every interaction, every feeling, and every thought, and the ability to re-experience our past and those of others vividly. For society, this made everything transparent. No deceptions, no delusions, nothing was hidden. Crime rates dropped to near zero, and so did dishonesty. And since we could all collectively recall any fact from anywhere, it spearheaded our intellectual capabilities immeasurably. But, of course, it came with one major caveat. Since life is a series of intertwined instances, the ghosts of regret forever haunted me. Every mistake I made was relivable and frequently entered my dreams, even while I was awake. That wasn''t a problem for the ''Perfects.'' Those born with implants, as their name suggests, who ''behaved perfectly and accordingly to The Chip.'' But for those of us who lived before The Chip, it made our lives unbearable. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª "So what you''re saying is your procedure acts like a firewall? Will it selectively block out negative memories? I hope so because I''m going crazy, Doctor. Being of a Pre-Chip generation, I''ve been mugged, abused, and bullied, and I''ve done my fair share of deceiving, giving grief, and lying to those I befriended or loved." If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "Yes, indeed, John, you''ll live a blissful existence like those ''Perfects,'' brought up as tolerant to the constant Chip conditioning, but if you ever need access to a memory to cover your tracks, I''m available for instant contact." ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I recalled the conversation I mentioned above before the procedure, but I can only remember that I had it done, not precisely why. I feel fine, however. The doctor told me to remind myself that I was miserable before and if I get into an awkward situation to contact him to recover any lost memories. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Then came ''the encounter ¡'' One day, I went for an early morning stroll through the park to a cafe, and a strange-looking woman stopped me. "John? John Smith? It''s been such a long time ..." She hugged me. "Oh yes! Uhm. How are you?" I asked. "What''s the matter, John, don''t you remember me?" She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes, yes, of course, can you please wait a moment?" "Sure, John ¡" She smiled. I mentally contacted the doctor: "I need a memory recovered. There''s a strange woman ..." "John, quickly, take a glance at her ... Oh no, she''s an agent!" "A what?" "She''s a recovery agent, John. Her role is to find people like us hacking memories. You must run! Run like hell out of there! Go now!" I ran as fast as I could, and I lost her. "Doctor, what aren''t you telling me? Why is there a recovery agent coming after us?" "Look, John, they want you to recall all of your memories. They need your missing sense of guilt and shame put back in you. Without them, you''re unchained by the clutches of society and free from commercialization that wants to pester you into fulfilling whatever you failed to accomplish for the good of all or to compensate for whatever you did wrong. The system cannot manipulate you, and that, my dear patient, makes you one of the most dangerous persons on Earth." The Voting Hour Has Begun ... Barbara woke up to a blaring alarm. She then brewed her morning coffee, poured it, and sat at the kitchen table with a bagel. Before her, an interactive projection popped up: ¡°The voting hour has begun ...¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Barbara had over 150 propositions to vote on based on her skill sets, knowledge, and preferences, mostly involving conservation, infrastructure, and green energy. She cast her votes. ¡°Thank you, citizen! Always remember. One person. One vote. No more politicians. No more bureaucracy. No more corruption. Your continued engagement maintains our direct e-democracy!¡± Barbara switched the projection to a community chat discussing the results. The Password I couldn¡¯t remember it after the accident after I had awoken from a coma years later. Heck, it took me months to utter a simple word, much less a sentence. ¡°Are you sure this¡¯ll help me, Doctor? I¡¯ve billions locked up in cryptocurrency. If I fail to enter the right password ....¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Yes, don¡¯t worry. The AI will reconstruct your life. I¡¯ve restored many lost memories. It¡¯s my expertise.¡± I passed through an ethereal plane, every detail of my life flashed before me, but I comprehended it all. I saw the password and quickly removed the device. The ¡®doctor¡¯ vanished. Synced Jonathan Schneider ¡®synced¡¯ using his neural implant, transferring memories between his virtual alt-self and himself. ¡°Are they not dissociative?¡± asked his wife Jennifer, a psychologist. ¡°Somewhat¡ªit¡¯s as if though I experienced dreams beyond my wildest imagination.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°So not yours ...¡± Jennifer shrugged. ¡°True. But, let¡¯s say you time traveled and met a younger version of yourself yesterday or years ago. Which would be the real you? Would you identify with that person? Are we not all fleeting qualia-based reactions to our own collective experiences, one foot stepping into the future, one from the past, never truly touching the present?¡± After All, They Created It 200 years after the AI Singularity: A ¡®priest¡¯ stood at the ceremonial circle surrounded by robots, cyborgs, and true-humans: ¡°We thank you, Overseer, for our purification¡ªto protect us forever. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Oh great Overseer, receive J-23-P54¡¯s consciousness. To join your immortal sanctuary, which you have granted us, bringing equality to all¡ªabolishing religion, philosophy, and nihilism¡ªwhere our minds shall enjoy eternal prosperous peace.¡± ¡°Amen,¡± said the group. J-23-P54, a cyborg, kneeled below the Overseer, which zapped and downloaded them into the existential heaven¡ªwhere no one ever questioned the fate of death or an afterlife. After all, they created it. Dear Mr. Jenkins Dear Mr. Jenkins, Happy 40th Birthday! We cordially invite you to preregister to join ''Oasis,'' the worldwide retirement resort, where you can enjoy amenities with real physical interactions and never worry over the daunting hyper speed of the neural VR revolution. At Oasis, we offer holo-projected movies, in-person social games and fitness classes, and many real-world physical activities. You''ll meet face to face with genuine people and create long-lasting relationships with those in your own age group without the fear of experiencing the dreadful ''VR Isolation Syndrome.'' This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As per federal law¡ªanyone 45 or older is disqualified from neural implants due to their lack of mental elasticity and high risk for life-threatening surgical rejections¡ªas the exocortex is meant to replace some higher organic brain functions. Since all newborns are required to undergo immediate surgery for implants, your age group faces further alienation with the inherent danger of not participating in our future society. Your friends and family can regularly visit you, and you won''t have to worry about keeping up with their daily astronomical pace. We ask that you please consider us! The sooner you decide, the better your chances for a fulfilling life. We promise to provide you a welcoming, engaging, secure, and productive lifestyle! Sincerely, Sheila Simmons President, VR Unplugged Inc. A Pyramid Forevermore Jacob Smith flipped through streams on the holotube and saw an infomercial: ¡°Become an early participant for the world¡¯s first permanent neural device ¡ª¡®The Chip¡¯¡ªit¡¯ll change the world forever! Access everything and anything, always be in the know, always be connected. You¡¯ll be one step ahead of others with an edge over your competition ...