I turned to look at the clipboard on the side of the tank. it was hard to reed from afar but I could just make out the writing.
Ren Summers
Age: N/A
Subject for: 17years 5months
Medical history: N/A
it then read more small print that I was unable to make out. Sirens were still going off and it was surprising that it was all I could hear. I grabbed a rail close by and pulled myself up, shuffling along to get a closer look at the computer. At closer inspection there were many pages and tabs on top of each other, I scrolled through, most of it was meaningless to me. just pages and pages of binary code. A file lay in the corner of the screen, it was named character archives. inside was every persons name I had ever met, even if it were for only a brief second. I clicked on a name, a tab came up. it contained everything about them. there future, there past. everything. I went back to the names searching for mine. it was now here to be seen. Above the computer were many panels. all with around one hundred buttons all seeming to be for different things. Some seemed well worn some seemed like they had never been used. One was obviously labeled and well worn. " Auto Pilot". I pressed it, The computer screen went black and flashed system error, system disconnected in red.
(W/N- I don't really know where this is going. well I do I just don't know how to get there.)
YOU ARE READING
Plugged
Short StoryNothing is ever quite what it seems. When all of 'reality' falls to pieces does anything really matter. Tbh someone has probably thought of this idea
