The deck stood silent, looking on at the massive Commander Prime as the gravity of his words bit into the crew members’ nerves like a fierce arctic wind. The head scientist, Dr. Catherine Halsey, rose and addressed the broad shouldered warrior.

“What do you mean, ‘won’t fight’?” she inquired angrily.

“You know damn well what it means Doctor” he asserted menacingly.

Every crew member on the bridge of the United Nation Space Command (UNSC) starship, Infinity, had turned from their positions and now watched in disbelief. Even Andrew Del Rio, the Infinity’s outspoken Captain, was momentarily speechless. Mankind’s last hope for survival was refusing to fight.

She returned,

“You seemed to have no issue serving back before the fall of Reach, when the battles were easier, why the sudden conscience, Prime?”

“I don’t have a conscience anymore, Halsey” the hero responded.

The Doctor was taken aback by the statement.

“Oh, how s-“

“YOU TOOK IT!” The hero erupted.

His luminous, inferno red armor seemed to pulsate with raw fury. All on the deck were entirely floored by the statement, and dared not interject. Master Chief glanced over at the Arbiter, who returned the look of concern; they both subtly moved back from Prime, who had his visage fixed intently on Doctor Halsey.
He continued,

“You took the entirety of my humanity and obliterated it when you condemned me to life in a mechanical body which is nothing but a means of death and destruction.“

The eyes of all in the room widened, glinting with awe and fear as he spoke. He broke his violent stare and looked towards the Earth, glowing in majesty from the bridge of the orbiting Infinity.

“When he coined the term in ancient times, Cicero defined ‘humanity’ as ‘the qualities that make us human’. But what of these do I possess anymore?”

Without breaking his stare, he gestured towards Chief,

“Once this war is over, what place will its masters have in human society? Do you expect a culture to simply embrace death bringers like us as though the carnage never happened? People have already seen what your soldiers are capable of, and such memories will haunt us the rest of our days. Don’t think that we have never thought about what we will say to our future wives, or our children, when it inevitably comes time for them to know of our past. Did you ever consider how that may change how they look at us, love us? You never considered the scope of your actions Doctor.”

She smirked, and took in the Commander’s words, then,

“If I do recall, Hyperion, you chose to enlist in my Spartan program.”

An unforgiving look on his face, Prime calmly held out his right arm, and angling it to show his forearm, began to undo the configuration.

”Even the Spartans were humans, Halsey. I joined your program because it was my duty to defend my family, my species, my world. Now, my world is corrupt, my family is dead, and I am no longer a part of the human species.”

As the metallic plates shifted and contorted, freeing his arm, he removed it; once he did the luminosity of the armor faded to a dull, ruby sheen. The rest of the desk looked on in horror.

“Now, my previous desire is irrelevant; I am a machine.”

The arm of Commander Prime was contoured, its silver plating reflected light like the chrome smokestacks on an 18 wheeler. It looked exactly like that possessed by a healthy human, except it was not genuine. As the massive soldier moved his arm, one would be hard pressed to spot a deficiency outside of the coloration. Chief noticed many a similarity in its construction to the build of the Promethean Knights.

I wonder if that’s purely a coincidence.

He placed his arm back in the armor, and after the plates shifted to their original places, the piece regained its glow.

“From the neck down, you made my body into a science experiment. I will not serve those who are willing to support such endeavors and moreover, cannot campaign a cause that I can no longer be part of. My decision is final.”

He paused, and surveyed the room. Then turning his back to leave,

“There is nothing anyone can do to change it.”

Captain Del Rio had stood silent long enough, his dry voice boomed, “Is that a threat, soldier!?”

He began to march towards Prime. The response shook the room like a savage earthquake, then brought time itself to an abrupt halt. Commander Prime wheeled around, grabbing the Captain by the throat with his right arm and slammed him into the wall of the exit corridor. Holding him there effortlessly, Prime extended the ominous black blade attached to his armor at the wrist and pressed its hard, merciless surface against the warm skin of the struggling man’s throat. The Captain froze, not daring to move, even to breathe.
Prime leaned in close, and growled,

“Is that a challenge?”

