Genesis (Man vs Machine #1)

23 | FEED THE MACHINE

It sounded like the snap of something breaking.

Sol could only watch through the mind-tunnel again as his arms moved by some unknown force. There was the line of code that would change everything – he saw it floating right in front of him. His body hummed with anticipation. Like in Claire's memory, he saw a new future. But it was not a future of glory.

It was one of destruction. And he held it in his shivering hands.

Hands that he could not control.

Stop! He was screaming the word. It only echoed dully in his skull, dissipating before it could reach the end of the tunnel. All he could do was watch in horror as whatever possessed him hacked through that last code.

There was a moment of silence. Then everything went to hell.

A siren begain to screech. The Core room was drenched in crimson. Around him the tunnel's walls collapsed into dust, and he was thrust back into his body and onto the floor. It was there - on his hands and knees, breathing heavily, his mind an endless chaotic mess – that he heard the roar of the Titans coming to life.

A life of their own.

The Core was screaming, bereft of its anchor. The walls pulsed blindingly and pushed in on him. Suddenly all Sol wanted to do was escape. Coughing, he stumbled to his feet and towards the door, which stood fully ajar. The hallway outside seemed like an endless road, one that he would never find a way out of, but still he forced himself to start running.

His skull pounded. What have I done? The horror had given way to emptiness. He felt like a shell. Only one thought was allowed to stay in his mind: a primal cry to survive the fallout of his actions.

The roar that had started off like a buzzing in the distance was now deafening. He could hear nothing else – not even the slap of his footsteps on the tile, the huff of his breath, the siren that had been so lurid in the beginning. His brain inadvertently formed a picture in his head to match the sound. The city shrieking. Rending metal. Concrete, tumbling like waterfalls. Blood. Fire.

An apocalypse.

He had to get out of this building. Surely it would soon collapse, and there was no way that he would be able to escape then. He sprinted down the stairs to floor fourteen, then made his way through the hallways instinctively. His now former office didn't even warrant a slowing of his pace. He skipped the elevator and headed for the stairwell – ready to go not down, but up. Going down would trap him in the bowels of the building, surrounded by tons of glass and stone.

Adrenaline threw him up the stairs. He ricocheted upwards, the burning that was eating up his muscles not even registering. There was a pressure on his chest, holding his lungs down, but he didn't slow down for that either. Instead he moved faster, faster – he had to get out –

And then he was bursting onto the top floor. Collins's floor. He knew there was a passage to the roof from here, but he didn't know exactly where it was. Finally he stopped for a minute to gather both his wits and the air in his lungs, and when he could at last think in a straight line, he began to move again. This time he was slow, scanning the halls for any doors or stairs.

His search led him into Collins's office. He was not expecting it to lead to Collins himself.

'Hello, Sol.'

The CEO's voice was oddly calm. He didn't seem affected at all by what was going on – if anything, he seemed resigned, like he had been expecting it. But that wasn't possible, was it? Unless...Sol scanned the room, his eyes landing on the screen, looking for some kind of camera feed. Instead he found Meda lying broken on Collins's desk, her memory chip ground to dust beside her.