"Reincarnated" As An Overmind

CH1//Kaylee dies twice.

Life here on Earth is good, and getting better. Technology has never improved so fast, scarcity is effectively eliminated. Humanity has reached mars, with terraforming well underway. Most of our energy needs are produced through either cold fusion or the Dyson cloud. I call it that because calling it a Dyson swarm is wrong, it barely even obscures 10% of the sun's surface.

All of this is thanks to our new allies, an alien race, hyperfocused on the greater good. They didn't even have a name. They came here, told us it was for our own good, and rained nuclear hellfire on every major population center. To give credit where due, it did solve any issue we had with uniting with old enemies.

Then they started sharing technology with us, never giving us the breakthroughs, just hints and the tools we'd need. After reaching their level on the technological scale, they started the integration process.

That is to say, they modified their biology to be compatible with humans. That was 15 years ago, today is the 3rd of March, year 2143. Today is the day either of our original races is entirely extinct. Today the last truly human person has died, and I'm bored.

There was no struggle, no resistance, no anger at our uplifting. I find that boring. There is no reason to have any aspirations, hopes, or ambitions. Today is also the day I get to choose an occupation and all the choices are soul-crushingly boring. 

So I choose to delay the decision. I'm just buying time for something to arrive though. At least I can still look forward to packages. 

A few days later, a cardboard box is left at my door. I bring it inside and open it, its contents begging to be used. Inside are a few relics from something called "religion", essentially pledging allegiance to an entity beyond comprehension that cares little for you, if documentation regarding the topic is correct. A book, bound with leather. Three candles that smelled of iron. Chalk. And a list of names, none I recognize. With this, I can begin.

I go to my room and lock the door. I push aside a part of the usual mess covering the floor. I set down the candles, and light them. They emit a red smoke and a red glow. I open the book and go to the page indicated in the summary. There lies a symbol, with three empty circles.

I notice the warning, not to use red, and not to use the same color thrice, but it's probably just a superstitious addition by the author.

I begin drawing the symbol on the bare concrete floor. I place the candles. I remember something, for this to work it needs to be activated and linked to the user with the sacrifice of a precious object. The only thing I hold truly precious is myself. I go to the kitchen and pick up a knife, then return to my room and lock the door again. I close the blinds.

With the lights out I can finally get to the fun part. I place my forearm above the symbol, strangely reminding me of a constellation. I'll check later. With a slow and deliberate movement, I cut my forearm, just enough to form a small patch of blood in the center of the symbol, but I believe it should be lenient on placement. I savor every moment of this, something else than the drone I've had to endure for the last 10 years. I didn't even get to grow up, even that was thrown away, seen as inefficient, so they age everyone up to adulthood in just a month, then directly transfer everything we need to live in our brains.

I pick up the list of names and choose a random one. I begin chanting, a whisper at first, slowly rising in volume until I fear I can't do the same for the next name. I tell of my woes, of my wishes, of my hatred, and what I love, I tell of the boredom. I'm screaming by the end of it. I take a second and prepare myself to do it again. If there's something good to these gray concrete walls, it's that they're very good at blocking sound.

I choose another name and chant the same thing. I choose another name and chant. Again and again, I repeat the process, going through dozens of names. I'm beginning to have a hard time breathing, due to the overwhelming amount of smoke.