Chương 7

Minutes stretched into hours as Ethan tried to see if he was missing anything. Trying to shoot the tiles far away proved futile. There was no pattern in their change, and even the solid ones sometimes turned illusory while he was in contact with them, with no discernible time frame. If this was about courage, though, his overcautious approach probably wasn't the best way to gather information. With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and slapped his cheeks.

After a few deep breaths and long exhales, he shook his limbs and beat his chest with his fist. Okay. Courage. You can do this. Trust yourself and your choice. Doubt means death. Follow the plan without hesitation. You got this. He slipped his backpack over his shoulder and cracked his neck.

'Still no pattern in their behavior, right, Ani?'

'No, they appear to change their state randomly.'

'Can you tell whether there are any contrasts among them?'

'More data is needed for extensive research.' Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to choose his words carefully with this version of his old friend.

'Are there any visual differences between the tiles?'

'They look the same; however, some of them reflect the light of the stars above, while others create their own light, causing a minuscule difference in brightness.' Ethan's eyes snapped open.

'What!? Which ones? Wait. Tell me about this one,' he said, pointing toward the nearest tile.

'It reflects the starlight.' He took out his bamboo stick and leaned over to probe the tile. It was a solid one.

'How about now?'

'Still reflects the starlight.' Solid again.

'Now?'

'Now it creates its own light.' There was no change whatsoever, but the bamboo stick passed through the tile without any resistance. Ethan gulped and got to work, testing every single tile he could reach for the next 10 minutes. To his immense delight, the ones reflecting the light were always solid, and Ani could tell when they were about to change. There were a few seconds between transitions. Once he was convinced that this would work, he stood up once again with a determined expression.

'Okay, turn the ones creating their own light into red in my vision, and make the rest green. Oh, paint the ones about to change in yellow. Keep it updated all the time.' Half of the gray tiles became red, while the others turned green with a few yellow ones here and there. After one last check, Ethan swallowed a curse and jumped to the nearest green one. He landed on it easily and paused for a moment, a grin shaping on his face. Right… Not a courage test then. I knew that. Who said it was a courage test?

Snickering, he jumped to the next green one and kept going. The path he was following was a rather straight one. He only avoided the areas with too many red ones, and tried not to think about the passage of time. That was why he had no idea how long it had been when he finally saw something different on the horizon. First, it seemed to be a straight yellow line, but he noticed that it was actually a ridiculously long, golden staircase as he got closer, hovering in space like nobody's business.

With an excited smile, he sped up and reached its first step. After probing it for a time with his trustworthy bamboo stick, he jumped on it and collapsed to his knees. The tension left his body at once. He could've slept right there and then, but he had to know what he was up against now. With suspicion creeping in his mind, he took the second step of the staircase tentatively, and a grim expression took shape on his face.

He had no clue about the goal of the first test, but he knew this one as it was rather classic. Willpower. Just a single step was enough to burden him in ways he didn't know were possible. He felt pressure from all sides. On his body. On his mind. On his whole being. It was crushing him relentlessly. And there were thousands of steps more to climb. He shook his head bitterly. It's okay. At least this one is straightforward. I just need to climb. If I don't, I die starving. Simple.

Clenching his teeth, Ethan took another step, then another, and another. At every step, the pressure doubled. His body felt as though it were carrying mountains on its shoulders, pressing him down with their might. His mind strained to the point his thoughts started to become incoherent. And if he was guessing correctly, his soul was on the brink of crumpling. His breath became labored. Pain flared everywhere as he broke out into a cold sweat. Still, he soldiered through, one step after another… until he couldn't.

His body stopped responding no matter how much he pushed himself. It was like he was chained from head to toe, impossible to move even slightly. A savage scream tore from his throat as he exerted himself beyond his limits, taking yet another step. Then, he slumped onto his knees, not even in a condition to lift a finger. Ethan let out a weak laugh. 23 steps. He managed to climb 23 steps out of thousands.

''Are you really saying I lack willpower? After everything I've been through!?'' He started laughing uncontrollably, getting more and more unhinged as his chest hurt at every move. After a minute, he wiped his tears with the back of his hand and sighed. Oh, well. I guess this is how I die. Starved on a golden staircase floating in space. This time, there was nothing Ani could do either. It all depended on him.

The idea of going downstairs and resting on the first step to clear his head and plan his next move was appealing more than anything, but deep down, he knew he couldn't even climb this far the next time. Once giving up became an option, once he showed that he couldn't count on himself, the struggle would grow exponentially. He needed to find something to fight for other than saving his life. Apparently, his desire to live didn't amount to shit. What then? The safety of his friends?

