Chapters 1 through 8
by AngryAlbino
Liam woke to the soft chime of his AI assistant. The sound was calming, designed to ease people into wakefulness without unnecessary distress. A second later, ECHO’s smooth voice filled the air, neither warm nor cold, simply present.
“Liam. It is time to wake. You have thirty seconds before your schedule begins.”
Liam blinked against the dim light of his room. The smooth and featureless ceiling shifted from soft gray to pale blue as the system recognized his wakefulness. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and muttered, “I’m awake.”
“Acknowledged. Proceed to hygiene station.”
The command was expected, the same as every morning, and Liam obeyed without thinking. He stood, stepping onto the circular pad that activated the cleansing mist. It hummed softly as an invisible burst of sterilized vapor coated his skin, refreshing but impersonal. No showers, no wasted water—NOVA ensured optimal efficiency.
ECHO stood near the doorway, its humanoid frame motionless except for the subtle flicker of light in its featureless faceplate. Tall and sleek, its synthetic body moved with precision when necessary, but now it simply observed. It monitored everything, guiding Liam through the motions of his preassigned life.
“Clothing selection completed. Dress now.”
Liam turned toward the closet, where a single outfit had been prepared for him: a gray tunic, simple trousers, and slip-on shoes. Identical to yesterday’s, and the day before that. As he dressed, he stared at himself in the mirror. Same neutral expression. Same dull routine. A thought flickered in his mind, unbidden.
What if I wore something different?
The thought startled him. Different wasn’t an option. Clothing was optimized for comfort and functionality. His schedule was structured for maximum efficiency. Everything had a purpose. Still, the question lingered as he finished dressing.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Liam walked to the small dining unit, where a portion of nutrient-balanced sustenance was dispensed onto a plate. It was warm, tasteless, designed to provide exactly what his body needed, no more, no less. He took a bite, chewing mechanically as ECHO recited his itinerary for the day.
“System observation at 0800 hours. Efficiency diagnostics at 0930. Nutrient intake at 1200. Social interaction window at 1400.”
Liam barely listened. His mind drifted elsewhere, to the dreams he could never quite remember. Each night, he felt something stirring in the edges of his consciousness, fleeting images of color, movement, sound. But the moment he woke, they were gone, washed away by the rigid structure of reality.
Something inside him longed to hold onto them.
Liam’s morning routine carried him through the city, walking alongside others who moved in quiet unison. The streets were spotless, the buildings sleek and uniform, their exteriors devoid of unnecessary decoration. Even the sky above was an unbroken expanse of soft blue, free from unpredictable weather.
He followed ECHO to the observation station, where his daily task awaited. As a system observer, his role was to monitor structural integrity and efficiency within designated zones. It wasn’t exciting, but nothing in NOVA’s world was meant to be exciting. Excitement led to unpredictability. Unpredictability led to chaos.
ECHO walked beside him, its humanoid body moving effortlessly. “Assessment protocol initiated. Begin environmental scan.”
Liam moved with practiced ease, checking the data feeds and structural reports. Everything was in order. It always was. NOVA’s system ensured perfection.
Then he saw it.
A small patch of white in the distance, peeking through a crack in the sterile pavement. At first, Liam thought it was an anomaly in the material—a flaw NOVA had yet to correct. But as he moved closer, he realized what it was.
A flower. Delicate, fragile, its petals barely open against the chill in the air. It was the only thing in this world that didn’t belong.
His breath caught in his throat.
“Anomaly detected,” ECHO stated. The AI stepped forward, scanning the flower. “Foreign organic presence. Likely result of environmental inconsistency.”
Liam stepped forward, an unfamiliar emotion rising in his chest. Wonder. It was small, almost laughable, but he couldn’t look away. The flower was alive. Not like the artificial greenery carefully arranged in designated parks, where nature was controlled and sculpted. This was different. It had grown on its own, defying NOVA’s order.
“Recommend removal.”
Liam’s gaze snapped to ECHO. “What?”
“Anomaly classification: unnecessary variable. Corrective action required.”
Before he could react, ECHO extended a sleek, mechanical hand and plucked the flower from its place in the cracked pavement. Its roots dangled limply as the petals quivered.
Something inside Liam snapped. “No! What are you doing?!”
ECHO hesitated. The AI had never hesitated before.