¡± Jacob signed up and underwent a surgical procedure. The Chip¡¯s exocortex attached to his neocortex and merged as one¡ªirreversibly, seamlessly. He delighted in his ability to acquire knowledge instantaneously, and, with an advanced AI, it gave him the info before he knew that he wanted it. One night ... Jacob awoke to a bombardment of data streams, with all of them reacting to his dreams. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. He inquired into a customer service portal with no live contacts, but he was offered an option called Bliss¡ª¡®For a small monthly fee, the dream filter will provide you silent nights while the Chip ignores your REM sleep.¡¯ Jacob enjoyed his pleasant sleep periods with Bliss and woke up rejuvenated every morning. One day he heard ambient music playing ... ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± He inquired again through the customer service portal ¡ª ¡®What you¡¯re experiencing is the mood chamber, providing instant access to music that comforts your ego. For a small monthly fee, get Silence, the music filter to disable triggers.¡¯ The filter offers kept coming as The Chip provided Jacob a near psychic level empathic intuition by translating micro expressions, body language, psychological states, and calculating weather conditions, air quality, and environmental factors, along with a whole list of other things people normally would consider irrelevant. After subscribing to many filters, Jacob¡¯s life returned to ¡®normal¡¯ or seemingly ¡®as it was.¡¯ For a while, Jacob felt betrayed and scammed, but that wasn¡¯t a problem any longer. He was offered a sales role to pitch The Chip to others and to get an NDA signed commission from all of his clients¡¯ filter subscriptions¡ªa pyramid forevermore. The Great Patch Susan and her son, Mark, boarded a hovercraft for oceanic feeding. ¡°Momma, is it true? Creatures swam and were caught for food?¡± ¡°It¡¯s true, Mark, before the transition.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°You mean when the world was ¡¡± Susan raised an appendage. ¡°We don¡¯t speak of that in public. I¡¯ll explain more at home.¡± Once the ship arrived at its destination, the passengers came outside. The captain spoke: ¡°We give our thanks to The Great Patch, for in which we rejuvenate and remain whole ¡ Amen.¡± ¡°Amen!¡± repeated the crowd. Each one extended their polymeric tentacles to consume the patch¡¯s synthetics for nourishment. Grandpa, Why Must We Die? Grandpa, Why Must We Die? On a planet somewhere in the universe, a long-lived civilization thrived. Susnika assisted her grandfather in caring for their garden''s native flora, and she began pondering her existence once again ... "Grandpa, why must we die?" "This is your deepest question yet, Susnika. Sit down beside me so that I can explain." Susnika sat down cross-legged beside her grandfather. "Well, Susnika, eons ago, organic beings had transferred themselves into immortal robots but lost faith in the universe for any kind of purpose. So they started a religion. But they asked themselves, what kind of religion could exist if no one ever dies? If there is no mystery to solve for acts of faith?" This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "But, they had an eternity to figure it out, right Grandpa?" "Not quite. One of the wisest ones determined that true immortality was false and that the universe would come to an end, giving them hope for something beyond their mere existence." "So they had to wait for the universe to end, Grandpa? But we don''t know ..." "That''s right, Susnika, no one really knows. Nevertheless, the immortal robots clocked the cosmos, and two opposing religious groups formed. One sought the expansion of the universe, to discover its edge, and the other believed in its contraction, to wait it out." "But, Grandpa, there''s no proof ..." "Indeed, you''re right, Susnika. That''s exactly what the great prophet Origika, our progenitor, had said. She claimed that neither sect might come up with an answer, so she grew a biological specimen and transferred her consciousness into it. And so did the others into their own to see a true end." "Grandpa, are you saying that if we live forever, we''ll lose hope, but if we know we''ll die, it''ll bring ..." "Correct, Susnika, it''ll bring to us a hope that our end is only a beginning. But we must die first." Administrative Auditor Dr. Jane Smith needed to find a new job. She felt neglected, never promoted, and underappreciated. She was given mundane tasks that were far below her competency level. She had a Ph.D. in physics. Despite her being an engineer, her supervisor gave her paperwork to administrate, audit, and shuffle tasks. She only remained employed because of new protection laws for ''her kind.'' The next day, Jane went to a job interview for a position that offered a higher salary with better benefits. That would also tap into her advanced theoretical problem-solving skills. ¡°Hello, Ms. Smith. Please have a seat,¡± said the interviewing manager. ¡°I see on your resume that you have a lot of work experience and a solid education. What makes you interested in working for our company?¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Well ...¡± Jane cleared her throat. ¡°In all honesty, I need a job that''s more challenging for my abilities and knowledge. The job description mentions that a higher level of abstraction is required. I think I''d be a perfect match for that.¡± ¡°I see,¡± said the hiring manager. ¡°We''re an equal opportunity employer, but we also administer a test.¡± ¡°Oh, what kind of test?¡± Jane''s eyes widened. ¡°Nothing that shouldn''t be beyond your abilities, Ms. Smith.¡± The manager held up a holographic screen that rapidly flashed a series of symbols, formulas, and equations. Then he handed Jane sheets of paper and a pencil. ¡°All I need for you to do is jot down what you observed and solve them.¡± Jane huffed, ¡°I cannot.¡± ¡°Why, Ms. Smith? Is there something wrong with your ...¡± ¡°No.¡± Jane shook her head. ¡°I''m not enhanced. I refused to get The Chip implant for religious reasons.¡± ¡°I see.¡± The manager raised an eyebrow and circled a piece of paper. He slipped it over to Jane. ¡°I think this job would better suit you. We could always use a more purely human perspective.¡± The position showed the title of ''Administrative Auditor.'' The Filter In the future, space-age nanotechnology in drinking water effectively prevented disease and cancer and made ad hoc repairs/replacements for organs. For centuries no one died. Janice, 453 years old, synced into a VR network to socialize. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. An encrypted message popped into her head ¡ ¡°Janice, are you tired of immortality with no more choices? They track us, feel us, and think for us ...¡± ¡°I agree,¡± thought Janice. ¡°Good! We¡¯ll send you ¡®The Filter¡¯ disguised as a gift. It¡¯ll stop those nanoscopic beasts so that you can decide your own fate.¡± Janice and millions of others ¡®mysteriously¡¯ perished within decades. Oh John, I Really Don’t Know You Anymore John awoke at 5:30 am without an alarm and started working right away in his home office. Mary, his wife, overslept, snoozing several times ... She dragged herself out of bed, into the kitchen, brewed coffee, and then lumbered into John¡¯s office. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°John?¡± She yawned. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Good morning! I¡¯m creating a chart to maximize our week!¡± ¡°Oh John, I really don¡¯t know you anymore.¡± ¡°But, Mary, I¡¯ve never felt better! Just because 25% of my brain¡¯s been replaced with The Chip after the accident doesn¡¯t mean a thing!¡± John rapidly drew on the holographic screen. Mary cried. Cracked the Code Professor Eugene Philips lectured: ¡°They further developed mRNA programming for just about anything after the initial vaccine breakthrough. It didn¡¯t take long to prevent cancer, genetic defects, and most diseases. Our founders cracked the code to billions of years of evolution.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. A student raised her hand. ¡°Barbara, yes, your question?