PART 4
“In the beginning there was Man. Then Man made the Machine. In his own likeness, thus did Man become the Architect of his own demise” – Zion Archives
Corey Stewart was dead. The office working son of an Irish-Catholic family was no more. From his ashes though would arise a stronger, smarter individual who would fight for what he believed was right. In those times, LinksLife honestly believed in that one simple truth. It had taken some getting used to naturally. One didn’t just keep on going after finding out that the world they knew was nothing but a lie. In the week following his Awakening, he was introduced formally to the rest of the “crew” as Anubitz had called it. He had to admit, those he had met in the Matrix certainly did look like themselves here in the Real World. He though, would have to wait for his red hair to grow back before he even began to look anything like his old self. Thankfully, he could already feel the hair coming back in.
The ship they were on was called The Holy Lance. Anubitz was the Captain; Lightwalker was the First-Mate. The ship was the head of the overall faction, Mechanicus Novus. “A faction,” explained Anubitz, “is a collective group of crews and ships working together under the same name. In turn, the factions all work for the collective ideals of their leaders, in our case, The Machines.” When Links had asked why all the crews didn’t all work together Anubitz chuckled. “Not all crews see eye to eye. In fact, we are seen as weak in the eyes of the Machine community. There are the juggernaut factions, such as The Collective and The Rakshas, and then there are the diplomatic factions, like The Mega City Dept of Energy and us. Of course we fight when required, and you can bet your *** you will fight within your first 24 hours as an operative in The System.”
“But I am getting ahead of myself. I haven’t even explained the history to you yet. This is a long story, one that I never get tired of telling.” After making sure that Links was fully paying attention, Anubitz continued. “Now, in the Matrix the year is ALWAYS 1999. Not even I am sure how the Machines do it. Here in the Real though… it would be more accurate to put the year at around 3100 A.D. Again, no one is completely sure because most of our records have been lost to the Machines. Back in the turn of the 21st century, Mankind had finally given birth to A.I. Suddenly humanity found itself no longer needing to do hard labor because they could have the robots do it for them. For a time, it was good. But eventually, we became paranoid. The classic movie cliché, “The Robot Uprising.” It reached a peak when, finally, one robot snapped. B1663R was its name. From what we know, he was a butler-class robot, required to follow anything that its master told it to do. Well, its master had found out his wife was having an affair with his neighbor and in a fit of rage, told B1-66ER to kill the man. When the robot refused, its master threatened to kill it. In, what B1’s defense argued, self-defense, it killed its master.”
Pausing, Anubitz watch the fictional gears turn in Links’ head. “So… humanity became so paranoid, they put him… or it, to death?”
Anubitz’s face grimed. “Much worse. The case had worked its way up to the Supreme Court. The Justices had ruled that Machines did not have constitutional rights as they were not humans. As such, B1-66ER and a vast majority of his class were killed. Many, robots and human alike, challenged the ruling. In what would become known as The Million Machine March, protesters around the world gathered in Washington and demanded for the Court to change their minds. Every single being there was killed. Humans then exiled all Machines. From there, the Machines made their way to the Middle East, ironically, back to the “birth place” of humanity: The Fertile Crescent. It was there that they built their own Nation. They named it Zero One. It was from there that we rescued you, in The Fields as they are called.”
He paused again before continuing. “Zero One prospered amazingly well, too well for some. In the blink of an eye, The Machines had taken over the world economy, mass producing cars, TVs, Buildings, and just about anything electronic. Machines don’t need to stop. Car companies around the world were going bankrupted while Zero One continued to grow in economic power. Many in power suspected that the Machines would soon begin amassing a military too great for the nations of the world to handle. But our hate, our fear of the Machines would be our undoing. When ambassadors from Zero One came to the United Nations, seeking entry in order to improve relations with the human nations, we not only denied them, but killed the ambassadors. And so would begin the Man/Machine War. The United Nations was all too happy to begin bombings of Zero One, dropping all kinds of bombs and weaponry on top of the metal city. While the explosions caused damage, the radiation could not affect the Machine soldiers, and so they kept moving. One by one, the major cities of the world fell to the Machines and their unstoppable army. As more and more nations fell, the humans attempted one last attack against them: Operation Dark Storm. In the ultimate act against the Earth, the humans decided that the only way to defeat the Machines was to cut off their main energy supply: The Sun. And so, we filled the sky with Nano-bots that placed the whole world in a thick electrical storm, from which the Sun would never touch the ground again. Once the Sun was blotted out forever, the humans launched a massive ground assault against the Machines. They failed.”
“Thus, the end of human rule came to an end. As a way of showing the humans just who had won, the Machines shed their “skin” as it were. The old human models they took after were destroyed in favor of the squid-like forms you see today. Once again, Zero One sent an ambassador to the UN, this time to negotiate an armistice with the human nations. From what we know, the ambassador said only three lines to the leaders of the world: ‘Your flesh is a relic, a mere vessel. Hand over your flesh and a new world awaits you. We demand it.’ Then it detonated a nuclear bomb, destroying New York City and killing all the world leaders. With that, the war ended. But now the Machines had a problem. Without the sun, they would not survive. They also had to decide what to do with the billions of humans that now were broken and defenseless. And so, they came up with an idea. They would use the thermal energy generated in every human to power their city. And so, the Matrix was born.”
