Page 3 of GlitchBorn Heart

The patio door below us opens; a new prototype AI dog barks incessantly, sounding like a glass pane shattering in slow motion. Or is it a human voice whispering the word “Woof” at four hundred times the speed? Either way, it annoys me, as our neighbor yells something about getting up and getting out of DreamNet to her son.

DreamNet. Created for my generation by the Corporation because after that night, we stopped dreaming. Not metaphorically. Literally. A place where we can virtually go to drift into imagined worlds. DreamNet is where we build alternate realities, awake or asleep.

I flip the page and title my next piece: “The Birth of the Dreamless.” I begin to sketch the horizon splitting open.

My generation woke up altered at the molecular level, powerful and powerless, because it stripped away our means of escape.

I smudge the charcoal to make it look like the sky is glitching. It leaves the tips of my fingers blacked out. How ironic. No dreams of a better life or a better place. No dreams of a future without corporations. A future blacked out by corporate entities and AI systems belonging only to those rich enough and influential enough to have it.

A delivery drone buzzes just above me, its robotic steel arm slicing into the air to drop a holo-ad at my feet, then fluttering away quickly and neatly. I pick it up; a woman smiles brightly, selling artificial starlight subscriptions for your home. “Own the sky again!” it promises.

I let out a humorless laugh.

They took our freedom, our futures, and our ability to imagine a world without them. But they didn’t realize something else happened that night. They woke us up.

I close the sketchbook and hold it tightly against my chest. A last look out over the city, wires, neon, rain, and all, before it starts to slither its way into my day.

They think they control our power. They’re wrong. StarFell made us into something they can’t fully control, especially now that we can artificially dream. We’re far more dangerous now.

They should’ve left us sleeping dreamless, because now the dreams are manufactured, and the thoughts are more organized. And the memories?

Now they’re weapons.

2

ShadowCoded

Playlist: Darkside (Besomorph Mix) - Neoni, Besomorph

Kael

“LINK, what’s the weather?” I lower my wrist, using that same hand to grab my black hoodie, something to conceal my identity in a city that never sleeps, always watching. I didn’t just build a digital assistant for myself, I created LINK, a virtual AI for the largest corporation in the world. A ghost in the machine that now assists every citizen with every aspect of their neon-drenched life. Including me.

HELLO DR. RYUDON

EXPECT LIGHT SHOWERS AROUND EIGHT P.M.

CHANCE OF ACIDIC RAIN: TEN PERCENT

A LIGHT JACKET SHOULD SUFFICE

ENJOY YOUR EVENING

It’s my own doing, I snicker to myself. Control equals safety, Kael. My soul tugs at the logic threads in my brain. “LINK—make a note to add the temperature to your code in the morning.”

AS YOU WISH DR. RYUDON

Chaos. It nearly ended us after StarFell. It tore through cities, breaking the best minds, separating families, and killing those who were different. I refuse to let that kind of fear and hatred swallow the world again. Not on my watch.

So, I build artificial cages. Complex systems that keep the dangerous contained, the rebellious boxed in, and the unpredictable safe. Well, that’s what Vikktor Vosse, CEO of VikkCorp, tells me.

I was raised on the principles from The Art of War: Order is the only thing standing between civilization and collapse. Control must be obtained through clear leadership, consistent discipline, and strategy.

A strong leader creates a situation where victory is inevitable before battle even begins.

And that’s what I tell myself. And some days...I even believe it.

Because if my programs keep the chaos of real life out, then the chaos inside me stays locked down too, hidden in the shadows. My work protects the world, but it also keeps me imprisoned in my own cage. A righteous one albeit.