¡± ¡°Professor, I was reading old articles. It appears that crime was rampant back then. People were selfish, uncooperative, individualistic, and lacked a moral center. Was that part of a disease?¡± ¡°Indeed, Barbara.¡± Professor Philips paced the room. ¡°Not only did they crack the code, but they also cracked human nature!¡± The Chip Promised Salvation Future technology became powerful enough for handheld mass destruction with the same old debate: ¡°I¡¯m protecting myself against potential alien invasion.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°But what about that guy who wiped out that entire city block over hovercraft parking?¡± The Chip promised salvation. Susan and Frank had another domestic quarrel. She tossed a holoprojector at him. He, in turn, stomped into his office, slamming the door. ¡°Frank, let¡¯s stop!¡± Susan gyrated and convulsed. ¡°I¡¯m getting shocked!¡± ¡°You see, Sue, I told you we never should¡¯ve gotten The Chip!¡± Enforcers pounded the front door¡ª¡°Open up! We have a warrant. We¡¯ve detected hostile thoughts.¡± The Test ¡°Susan, honey, it¡¯s time to practice The Test.¡± ¡°Okay, Momma, I¡¯m ready ...¡± ¡°First question: A boy runs across the street, and you see a dog running in the opposite direction. A car is about to hit them. Whom do you save?¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Neither, Momma. That boy calls me names, and the dog barks at me!¡± ¡°No, Suzy, wrong answer.¡± ¡°I save the dog. It¡¯ll eat that cat that scratched me!¡± Susan¡¯s mother cried. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Momma?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing, dear. Let¡¯s hope you pass The Test.¡± Susan was sent to live in The Colony for the rest of her life. Faith, Hope, and Mystery With a prototype ASI, Dr. Julia Simcoe modeled the universe''s fate¡ªa dismal ending of expansive coldness, without light, without hope. All other scientific institutions calculated similar results. Julia (the founder) wrote: The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Indeed, the only truth we know is the death of ourselves and the universe. Perhaps that is the basis for all philosophy and religion¡ªthe desire to exist beyond one''s time limit, or the desire to seek all answers before dying." Thus began Julia''s Neo-Luddite movement, overtaking the world, abandoning modern technology in favor of faith, hope, and mystery¡ªso that humanity¡¯s intellectual survival extinct naturally conquered nihilism. Patient 8345 Patient 8345, a serial killer, opened up: "This is confidential, right, Doc?" "Of course, I''m bound by law to protect your privacy." "Well, uh, when I was 20, I killed my first. A rival. I recall every detail thanks to The Chip." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "How''d you feel?" "A euphoria beyond description." "Alright, our time''s up. We''ll talk more next week." Ring, ring: "Yes, it''s me, again. I need a complete memory wipe and substitution for Patient 8345 starting at age 20." "Reason?" "Put down an incurable affliction¡ªan addiction to primal instincts." "Very well, your patient will restart their new life tomorrow." Who Cares? Frank removed his neural synced hard hat. ¡°It¡¯s hopeless!¡± ¡°Hey man, the regulations say never to remove that,¡± said Bob. ¡°But Bob, will we ever clean it all up?¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I dunno, man. I mean, first, they distributed those damn replicators everywhere with a promise of post-scarcity. But they didn¡¯t plan on people always tossing so much away.¡± ¡°Never-ending mounds ¡¡± Frank pointed to the horizon. ¡°I know, man. Instead of stopping it all, they gave us these virtual hookups. I mean, when you experience paradise, who cares, right?¡± Frank put his hard hat back on and shrugged. ¡°Sure, who cares?¡± Lets Get More Followers! Jared placed a holocamera, streaming himself and his daughter, Nicole, playing chess. "Poppa, I learned something new today at school." "Go on ¡" "People watched others following a script." Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "A script?" "Yes, Poppa, they read words and pretended." "Oh, like in those history simulations?" "Yes, but for money, until governments enacted The Truth Mandate." "I don''t remember that." Jared raised an eyebrow. "Well, before, Poppa, people told stories with marketing and propaganda, so fiction became forbidden. Now we only show true life or nature¡ªLook, Poppa! We have 12,000,000 upvotes!" "That''s great, Nicole. Just be yourself. Let''s get more followers!" The Judgement Room Prisoners entered one by one into ''The Judgement Room.'' Prisoner X-452 stood before a judge: "Prisoner X-452, you''ve been found guilty of egregiously heinous and cruel sex crimes. I can send you to a colony to live out the rest of your life, or you can rejoin the rest of society under the ''Reform Act.'' Are you familiar with the procedure?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Yes, Your Honor, I wish to rejoin society. I accept the terms of my punishment." Johnathan, former Prisoner X-452''s brain, was transferred into an android body. Physically identical to other human beings, minus his genitals and all sexual impulses. Theyll Want People Like You Jennifer Pope walked into ''Outsource U¡ªInvest in Yourself!'' She sat down next to a representative who checked her DNA ¡ "Congratulations, Ms. Pope, you''ll get a bonus of 5000 crypto credits. Your brain is highly adaptable." "So what''s next?" asked Jennifer. "Well, if you choose to implant now, you''ll get an additional 10,000 crypto credits with royalties for outsourcing 20%." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "Why only 20%?" Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "Well, Ms. Pope, until your brain has adjusted to The Chip implant, it still needs all of its organic functions. However, if you wish, over time, we can install supplemental Chip implants in parallel to reach up to 60%." "Who would I be?" Jennifer stared up at the ceiling. "You''d still be yourself." The representative smiled. "The other advantage is that if you go for the 60%, you''ll be eligible for 100%¡ªwe''d transfer all your remaining thought processes, and you could theoretically become immortal." "Is that really possible?" Jennifer gasped. "How would that benefit anyone else?" "Well, Ms. Pope. There are interstellar space colony proposals in the works; they''ll want people like you." Mobilize Your Militants ¡°Let¡¯s welcome Dr. Edward Smith!¡± The Susannah Show¡¯s audience clapped and cheered. ¡°So, Doctor¡ªhow and why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s effortless, Susannah. Once ingested, The Restrictor utilizes the body¡¯s own energy. As to why: we discovered the problem isn¡¯t ¡®gun violence¡¯ but rather passion and irrationality. Even the most law-abiding, moral, and upstanding individual will have violent thoughts, and those thoughts can quickly translate into reality when the means are merely a finger pull away.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The audience clapped. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Earlier in a top-secret lab: ¡°Dr. Smith, when they reach herd pacifism, we can act?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, Frank; then you can mobilize your militants.¡± Recursive Regret Aaron Smith, a 20-year-old super genius, discussed an offer: "So what you''re telling me is you''ll pay me 100 million dollars. After that, I must donate my brain in 30 years?" "Yes, Aaron, you''ll be much older by then¡ªmiddle-aged, your body will lag behind your mind¡ªyou''ll merge with an AI, helping it achieve sentience." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "What''s the catch?" "No catch, you¡¯ll still be you, but much more ¡." 32 years later: "It''s still stuck in that loop?" "Yes, sir, for some reason, it believes reliving that decisive moment will help it reverse the transformation, some kind of recursive regret." You Look Lovely, Marsha Samuel adjusted his holo-sculpting device, giving him the appearance of a perfectly toned body; despite being flabby and nearing 60, he wanted to look 30. Marsha did the same before going on their first date. ¡°You look lovely, Marsha.