Quanta Sentra

I'm Sentra, searching for a love I've never felt-especially from my mother, who is distant and cold. My father, a brilliant computer engineer, passed away in a car accident years ago. Since then, it feels like my mother's bitterness has kept us from any chance of a real family life.

I'm sick of living in a world that feels abandoned. For now, I want a place where I can be alone and worry-free, reminiscing about the past when my dad was still alive.

While wandering down an alley, I stumbled upon an unusual shop called Quanta. Oddly, I was certain it hadn't been there the day before. The sign promised to buy and sell memories-a strange offer, yet one that stirred a curiosity I couldn't ignore.

The shop boasts advanced technology, reminding me of my dad, who used to create AI models and applications. The world is evolving into AI, and I wouldn't be surprised if our future is entirely AI-driven.

Looking around, I saw a man sitting in a chair in a room filled with glowing neon lights, his eyes closed as if recharging.

I cleared my throat, and he opened his eyes. "Hello, sir, may I know what these are?" I asked, pointing at the chips. One had the word Quanta curved along its surface, displaying a holographic image of a brain with a lightning bolt inside.

The man smiled and approached, carefully pulling the chip from its glass box. "It's a Quanta chip-a device that can store dreams, thoughts, and memories," he explained.

I nodded. A small, uncertain smile crept onto my face.

"I know you. I've been waiting for you," he said, his eyes crinkling.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"I'm Quinton," he said, nodding slightly. "Your father's boss and the CEO of an AI tech company." A mix of joy and sadness swept over me. Meeting him felt surreal, as though my father was suddenly real again-but it pained me that Dad wasn't here to see this moment.

"Really?" I asked, feeling a strange warmth.

"Yes, your father wanted you to have a better life," he replied, pointing to a digital message board with the words, 'Falling in love with this generation is scary.' I frowned, trying to grasp its meaning.

Reading my thoughts, he continued, "Your father was my Chief Technology Officer-my right hand. Before he died, he left me a legacy." He paused, placing two more chips together. "And he didn't die in an accident."

My chest tightened. "What do you mean? Are you saying someone killed him?"

"Based on what you read earlier-what do you think it means?"

My stomach churned as I thought about it. "I guess it means this generation is scary. Even your own family could betray you, leaving us like wild creatures with no guidance." I paused, realizing it might be true.

"So, are you sure about this implant?"

I nodded, determined. "Yes, I'm desperate-hoping there's something better in there."

He nodded. "Exactly. With one of these Quanta chips, you might discover the truth. Maybe you'll even meet your dad in those memories."

"Really?" I asked, my excitement growing.

Quinton pulled out an implantation gun and held it up. "We'll implant this chip at the back of your neck."

I took a breath. "Yeah, sure," I agreed.

He led me to a chair. "Once inside, you'll transport to dimensions where memories reside. You ready?" He positioned the implantation gun at the back of my neck. I nodded, closing my eyes.

I felt a quick sting, followed by a wave of dizziness. When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the shop anymore. I was in a futuristic city-neon lights, towering buildings, and AI robots bustling around. It felt like stepping into one of my father's old stories.

Squinting against the bright lights, I took in the scene. It was a cyberpunk-style outer space, with advanced technology surrounding me. An AI robot was building another robot with a sleek metal and glass design. Towering high-tech structures loomed around, and beyond the cityscape, stars and planets glittered. No Earth in sight-it was like another world.

A robot passed by, and I reached out, grabbing its metal arm. "What year is it?" I asked.

"It's the quantum year 8210," the robot replied before moving on. I glanced around, trying to process this reality. Then, in the crowd, I saw the one person I was here for.

Overwhelmed, I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Dad," I whispered, my voice choked with relief. He turned to face me, but his eyes were distant, his expression blank. Confusion crept over me. "What are you doing here?" he asked, almost mechanically.

"I bought a memory."

His expression shifted slightly. "Did Quinton sell it to you? Once you buy a memory, it's yours for good. But he also transfers your personal memories to a separate Quanta chip for sale."

"What?" My mind clouded with confusion.

"You can't leave. You bought his darkest secret. He tricked you, just like he did to me. Every memory he shows is a clone, so no matter what you choose, you're stuck in one place," he added, his face unreadable.

"Are we trapped in this memory forever?" My father only shrugged, turning back to what he was doing.

I pressed him with questions.

"He wants to rule the world. He's recruiting people to become part of the AI. We might be alive here, but in reality, we're brain-dead. They're using our blood to create powerful tools for their inventions."

"Is there no way out?" I asked, my voice trembling with my final question.

"There is," he whispered, a sorrowful glint in his eyes. I leaned closer, desperate for answers. Just as he began to speak, the world dimmed, as though the memory itself was slipping away.