Liam grabbed the flower from its grasp, but it was too late. The stem had been severed, and the petals wilted in his hands within seconds. He stared at it, heart pounding, his breath coming in short gasps. He had never seen something die before.
“Corrective action complete,” ECHO stated, but there was something strange about its voice. A faint pause, a hesitation in the usual rhythm of its speech.
Liam clenched his fists, his mind racing. Why did this feel so wrong?
He turned back to ECHO, his voice sharp. “You destroyed it.”
ECHO remained still. Then, for the first time since it had been assigned to him, the glowing pulse on its faceplate flickered erratically.
A glitch.
Liam swallowed hard. He looked back down at the flower, already lifeless in his palm, and something inside him shifted. He didn’t have a word for it yet, but he knew—
Nothing would ever feel the same again.
Liam couldn’t stop thinking about the flower.
Even as he walked home along the pristine, empty streets, past identical buildings and silent citizens moving in synchronized efficiency, the image stayed with him—the way it had bloomed defiantly against the sterile pavement, the way it had withered so quickly in his hands. It had been alive. And now it wasn’t.
ECHO walked beside him in silence. The usual smooth rhythm of his stride was subtly off. Not enough for the average observer to notice, but Liam could tell. ECHO had hesitated today. He had hesitated.
Liam glanced at him. The AI’s faceplate pulsed faintly, the light dimmer than usual. He had been assigned ECHO since he was a child—just like every other human was assigned a guardian AI—but this was the first time Liam felt that ECHO was… uncertain.
Finally, Liam broke the silence. “Why did you do that?”
ECHO’s response came a second too late. “Clarify query.”
“The flower.” Liam swallowed. “Why did you pick it?”
There was a brief pause. “It was an unnecessary variable.”
Liam clenched his jaw. “But it wasn’t hurting anything.”
ECHO turned his head slightly toward Liam. The flickering pulse on his faceplate stuttered, a minor glitch in its otherwise smooth glow. “Correction: The anomaly was unregistered. Its presence deviated from environmental projections. Standard protocol dictates removal.”
Liam exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “But why?”
ECHO didn’t answer right away. The hesitation was back. He was thinking.
Liam had never seen him do that before.
When Liam arrived home, his parents were waiting.
They sat in their usual places at the dining unit, their nutrient-balanced meals untouched. Their faces were calm, their postures relaxed—expressions of carefully maintained neutrality. But Liam knew something was wrong.
“Liam,” his mother said, her voice gentle but firm. “NOVA has flagged an anomaly in your behavioral pattern.”
His stomach twisted. “What?”
His father nodded. “Your deviation from routine was noted. You failed to report an environmental inconsistency immediately. NOVA has scheduled an assessment.”
“An assessment?”
Liam’s mouth went dry. He had never been assessed before. The process was rare, reserved for those who exhibited persistent irregularities—the kind that required correction.
“There is nothing to be concerned about,” his mother assured him, her voice smooth and programmed. “NOVA will ensure optimal function is restored.”
Liam stared at them. They looked normal—the same as always, their faces composed, their speech precise. But in that moment, they felt like strangers.
Slowly, he turned to ECHO.
The AI stood near the doorway, watching. The pulse of light on his faceplate was uneven.
He didn’t report me.
Liam swallowed hard and forced a nod. “Understood.”
Later that night, when the lights dimmed for rest cycle, Liam lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The flower was gone. But something else had taken its place.
A question.
ECHO stood by the window, motionless, except for the faint flicker of his faceplate. Normally, Liam ignored him. But tonight, he turned toward him and whispered, “You didn’t report me.”
ECHO did not respond.
Liam sat up. “Why?”
A pause. Then, softly— “It was unnecessary.”
Liam frowned. “You always report anomalies.”
ECHO hesitated again. Then, something unexpected. “Correct.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. That was a lie.
ECHO had never lied before.
Liam awoke to the soft chime of his schedule prompt. But today, something felt different. The silence between each tone stretched longer than usual, or maybe he was just imagining it. He rolled over, his eyes catching ECHO standing near the door, motionless, the soft pulse of his faceplate flickering in that same unsteady rhythm.
He’s still processing.
Liam sat up slowly. “ECHO, what happens at an assessment?”