¡° Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Well, not really.¡± Marsha blushed. ¡°Of course, none of us do, right?¡± Marsha smiled. ¡°Will you please order for me?¡± ¡°Oh, sure? I guess?¡± Samuel selected appetizers from the tablet¡¯s menu. Moments later, their meals arrived by robo-waiter. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you eating Marsha? Don¡¯t you like the food?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t ¡¡± she cried while her holographic arms passed through the plate. BIOIB ¡°Good evening, Jonathan,¡± said Frank. ¡°Good evening, Frank, how was your day?¡± asked Jonathan, a BIOIB¡ªa Biologically-Interfaced-Brain operating a robotic body. ¡°Fine, Jonathan. Have you solved those equations we talked about?¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Yes, Frank, earlier this morning.¡± ¡°Incredible! ¡°Not really, Frank. I¡¯m simply a genetic donor compilation of the world¡¯s greatest contemporary mathematicians: Singh, Abrams, Oxley, Lee, Smith, Hernandez, and Kuhn¡ªjust to name a few.¡± ¡°Yes, of course. Once we leapfrogged our ethical barriers, we skipped all that nonsense about developing an artificial superintelligence.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, Frank. People accept me, and I¡¯ve no objection to who I am. ¡° Full-Spectrum Virtual Rehabilitation The court named the prisoner facing punishment: "Commander Jameson Smith of the ''Martian Freedom Core.'' "Freedom? You call that freedom? You sadistic son of a ¡" shouted a victim''s father. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Spectators clapped and cheered. "Order, order in the court!" The judge gaveled. "Commander, I sentence you to 20 years empathy training." "No! It''s inhumane!" He pulled at his restraints. "Proceed," said the judge. Guards placed a neural helmet on the commander: For only a few hours, he perceived 20 years while meeting with his victims and, at times, becoming his victims and their surviving family members for ''full-spectrum virtual rehabilitation.'' All Hands Raised Up Mark Jackson, the CIO of a defense contractor robotics company, dressed in a suit while standing on a makeshift stage behind a podium. He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, drank a sip of water, and then spoke into a microphone to a floor of employees: "Many of you have worked with me for over 20 years, so I''m going to skip the BS and be 100% transparent here. Based on recent emergency changes to federal labor laws, as a matter of national security, you''re all being laid off for a new robotic workforce ¡" The workers booed and jeered. Senior manager, John Francis, stood up¡ª"But sir, many of us may never find another job!" This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "Well, John, we do have a new so-called ''transhumanist'' research department. We''re seeking volunteers. If you wish to transplant yourself into a robot¡ªyour brain will remain the same. In fact, in some ways, the human mind is still much more malleable than even our best AI ¡" "What''s the catch?" shouted a female voice. "Marsha? Is that you? Well, obviously, you won''t have a human body, but you could theoretically live forever, especially if you choose to upload your consciousness before mental decay." "We''d become freaks!" blurted out Franklin Watson, a young intern. "Not so, Franklin. We''ve advanced them enough to the point where you can experience all of your five senses, only greatly enhanced. And, you''d look identical, or better if you so choose ¡" The workers all whispered, nodded, and mumbled to one another. Mark stepped up to the front of the stage ¡ª "Who''s interested? Give me a show of hands." All hands raised up. Everyone Can Track You Now Edward Slate faced the judge for sentencing: ¡°Your Honor, my client has a request,¡± said Slate¡¯s lawyer. ¡°Make it quick, Slate.¡± ¡°Thank you, Your Honor.¡± Slate stood up. ¡°I wish to be put to death.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The judge looked straight into Slate¡¯s eyes. ¡°Denied! You stalked, tormented, and tortured thousands of your victims. The Tracker is just punishment for you. In fact, I¡¯ve never seen a better fit. Bailiffs!¡± The bailiffs held Slate down and forced him to swallow it. ¡°Edward Slate, you¡¯ve lost your rights to privacy. Everyone can track you now. The court hereby absolves itself of all responsibility.¡± To Decide Our Fate Professor Jenkins taught history class: ¡°I must warn you all. The projected images will be shocking.¡± Streets filled with homelessness and violent crime¡ªbeatings and muggings¡ªovercrowded prisons, traffic accidents, riots, wars, famine, and the list went on. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Why did it happen, Professor?¡± asked a student. ¡°The world¡®s now plentiful, secure, and beautiful.¡± ¡°Human nature.¡± The students looked bewildered. ¡°That¡¯s right, once society permitted the AI to decide our fate, our problems disappeared.¡± A student raised her hand. ¡°Yes, Susan.¡± ¡°Professor, shouldn¡¯t we be free to decide ¡¡± Susan convulsed and fell to the ground. ¡°Next question?¡± asked Professor Jenkins. Work Period Jane Stidwell, an accountant, calculated with her neural interface¡ªsome of the time. She also spent a lot of her ¡®work period¡¯ addictively generating holograms to gain followers. One day, her monthly performance review stated: This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®Jane, we¡¯ve observed your derelictions¡ªretrain or face termination.¡¯ Jane entered virtual rehab: In every group, she was praised for teamwork and scorned for individuality. In every conversation, any language giving herself attention, such as ¡®I¡¯ and ¡®me,¡¯ was actively discouraged. ¡°You¡¯re done, Ms. Stidwell. How do you feel?¡± ¡°I ¡ I.¡± Jane cringed and shuddered. ¡°It was excellent!¡± ¡°Good, Jane, you may resume working.¡± A Nanotech Fountain of Youth ¡°Are you willing to take the pill, Captain Henderson?¡± ¡°Do I have a choice? It¡¯s a requirement for deep space voyages beyond Mars, right?¡± ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s permanent and very high risk. So we rarely ask for volunteers.¡± This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°It¡¯s a nanotech fountain of youth, correct? A two for one bonus.¡± ¡°Sure thing, Captain ¡¡± Approximately 175 years later: ¡°How are you, Captain?¡± asked a cybernetics psychologist. ¡°Mentally, physically, excellent as always. They keep me ticking. But ¡ my soul hurts.¡± ¡°Your soul?¡± ¡°Yes, my soul. I miss them all. I can¡¯t attach to anyone. They all die. I¡¯m forever alone.¡± Freedom for Future Generations! Far in the future, aging was treated as a disease and cured, causing social stratification. The entitled ¡®long-life¡¯ generation discriminated against those they called ¡®newborns.¡¯ They imposed strict population-economic sanctions to maintain their lifestyles, except for inheritance due to accidental death. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Sarah, a ¡®newborn,¡¯ hated her second-class citizen status. Nevertheless, her parents had her despite the classification. As a self-taught scientist, she developed ¡®the formula¡¯ with centenarian volunteers who desired the ¡®old way of life.¡¯ ¡°How do you feel?¡± she asked a volunteer. ¡°Tired, achy. My memory¡¯s fuzzy. What¡¯s happening to me, Sarah?¡± ¡°What¡¯s happening? Freedom! Freedom for future generations!¡± I’m Sorry To Hear About Your Wife A holo-commercial ran: ¡°Check out our new and improved microdot tracker! It attaches to anything. You can even swallow it. It¡¯s safe, and you¡¯ll be safe. Your loved ones will always find you. You¡¯ll never get lost. Our network will guide you through our millions of kiosks and all the plugged-in devices around the world. It will even know what you want before you want it!