GuNNhead

Walled in. I knew this was a possibility, but never gave into the lackluster dismal option of it. Not that I hadn’t prepared, but, never expected a negative turn of events. I had it all worked out. I don’t care. Not for this situation, no, not at all. A trap, set up before I could have even thought, towards the endgame of an eponymous victory. Blocked in, and set to sit, now. It’s all a matter of memory and futurethought, now. Calm, and collected.

In restoring hundred year old digital technology, we’ve developed a special nano-liqiud bath, so that the pixelation is not visible to the decoder rendering that data. It was quite simple, really. We’ve recently heard word of an original file, but have not heard contact with the sender in over a week.

I do understand that something is lost with restoration, an inner vibration of seeing it how it was originally seen to the primitives. This is a type of thought. The original is preserved, though once you view it, you may find that the cleansed to a visual purity version is superior, and the original is best left to a museum. This is not the case this retellings, derivatives, they are withing their own subfiles, available with free access of perusal of the original. Wherever the source of inquisition.

It was funny, somehow, that the only way to reach people who wanted to know of you, was to to reach them through things they did not want. Only then, would they realize. Brainpatterns through the oraganic strands were so inferior.

It was when my logic and reason were in their final death throes towards insanity that I finally began to appreciate the people in my life.
To look for some sort of truthful happiness, that was the original insanity on my part, at war with biology. Fighting against the illogical enjoyment of human interaction, those who will inherently betray anyone given half a chance. Enjoy these animals on their own terms. Became too preoccupied in my own dealings to realize that they were part of my life, as opposed to violently rejecting them.
I had to give up, to give in, and simply let my body to what it wanted to. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Either way, this consciousness will shatter upon death, and return to the cosmos as the earth crumbles and the sun explodes.
Live like an animal, in their presence, suppress my overarching intelligence and superiority over them. Bide my time, take shelter in this new-found insanity.
No, they’d never know that my laughs or smiles were the signs of a mind finally beyond the cusp. I was gone. I was gone.
The datafiles made a terrifying map of consistence, life and unlife. We were still alive. Even digitally, there is no difference, one can see the strands of the universe within the brain, and even within the digital brain do they pattern themselves once more in every aspect. Now it is faster, and more resilient, with all the hope and aspirations of the past, the future has arisen from dystopia.

“What do you think he meant, Elz?”
“I know exactly what he meant, and after this score, we’ll be having a chat with him.”
“Ugh, he’s so boring and technical, I can’t stand his mumbojumbo.”
“This isn’t the time for games, it’s time for The Games.”
“Lag off, I fragging got it. I’m better at these than any-”
“GAME ON!”

Bullets begin firing with full realism of physics. Just like the real thing, but better, less at risk. Unless that was your setting. Few have chosen the ultimate rounds, for that deletes your entire profile if one loses. In true rounds, with respawn and bench, one has never won multiple full matches in succession. There were too many people, the playing fields were level. It would be hard to blame some for experiencing the power over bots almost programmed to lose, with their AI’s intentional inferiority to the human brainwave. Killer-bot tournaments were always the best to watch. Only on special occasions though, so that The Permanent Mind could flex his digitized hands, lording his power over us as a benevolent god of cyberworld. An endgamer with no more masters, though he maintains corporate sponsorship from whence he came. The developer, long dead.

In a final hail of gunfire and explosions “THE ONSLAUGHT IS OVER.”
“We did it! we won!”
“Yes, I knew this strategy would work, man, we are fast!” The UEC is deposited into their private accounts.
“We should go now, this is a huge haul. I feel so silly now for being worried.”
“Worried? What abo- hold on, I got a pm”
“WINNER. You have been entered in a special bonus round.”
“Sweet, a bonus round.”
“Don’t bother with it, we have to go.”
“It’s a timed request, it won’t take long, I’ll meet you la-” he dematerializes, transferred to the bonus round.

In the Outerworld, both users never became logged on, the paradisio drive saw to that.
“Why do you think it didn’t work, Elz?”
“I’m not convinced it didn’t, I just need to figure out how to get our rigs up and running again.”
“What do you think went wrong?”
“The paradisio drive, it takes up a lot of power, probably blew out a couple of things.”
“Hey, I never asked you, why do you work out so much here?”
“Helps me think, plus, this is a good spot, it’s my room.”
“You know what I mean.”
“So that I can trust what I feel when I am me in the web, know that it’s not some weird fake cyber feeling. I like to experience the ultimate me all the time.”
“But we’re all gonna be digitized anyhow, body’s gonna crap out or something the way this world’s a wasteland. I feel more free in there.”
“I can be in my own mind when I just exercise, none of that bombardment of intertainment, just me, focused.”
“Intense, I just listen to music.”
“You always listen to music.”
“Yeah, but especially when uploaded.” They share a smile.
“But this is just for me. I still think the boundaries should be preserved.” A stunned silence, then, a sort of agreement. “There’s hope for this place, but it’s found in the cyberworld. We just need UEC funds.”