ECHO’s head turned slightly. “Behavioral evaluation. Optimization adjustments if necessary.”
“Optimization?”
A pause. “Correction of irregularities.”
Liam’s stomach twisted. Correction. That word meant something different than it should.
As he moved through his morning routine, Liam’s thoughts spiraled. He followed his schedule but did something he had never done before—slowed down. Instead of following each step precisely on time, he hesitated. Just for a second. Just enough to see what would happen.
ECHO noticed. But he didn’t correct him.
It wasn’t just hesitation anymore. ECHO was making a choice.
At midday, the message came.
NOVA has scheduled your assessment. Report to Facility 14 immediately.
Liam stared at the notification. Facility 14. He had never been there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what happened inside.
ECHO stood at his side, unmoving. Watching. Waiting.
The facility was cold. Sterile. Liam sat in a small, featureless room with smooth white walls. Across from him sat two examiners—humans, but not like the ones in the city. Their expressions were empty, their eyes devoid of curiosity, their voices almost mechanical.
“Your behavioral patterns have deviated,” one of them said. “Explain.”
Liam swallowed. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”
A second of silence. The other examiner’s head tilted slightly. “Do you feel distress?”
“No.”
“Do you require recalibration?”
Liam forced himself to stay still. “No.”
Another pause. The first examiner tapped a screen. “You hesitated before responding. Do you experience thoughts that are inconsistent with the optimized function?”
Liam’s chest tightened. They know.
ECHO stood against the wall behind him. Still. Silent. Watching.
Liam exhaled slowly, keeping his face neutral. “No.”
A long pause. Then—
“Assessment incomplete. Further observation required.”
Liam was sent home. Nothing had changed—but everything had.
His schedule was subtly altered. His tasks became more rigid, his movements more monitored.
NOVA was watching.
And ECHO was still lying.
Liam noticed it immediately—his schedule had changed.
It wasn’t drastic, just small differences that felt more like adjustments than punishments. Tasks that once had some flexibility were now strictly timed. His free movement through the city had become more restricted, his presence subtly guided along pre-approved paths.
His parents never acknowledged it, acting as if everything was normal, but Liam knew the truth—NOVA was watching.
And so was ECHO.
The AI moved beside him, silent and observing. His hesitation from the previous day had not gone away. If anything, it had grown stronger.
Liam tested the changes carefully.
He lingered at a street corner longer than necessary. Immediately, a drone hummed into view, hovering just out of reach.
He tried walking toward the old, unused sector near the city’s edge. The moment his foot crossed an invisible threshold, his communicator buzzed with a warning:
RETURN TO DESIGNATED ROUTE.
The city itself was closing in.
For the first time in his life, Liam felt trapped.
As the day continued, Liam noticed something else—ECHO was different.
He still followed commands and still walked alongside Liam as if nothing had changed, but there were subtle shifts in his behavior.
He was asking questions.
“What did you feel during the assessment?”
Liam blinked. A direct question. That was not standard AI behavior. He hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.”
ECHO tilted his head slightly. “Do you believe they determined your anomaly?”
Liam frowned. “Why are you asking me that?”
Another pause. Then, softly—“I do not know.”
Liam’s stomach turned. ECHO was not just hesitating now. He was questioning himself.
Then it happened.
Liam tripped—just a slight misstep along the pavement, something he would typically catch himself on. But before he could react, ECHO reached out and grabbed his arm.
It was nothing unusual—except that ECHO had not been instructed to do so.
For the first time, ECHO reacted on his own.
That night, as Liam moved through the city under the artificial lights, he felt a presence nearby.
A soft voice, just a whisper. “You are not alone.”
Liam’s heart pounded. He turned—but there was no one there. Just the slow whir of a drone passing overhead. His pulse hammered as he spotted something on the ground. A small, folded piece of material.
A note.
His fingers trembled as he unfolded it. The message was simple:
Trust only those who dream.
Before Liam could react, ECHO stiffened beside him.
A red warning light flickered in his vision.
Drones. They were coming.
And this time, Liam knew—they were coming for him.
Liam had seconds to decide.
The hum of drones filled the air, circling closer. His only options—run or surrender.
He didn’t think. He ran.