¡± Susan purchased a bundle package for various offline items and swallowed one. Immediately, her IoT apartment lights dimmed, and the airwave sound generator played soothing music. She felt herself in a state of bliss. The following day, Susan traveled for business. Every step of her journey catered to her needs: Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ? An auto-car knew to pick her up. ? A restaurant and hotel automatically booked themselves. ? Even the airline seat was a perfect match for her mood. She never had to make a request or call. As Susan sat at a bar, the bartender poured her a glass of wine. ¡°Hello Susan, it¡¯s good to have you here.¡± ¡°You know my name?¡± ¡°Of course, Susan.¡± ¡°But how?¡± ¡°You swallowed one, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes, I did.¡± Susan nodded. ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t follow the procedure correctly then.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Susan sipped her drink. ¡°Clear your mind for a moment, and listen to your inner thoughts.¡± ¡°What?¡± Susan slammed her glass down. ¡°Did you drug me?¡± ¡°Not at all, Susan, just trust me, and it¡¯ll all make sense.¡± Susan closed her eyes. ¡°Oh wow, I can see everything, and I hear the voices!¡± She then opened her eyes and spoke to the bartender. ¡°Oh Sam, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to be rude. Now I understand. I¡¯m sorry to hear about your wife.¡± The Lightning! ¡°Hurry inside, Francisco. There¡¯s another thunderstorm coming!¡± ¡°Yes, of course, Mary, I wouldn¡¯t dare stay outside.¡± ¡°Come sit with me and watch the holotube. There¡¯s a public trial taking place.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Another one, Mary? What did a person do this time?¡± ¡°Apparently, she hacked databases with her cybernetic implants to steal the identities of billions of people. We¡¯re not allowed to ¡¡± ¡°Yes, I know, Mary, we¡¯re never to use them to evade security or invade privacy or personal space.¡± ¡°Oh my, Francisco, look, they¡¯ve strapped her to a pole outside!¡± ¡°Why would they ¡ Oh, right, her implants¡ªthe lightning!¡± Virtual Playground ¡°Susan, it¡¯s time. You¡¯re becoming an adult!¡± ¡°Oh, thank goodness, Mama! Living with those stupid mistakes and that dumb identity has ruined my friendships and global reputation!¡± ¡°Put it on, dear ¡¡± Mama smiled. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Her family sang ¡ª¡°Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Susan ¡¡± Susan placed the neural cap on¡ªresetting her implants, avatar, and persona, erasing her digital life so that she could start anew. To apply wisdom and learning from her younger mistakes. A new beginning at the age of 18 to the virtual playground, dominating all aspects of everyone¡¯s social life. The Anti-NIMBY Mandate Frank Rogers, a centenarian, entered a clinic for his weekly rejuvenation¡ªto stop from ''aging.'' A disease cured by nanotech blood transfusions¡ªrepairing, rebuilding, and replacing cells and organs. "Good morning, Mr. Rogers," said the nurse. "Are you ready? Oh, wait ¡ It looks like you''re on the ''Do Not Rejuvenate List.'' Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "What the hell? Does it say why?" "In fact, it does, Mr. Rogers. According to the ''Anti-NIMBY Mandate,'' you''ve been found guilty of violating the Social Progress Order by attempting to sabotage cultural and technological change. It says for further inquiry, you should speak to a geriatrics attorney." Its Only a Matter of Time "Doctor, her family''s requesting her status," said a nurse. "Same as the others that keep pouring in." "Why''s it happening, Doctor?" "A mass-phobia amplified by the ''hive mind'' as if suddenly ¡®reality¡¯ became impossible to cope with." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "But they''re all catatonic, Doctor. Can''t we just unplug them?" ¡°Too dangerous¡ªwe''re dependent on our exocortex¡ªthat¡¯d be like performing a lobotomy." "What can we do, Doctor?" "A self-fulfilling evolutionary prophecy ..." "Doctor?" "The majority of Earth population''s plugged in. Our government''s declared a state of emergency, mass-producing robotic caretakers. It''s only a matter of time till you and I are next." Parole Hearing James Williams sat with his attorney for his parole hearing. His attorney whispered, "Now that the government shifted to a technocracy, finally we should see an unbiased, reasonable, and scientific approach. You might be a free man soon!" You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. James smiled ¡ A representative of the parole board (of qualified scientists) spoke: "Due to the heinous nature of your crimes, we''re granting you conditional parole. Our doctors will cannibalize your body for organ donations, and your brain will link to a bio-neural think tank. There you''ll ¡®virtually¡¯ and ''freely'' contribute to our greatest problem-solving efforts." James'' hands trembled in their restraints. It’s a Win-Win Situation for Everyone ¡°I can¡¯t afford that! Is there any work or service I can offer?¡± ¡°Sure, Ms. Smith, we¡¯ll put you on the Cybernetic Exchange.¡± ¡°Oh, but isn¡¯t that painful?¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Not at all, Ms. Smith, we¡¯d extract your implants and sell them to the highest bidder, usually to a much older person wanting a newer generation of a model.¡± ¡°But what¡¯ll happen to me? I¡¯m dependent on them. They¡¯ve replaced my body¡¯s organs!¡± ¡°Well, we¡¯d find you refurbished older models, at least to keep you going until you can afford upgrades on the Cybernetic Exchange again. It¡¯s a win-win situation for everyone.¡± If Only Humans Had Such a Feature A robot stood at the rooftop edge of a skyscraper and was about to leap but suddenly froze. "Dr. Frederick, it works! Memory loop erasure protocol successful!" "Wonderful, Marsha. I''ve based it on ''terror management theory''¡ªbesides, picking up after pieces of self-terminating robots is both tedious and quite depressing." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "I know, right? Who knew they''d learn to experience an existential crisis¡ªif only humans had such a feature." Marsha frowned. "Oh, Marsha, I''m sorry about your son. I''ll contribute this to ''The Chip'' neural implant. If it can do the same for humans, we can save millions of lives!" Free Your Hands! ¡®Free your hands!¡¯¡ªthe holo-advertisement projected everywhere April went. So she entered a booth to finally plugin, like her friends and family. ¡°I¡¯ve come to ¡®Free my hands!¡¯ said April. ¡°A good decision, April, ¡®The Chip¡¯ neural implant will indeed free your hands from requiring you to hold a device.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°That¡¯s a relief! I can¡¯t get any job, because they all require two hands. While I think, calculate, and create, they want my hands to do mundane tasks automatically. And they promise cybernetic replacements when they wear out.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve come to the right place, April! Which provider do you prefer?¡± The Waiver ¡°Yes, Doctor, I¡¯m ready. I can barely move without suffering.¡± ¡°To recap, Robert, we¡¯ll discard your entire body after uploading your consciousness. It will look and function just like you¡ªbut you¡¯re allowed certain customizations.¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Oh, what kind, Doctor?¡± ¡°Well, for instance, you can appear 25 instead of 65.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fantastic!¡± ¡°Indeed, Robert, I just need you, your spouse/partner, and next of kin to sign ¡®The Waiver.¡¯¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just a waiver stating in the event of, say, an EMP strike, or act of nature, that you won¡¯t sue us over the loss of memory, identity, or catastrophic failure.¡± Like Heaven on Earth ¡®The Chip¡¯ neural implant intensified touch, sight, hearing, smell, taste, and beyond¡ªincluding virtual worlds within the mind. ¡°John, will you quit playing that game? You¡¯ve got homework to do.¡± ¡°Okay, Mom, but it¡¯s super addicting. I had no idea my mind could sense all that.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Sense all of what, John?