In the era of the Ancient Past, humanity sought to create sentient artificial intelligence, minds of code that could think and feel as humans do. Despite centuries of effort, true AI never emerged, and as hopes for sentient machines faded, humanity turned to augmenting its own kind. Today, while robots exist, they remain tools—true intelligence, and the most critical work, still rests in the hands of augmented humans. The dream of fully autonomous, self-aware machines remains unrealized.
— The Dream That Failed: Sentient AI and Human Augmentation, by Archivist Tevan Kyros
***
The void of space surrounds me, an endless expanse of speckled darkness. I float silently in my pressurized combat suit, gripping my Vexis M-1 tight against my chest. The suit's adaptive thermal regulation keeps me warm despite the cold vacuum, while the integrated air jets allow for precise adjustments in zero gravity—crucial for what's about to go down.
Space. It's strange how something so vast can feel both terrifying and peaceful. A part of me wonders if this is what true freedom feels like—unfettered, disconnected from everything. But another part knows it's just isolation, nothing more.
The exospine keeps me stable, each movement calculated, precise. Years of training and too many close calls have led me to this moment. Funny how those close calls used to shake me, made my hands sweat. Now, it's just another mission. I'm a force honed to perfection. Like Evander.
The Combat Labs space station looms ahead, orbiting an unnamed ice moon beyond. The moon's pale, cracked surface glistens faintly, covered in vast glaciers and jagged crevasses that catch the sunlight, giving it an eerie, otherworldly beauty. A light blue glow radiates to the outer atmosphere, making the entire moon seem as though it's softly glowing.
The station ahead is a secret research facility, hidden deep in the outskirts of free world space—but not hidden enough for Evander, apparently. Its core is a massive cylindrical tower of blackened metal. Three concentric rings rotate around it at varying speeds, while docking arms reach out like the spindly legs of an insect. There's something unsettling about the place—quiet, like it's waiting.
Don't worry. I'll be there soon.
I scan the station's exterior with my optics. Thermal signatures highlight guards, heavily armed with suits of their own. Automated turrets dot the surface, their sensors sweeping methodically. The NeuraCore processor feeds me data—trajectory patterns, rotation speeds, optimal entry points. Everything aligns in my vision, a flood of numbers, movement, data—it's all I can see, feel, react to.
I finally reach the edge of a maintenance catwalk extending from the facility's core. Zero gravity offers no resistance, but I've mastered the art of movement in these conditions. Plus, my exospine helps with balance and orientation control.
A turret pivots silently, its sleek barrel locking onto me. I twist mid-flight, narrowly avoiding the burst of energy. Too close. I return fire with the Vexis M-1, a controlled burst from the gun's magnetic rotary chamber that disables the turret before it can recalibrate. If I've learned anything in my years of training, it's that precision isn't about deep focus, but control. The Vexis doesn't miss because I don't let it.
Two guards emerge from an airlock below, their movements synchronized. Combat Labs soldiers—highly trained, heavily augmented. I reach out with my NeuraCore to their personal systems through the station's security network, injecting a virus that disrupts their combat augments. Small hacks like that are so easy to me now—feels like I've come so far since I started learning back in New Eros.
Confusion halts them as their targeting systems glitch. I use the air jets to zip downward, landing silently between them. The first guard swings his combat knife. I parry with the Vexis M-1's barrel, the metallic clang echoing sharply in the confined space. I drive an elbow into his helmet, feeling the impact reverberate through my arm as his head snaps back. Taking advantage of his stagger, I finish him with a precise burst through the visor.
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Children of The Spheres
Science FictionIn the centuries following The Fraying, humanity has clawed its way back from the brink. In a galaxy fractured by conflict and guarded by fragile alliances, civilization thrives under a veneer of technological prowess, its people riddled with cyberw...