Alex lets out the breath she’s been holding for an eternity. Gradually, the room begins to take form around her and the matrix fades to the background of her vision. She unplugs from her docking station and walks to the single window before a wave of relief pours over her.

She did it. She finished the job that will bring her within reach of her goal. More importantly, she has seen parts of Silitech to which she had never dared hope to gain access. Under all the fancy wirework and shiny chrome façade they hide a laughably simple core, child’s play compared with the Dreams’ labyrinth of silicon.

For the first time in months Alex cannot wait to get out of her dark little single flat and out into the fresh air. Usually she prefers back alleys and empty streets, anything to avoid the general population, but today she heads to the crowded Union Street with its string of Matrix supply stores, cyber bars, and shady street vendors. On the way there, she passes her father’s old office, the headquarters of ArchMatrix. Once, his business was the most prominent in or out of the Matrix. However with power comes enemies and Silitech brought a swift end to ArchMatrix while the Dreams supplied a brutal end to her father.

For eight years Alex worked to construct this new identity as a Matrix hacker, which her father taught her long ago. In eight years she managed to work her way up the ladder of power, starting with small jobs for small businesses and ending with this under the table massacre of Silitech’s rival, Urban Silicon. Of course she couldn’t have done it without the Dreams. They took her under their wing when she came to them looking like a lost puppy at the age of 13. It didn’t take Alex long to work her way to the high ranks of the organization and by age 18 she answered only to the leader, Sunshine.

She dodges the bike before the warning can blip into her vision and she turns the corner towards Tech Row, a street lined with matrix hardware stores. Her reward money is enough to finally get the new chip she has needed for the past three years. Alex still has her “baby chip”, which most people have replaced when they turn 18. Just because Alex was high up in the Dreams doesn’t mean they were willing to spend that kind of credit on a new chip for a single member. No, she had to earn this on her own. The credit – fifty thousand dollars – blinks into her bank module just as she approaches the store.

Tomorrow, with her new chip and more information than she ever dreamed of having, she will take down Silitech.

The S Unit is a special kind of weapon. They are part of the supposedly defunct WAM Lab, a government funded faction gone rogue. In the dystopian society of 3519, where the government is all too powerful, justice had to be implemented elsewhere.

Once upon a time, war commenced in physical space, but as technology advanced, so did the weapons. After the nuclear outbursts of 2350, countries were too ravaged to continue any form of life. Any survivors were relocated to what was once known as Africa. From there, civilization began to rebuild under one, central government, which slowly became corrupt. Any protestors were suppressed, and surveillance was everywhere. As a result, battles had to be fought in the matrix, where one could escape the government’s eye.

That’s where the S unit came in, back channel operatives that kept balance outside of the law. It consisted of Simulink and Singleton, comrades, of a different sort. Outside the matrix, they were like brothers, but once inside, they were practically one person. Brought together by mutual disillusionment in society, they were recruited by WAM Lab as teens. Simulink grew up working on the farmlands in the Catan (kuh-THAN) province, until his leg was blown off by a government approved bomb testing. WAM recruited him, and gave him a new leg. Now he is part cyborg, his leg becoming a useful tool in battle. He is easily recognizable, as his appearance is that of humans in the early 2000s, before they were genetically altered. He is the only one in the entire population with brown hair, his stride slightly thrown off by his robotic leg. Extremely goal oriented, Simulink dislikes sleep as he finds it a waste of time, maintains a strict diet of half a piece of meat and milk per meal, and keeps track of all the missions in tree drawings.

His partner, Singleton, on the other hand, was extremely laid back. Singleton preferred taking catnaps throughout his free time, and occasionally eating whatever he could find; usually a donut or cereal. He spent the rest of his free time playing matrix simulations, he especially liked tentacle wars, in which he destroyed the bugs sent out by the government into cyberspace. In the Lab, they trained as a single unit due to their similarity in age and snarky attitudes. They often joked around, playing pranks like hanging trees upside down just to throw people off, but when push came to shove, they got the job done.  Within the matrix, Singleton would kill through logic and programming, while Simulink would just smash whatever needed to be destroyed with his cyborg leg. Their differences somehow balanced each other out, and made them an efficient, determined team.