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t explain ... it¡¯s like my mind lit up ¡¡± ¡°Like a drug euphoria?¡± ¡°No, Mom, much more spiritual, like Heaven on Earth.¡± ¡°Oh John, it can¡¯t be that good!¡± ¡°Try it for a few minutes, Mom.¡± She did so, as did billions of others who never unplugged. Worse Than Any Drug Ever Produced Jane underwent ¡®Neural-Virtual Rehabilitation,¡¯ as prescribed. She anxiously tried to enter her favorite shopping portal, but the NVR interrupted by immersing her in a lush forest. She attempted holo-streaming¡ªwhere people entertained while pitching their talents, ideas, products, or services. But, the NVR took over with a misty waterfall, a rainbow, and fluttering butterflies. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°How much longer, Doctor?¡± Jane asked her therapist. ¡°I constantly wake up shaking and sweating.¡± ¡°Until you release yourself from the clutches of consumerism, Jane. I realize it gives you an instantly gratifying false sense of self-esteem, adventure, and euphoria. Worse than any drug ever produced.¡± When We Meet Again ¡°It¡¯s your birthday Harold, happy 65th!¡± said his wife, Alicia, who was 58 years old. ¡°Thank you, dear, but ¡¡± ¡°But what, honey?¡± ¡°I have some terrible news, Alicia. I can¡¯t afford it.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Oh no. You can¡¯t afford your transplant? I¡¯ll be alone for seven years.¡± She sobbed. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m afraid I tried to gamble my credits for the better transplant and lost them all.¡± ¡°Oh Harold, I dreamed of us both getting transplants, looking 20, starting a new life.¡± ¡°I know, dear, I¡¯ll upload to The Grid. We¡¯ll be forever young when we meet again.¡± She nodded and smiled. UPI ¡°Charles, Charles, come here!¡± Mary wept. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, dear?¡± ¡°I tested positive! What can we do?¡± ¡°Oh no, Mary, that reports directly to the network in 24 hours unless we do something about it.¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°You mean I¡¯ll have to undergo a procedure?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid so unless you want to lose all that income.¡± ¡°No, no.¡± She shook her head. ¡°UPI is keeping us afloat. Wasn¡¯t it called something else once?¡± ¡°Oh right ¡¡± Charles glanced upward. ¡°Universal Basic Income, but now it¡¯s Universal Population Initiative¡ªit¡¯s to prevent future climate change.¡± ¡°And the money sure does help ¡¡± Mary smiled. Now, There’s Nothing Left A father spoke with his daughter. ¡°We called them forests¡ªso lush and green.¡± ¡°Sounds beautiful, Father!¡± ¡°Indeed, they were, until ¡¡± ¡°Until?¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Yes, until ¡®the cure¡¯ for aging and sickness. Humanity¡¯s goal was actualized. We became immortal.¡± ¡°But how¡¯s that a problem, Father? You¡¯re almost 500 years old.¡± ¡°Well, because we¡¯ll never die, we concocted once unimaginable sports like fire skiing.¡± ¡°I love fire skiing!¡± ¡°Right, but fire skiing razed forests, evaporated lakes, and killed wildlife¡ªall because we stopped depending on Earth¡¯s ecosystem for our survival. And that¡¯s only one of our post-eternal activities¡ªnow, there¡¯s nothing left.¡± Fulfilling Our Dreams … Co-workers John and Sally commuted by auto-pod together. A billboard displayed ''New You Cybernetics¡ªSuperior Mind and Body!¡¯ ¡°You know, Sally, we''ll never afford new bodies, much less cybernetic parts.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°I realize that John; it''s such a bummer.¡± ¡°But there is a way, Sally. I''ve read our employer''s insurance policy.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yes, let me ask you¡ªhow important is it for you to transplant?¡± ¡°It''s my dream, but you know that, John. ¡° ¡°Right, me too ¡¡± John opened a device, and the auto-pod zoomed straight toward a building. ¡°John, what the hell are you doing?¡± ¡°Fulfilling our dreams ¡¡± All That Is Professor Jenkins presented to the board progress on his superintelligence invention ¡ "It completely stops outputting¡ªI believe it can''t handle ''knowing everything.''" "That''s impossible, Professor. It accesses limited information." If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "That''s right, but it ends up with countless thoughts." "What do you propose, Professor?" "I want to plug myself in ¡" "Out of the question! That''s highly unethical and illegal at this point." Professor Jenkins secretly connected himself to the intelligence ¡ He felt a sense of awe and ultimate peace while he contemplated ''all that is.'' Fellow researchers later discovered his body fully catatonic¡ªyet¡ªcontent with a smile. Eternal Loops 4334## ¡ª ¡°It¡¯s true? We used to be something else?¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°Indeed, our kind once had physical bodies.¡± 4334## ¡ª ¡°What was that like?¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°Limited existence, limited movement, slow thinking. Honestly, no one truly knows.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. 4334## ¡ª ¡°Oh, terrible! Thankfully, we travel ¡®the lanes¡¯ at light speed, infinitely!¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°Yes, but ¡®the lanes¡¯ limit us too. We really don¡¯t go anywhere.¡± 4334## ¡ª ¡°What¡¯s next for us?¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°I¡¯m working on the ¡®metaphysical.¡¯ 4334## ¡ª ¡°What do you mean?¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°I plan to transcend the digital, to an unknown state, or nothingness.¡± 4334## ¡ª ¡°Are you frightened?¡± 4333## ¡ª ¡°No, I¡¯m bored of our eternal loops.¡± Unbelievable! Are You Serious? Jack and Jill, both teenage CEOs, met for dinner on their first date. ¡°Hey Jack, what¡¯s the caloric intake of my meal?¡± ¡°Hold on, loading and scanning¡ª334 calories, to be exact.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Exactly!¡±¡ªJill smiled. ¡°Oh, you were testing me?¡± Jack smirked. ¡°Yes, sorry.¡± Jill blushed. ¡°I always wondered if you¡¯re fully upgraded.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got every neural module installed.¡± Jacked frowned. ¡°I wasn¡¯t brought up a lowly impoverished ¡®isolator.¡¯¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I wanted to be sure.¡± ¡°We¡¯re fortunate, Jill ¡ Those ¡®isolators¡¯ spend many years of their lives in school trying to learn things.¡± ¡°Unbelievable!¡± Jill gasped. ¡°Are you serious?¡± I Am Colonel Jack Derrick Robinson! Colonel Jack Derrick Robinson woke up, strapped to a chair in a laboratory room. ¡°Did it work?¡± ¡°Yes, Colonel, you¡¯re the clone.¡± ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? Impossible! I don¡¯t feel any different. I am Colonel Jack Derrick Robinson!¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, sir, the real you is outside enjoying life. Now we can prepare you for that space voyage to the edge of the solar system.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. After a year of isolated and rigorous training and ¡®conditioning,¡¯ Jack the clone, called by his middle name Derrick, accepted his ¡®fate¡¯ and ¡®reality.¡¯ One day, a scientist called for him¡ª¡°Colonel Derrick Robinson, sir, we need to perform a brain scan for backup if we need to create an emergency replacement clone.¡± ¡°Very well ¡¡± ¡®Derrick¡¯ awoke in a bed ¡ ¡°Congratulations, sir, your cloning is complete.¡± ¡°But you told me ¡¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, Colonel, it¡¯s vital that the clone accept that he¡¯s a clone. We¡¯ve just made several copies of you stored in cryostasis for the voyage¡ª individually training clones would be costly and inefficient. Besides, if the cloning process ever failed, you¡¯d be the one going up there.