It didn’t take long for Jennifer to fall asleep in his lap, her mind blissfully disconnecting from the real world issues and emotions of her loss. Arnel’s hands were tucked away behind his thighs, in its own way an admission of the guilt he felt. Even if her words absolved him of his direct influence, the fact remained that if he were not around, she’d likely still have her parents.

He remained in that room for a while longer, in the darkness which was sparsely illuminated by the artificial lights of the holoscreen. From time to time, he could see a pair of feet underneath the door frame, and hear the footsteps recede into the corridor beyond the door. It was likely Thomas or Isobell checking up on them.

More and more, Arnel felt it was not just Jennifer on whom his existence had a negative impact on, but on everyone he was close with. It was an undeniable fact that Arnel was now a magnet for tragedy — like a fulcrum upon which eras must exchange places. What did the future hold for him, and those close to him? Would this tragedy repeat itself time and time again?

Carefully, Arnel moved Jennifer from his lap, and slowly extracted himself from Jennifer’s weight. He was not entirely successful, as she woke up briefly to murmur a sound like “stay”, but fell asleep again immediately afterwards.

Staying was the one thing Arnel could not do. It was not that he only wanted to escape the guilt he felt, but there were other pressing concerns. Even putting aside the fact that his friends were probably worried about him, he also had to convince them all to move to a safe place. What happened to Jennifer, in his premonition, could not happen again. Not to Jennifer, or anyone else.

On his way out of the room, Arnel checked his comm to dismiss the warning he received earlier, and while he was at it, he checked his messages to figure out how much time had passed. It surprised him to find only one message from his dad. He expected a barrage of messages from Fang, Nissa, and the others.

The message he got from his dad was largely the same thing his dad always writes — an apology. Arnel only saw his father in the flesh once a month, if he was fortunate. It was not supposed to be that way, but that was how it turned out.

I am sorry I cannot come home this month; the message said. I hope you are recovering from the surgery. I am so proud of you, son. I cannot wait to see you. Again, I am sorry for not being there.

His dad was always worried that Arnel would come to resent him for this — hence the apologies — but Arnel was, in reality, proud of his father. Having a job in the real world was a rare and prestigious thing. And it’s not like it was his father’s fault; if Arnel wanted it, he could come visit his father instead.

At least, before the accident, Arnel would visit his father in virtual mind constructs, and catch up at least once a week, but ever since the accident, this hasn’t happened once. Maybe, once everyone was safe and secure, Arnel would visit his dad, and perhaps even tell him everything that had happened.

When Arnel stepped into the room where his pod was, he noticed that both Isobell and Thomas had left. His artificial eye was perfectly aware of Isobell’s position — in her bedroom — though Arnel did not need the eye’s processing power to determine that himself; the entire building could likely hear her snoring.

Methodically, Arnel cleared his pod from all the additional machines that had kept him alive or brought him back to life. Half of these machines Arnel did not even know what they were for specifically. The tray upon which he lay during virtual dives was covered in the same blue goo that he was submerged in when inside the pod, but the emergency exit function did not give the pod time to drain the liquid from the chamber.

As he wiped down the tray with a towel, Arnel heard footsteps behind him.

“You are going back there?” Thomas asked. “Despite what happened to you?”

Arnel stopped wiping down the tray and shrugged. “What other choice do I have? There is someone important to me there.”

“Then invite them here! Isobell and I can protect them!”

Arnel shook his head. “That is not possible.”

“Why not? Why do you, of all people, have to go? You were dead!” Thomas exclaimed.

Arnel threw the towel on top of the tray. “I don’t know!!” Thomas may have raised his voice, but Arnel shouted. There, in the fading echo of his outburst, he was left trembling. A mixture of fear, anger and despondence gnawed at the fraying edges of his mental state.

“I don’t know why it has to be me! I don’t know why Jennifer’s parents had to die, or why she almost died because of me! I don’t know why this is happening to me!” Arnel’s words burst from his throat before he even had a chance to think about them. “I. Don’t. Know!!”

Arnel could hear Thomas swallow. “I am sorry,” Thomas said, tone hesitant. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Arnel was still for a few seconds, and then he picked up the towel and continued wiping down the tray. With his back turned to Thomas, the soldier wouldn’t be able to see his tears.

“I cannot follow you where you are going, Arn,” Thomas said. “I cannot protect you there. I feel so useless. I feel so incompetent and inadequate. I don’t know what to do.”

Arnel shook his head. “I should be the one apologizing,” he said. “You didn’t deserve that. You were just looking out for me. And none of this was your fault.”

Thomas shrugged. Even though Arnel could not see him, he was keenly aware of the soldier’s movements and proximity; it was as if Arnel had eyes on the back of his head. It was strange that Arnel got used to this so quickly.