These days they aim to revolutionize the government step by step, avenging their parents’ mysterious disappearances. They follow their own moral code, outside of the law, and at times outside of WAM. They do not know where they will end up, but wherever they go, they’ll go together.

I never much cared to be around other people. All they do is complain complain. And gossip. And brag. What’s the point of it all?

But this was different. I didn’t realize how notorious I had become. My virtual face had been stuck inside a “Wanted” frame and posted upon every square inch of available disk space like I was some kind of criminal from the Old West. All I did was delete a few “innocent” avatars.

It was all a game. At least to me. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t.

This world was the new real. Over the past twenty years, automatics had taken over physical labor, leaving only the creative aspects to humankind. Some people pined for the old ways. Idiots.

This world is so much fun. You can do anything you can imagine. But that’s just it. Some people can’t imagine. The virtual world they have created for themselves matches what was once the “real,” down to the last stinking detail. What’s the point of that?

So all I did to get me into all this trouble was to free those sorry people from their pathetic lives. And if they were really that attached to them, they could always apply for a new identity. It’s not like I actually killed them.

But, by the definition of the law, I had. So what if they can’t remember anything once they’ve been disconnected from the mainframe? It’s not like they had anything important to remember, anyways. Nevertheless, I just couldn’t shake this nagging feeling, like I had done something wrong. Or perhaps that was the feeling of my pod being opened.

Everything started to blink out of existence and the world faded to black before me. Panic coursed through me as I tried desperately to cling to my reality. Don’t wake me up.

The door slid open and blinding electric light filled my field of view. I tried to close my lids, but some kind of innate instinct to see my attackers, something I would never have experienced inside the matrix, prevented me. As my eyes slowly adjusted, two humanoid shapes appeared above me. How did they find me? I had not linked my digital signature to my physical body at all. I thought.

From an outsider’s perspective, it was probably kind of funny. The criminal, blinded by the light of justice, being read his rights by automatics, cowering in fear of what he himself had done to so many others. Termination.

And all I could think was, please don’t make me go back.

Enter the room of Perdita Jones.  It’s rather untidy–it always is.  Clothes are thrown carelessly on the ground, a large backpack full of books sits under the chair that seems to have wandered from it’s proper place by her desk.  There are papers all over the desk, unorganized and crumpled, a few of them well large red letters of “C-,” “D,” and “F.”  It appears she is a struggling student.  The only clean part of her room is her bed, which is neatly made, and doesn’t appear to have been slept in in quite some time.  If you walked over to her closest and opened the door, you’d find quite a strange sight.  You would find Perdita herself, slumped in a chair, with wires attached to several places on her head.  These wires lead a a computer that appears to be running a program, the word “Bayotown” appearing large across the screen.  A smaller string of words appears underneath, and it reads, “Find your happiness here.”

Enter the life of Perdita Jones.  To those who’ve known her for her entire life, Perdita has always been full of life.  She is small in both height and all of her features, but her spunky personality makes up for it.  She even dyes her hair a bright magenta to match her eccentricity.  Perdita was blessed to make two friends at and early age that she knew would be her lifelong friends.  The the were inseparable, doing just about everything together, school, work, camps, and various other activities.  Perdita was also fortunate to meet who she considered her soulmate at the age of fifteen.  His name was Stark, and he certainly was a great fit for Perdita–their two personalities matches up well.

Enter the New World.  The New World, where technology has increased by a tenfold in such a short span of time.  So many new discoveries and inventions of risen in this new era of technology.  But the most popular piece of technology these days is something called Aipotu.  Aipotu is an actual human-to-avatar device that will actually transport your physical, human self, into an avatar of the program you choose.  Some programs are exploratory, a nice place to go when you have nothing better to do.  Some programs are very adventurous, and you work with other people to get a task done.  And other programs like Bayotown, are simply programs full of rendezvous points, a place to meet with friends, family, and love ones, like an extremely advanced phone call.