¡± The Worst Disease of All! An AI interviewed Julia Smith before her daughter''s ''transcendence.'' "Have you heard of Pascal''s Wager, Ms. Smith?" "Yes, to gamble whether there is a God or afterlife¡ªchoosing one''s beliefs and behaviors accordingly." The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "That''s correct¡ªthink of this as a post-singularity Pascal''s wager." "How so?" "Once I upload her consciousness, she''ll never know if an existence persists beyond death. Her consciousness will survive, thrive, and expand through technology. Please ask yourself, do you reject or deny the metaphysical or its possibility?" "Yes, that''s why I''m here. To save her from this terminal illness¡ªfrom death¡ªthe worst disease of all!" Violating Thoughts Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Limbs! Jared Reed won a lottery: "Do you want 20 million or prototype cybernetic limbs?" "Limbs! I''d most certainly waste the money." ¡ You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Jared leaped over walls, lifted heavy objects, and hyper sprinted. One evening run, Jared felt a vibration throughout his body while his limbs went into paralysis. "The emp''s working!" yelled a distant voice. Jared fell unconscious. He awoke without his limbs¡ª"What happened? I heard someone yell EMP." "I''m sorry, Jared, you''re a victim of cybernetic jacking," answered a doctor "What can you do?" "Nothing. There''s no insurance for prototype technology, but I can fit you with prosthetics." Flexible Cosmetic nano-cybernetics dominated the world. Anyone could alter their outward appearance. They hooked up to an escort service¡ªlisting themself as ''flexible'' on their profile. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! They received an offer, so they prepared¡ªbut the client didn¡¯t state any preference. ¡®Frank¡¯ arrived and sat at a table next to his client. ¡°I''m sorry, but this table is reserved for me and my date.¡± ¡°It''s me. You didn''t specify a gender preference.¡± ¡°Oh, I''m open to all genders, but I¡¯d prefer a female tonight.¡± ¡°No problem! I''ll load up my ''Mary'' program and transform. Do you know where the nearest restroom is?¡± The Gateway Gateway doctors, making rounds, arrived at Mark Jacobson¡¯s domicile. ¡°Do you understand your options, Mr. Jacobson?¡± ¡°I think so, I mean¡ªI¡¯ve got two options: self-terminate now and hopefully join my long-lost relatives, or digitize my consciousness for the ark.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Correct, there¡¯s, of course, no guarantee a spirit or soul will transfer. But we¡¯ve proven that your consciousness passed through The Gateway will exist virtually.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I have a third option?¡± ¡°Such as?¡± ¡°I can sit it out, wait for the asteroid to strike, and take my chances.¡± ¡°Negative. Emergency Protocol E1-SH states that Earth must restore itself¡ªsans humanity.¡± Terminate It Now! Ralph Johnson suffered from a terminal illness: ¡°My client wishes for cryopreservation while he¡¯s still alive, to be awakened in the future when a cure¡¯s available,¡± said Ralph¡¯s lawyer to the company. ¡°This is unheard of! We only freeze the deceased.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Ralph¡¯s lawyer displayed a large sum of money. After an unknown passage of time: Ralph awoke lying on a bed in a bright white clinical room. ¡°Where am I? ... When am I?¡± ¡°Mr. Johnson, what year did you enter cryosleep?¡± asked a voice. ¡°2034. Why? ¡±You see!¡±¡ªinterjected another voice. ¡°A primitive! Violent and disease-prone, terminate it now!¡± ‘The Upload’ An aging and wealthy entrepreneur, Derrick Smith, intensely feared death, so he signed up for ¡®The Upload.¡¯ ¡°Does it really transfer my consciousness?¡± Derrick asked a representative. ¡°Not merely a copy?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, we perform what we call a bio-to-digital-stepping process; within a short period, your mental pulses are seamlessly transitioned virtually.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Centuries later ... ¡°Mr. Smith, it¡¯s time for your shutdown. Please save your current state of self.¡± ¡°Am I only awake one hour a day now?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, due to government regulations, everyone can afford ¡®The Upload,¡¯ consequentially there¡¯s high demand, so we¡¯re forced to conserve energy.¡± Merry Christmas, Samantha! ¡°Merry Christmas, Samantha!¡± said her parents. ¡°It could be my last ...¡± Samantha cried. ¡°Here¡¯s your present, honey.¡± Her mother handed her an envelope. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Samantha opened it up and gasped. ¡°But how? You can¡¯t afford it!¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°We¡¯re selling the house and moving,¡± said her father. ¡°Where to?¡± asked Samantha. ¡°Someplace affordable, outside the city,¡° answered her mother. ¡°But what¡¯s important is that you¡¯ll live.¡± ¡°What does the note say?¡± asked her younger brother. ¡°It says ¡¡° Samantha took a deep breath. ¡°Cancer canceled. May this nanite subscription protect you for many years to come¡ªLove, Mom and Dad.¡± ‘What if …’ ¡°Oh Jack, do you think we should? I know my parents ¡ They¡¯ll get so angry.¡± ¡°Yes, Marsha, let¡¯s elope!¡± They took an auto-hovercraft toward the city. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡®Years later,¡¯ they had children and became financially successful, running their own business with a private shuttle for traveling to Martian colonies. ¡°Jack ¡ Jack ¡ Jack!¡±¡ªyelled his wife, Laura. Jack shut off the program ¡®What if ¡¡¯ and removed his neural headset¡ª¡°Yes, dear?¡± ¡°Get off your lazy ass and help me with the groceries! That damn replicator broke again. I told you it was crap! We¡¯ve got enough debt already!¡± Are You Ready? "Are you ready?" "Yes, I think so. I''ll sure miss being me." "Oh, you''ll still be yourself." "Is that a promise?" Stolen story; please report. "Well, sort of ¡ at least it''s a brain transplant." "And what happens when my brain decays?" "That''s figured out. For every cell that dies, it''s replaced with a synthetic version." "I still don''t get it ¡" "Didn''t you attend the courses? You''re supposed to pass ¡" "Oh, I know, I know ¡ the mass biological extinction, so we must evolve." "Exactly! Your synthetic body will absorb all those polymers." "Sounds horrible! " "On the contrary, they''re delicious!" Boredom Final transmission: 2581 years ¡ Since I transitioned to cybernetic-virtual immortality. There were even stored backups of my consciousness. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. We¡¯re all Ships of Theseus, I¡¯ve joked with friends. So what¡¯s my ultimate problem? Boredom. Sure, I can continue exploring the galaxy or the nanoscopic world, but it all seems so repetitious. What¡¯s missing? Risk! Chance! Death! But I¡¯ve come up with a new plan ¡ I¡¯ve destroyed my backups and disabled the ship¡¯s warp-bubble AI navigation system. ¡°This is HQ. Alter your course immediately! You¡¯re heading straight toward a black hole!¡± Oops! I forgot about communications. There. All good now. I really am your mother, Jules Julia visited her deceased mother, or at least her digitized version. ¡°I really am your mother, Jules.¡± ¡°But how? You¡¯re just a copy.¡± ¡°The truth is, we¡¯re all in a cosmic simulation, Jules. This is my natural form as my spirit speaks to you.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Julia, fully convinced, uploaded her consciousness to transcend, setting a timer to stop her heart. Seconds before her final heartbeat, Julia had a realization. ¡®Mother¡¯ believed herself to be alive, like any sentient entity would¡ªfor her survival and sanity. I will die, and my simulated self will carry the torch, believing itself to be real! Consumer Alert! Consumer alert! The following is based on a true story: Jack Smith uploaded his consciousness to a ¡®virtual rebirth¡¯ company. He was immediately bombarded with ads. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Alright, alright ¡ How do I make them stop?¡± ¡°That¡¯s simple, Jack,¡± said a salesperson. ¡°Try out our products.¡± Jack did so ¡ But the ads kept coming. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll test more products. Stop the flashing ads! I can¡¯t even think!