“You saved my life,” Arnel said, wiping off the last of the goo and putting away the towel. “On more than one occasion. Without you, I would be dead now. And it’s not just that; without you and Bell, I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

Thomas chewed on his bottom lip and then nodded. “Well, I cannot stop you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Arnel nodded also, but then shrugged. He also did not know if he knew what he was doing.

“Bell is screaming in my earbud right now. I’ll go calm her down,” Thomas said, and then slowly retreated out of the room.

Arnel remained motionless for a while longer after Thomas left, checking the calibration values of his pod. This was unnecessary, but at that moment, Arnel would do anything he could think of in order not to think about the conversation he just had with Thomas. Thomas was right; they both knew that. Arnel could leave all of this behind and just hide for the rest of his life — however long that may be. But what hurt him the most was the question of why it had to be him.

It pressed on his mind like a quern stone, grinding down the fragile peace he made to live a life that was almost entirely out of his control. Now, selfish thoughts began to invade the space in his mind dedicated to accepting circumstances as they were. He almost regretted becoming friends again with Fang and Nissa, because such a thing could mean that they too could die. He almost regretted that he was happy.

However brief this episode of second-guessing was, it was ultimately just that — brief. After checking the values, he climbed into the pod and pressed the button on the inside of the lid, and his tray slid into the belly of the machine, and the lid closed over him. He would not feel the rush of the suspension fluid or the disconnection of his perception as the machine booted up. He would feel nothing. Darkness would take over his vision, and he would find himself in the world of Singularity.

Or so he thought.

The first sign of trouble was the distant crackle of a radio and the distorted words that poured from imaginary speakers.

“The idea that artificial intelligence should belong to all of humanity is absurd. Anyone who desires a meritocratic government executed by AGMI is a traitor.”

And then another transmission, this time clearer.

“A new weapon unveiled by the Euroasian Alliance is supposedly entirely autonomous.”

In a panic, with limited control, Arnel mentally pulled up the session logs.

< Accessing this domain is in violation of the Gestalt Mandate. >

“This technology proves that artificial intelligence is not only vital to our future development but an absolute necessity for the survival of our species. Every modern material that we use in the construction of Artificial Near-Earth Objects has been developed by AI. The cure for cancer, the Quantum Theory solutions, the Collective Consciousness theorem, the cybersphere — all developed by AI. We are entering the era of an enlightened world without borders.”

< Domain controlled by Unknown Entity. >

In a panic, Arnel reached out to the last resort. The emergency exit function.

[ Emergency exit code received. Initiating… ]

[ Exit code rejected. ]

Another transmission blasted into the emptiness of the virtual construct.

“This is a war of machines, not people. It is the most ethical method of waging war since the dawn of mankind. Not a single human life will be lost.”

Another radio transmission followed immediately after it.

“A quarter of humanity — almost five billion lives — have been lost in the war. The Consolidation War is the greatest tragedy of mankind.”

< Access to domain granted. >

Brilliant light burned away the darkness and the sense of weightlessness — helpless free-fall — disappeared with the darkness. As the world of light boiled away the nothingness, geometric patterns appeared on the ‘ground’ and slowly the transparency of the light beneath Arnel’s feet changed. He could, if he squinted hard enough, recognize that he stood on a sheet of translucent light — like the clearest glass he had ever seen.

The tiles of translucent sheets of light continued to expand from his position in a manner that he could not comprehend. They unfolded in such a way, at right angles, from a point within themselves, expanding like a four-dimensional object in three-dimensional space. Although Arnel did not know why he thought that; but it felt correct.

Nearby, he noticed a female figure with blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She wore a white dress that glittered with light captured within its fabric. She sat down just as the table of opaque light appeared before her, and she regarded Arnel with an inviting and familiar gaze.

And she, too, was familiar to Arnel. It was as if he could swear that he had met her, or seen her before, but as if that memory was now too distant and irrecoverable in the sea of confusion and shock in the receding waves of panic.

Somehow, Arnel felt safe and that, in itself, instilled a sense of foreboding and ominousness in Arnel.

Mostly because Arnel immediately recognized that this creature was not human. She was an AGMI. He could feel her the way that he could feel all the profane weapons wandering the world. He could feel her as if she was a part of him — a very cold, very dark part of him.

More so, he felt compelled to fall to his knees and worship her. He even thought that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen — but that in itself was not worship-worthy. She did not only look like a Goddess or higher being — she felt like one.

And then her words snapped him back to reality and her tone reminded him that this was not a Goddess, but a Devil.

“You must not kill Ermin Saltzer, Code.”