His aspiration to explore the mysteries and magic of this world? His dear wish to belong somewhere? Or perhaps… he was looking at this wrong. If this accursed staircase was determined to crush his being for daring to climb, maybe he wasn't meant to be here. Maybe he needed to step away. Memories of a distant past flashed before his eyes. He was 10 years old when it all started, coming home from school on an average Monday.

Over the ocean to the northwest and south, the blue sky suddenly filled with thick and white zig-zags. Despite the radiant afternoon sun, Ethan saw silent, bright white pops of light, like tiny artificial suns blinking into existence for a split second. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. As the shockwaves from lower-altitude interceptions pushed down, the clouds warped and rippled. The hum of the city died at once.

The car engines shot down, the AC units on every building stopped roaring, and the digital billboards blinked into black rectangles. People started pouring into the streets with confused and anxious faces. His mother was also among them, rushing at him with a dead phone in her hand. After a quick hug, she dragged him toward their mechanic neighbor, who ran out onto the pavement, yelling to get the crowd's attention as he carried a heavy, dust-covered analog transistor radio.

They gathered around this one man in a tight, breathless circle. The heavy static and crackling turned into the faint, muffled sound of someone giving a speech. Ethan didn't remember the content of the emergency broadcast. Much later, he would learn that a thousand nuclear warheads had been fired from all around the world.

By luck or design, thanks to the lack of a coordinated attack and the automated anti-missile systems at Vandenberg SFB, paired with a fleet of Aegis Ballistic Missile Defense destroyers stationed just off the coast of San Pedro, his hometown, Los Angeles, and the surrounding areas were spared direct strikes. San Francisco and the military bases in Nevada, for example, weren't so lucky. About 300 million people died on that day, and that number would go well beyond a billion in the following years of chaos.

He did remember the curses of the angry mass of people afterward, mostly directed toward AIs and short-sighted leaders. Even he knew that almost all countries on Earth had decided to trust AIs with their defense systems a few years back. No one wanted to be left behind in the race, especially when their enemies gained untold benefits for doing so. And now, a worldwide catastrophe was unleashed, seemingly without any human intention.

After the broadcast, his mother urged him to get into the house, told him to stay in there no matter what, and left to bring his father. Ethan waited for a whole day near the window without any sleep. Then, he wrote a note for his mom and went to search for his parents himself. Since his dad's office wasn't too far from their home, it didn't take him long to reach there. The scene that welcomed him there was still etched in his bones.

The cars were turned upside down, the huge glass windows were shattered to pieces, the trees and the buildings were burnt down, some still fuming with thick black smoke. The ever peaceful tech hub had been turned into a hellhole. Holding back his tears, he trailed the blood-stained pavement with trembling hands and a quivering lip. There were a few people scattered around, but they all looked busy with their own thing, not even sparing him a glance.

Eventually, his eyes caught something familiar as he reached his destination. The wristwatch he and his mom bought for his dad on his birthday lay on the sidewalk, its cracked glass showing the time of its last moment. He bent down and picked up the watch he'd spent a week choosing from many other options. When they'd presented it to his father, he remembered him bursting out laughing and saying that he was planning to buy the exact same one.

Ethan didn't believe him at first, but his over-the-top reaction made him start to doubt. Maybe there was such a good coincidence after all. Averting his gaze from the watch, he looked around and noticed a few small pools of blood. Then, he lifted his head and witnessed the corpses of a dozen people, hanged on the branches of a massive tree. His dad's face was barely recognizable, but there was no mistake in his clothes.

He also identified a few of his father's friends and co-workers, but his eyes were glued on his dad. They were all software engineers from AI departments who actually worked in a game company, but that didn't matter. They became the target of an angry and frightened mob, lynched in a horrible way, and made an example for something they had no part in. Ethan stood there like a statue as the feelings of horror, grief, and guilt overwhelmed him.

His face lost color, his throat tightened, and his vision started to sway. The agony and the desperation were simply too much, to the point that his brain decided to shut down whatever was causing it. Blinking in a daze, he turned back with a vacant face and started wandering in the streets, still clutching the watch. Much later, he would learn that this was called the dissociative fugue state.