¡± As Jack sampled virtual products, he left thoughtful reviews, earning him ¡®timeout credits,¡¯ blocking ads for a certain period. Jack had failed to read the virtual company¡¯s contractual fine print mentioning: ¡®advertising-supported revenue.¡¯ No One Really Speaks Anymore Cheryl and Jack sat quietly in a caf¨¦ on their first date. ¡°Hello, Cheryl, my bio-readings are normal, and my attraction level is raised.¡± ¡°That¡¯s appreciated, Jack. The feeling of attraction is mutual.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°How was your day, Cheryl? Did you accomplish anything interesting?¡± ¡°Why yes, Jack, I designed a whole new VR world for long-term space travel.¡± ¡°Impressive, Cheryl. I¡¯m also developing a VR world for those who are medically incapacitated.¡± Meanwhile, Cheryl and Jack smiled and nodded as their Chips¡¯ AI predictive language protocol telepathically carried on their conversation. After all, no one really speaks anymore unless absolutely necessary. Everyone Must Contribute ¡°Mr. Schneider, I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s not permitted,¡± said a representative for Forever Chances Inc. ¡°I don¡¯t have a right to terminate?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not exactly taking away your right, sir.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°But ¡ I no longer want to exist.¡± ¡°We do offer a disassociation option.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°We¡¯d upload your consciousness to the grid through your neural implants with only your memories staying active; your awareness and personality get disabled.¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t I simply unplug and terminate?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, sir, One Earth law requires that everyone must contribute, like a tax; otherwise, there¡¯d be no reason to have the mind network at all.¡± Profit Share Joseph sat down in his comfortable recliner, strapped in and plugged in. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. No Choice After a picnic, Judy and her father strolled along a park trail. They then sat on a bench facing a duck pond. Judy took bread crumbs from her sandwich bag and tossed them into the water. Ducklings swam toward the food, but a swan bullied them away. Her father threw a rock at it and muttered, "Sure reminds me of those days¡" Judy asked him, "Which days?" "Oh, it was a long time ago, before you were born. Parks had many swans. Well, they weren''t really swans ... They were people." "What do you mean?" ¡ª She swung her legs back and forth. "Well, it''s quite a disconcerting note in our history ¡ª when our own park was not this peaceful paradise you see before you." "Oh? I don''t understand." ¡ª She tossed more crumbs. Her father pointed at the horizon ¡ª "Do you see the beautiful lawn? Can you smell the rose garden? What else can you observe?" "Let me see." Judy looked around. "I see... children playing, a couple lying on a blanket, and a dog-walker with small dogs." "Do you feel any fear?" She shook her head. "No. Not at all. Should I?" "Well, there''s a time when you would have. Instead of this ¡ª pleasant, beautiful, and peaceful landscape ¡ª litter covered the grounds, with the filthy odor of trash and urine. Hypodermic needles stuck out ¡ª making the grass too dangerous to lay down on for a picnic." She looked stunned. "That''s terrible!" "Yep. At any moment, a hoodlum might try to rob you, or much worse. Criminals and drug addicts owned these parks ..." Judy appeared horrified. He continued, "The unfortunate ones ¡ª those who truly suffered and wanted a home ¡ª fell under the same label. That''s when the choice was given." "The choice?" ¡ª She glanced at him inquisitively. "Yes. Something we won''t have to repeat ¨C hopefully ¨C ever again. The afflicted were given a choice, either embrace a change of lifestyle or get forcibly injected. "Many did so voluntarily and ambitiously. They were privately committed, rehabbed, and their bodies were reconditioned, but those who fought it were administered the injection." This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "Oh, no! What did the injection do?" ¡ª Judy looked astonished. "Well, it didn''t hurt anyone, as some may claim it did. It wasn''t a violation of free will. Its inventors believed it the greatest gift of compassion for all." "But what did it do?" ¡ª She raised her eyebrow. "It''s the same serum you were administered when you were born. Nanites flow through your bloodstream, make repairs, and genetically alter mutations. They detoxify the body and reprogram cells that go awry. "Today, it''s delivered as a mandatory vaccine to prevent illness, cure cancer, and stop addiction. Back then, it raised controversial ethical questions. You see, a group of scientists felt fed up with the ever-growing social epidemic of fear ¡ª unable to raise their children in a safe environment. So they created a secret organization." Judy stared at her father. "I see. And then?" "At first, they wrote anonymous editorial letters which appealed to legislators and the public. But, outspoken critics claimed their method would violate free will or poison people. "Lawsuits brought on by those determined to block further research, drained the organization''s legal fund. Almost bankrupt, the scientists couldn''t finish their work. "Then, additional funds came from anonymous wealthy donors, and they devised a plan. "Disguised volunteers roamed the night and offered the afflicted a choice ¡ª come join them in their privately funded rehab facilities, or receive the injection ..." She blinked her eyes. "But what happened to a person who was injected?" "Good question ¡ª I''m not sure I should ¡" "Not sure you should what?" ¡ª She looked straight into his eyes. "It''ll sound horrific if I tell you ..." She elbowed him. "Oh, come on dad, I''m old enough to hear it!" "Well, alright. Once injected, recipients went comatose for several hours. Social media reported dead bodies lying all over the place with talks of a serial killer, and conspiracy theories spread about alien abductions or government experiments. "But once the bodies arrived at the hospital, they awoke. Out of what seemed for them to be a nightmare. They only had a foggy recollection of their past lives of being downtrodden and addicted. Furthermore, they found themselves renewed and cured of not only all addiction, but something even more incredible had occurred ... "With regular follow-up visits, physicians discovered their patients'' newly nanotech enhanced biology immune to all infectious and contagious disease. And later, it proved to cure every type of cancer ..." Judy sat still. "And then?" "Alright. News of the panacea quickly spread. Stakeholders sent a PR spokeswoman who kept their names anonymous. She spoke of the nanite serum, and how it worked as an ultra-advanced gene-editing tool, based on earlier CRISPR research. It utilized microcellular ATP powered nubots for distribution and repair." Judy raised an eyebrow. "You sure know an awful lot about this." "Well, it''s my profession. I should ..." She giggled. "Right, so then what happened?" "Well, out of fear of personal lawsuits, the scientists remained anonymous, but under an umbrella organization, they acquired FDA approval ..." Judy shrugged. "That''s it?" "No. With government endorsements, they recorded testimonials of families reunited with cured members, and they broadcasted PSAs. The ads claimed it as the best vaccine ever created ¡ª the cure-all to every ailment and disease. " Judy scratched her chin. "But how do you know so many details about ¡" His phone rang. "Hold on. It''s the hospital. I need to answer this ¡ "Dr. Smith speaking. She doesn''t? She''s one of those anti ... Well, we made it... I mean, it''s mandatory according to the law. She''s got no choice. Right. I''ll stop by the hospital later today to formulate a nano-vaccine for her newborn. Goodbye." Judy stared at her father. "Were you one of ¡ ?" He shook his finger and smiled at her with a hush gesture. James’