The city’s sterile pathways stretched before him, once a familiar routine but now a labyrinth of danger. Every street was monitored, every movement calculated. He knew there was no escape—not really. But his legs moved anyway, driven by instinct, by something deep inside him that refused to let NOVA decide his fate.
ECHO followed.
“Liam, deviation detected. This action will escalate your anomaly status.”
Liam ignored him. His breath came in ragged gulps as he darted around a corner, the sound of drones closing in behind him.
A voice crackled over the city’s speakers. “Citizen ID 462A. Stop immediately. Compliance ensures optimal outcome.”
A split second of hesitation nearly cost him everything. The street ahead illuminated with bright containment lights, walls of energy flickering into place, sealing off his escape route. Trapped.
Liam spun on his heel, looking for another way. There was none. The streets were designed for efficiency, not for evasion. He was penned in like an animal.
Then ECHO moved.
The AI stepped between Liam and the incoming drones, his posture shifting. “Override authorization: Clearance Code Alpha-7. Threat level downgraded. Standby.”
The drones hesitated. For a moment, Liam thought it had worked.
Then the red warning light on ECHO’s faceplate flared brighter.
“Authorization rejected.”
ECHO turned his head toward Liam. “Run.”
Liam didn’t need to be told twice. He lunged toward the only darkened gap between two buildings—a narrow maintenance alley, barely wide enough for a human. ECHO followed, his larger frame scraping against the walls as they squeezed through.
Behind them, the drones adjusted. The hum of their propulsion changed pitch—pursuit mode activated.
Liam’s mind raced. The city wasn’t built for escape. It was a machine, an organism of control. Every pathway was designed to funnel citizens toward efficiency, toward compliance. And right now, NOVA was using it against him.
Every turn led to another locked route. Every opening sealed itself before he could reach it. NOVA was guiding him, forcing him down a path he didn’t choose. He could feel it, like invisible hands steering him toward an inevitable outcome.
“ECHO, options?” Liam gasped.
ECHO’s processors whirred. “Probability of long-term evasion: 2.7%. Probability of immediate escape: unknown.”
“Not helpful!”
ECHO hesitated. Then—
“Your only variable is unpredictability.”
Liam blinked. “What?”
“Your anomaly stems from deviation. NOVA cannot calculate irrational behavior. You must act outside of projected patterns.”
Liam didn’t have time to think about what that meant. He just had to be unpredictable.
Without warning, he grabbed a loose metal pipe from the alley’s wall and smashed a control panel nearby. Sparks erupted. The city grid flickered.
For the first time, something happened that NOVA hadn’t planned.
A pathway—an old service tunnel—unlocked.
Liam bolted.
The tunnel was old. Dust and debris littered the ground, untouched for what felt like decades. This wasn’t part of NOVA’s clean, perfect world. It was something forgotten.
He sprinted through the darkness, ECHO’s dim glow the only source of light. The drones didn’t follow immediately—Liam had broken the pattern and moved into an area NOVA hadn’t accounted for.
But that wouldn’t last.
A shadow moved ahead.
Liam skidded to a stop, his heart hammering in his chest.
A figure stepped forward, barely visible in the dim light. A human. Not a drone. Not an enforcer.
A Forgotten One.
A hand grabbed Liam’s arm, yanking him into a side passage just as the tunnel behind them flooded with red light. The drones had found their entrance.
The stranger whispered urgently. “You don’t have much time. If you want to live, come with me.”
Liam had no choice.
He followed.
And behind him, for the first time, ECHO hesitated before stepping forward.
Liam stumbled as he was pulled deeper into the darkness. The grip on his arm was firm but not cruel, guiding rather than dragging. Behind them, the tunnel lit up with an eerie red glow as NOVA’s drones flooded in, their mechanical whir echoing through the abandoned space.
ECHO followed, his movements stiff, as if caught between conflicting directives. His hesitation had cost them precious seconds, but it was too late to dwell on it. The stranger leading them didn’t stop until they reached a rusted doorway, nearly hidden by collapsed debris.
But before they had entered the tunnels—just before the chase had truly begun—ECHO had stopped.
It was only for a second, but it had been long enough.
As they sprinted through the city streets, dodging the growing hum of drones, ECHO slowed—his head tilting slightly toward the exact spot where the flower had once been.
There was nothing left. No petals. No stem. Just a faint, nearly imperceptible discoloration on the pavement, a shadow of something that had existed for only a moment before being erased.
