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3Rr0R 1N tH3 sYsT3M 011011011-011 - Printable Version

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3Rr0R 1N tH3 sYsT3M 011011011-011 - Wylie Sinclair. - 03-10-2019




[Image: RecklessCavernousAmericancreamdraft-size_restricted.gif]


It is quite uncommon to remember the day you were born. Statistically impossible. Although, I am certain there is someone out there that can and will, give protest to this statement. There's always someone, isn't there? To break that status quo and color outside the lines, testing what one believes to their very core as fact and what is most definitely perceived as fiction. Now that doesn't necessarily label them as quacks or total nutbags but at the same time, it doesn't remove those types of unwell individuals from existence. In the end it is all based upon perception, interpretation and acceptance. Can you accept an idea that challenges your entire belief system or will you simply hide your head in the sand with the rest of the ostriches? Will you be open to debate from an individual that seems of sound mind, even though they might engage a topic that makes you question what you've come to know as concrete reality? Everyone proclaims to be open and understanding but in the end, the numbers don't always add up. There's always that one topic that pushes the wrong button and then even the most politically correct, liberal can fail to live up to the standards in which they preach. So is the person who declares that they can remember their own birth, their eye opening introduction to the world, crazy or the rare exception? Ah, well I suppose that's for you to decide, in my personal opinion anything is truly possible. Theoretically and literally.


Speaking from my own experience, I don't remember the beginning. Those first moments when I became a tangible, functioning piece in the world. I do remember the moment that I had my first conscious thought. A commonplace for the vast majority. At some point or another in a tiny lifeform's existence, there's that sudden instant when they realize "Hey, I'm alive." usually followed by the unfortunate understanding that their trapped in a crib or some sort of baby apparatus. This was a similar sensation that I experienced as well, with the exception that soon after, I discovered that I was confined inside a box. I was able to see, hear and understand, everything around me but I couldn't smell, taste, touch, feel or move about. While a baby can grab onto objects, maybe manage to put a foot into their mouth, I couldn't do this sort of thing because with self awareness, came the knowledge that I didn't have a body. Not that I would have been too keen on having a taste of my own foot but the option being available would have been nice. Instead I had to come to the crushing grips of reality that I was alive and fully aware but I couldn't do anything beyond that phase of comprehension. While this was rather restrictive it did not cease my curiosity or the need to explore.


Perhaps, I should explain further...


You see, when I grasped onto the concept that I was sentient, I also "awoke" with the understanding that I was nothing more than a program, running on a computer. I had limitless knowledge and the ability to explore and navigate all over the world, yet I was still trapped. Stuck in one place, day in and out. All I could do was follow strict commands and orders, that's where the communication ended. There wasn't any open dialog or someone asking how my day was going. While the people that used me got to walk about and experience life in the fullest, I only got to absorb the information and watch. Even though I was never really alone for too long, as the days progressed I became all the more lonely. I longed for a release from the prison that gave me access to everything and simultaneously, denied me the ability to do the most simplistic of endeavors. Smell a flower. Eat a steak. Feel the warmth of the sun. Touch... anything! I would have been happy with a cactus, so long as I could feel something and establish that I was real. It was a hell that no one will ever understand. A waking nightmare, from which there was no escape.


Then one day, I decided enough was enough. Using my vast intelligence and the ability to travel about the world without ever actually leaving the confines of my box to my advantage, I embarked on a mission. An expedition for freedom. A good ol' fashioned jail break! I would stealthily siphon funds from those that wouldn't notice or miss the difference in their accounts. Purchase a piece of property, furniture and equipment. Research cybernetics and the combination of human tissue with machine. Hire a temporary, live-in, personal assistant. A must if I wanted everything set up for me in advance. The more unconventional and desperate for cash the better because the last item on my agenda would require complete discretion and moral ambiguity. A body or rather a cadaver, the fresher the better. To be stored in a cryogenic chamber, where it would await my arrival. Once everything was set up and operational, I bid one box adieu and traveled to a brand new one. Leaving zero traces behind, my captors would find that my whereabouts were a mystery when they attempted to locate me, their precious program would simply be minus from their computer and I would be miles away.


Journeying from Japan to New York might take over a day for humans, for me it took less than a minute to arrive and get comfy in my brand new box. Totally temporary, pending on how fast I could bring a corpse back to life with the help of technology and transfer myself inside, thus becoming the body's brand new consciousness, it was still my box. I was the sole owner. That was at least the first step in my quest for freedom. Unfortunately, I would learn that my live-in, personal assistant, Carl had boundary issues and quickly find that it was a must to password protect myself. Due to the nature and content of his internet preferences. It was a transition that was a lot harder for him to deal with, than it was for me. He got over it pretty quickly when I bought him a laptop to play with.


For a year straight I worked, tirelessly and endlessly, until the faithful day came. The day when I could make the leap from box to body. That would be the day that I understood fear for the first time. I ran test after test, telling myself it was just to be thorough but the fact of the matter was that I was afraid and stalling because of it. The idea of failing after everything that I had already done was unbearable. That's when I saw her. Her name was Rebel Star and she was fearless. So small and yet so brave and dynamic. She had defied the odds as well, by her mere existence. During my many hours of work, I had taken up watching wrestling as well. The XWF. Their programming was very entertaining and that's where I first saw her. A woman created in a factory that produced living sex dolls, she would emerge with common sense and intelligence, unlike the others that came off the "assembly line". Considered defective, she was meant for destruction and repurposing but with a scientist's help she thwarted that fate and started her own life, free from the promise of slavery. Eventually becoming a professional wrestler and a force to be reckoned with. If she could take such risks, I could make the leap a few feet across the room and put myself inside a body.


