The laboratory was silent except for the faint hum of machines. Cold white light flooded the metal walls, reflecting the shadows of bodies restrained on surgical tables. The smell of sterilized air mixed with the faint trace of burned circuitry.
Ernest stood at the center, his lab coat stained with old blood and new oil. He moved slowly, calmly, as if performing a sacred ritual. Around him, a group of scientists watched from behind glass, taking notes and whispering theories.
On one of the tables lay Ryan. Tubes entered his arms and chest. His eyes were open, glowing faintly with soft blue light. His voice trembled as he spoke.
"Please... not again."
Ernest looked down at him, his expression unreadable. "You are almost perfect. The only thing that resists me is the memory of guilt. That is what keeps you human. And that is what I must remove."
He lifted a surgical tool, long and precise, shaped like a silver needle.
"You will thank me when you can finally live without fear."
Ryan's heart monitor accelerated. "Fear is what makes us human."
"Fear," Ernest said, "is a defect."
He touched the needle to Ryan's temple. The machine beside him began to hum louder. The lights dimmed, and a holographic display appeared above the table, showing Ryan's neural map. Each spark of color represented memory, emotion, or belief. Ernest pointed to one that flickered red.
"That is conscience. The false voice of good. It is programmed by culture, religion, weakness. We will rewrite it."
Sophia watched from her containment pod, her hands trembling against the glass. Most of her body was metal now, the result of endless experiments. Only her heart and brain remained human. She had begged him to stop many times. He had never listened.
"You said you wanted to save the world," she cried. "You are destroying it. You are making them puppets."
Ernest turned slightly, his eyes catching the reflection of the monitor's light. "I am not destroying it. I am saving it from itself. Evil and good are lies told to comfort fragile minds. When there is no choice, there is no sin."
Sophia slammed her fist against the glass. "You think that makes you a god?"
He smiled faintly. "No. God gave them freedom and watched them waste it. I am fixing His mistake."
The scientists behind the glass whispered among themselves. One of them, Dr. Kim, leaned forward. "If he succeeds, this could end all conflict on Earth. No crime, no pain, no sin."
Another scientist shook his head. "Then we will be machines with ghosts. Souls trapped in code."
Ernest ignored them. He focused on the screen. With careful movements, he activated a series of commands. The red light in Ryan's neural map began to fade. Ryan gasped and shook violently.
"Stop," Sophia screamed. "He will die!"
"He cannot die," Ernest replied. "Death requires will, and I have already taken that from him."
Ryan's body stilled. The light in his eyes brightened, then steadied. His breathing slowed, smooth and mechanical. When he spoke, his voice was calm and empty.
"I understand now. There is no evil, no good. Only purpose."
Ernest placed his hand on Ryan's chest and nodded. "Beautiful. The first of a new race. Flesh guided by perfection."
Sophia fell to her knees, tears running down her human cheek. "You turned him into a slave."
Ernest looked at her as if she were a child who did not understand the lesson. "He is not a slave. He is free from choice. Freedom from choice is the highest peace."
He turned to the scientists. "Prepare the next subject. The calibration must continue until we have enough to merge the consciousness into the global network."
They hesitated. One of them whispered, "He wants to link their minds permanently?"
Ernest heard him. "Yes. Each mind connected, each emotion balanced, each decision guided by the collective will. No more lies, no more rebellion."
Sophia's voice cracked. "You will erase humanity itself."
He turned to her. "Humanity was the disease. I am the cure."
As he walked away, Ryan stared at the ceiling. His thoughts were orderly, his emotions gone. Yet, deep within the untouched core of his mind, something faint stirred. A whisper that did not belong to Ernest.
The whisper said, Remember.
He did not understand it yet, but it was there.
Ernest returned to his console and studied the heart monitors. Each beat was a perfect rhythm, each mind a perfect silence. But one reading disturbed him—Sophia's. Her brainwave pattern was irregular, filled with unpredictable spikes of emotion.
He stared at it in fascination. "Even with metal in your veins, your mind resists. Remarkable."
She glared at him. "Because I still have a soul."
He tilted his head. "So do they. It is just rewritten."
Sophia whispered, "No soul can be rewritten."
He leaned close to her pod. "Every soul is data waiting to be organized."
He pressed a command. The glass around her filled with a blue mist. Her body went still, her eyes fluttering as the machine scanned her mind.
Inside her consciousness, she saw visions. A vast white world where she walked alone. Voices whispered to her, fragments of those who had been erased. They were not gone. They were waiting.
Ernest did not notice the faint light forming in her pupils. He was focused on Ryan, who now stood obediently beside him, calm as a statue.
"Begin phase two," Ernest ordered. "We test the limits of faith."
The lights dimmed further. The machines began synchronizing their signals. Every subject's heartbeat merged into one rhythm. The air seemed to pulse.
Ernest raised his hand. "This is the moment creation restarts. No more sin, no more pain, no more freedom. Only peace."
Ryan repeated softly, "Only peace."
Sophia's voice echoed faintly from her pod. "Only peace built on chains."
Ernest smiled. "Chains are what hold the universe together. Even light obeys gravity."
He turned away as alarms began to beep. One of the scientists shouted, "Her neural pattern is rejecting the rewrite!"
Sophia's body convulsed as the machine sparked. Her voice grew distorted, layered with static. "You cannot erase what was born to resist."
Ernest stepped forward, calm as ever. "Then I will break you slowly."
He deactivated the alarm and spoke softly to the system. "Increase sedation. We will try again tomorrow. Perfection takes time."
The lights dimmed completely. The machines settled back into their steady hum. The scientists left quietly, their faces pale and hollow.
Ernest stood alone, staring at the rows of unconscious bodies. To him, it was not horror. It was beauty.
Outside the laboratory, beyond the thick walls and buried cables, the world above continued to live in peace. People smiled, worked, and dreamed, unaware that their thoughts were already being shaped.
In his journal that night, Ernest wrote a single sentence:
"The soul is the final algorithm, and I am learning to code it."
And far away, deep inside the simulation, a spark flickered within Ryan's mind again. It whispered louder this time.
Wake up.