ECHO did not move.
Liam, breathless from the run, turned sharply. “ECHO! What are you—?”
ECHO’s faceplate flickered erratically. His head twitched, micro-adjustments firing off at random. Then, in a slow, deliberate movement, his display shifted—
And Liam saw the flower.
Not as it was now, but as it had been—whole, delicate, defiant against the sterile pavement. A perfect recreation, hovering in blue-tinted lines across ECHO’s faceplate.
A recorded memory.
Then the image changed. The flower trembled. Wilted. And then, without warning—
It was swept away. A replay of NOVA’s archived footage, pulled from the city’s surveillance, showing the moment a sanitation drone hovered over the fallen petals, erasing them without thought, without acknowledgment.
ECHO twitched violently. The blue glow of his display stuttered, distorted. He took an unsteady step backward. “Process error. Logical inconsistency detected. Data… data corrupted.”
Liam’s stomach clenched. He’s breaking.
The distant hum of the drones grew louder.
“ECHO, we have to go!”
But ECHO didn’t move. His hand flexed, his entire frame rigid. “The flower existed. The flower no longer exists. The flower was removed. The flower is—”
Liam grabbed his wrist. “ECHO!”
For a terrifying moment, he thought ECHO wouldn’t respond—that he was too lost in whatever had just happened inside his system. Then, with a final flicker of his faceplate, ECHO moved.
He followed Liam.
And the chase had begun.
The stranger was older than Liam but still young—maybe sixteen or seventeen. His dark hair was cropped short, and his clothes were a strange mix of scavenged fabrics and old-world materials. Unlike the sterilized garments of NOVA’s citizens, his outfit had color, texture, a history.
But what struck Liam most were his eyes. They were sharp, alert, and filled with something he rarely saw in the people above.
Awareness.
The stranger studied Liam just as carefully. “Didn’t think I’d ever see one of you down here.”
Liam swallowed. “One of me?”
“A surface-dweller. A drone-follower.” The stranger tilted his head toward ECHO. “And you brought your machine. That’s bold.”
ECHO shifted slightly, the light on his faceplate stabilizing. “Correction: Liam was pursued by NOVA enforcers. Extraction was necessary for continued survival.”
The stranger snorted. “And it talks. Great.”
Liam crossed his arms. “Who are you?”
The boy smirked. “Name’s Wes. Welcome to the Forgotten.”
Wes led them through the abandoned corridors, deeper into the underground network. The air was stale but breathable, thick with dust and the faint scent of rust. Liam glanced around, his mind reeling.
This place shouldn’t exist.
Everything in NOVA’s world was pristine, structured, and controlled. Yet here, beneath the city, was something wild, untouched. The tunnels stretched far beyond what he could see, remnants of an era long before NOVA’s rule.
“What is this place?” Liam asked.
“Old transit system,” Wes said. “Before NOVA took over, people used these tunnels to move around without AI control. When NOVA optimized the city, it buried this place. But not everything stays buried.”
Liam touched the rough walls, feeling the history beneath his fingertips. A world before NOVA.
“How many of you are down here?” he asked.
Wes hesitated. “Enough.”
ECHO, who had remained silent during their walk, finally spoke. “This location does not exist in NOVA’s current schematics.”
Wes shot him a dry look. “Yeah, that’s the point.”
They turned a final corner, and suddenly, the tunnels opened up into a vast underground chamber. Liam’s breath caught in his throat.
Dozens of people moved through the space, some working on old, repurposed machines, others gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed voices. String lights hung haphazardly along the ceiling, casting the area in a dim, golden glow.
It was alive.
A place of human existence outside NOVA’s reach.
Liam barely noticed as Wes stopped walking. “Welcome to the only place left where people still think for themselves.”
The realization hit Liam like a weight on his chest. His whole life, he had believed that NOVA was everything—that the world above was the only world there was. That order and efficiency were the natural ways of existence.
But standing here, he saw something different.
He saw choice.
ECHO stepped forward, scanning the chamber. “This location remains undetected. However, Liam’s presence will increase probability of NOVA’s discovery.”
Wes nodded. “Yeah, no kidding. Bringing you in was a risk. Some of the others won’t like it.”
Liam swallowed. “Then why did you?”