Links sat there for a few minutes, mouth open in shock and horror. Finally he asked, “But… why do we work for the Machines? They enslaved us! Used us like batteries! How can we work for them?!”
“I’m not saying the Machines are innocent. They have done truly terrible things. But the way I see it… is we are repaying the Machines. Think about it. The Machines would not have been this way had humanity simply been more accepting of them. Christ, we treated them like dogs. I want to show them that the human race is better than the bigots of before. I want peace. Neo, The One, bought us that peace at the cost of his own life. There are those in Zion though, that would throw it all away just because they hate the Machines for the lies. Others… like Morpheus… want Neo’s body back. To him, Neo is a martyr, a messiah. Hell, I’ve heard rumors that there are people in Zion who worship him. Morpheus still does not trust the Machines, believes that humans must take back what was theirs. He would ruin everything he fought for… an end to the war, because he wants Neo’s body back!” Anubitz rumbled. “No, I don’t know why the Machines won’t hand over his body if you were going to ask.”
At that, Links looked down. “This is all so much… it doesn’t seem real at all…” When he looked up, Anubitz had a hand on his shoulder and a smile painted on his face.
“I can assure you, the world you are in is very real. However, now we must enter the world of dreams and lies. As per the terms of the Treaty between the Machines and Zion, all newly awakened Redpills must take introductory mission in the system before they can begin working for their organization.”
Somehow, they had managed to get to the control room during the talk, because the next thing Links knew, he was laying back on a small chair, a hole in the headrest. The leather cushions did little to make him comfortable.
Anubis looked down at Links with a smile a parent could only give. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you shortly. I have to warn you though… the first time is always a little weird.” Links tried to understand what he had said before the captain shoved a metal rod into the base of Links’ skull. The first thing he felt was pain. Horrible pain. Next he felt sad, then happy, then depressed and all the other possible feelings one could experience, all in the span of a second. And just like that, he was now in a vast white room, Anubitz waiting for him in his suit. “One of the good things about The Matrix? We look good in leather. You don’t look half bad either, with a full head of hair that is.” He laughed as Links ran his hand through his hair, feeling the green leather trench coat that he now wore.
“Where are we? This isn’t the Matrix, is it?” Links asked after a moment of inspection.
“Not quite. We are in the Loading Area. Here, we can load whatever we want for whatever occasion. You want clothes? The Loading Area will run a clothing program. Guns? Every type you could imagine and then some!” As he said this, another man appeared along with two chairs and a small table with what looked like a briefcase full of medicine pills.
“You called?” he asked nonchalantly. From his expression, he didn’t want to be here.
“Indeed we did. Links, this is our RSI program. That is to say, your mind will create an image of yourself each time you ‘jack-in’ to the Matrix. We like to call this a Residual Self Image. However, with the help of RSI pills, you can change your look. Go ahead, take a look. You may find out that you will like whatever you choose.”
And so Links did. He didn’t spend a lot of time choosing as most of it was hair style and color, and he had always liked his dark red hair in a small ponytail. He had ended up just taking a pill that added a tattoo to his face: four small curves arching out from his eyes like waves. Anubitz grinned. “And now for the thing that completes the image, your sunglasses. Black Void Glasses, a favorite of one exile supporter ‘The Endless Void,’ but many have seemed to also wear them.” Grabbing them from the case Anubitz had presented, Links slowly put them on. Strangely enough, he could still see as clear as if it was day, but he had learned that strange things were plentiful here.
LinksLife smirked. “When do I start?”
***
“Since then… well, you know the rest. Faction is killed besides VitaminI and I, I’m moved to The Machines faction which becomes the Mega City Police Dept. There I meet The Devil’s Advocates and their characters such as WGAnubis and The Great Wyrm. Anubis puts the program Vanon in me, he gets killed, I am thrown to Wyrm as payment for a debt the Dept. of Energy owes, and now… I’m here.” LinksLife finished his tale to the new recruits of The Devils Advocates. Sieges, the woman he had come to love as a sister, chuckled as one of the new recruits, DarkestSinn, sat there wide-eyed.
“How have you managed so long?” she finally asked, after studying the man. Indeed, the only big change from four years ago was that his trench coat was now blood red, a bandana covering his face, and he had a strange symbol on his left hand. It was the seal of the Ouroboros, the snake that consumes its own tail as a sign of the cycle of life and death.
Links remained impassive. “I am an Ouroboros. I do not live, I do not die. I simply exist. That is what Wyrm told me. Indeed, I have cheated death quite a number of times and each time, I am reborn as a new person. I have no doubt that, unless someone finds a kill-code for me and makes sure that I am truly dead in the Real, I will be here for quite some time.”
“Man…” came the reply of Noxton. “I hope I get to survive that long.”
LinksLife sighed as he turned to leave the group. “No… No you don’t.”