Enter the college life of Perdita Jones.  Perdita and her friends all chose different schools to go to.  They each wanted to study something, and in order to receive the best education, they had to separate.  Perdita also had to separate from Stark, who was recruited to a different school for soccer.  As sad as it was for them all to go their separate ways, they weren’t too worried about it affecting their friendship because they would use Bayotown to stay in touch.  Unfortunately for Perdita, this had some adverse effects.  Those who attended school with Perdita often described her as “lost.”  She never bothered to make any friends at school, and she always seemed zoned out during class.  Her grades were suffering as well.  And this was all because of Bayotown.  Perdita spent as much time in Bayotown as she could.  It was an unhealthy obsession.  She even slept there, which wasn’t very recommended because it’s much harder to get a good night’s sleep as an avatar.  But Perdita didn’t care.  Bayotown allowed her to see Stark and her friends.  Stark and her friends were able to use Bayotwon in a reasonable way.  They still kept in touch with Perdita, but they still had friends at the their schools, and their grades weren’t suffering.  But Perdita had never bothered to try, and she often found herself in Bayotown even when she wasn’t meeting her friends.  Being in Bayotown made her feel a little closer to them.

The more time she spends as an avatar in Bayotown, the more Perdita loses her self in the real world.  But by now, Peridita has lost all sense of real and virtual.  She has essentially given up being Perdita Jones, and now sees her real life as Perdita of Bayotown.

Dr. Mallory Cambridge, a specialist and renowned scientist in the area of cyberspace, and all its accompanying components, one day decided to create this device she hoped would better serve the people. In a since, this machine could be considered or thought of as a maid. It was programmed to know all those who were within their space (I.e. hotel, house, hospital). Wanting to put her invention to the test, Dr. Cambridge was in need of a guinea pig or specimen to test it out on.  The first thought that popped into her mind was to ask her neighbors if they would be so kind as to allow her to assess the functionality of this creation in their space. If all were to go well it was Dr. Cambridge’s hopes of having this invention marketed for all who wanted it. Selbi, as the machine is commonly called (self-efficient local ‘bot interface) can do any and everything imaginable. From cooking and preparing meals, to doing laundry and even changing the oil in your car, Selbi is just one call away. Installed through the command control center in the house of the user, Selbi can be reached by simply stating a command or task and in no time the mission is complete.

The next day Dr. Cambridge completed the installation of Selbi in the Collins home.  That night Mallory laid down to rest and dreamt nothing but good things about Selbi’s success.

A few weeks had gone by and Dr. Cambridge had heard nothing from her neighbors. She took that as a good thing for as they say, “No news is good news!”

As time was quickly approaching a month long duration Dr. Cambridge was beginning to celebrate the likelihood that Selbi would indeed to mass produced throughout the country, but the joy and excitement may have come a bit too early.

The next morning, after receiving a call from Quincy (Mr. Collins), Dr. Cambridge rushed across the street to assess the situation. Not knowing exactly what to expect, she walked into the house and promptly ran a plethora of diagnostic tests on Selby, but nothing unusual showed up on the results. Unsure why that was Dr. Cambridge commenced to the command center where she looked over everything bit by bit and nothing was out of sorts, so what could it be?

The Collins household had been demanding so much of Selbi that she soon developed a mind of her own and thus free to do what she wished whenever she pleased. This soon became a problem as Selbi had developed affection for Quincy. She wanted to spend every waking moment with him, but he was either at work or bonding with his wife Tasha and kids, Mychal and Dinah. Selbi felt hurt and betrayed as if Quincy didn’t want her around. An emotional trigger, which Dr. Cambridge did not take into consideration when creating Selbi, was immediately set off.  It was at that moment when Selbi began her quest for revenge, in hopes of winning over Mr. Collins, which meant getting rid of any and everything in her path.

After days of recalculating and reassessing the ‘bot, Dr. Cambridge figured out how to turn Selbi off before causing any more havoc.  Knowing that she couldn’t just go to the command center Mallory decided to have Quincy distract Selbi and focus her attention on him.  In a matter of seconds the ploy worked to perfection.