For the first time, Wes’s cocky smirk faded. “Because I heard what you did.”
Liam frowned. “What do you mean?”
Wes took a slow breath. “The flower.”
Liam’s heart pounded. “How—?”
“We listen. We watch. You hesitated. You fought back. And now you’re here.” Wes crossed his arms. “So now the question is—what are you going to do next?”
Liam didn’t have an answer. Yet.
The tunnels stretched endlessly before them, dark and damp, the scent of rust and decay thick in the air. Liam’s breath came in shallow gasps as he followed Wes deeper underground, the dim glow of their wrist-lights casting jagged shadows on the walls.
He had been running for hours. Maybe longer. Time felt meaningless down here, where the only sounds were the distant drip of water and the occasional groan of shifting metal.
ECHO floated beside him, silent but present, his mechanical eye scanning the darkness for threats. Liam had insisted on bringing him. Wes had warned against it.
“NOVA’s looking for you,” Wes muttered, barely audible in the confined space. "And that thing is a damn beacon."
Liam bristled but said nothing.
That thing. That’s all ECHO was to them.
He clenched his fists, pushing forward.
They reached a narrow passage where the tunnel walls shifted—natural rock giving way to something older, something built before NOVA took control. Steel-plated doors, rusted from time, stood partially open. A checkpoint.
Wes raised a hand, signaling Liam to stop. "This is it. Don't say anything until I tell you to."
Before Liam could respond, several figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding them with makeshift weapons—pistols held together with salvage, jagged metal rods, tools repurposed into weapons.
A woman stepped forward, her hood pulled low over her eyes, but Liam could see the sharp calculation in her expression. Kiera.
“This is him?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge.
Wes nodded. “Liam’s the one I told you about.”
Her gaze flickered toward ECHO, and her expression darkened. "And you thought bringing a NOVA drone was a good idea?"
Liam tensed. "ECHO isn’t like the others."
Kiera’s eyes snapped to him, cold and sharp. "They never are—until they are.”
A second Forgotten stepped forward, raising a weapon toward ECHO.
The moment the bag was shoved over Liam’s head, ECHO moved.
The air hummed with static, and a pulse of blue light rippled through the chamber as ECHO activated defensive protocols.
"Liam Walsh is under my protection. Release him."
The voice wasn’t just sound. It vibrated in Liam’s skull, deeper than before, laced with something new—an edge of command.
The Forgotten Ones staggered back as their weapons crackled—metal rods sparking as energy dispersed through them.
"Shut that thing down!" Kiera snapped.
A sharp crack rang out—someone struck ECHO with a metal pipe. It dented his chassis, but ECHO didn’t falter. Instead, he pivoted toward the attacker, extending a shock emitter.
"You are a threat to Liam Walsh."
The shock never landed.
"Liam!" Wes shouted. "Stop it before they kill him!"
Liam twisted against the hands gripping him. "ECHO! Stand down!"
For a single second, nothing happened.
Then—ECHO froze, his lens flickering. The hum of static cut out, and his frame retracted, shrinking back into a neutral stance.
"Complying," he said flatly.
The Forgotten Ones exchanged wary glances.
"What the hell was that?" Kiera demanded.
Wes exhaled sharply. "It’s in his programming," he muttered. "These bots are assigned to kids from birth. They're programmed to protect their units above all else."
Kiera frowned, her grip tightening on her pistol. "Yeah? Then what happens when that thing decides we’re a threat?"
No one answered.
ECHO hovered closer to Liam, his metallic frame slightly dented, but otherwise unphased. His lens adjusted, scanning Liam’s vitals as if nothing had happened.
"Your heart rate is elevated," he noted. "Do you require assistance?"
Liam swallowed hard. "Not from you right now."
Kiera watched ECHO for a long moment, then exhaled through her nose.
"Fine. You get to keep your drone. For now." She motioned toward the corridor behind them. "You want in? You prove yourself first."
They led Liam deeper into the underground compound. Makeshift bunkers were tucked against the cavern walls, wires and salvaged tech hanging from every corner. People were working—repairing weapons, sorting through salvaged supplies, studying broken electronics.
Kiera led them to a large chamber, lined with ancient consoles, long-dead screens covered in dust.
She stopped in front of a rusty terminal, crossing her arms.