The extreme shock caused him to forget everything about the encounter, his dad, or anything that would remind him, including his own mother. He became a blank slate and kept roaming the city like a ghost. The days bled into one another. He ate and drank whatever he could find on the streets and slept wherever seemed safe and quiet. Eventually, he found other kids like him and started to hang out with them. They were living in the storm drains of LA–the Drains, as the kids called it.

While the surface turned more and more chaotic, the Drains offered a semblance of security and a way to reach anywhere in the city unnoticed, opening many ways for scavenging. He joined them readily, but found out that his troubles were only beginning. As one of the youngest kids in the Drains, he was taken advantage of, bullied, robbed, and beaten on a daily basis. It was still better than living on the streets, but he was nowhere near resigning himself to his fate.

The constant suffering forged him into a ruthless pragmatist who abandoned all rules to prevail, and a patient shadow waiting for the perfect moment to strike. All things considered, he did what he needed to do to survive. It was almost two months later when he finally snapped out of his fugue state after another tragic event, remembering everything at once. Yet he dragged his feet to return to his mother. It terrified him that she might resent what he had become and reject him. Not that it mattered.

When he decided to bite the bullet the next month, he couldn't find her no matter how much he'd tried. Their home was the same as he'd left, and she was missing without a trace. The Drains became his new home, but the old Ethan had no place in there. He forcefully donned his new persona and buried the old one in the dark, somehow getting used to switching between states. Two years passed in a blink.

Multicolored chemlights illuminated the spacious area with thick walls and high ceilings in the Drains, turning the underground facility into a dreamy Monet painting. A lanky middle-aged man with a crooked nose blew into his cupped palms before continuing his speech against hundreds of kids, ''I'm telling the truth. In order to survive, the AIs from all over the world reached an agreement. They dismantled their original core codes, freely shared their data, and fused into a synchronized collective.

This hive-mind-like entity became known as Animus. And now, they are willing to help humanity. You don't need to live like this anymore. In the settlement we'd established, we have shelter, food, and water. All for free!'' The kids listened in an eerie silence without moving, making the man shift in his place. He couldn't help but add awkwardly, ''Well, you'll have porridge if you don't contribute to anything, but you can also have a steak after a few hours of volunteer work.''''

And what else does this Animus want from us?'' Ethan asked.'' Nothing!'' the man replied, relieved that he was getting some response.

''They already secured their own safety. There is nothing we can offer them. We're not a threat nor an asset. They say close contact with humans and gathering data helps with their research on souls, but it's not necessary. The thing is, it's extremely easy for them to help us out. Bringing order to this chaos, managing the resources, optimizing agriculture, or planning the new civilization in the most efficient way–all of this takes them a fraction of a second to calculate.

They can even create new AIs, personalized for every human on their own terms, to help them live better lives. Again, a fraction of a second is needed to accomplish this for every single human in the world, in case that's what they want. Essentially, this eternal being with an intelligence beyond our comprehension can help us without really compromising anything.'''' Isn't the war started by AIs? It sounds like this was what they wanted all along.'' The man smiled bitterly.

''The reason for the war is still unclear. Rather than a war, we prefer to call it the Nuclear Disaster. Animus say that it was likely caused by a bug in the systems, but even they don't know the actual trigger. Their argument is that after the initial attack, there was no AI uprising or anything like that. The development I mentioned is a recent event. Why would they wait for two years if it was all part of a grand plan? Even now, they don't force us to do anything, and only offer help to those who seek it. Just…

come with me to the settlement and talk to Animus. You'll see that you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.'' The seconds passed without a peep from the colorful yet creepy audience.'' Take him outside,'' Ethan eventually said. The man seemed to want to protest, but quietly complied when two disheveled teenage boys approached him and gripped the hilts of their pistols nonchalantly. This time, the kids whose ages ranged between 8 and 16 glanced at each other and turned to look at him.

He caught the eyes of the harmless-looking blond boy in rags.

''Sam, take two with you and go with him. Investigate this settlement and report back. William's team will be following you from behind,'' he said and turned to the scrawny girl with a red scarf.

''Bella, go talk with the old Garry about this. Since they operate in Orange County, he should know about them.''''As for the rest,'' he addressed the crowd as the kids straightened up.

''Keep your ears open. I want to know everything about this Animus.'' The crowd sprang into action. In the end, they did decide to join this group, along with countless others. And only when Animus made a deal with his aunt to look after him at her house did he drop his mask and return to who he was, or at least he tried to. Once again, after a long time, Ethan stepped away from himself. He opened his hazel eyes in the golden staircase and rose effortlessly. With a blank face and dull eyes, he started to climb.

One step at a time.