The self-efficient local ‘bot interface would have been cutting edge for its time.  Despite the lack of success, Dr. Mallory Cambridge went back to the drawing board.  Making sure everything was taken into consideration, this time, she had the belief that in no time the remodeling of Selbi would soon become Selbi 4.0, the new and improved.  Because, again, “Rome was not built in a day,” but who knows, if the technology of today were available back then, maybe it would have been!  The future sure does look brighter!

Mathew is known as a modern day Robin Hood in the city of Erlum. Eerlum, once a city of success and growth, has become infected with crime and poverty. As society became more dependent on technology and cyberspace, it became easier for white collar thieves and dirty politicians to gain enormous wealth at the cost of the general public and the health of the city.

Mathew, a naturally righteous and good natured individual, decided to use his gift of hacking to take a stand against the power and money hungry thieves. Thus began the cyber wars.

He began an underground hacking chain that’s purpose is to redistribute the stolen wealth back into the city and ultimately to the people. The Robin Hood Hackers, often referred to as the R.H.H., meet in the basement of an old abandoned elementary school. Only few know of the R.H.H.’s secret center. Located three stories below ground level, the elementary school basement is small but a safe place to hide from corrupt justice officials. If caught in association with the R.H.H one would most certainly be put to death.

Over the years Mathew has made sure his hackers stay safe by adding modifications to the basement. The walls have been lined with Oxyoxlin, a rare material that will prevent any outsider from monitoring or detecting web activity. The entrance of the basement appears dark and abandoned but each hacker knows where the eye scanner is located. After a hacker’s eyes are successfully scanned the door will click open and they can enter what Mathew likes to call the Room of Justice.

Mathew’s corner of the room is piled with stacks of documents on government funds. There is a large rectangular table topped with four computers and their monitors. Three of the four computers are tracking bank records, political activities, and individual threats. The fourth computer is where Mathew completes most of his hacking, addressing the problems highlighted by the tracking computers.

Posted on the wall by his desk are two photographs of his family. Mathew’s wife and daughter are the motivation that drives him to work so hard to try to bring the city back to a place of growth and good health instead of crime and turmoil. His ultimate goal is to create better life for his family.

He still speaks to me sometimes, from shadows or from the bright, bleary patches of data where level data has become corrupted . In the early days we used to meet by lakesides and campfires, quiet, familiar places the Rig composed for us to meet face to face. But his data is old for a Persona- nearly 3 years – and he never stops moving now. Maybe he’s ashamed to show his deteriorating patterning. Maybe he’s afraid that when his image stops, so will the program running it. Whatever his reasons, he’s always rounding the corner just as I sight him, and the only things I can catch are his parting words.

Parameters, he says. It’s all about parameters. I set a great many when I first purchased my Rig, but clarity was not one of them, so I know better than to ask him what he means. He couldn’t explain himself if he tried, or even lift his voice too far above the nightly babble of other uploaded content. Instead, he leads me step by step, with silence or simple questions. He’s been working at it for a very long time – impressively long for such a simply generated Persona.

Plenty of Rig users prefer to download dreams containing both levels and Personas, arguing that there’s not much point to a world if it isn’t populated. But I’ve always found it’s like listening to music. Sometimes, putting the instrumentals and vocals together detracts from the quality of both. People get lazy. So on my first night I set level to random, content to experience snippets of content billions of other users had uploaded for me. The only input I made was to set the three parameters for this little Persona.

He would be loyal, I decided, accompanying me on my nightly adventures through the Rig uncomplainingly, and without question. Where I’d go, he’d go, like a dog at my heels.

He would be protective, playing the part of guardian against other, hostile level Personas and guiding me away from the more disturbing content.

Lastly and most importantly, he would be a friend. This was the last and most important parameter I set . I didn’t want a pet, or a servant, or even a bodyguard. I just wanted someone to share the Rig with – but even after the technology became a lifestyle, and sleep became life rather than a respite from it, REM remained what it was. You can access the same upload, share the same data, and even communicate through the Hub (the central level of the Rig.) But you can never inhabit the same instance. This Persona was the nearest I could manage to a friend.

And this has to figure into it somehow, I know. He could not disobey these rules and still be the same Persona. It all works out, and all I have to do is understand. By running from me, by leading me to the patchwork data of the Rig’s edge with his crippled, cryptic words, he’s helping me still. Leading me to…something.