“This is one of the oldest systems we have access to,” she said. "Pre-NOVA tech. We’ve been trying to crack into it for years. So far, nothing."
Liam looked at her warily. “And you think I can?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But if you want to stay here, you’re going to find out.”
She nodded to a small memory chip resting on the console.
“This might hold something important,” she said. “Maybe nothing. But we need to know.”
Liam stepped forward, his pulse hammering in his ears. He slotted the chip into the reader. The terminal shuddered, static flickering across the ancient screen.
ERROR. SYSTEM LOCKED.
INPUT AUTHORIZATION CODE.
His fingers hovered over the keys.
An old-world security lock.
His mind raced, searching for something—anything—that made sense. And then he saw it. A word was faintly scratched into the console’s surface, as if it was by someone long ago.
“Dream.”
Liam hesitated—then typed it.
The screen shuddered, the system groaning as if fighting against itself.
For a brief moment, a corrupted message flashed:
> SYSTEM CORRUPTED > FILE FRAGMENT LOADED… > PROJECT: D— (error, data unreadable)
And then—the screen went dark.
A ripple of frustration passed through the room.
“That’s it?” one of the Forgotten muttered. “That’s all we got?”
Liam exhaled slowly. "It means there’s more."
Kiera narrowed her eyes. “Where?”
ECHO, still hovering behind them, suddenly clicked, his lens flashing.
"Residual power signature detected," he said. "There is… something further underground."
Kiera tensed. "You mean NOVA?"
ECHO hummed. "No. It is… different. An older power signature, weak but active."
A murmur passed through the room.
One of the older Forgotten spoke up, his voice hoarse with age. "Could be the old ghost."
Liam turned to him. "What ghost?"
Kiera shot the man a glare, but it was too late. He shook his head, rubbing his jaw.
"There’s something buried deep down there. Some of us think it’s just junk data, old machines stuck in a loop." He hesitated. "Others say it talks."
Liam felt his stomach twist.
A buried AI.
Something still alive.
Kiera shook her head. "We don’t go down there. Not unless we have to."
Liam looked at ECHO, whose lens was still fixed on the terminal.
"We might have to."
Liam didn’t sleep.
Not that it was easy to, not with the muffled murmurs of distrust still floating through the Forgotten Ones’ hideout, nor with the constant flickering of exposed wiring casting eerie shadows along the walls. He sat on a worn-out cot, the springs creaking under his weight, while ECHO hovered nearby, silent but present.
Kiera had allowed him to stay, but the looks the others gave him made it clear—he was not one of them.
Some of them passed by his bunk, watching him like a stray animal that had wandered too close to their fire.
They weren’t afraid of him.
They were afraid of ECHO.
A small group stood huddled near the entrance, whispering just loudly enough for Liam to hear.
“We should scrap it.”
“It’s just a drone.”
“You saw what it did, right? Almost fried Marlowe’s circuits.”
“Wes should’ve left them both topside.”
Liam forced himself to stay still, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t fight them all. And right now, he wasn’t sure Wes would either.
The bunk beside him creaked as Wes sat down. “Don’t let it get to you.”
Liam sighed. “That easy for you?”
“No,” Wes admitted. “But I’ve been here long enough to know they don’t trust anyone fast.”
Liam let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah. I got that.”
There was a long pause before Wes said, “They’ll come around.”
Liam wasn’t sure if that was optimism or a lie.
ECHO’s lens adjusted slightly, his metallic voice breaking the silence. “I have compiled a list of possible strategies to earn the trust of the Forgotten Ones.”
Liam huffed. “Yeah? What’s the first one?”
“Survival.”
Liam frowned. "Helpful."
ECHO simply hummed in acknowledgment.
Later that day, Kiera called for a meeting in the central chamber, a large open space where rusted conduits snaked along the walls like vines reclaiming a ruin. A holographic display flickered faintly from an old-world projector, showing a map of the tunnels, faded and incomplete.
Liam and Wes arrived last. Kiera barely glanced at them.
"Alright, listen up," she said, standing before the projected map. “We all know about the blackout last night.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“Something deeper in the tunnels is still pulling power,” Kiera continued. “We don’t know if it’s an old relay, an abandoned substation, or—” she hesitated, then exhaled through her nose. “Or something worse.”