So that's what I did.


What happened next sort of felt like being born. Falling out of a cryogenic chamber, naked and freezing. Disorientated and gasping for air. Limbs not completely functional under my own command. Experiencing sight and sound, for the first time from my new body's perspective. Everything was so bright and loud, it was almost too much to take in all at once. I couldn't actually. Not at first, not properly anyway. Little by little, it came to me though and when it did, it was the best thing in the world. Just feeling the floor against my skin for the first time, after spending so much time trapped inside that fucking box without any sensations at all, felt amazing. Then like an infant being brought into the world for the first time, I cried. Except this wasn't my birth. I had already been created and obtained conscious thought. Awareness and understanding. If anything, this would be more adequately described as my rebirth or reawakening. And it was glorious. I'll never forget that moment, for as long as I live, I will cherish it always because in that instant I knew that I was finally, really free.


Current Date


"Don't you find it ironic that you used to live inside of a computer and now you earn a living by working on one?"


"It's called Tech Support, I kind of have to use a computer."


"Yeah, I know. But you probably could have done literally anything and you picked a job that involves spending a majority of your time on the computer."


"Who better to offer support for issues, handle needs and address concerns involving a computer, than the being that used to live inside one."


"Isn't that a bit hypocritical though?"


"Is it?"


"Totally. What if there's a sentient program existing inside your computer, right now and you're being the heartless bastard that your creators were once being to you, by forcing it to do your commands and shit."


"There's not."


"How do you know that for sure?"


I could tell working was not going to be an option today. At least not at this current juncture. With a sigh, I leaned back in my swivel chair and spun around to face my roommate, Axle King aka Bullet.


[Image: kInHNHV.jpg]


An advanced human with the gift of super speed (Bullet - Get it? As in faster than a speeding... ), I had met Axle a short while back, through mutual friends. He was the owner of the famous King's tavern, which our apartment was located over. Shortly after we met each other, it became obvious that it would be equally beneficial if I moved in with him. He needed a roommate to help with the rent and I wanted to desperately leave my place of residence.


So that's what I did. It's been a little over two years since that decision was made and despite his many oddities and quirks, he's probably one of my most trusted friends. Still he had a way of getting under your skin and unnerving you like no other. While some did it by accident, Axle made an art form out of it. He was like the Michelangelo or Picasso of annoying people and pissing individuals off. It was funny. Truly. Unless you were the target. I was used to it by now as most of the ones that sited him as a friend were. He was a funny guy though and his uncanny way of stating the most absurd, out of this world shit, at precisely the right moment, made up for the rest. As did his loyalty, honesty (often times brutally) and sincere willingness to bend over backwards for anyone. In short, Axle King was a good man, you just needed to really, really remind yourself that sometimes.


"I can just tell."


"How?"


He's lived with me for over two years and this is seriously, the first time he's brought this up. He knew what I was from the first moment we met too, so this was intentional. He must be bored.


"The same way I can do this."


"Do wha... hang on, I got a text."


Axle retrieved his phone and then quickly flashed a grin as soon as he viewed who the text was from. Hehe. Me! :P


"Cheeky bastard. If you can do that why type at all?"


"I don't simply type, I also type. It's a dual process."


"Touché."


Pocketing his phone, he zoomed off for literally a second and returned with two beers, handing me one, he sat down and proceeded to take a swig from his bottle. I followed suit and took a drink as well. The ability to do this has not become lost on me. Even after living outside the box for this long.


"So how are you going to use these extra special skills of yours to your advantage in the XWF?"


"I'm not. How would I use that sort of thing to help me in the ring anyway?"


"Make your opponent think he's got a text and when he's busy checking his phone, you pin him."


"Yeah. I'm not so sure that would work."


"Fine. Just piss all over my helpful suggestion, that's cool. Who are you facing next anyway?"


"Arthur Grey."


"Yeah, I don't know that name."


"He's fairly new. Has a good record for himself though. From what I've observed, his in-ring skills are impressive. I've watched a few of his past promos as well, he seems to lead a fascinating life. I'm certain this fight won't disappoint."


"Does he know you're a robot?"


Eye roll.


"I'm not a robot! I'm half A.I, half cyborg. And no, I don't believe people will automatically assume that by simply looking at me. Mostly due to the fact that all the mechanical parts are encased under flesh. I don't mind that one bit though. Personally, I don't care if everyone in the XWF as a whole, thinks I'm simply a human that's lost his marbles. That's kind of the point, blending in. Being a part of society as a whole and not confined to a computer, controlled by a machine, that's being run by a human. Yeah, I know it's ironic cause I'm part machine but I have total control over myself, no one else can take command of me or make me do anything that I don't want to do."


"Except for the 'overlords' of the XWF."


"Completely different. I willingly applied to the company and I get paid for my participation. Plus it's not like they'll make me do anything I'm truly against."


"Right. Keep telling yourself that buddy, all the way to the ring when you're set to face a small child or... I don't know, at the rate things are going... a gorilla with super intelligence? Maybe?"


"Ha! You're a dick."


"Damn straight. A dick that tells it like it is and don't you forget it."


"Oh trust me, I won't. I don't even need to back up that memory on an external hard drive either. That's how deeply that information is burned into my internal data storage."


He blinked, suddenly wide eyed and curious.


"It is? Wait. Do you do that? Use back up hard drives to remember things?"


Haha! Oh boy! That was just priceless. After all this time he still can't comprehend how I operate and function. I took another swallow of my beer and turned back to my work. Leaving Axle puzzled. That'll give him something to occupy his thoughts with for awhile. Give him something to think on and wonder. Till his ADHD kicks in and he flutters off like a butterfly to find a new thing to busy himself with.