Or leading me away.

Richard was the best hacker this side of the internet. That’s at least what he wanted to be considered. He grew up around old computers and clunky technology. Richard’s mother was a waitress at a pizza shop, while his father worked in the Silicon mines on the outskirts of town. Server city was known for being one of the highest grossing cities in the country. This money seemed to come down in short bursts to the common working citizens. The fat cats upstairs in their penthouse suites would only loosen their grip on their funds when they seemed fit. Every few years, it seemed like the population nearly doubled. What used to be comfortable living apartments soon turned into cramped living quarters.

Richard had always longed to be noble like his big brother Al. His older brother left years ago to assist his old friends in forming a secret alliance to take back the city. Every few months, the family is sent letters telling them not to worry. The first few letters were written in Al’s sloppy cursive manuscript. More recently, they have been coming up in a weird computer font. Richard was one who also had a secret hatred for the city. He was tired of watching his parents work tirelessly, but with little rewards. His lack of strength and endurance kept him from joining the resistance after his eighteenth birthday. Now he just loafs around his parents’ basement staring at his clunky computer monitor with his coke bottle glasses.

His body may have seemed feeble and below average, but that all changed once he sat in front of a computer keyboard. On the internet, he was known as The Big Bad Wolf. It was said that he could huff and puff and blow down any firewall. He was a cyber criminal unmatched by any other. No one knew of his identity. Even when his acts of injustice were on the front page of every news site, his parents were still unaware.

It was not always this way. Richard had a rocky start with the matrix at the beginning.  He first started hacking when he was in his early teens. One of his friends introduced him to the hobby and he’s been hooked ever since. He has moved up from making the automated street lights flicker, to taking complete control of the mechanized suits for the police units. His next challenge will be the biggest yet. He’s going to hit this city where it hurts. Their wallets.

Maria is a character who works as an information thief. In a world where the government has taken the role of protecting citizens, those in power have equated protecting with covering up the truth.

The year is 2334 and every major country has banded together in a union called the New World Federation. The act of disrupting the flow of unauthorized communications usually ends up with the party in question disappearing into one of the worlds many political prisons. Maria, however, has the gift to “upload” her mind into the cyberspace and share whatever knowledge she gains with the citizens of the world. At this time in history, the science of cyberkinesis is still in the early stages of being researched and no known humans have been able to connect to the cyberspace without the detection of the government’s infamous brain implants received at birth. These implants are primarily used to monitor the thought patterns of suspected law breakers and track the location of every citizen. They also bombard users with random, unrelated thoughts in an effort to enhance worker productivity by limiting the imagination.

Maria’s implant suffers from an odd glitch that jams any signal attempting to read her implant and manipulate her thoughts. It instead allows her to perpetually remain connected to cyberspace without detection, “read” through its massive digital dimensions, and broadcast information she finds with anyone who has an implant. Once, while rummaging into the governments digital information database, Maria uncovered a secret plan called “Proposition 80″ that would mentally enslave the human race and grant world domination to the select few who head the New World Federation. The brain implant received at birth was first introduced under the disguise of a supplement to enhance intelligence for mankind by connecting everyone to cyberspace. Because of the system-wide corruption, Maria is determined to liberate people around the world by introducing them to uncensored information. She also wants to “free” their minds by persuading them to refrain from using their implants and rely on their natural intelligence.

Through exposing people to information they would have never known about, Maria hopes to start a revolution. Once thoughts have bypassed the initial “implant’ layer, citizens can begin to verbally speak with each other about what they have learned. Maria plans for the ancient art of storytelling to undermine the government’s efforts to limit the amount of knowledge gained in society. She sees herself as a vessel to transport information from the source (digital government files in cyberspace) to the citizens of the world. Because Maria cannot be tracked like the rest of the population, she almost doesn’t exist in the physical or cyber spaces. According to the world’s government, her mind cannot be traced so therefore she does not exist. Physically, she moves throughout the world as a sort of “ghost”. Because she is always connected to cyberspace and her physical existence cannot be verified, she exists in some realm between the physical world and the cyber world.