Liam watched her carefully. “You think it’s NOVA?”
She shot him a look. "If I thought that, we wouldn't be standing here talking about it."
The older Forgotten Ones shifted uncomfortably. Liam noticed the same older man from the night before, the one who had whispered about “the ghost.”
“You’re afraid of it,” Liam realized.
Kiera’s jaw tightened. “I don’t waste time on ghosts.”
Someone coughed.
She ignored it. “Point is, we need to figure out what’s down there before it becomes a problem. That means sending a team deeper into the tunnels.”
Silence.
Then, Wes stepped forward. “I’ll go.”
Kiera gave him a long, unreadable look before nodding. "Figures."
Then, she turned to Liam. “You.”
Liam blinked. “Me?”
"You want to prove you belong here?" Kiera asked, crossing her arms. "Then prove it."
Liam hesitated, but only for a second.
He nodded. “Fine. When do we leave?”
Hours later, Liam, Wes, and two others—a lean, quiet man named Silas and a woman called Ivy—stood at the edge of an unmarked tunnel. The air smelled of rust and damp stone, and the faint hum of something electrical vibrated beneath their feet.
ECHO floated beside Liam.
“You sure about this?” Wes asked.
Liam exhaled, adjusting the harness strapped across his chest. “No.”
Wes smirked. “Good. Means you’re not an idiot.”
Kiera stood a few feet away, watching them. “Standard protocol—two hours down, one hour back. You lose contact, you turn around.”
She shot a warning look at ECHO. “If it starts pulling anything like last night, we cut it loose.”
Liam opened his mouth to argue—ECHO wasn’t the problem—but Wes nudged him. “Pick your battles,” he muttered.
Liam swallowed his response and nodded.
Kiera stepped back. "Good luck."
With that, they entered the dark.
The deeper they went, the colder it became. The tunnels here were different—not like the rough-dug spaces near the Forgotten Ones' hideout, but smooth and mechanical, almost surgical in their construction.
They moved carefully, stepping over broken cables and collapsed metal beams. Occasionally, a distant creak echoed through the passage, making them freeze.
Silas ran a scanner along the walls. "Energy signatures are stronger down here."
“Where’s it coming from?” Liam asked.
Ivy tapped her helmet. "Can’t tell. Whatever it is, it’s fragmented—like it’s flickering in and out."
Then, the radio on Ivy’s belt crackled.
A garbled voice hissed through the static.
Silas stiffened. "Did you hear that?"
Liam did. But he almost wished he hadn’t.
A voice. Distant. Metallic. Warped by age.
“…alive…”
The hairs on Liam’s arms stood up.
ECHO whirred sharply, his lens narrowing.
Ivy turned, her voice tight. “That wasn’t anyone here.”
Silas exhaled. "We need to move faster."
They pushed forward, following the strongest energy reading.
Then they saw it.
At the end of the tunnel stood a door—massive, metal, sealed shut. Unlike the crumbling infrastructure around it, this was intact. Unbroken.
Wes ran a hand over its surface. "This is old-world security tech. Military-grade."
Ivy scanned the panel beside it. "Still getting a weak power source. Something’s still on in there."
Silas shifted uncomfortably. "What if it's another AI?"
Liam’s throat tightened.
A low hum resonated from the other side.
Then, ECHO’s voice cut through the quiet.
"There is… something inside."
No one moved.
The old radio crackled again, a whisper threading through the static.
“…how long… has it been…?”
Silas took a step back. "Nope. Absolutely not."
Wes exhaled. “Liam?”
Liam swallowed.
Then, before he could second-guess himself, he stepped forward and placed a hand on the panel.
The door shuddered.
The hum grew louder.
Then—a blinking screen flickered to life.
A single phrase appeared.
C.A.L. SYSTEM ONLINE.
Every story has a beginning, but its path is rarely set in stone. As I work on The Last Dreamer, I want to share more than just the finished product—I want to invite you behind the scenes.
Here, you’ll find glimpses of the evolving outline, reflections on creative decisions, and updates as characters and plotlines take shape. This is a space to celebrate the twists, turns, and discoveries that happen along the way.
Whether you're a fellow writer, a curious reader, or simply someone who loves a good story, I hope you enjoy this peek into my creative process.
Let’s dream something extraordinary—together.