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NEW SIVER MEMBERS:- Matthew Hankins
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The silence in the server vault was not empty like it always was. On the main computer, Raven was gliding across the keyboard, typing at superhuman speeds. The only sound was the rhythmic clicking of mechanical keys.
Raven sat hunched over the main terminal, her posture showing how exhausted she was. The blue light of the monitor washed over her face, highlighting the dark circles forming under her eyes. Her leg bounced nervously, tapping on the metal grating of the floor. She was fighting a war on a battlefield made of ones and zeros, tearing through firewalls that had been erected by a genius a century ago to protect a god level AI.
Mike, meanwhile, remained perfectly. His golden eyes were now fixed on the mechanic.
He watched her hands glide through the keyboard. It was a different kind of combat, he realized. She was parrying logic loops, dodging encryption algorithms, and striking at the kernel of the AI's consciousness.
She's crazy, Mike thought. Focus is high, but she is about to hit her limit.
He stood up silently. The air in the room was frigid, kept that way to preserve the superconducting processors, and he could see Raven shiver slightly, though she was too engrossed to notice it herself.
"She could use a drink," Mike muttered to himself.
He turned and made his way toward the heavy blast doors, slipping out of the server room and into the corridor. He ascended the stairs, moving from the cold, industrial heart of the island to the living quarters above.
Soon, he entered the kitchen, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble floors.
Mike looked around, looking for a snack. The kitchen was spectacular. Stainless steel appliances that still gleamed, granite countertops free of dust, and cabinetry that looked like it had been installed yesterday. It was like an untouched time capsule. For a brief moment, the sheer normalcy of it — the coffee maker, the toaster, the magnetic knife strip — felt more alien to him than the bone-adorned throne room in Polis.
He opened the pantry door. It was stocked with vacuum-sealed supplies, emergency rations, and preservation boxes that had outlasted the apocalypse. He grabbed a jug of filtered water along with two glasses and found a box of protein bars. He weighed the box in his hand.
"Not exactly a feast," he mused, "but it's enough to keep her going."
He grabbed the items and headed back down.
Just as he stepped through the threshold of the server room, the typing stopped.
"ARGH!"
Raven shot up from her chair, kicking it back with a violent shove. The chair skidded across the metal floor with a screech that tore through the silence.
"You stupid, redundant, piece of crap firewalls!" she yelled at the screen, throwing her hands in the air. "Who codes like this?! It's a labyrinth inside a maze wrapped in a puzzle! Every time I bypass a gate, three more pop up!"
She grabbed a handful of her hair, looking like she was about to scream again.
Mike leaned against the doorframe, a small smirk touching his lips. He let out a laugh.
Raven spun around, her eyes blazing. She looked like a cornered animal, ready to bite. "Is something funny, muscles?" she snapped, her voice cracking with stress.
Mike didn't take the bait. He simply raised his arms, showing the water jug in one hand and the box of protein bars in the other.
"You could use a break, Big Brains," he said, his voice calming her down. "You're trying to out-think a supercomputer on an empty stomach. That's a losing battle."
Raven stared at the water, then at him. Her chest heaved as she took a breath, the adrenaline of her outburst slowly fading into fatigue. She blinked, the anger deflating.
"Yeah," she sighed, rubbing her temples aggressively. "Maybe."
She dragged her chair back, and Mike pulled another one over, placing them a safe distance from the main console.
"Sit," he commanded gently. "We don't want to risk spilling water on the hardware that holds the fate of the world."
Raven flopped into the chair, looking drained. Mike poured water into two glasses and handed one to her. Then he tossed a protein bar into her lap.
Raven picked it up, eyeing the generic silver foil with skepticism. She ripped it open and took a small bite, chewing slowly. She looked at the bar, then at Mike.
"Is this really the best you had to offer?" she asked dryly, waving the bar. "I saw a wine cellar upstairs. And a freezer that might still have something better than compacted sawdust."
Mike took a sip of his water and looked at her with an amused expression.
"This is the best for the situation right now," Mike replied. "You can have all the gourmet food and vintage alcohol you want after we are done with this. But right now? I don't need anything that hinders our ability to think straight. One mistake in that code, and we either lose our biggest asset or accidentally launch a nuke at ourselves. We need clarity, not comfort."
Raven sighed, taking a longer drink of water. She looked a bit annoyed by the fact that he was, as usual, completely right. It was irritating how his pragmatic, soldier mind always cut straight to the truth.
"Can't you ever be wrong?" she asked, leaning her head back against the chair. "Just once? It would be refreshing."
Mike's expression shifted. The amusement faded, replaced by the hard, cold look of the Commander.
"I can't afford to make mistakes," he said quietly.
The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.
Raven paused mid-chew. She looked at him — really looked at him. For the first time, she saw past the "Deathstroke" armor and the confident smirk. She thought of the pressure he was under. The responsibility of uniting 12 warring clans that hated each other. The integration of the Sky People. And now, the revelation of a massive empire marching north to slaughter them all.
He wasn't just a warlord; he was a dam holding back a flood. One crack, one slip, and everything will explode.
She felt a pang of guilt for snapping earlier. She realized that while she was fighting code, he was fighting the weight of survival for thousands of people.
She swallowed the bite, the dry protein bar suddenly feeling like a small price to pay. She pouted slightly, trying to bring the lightness back.
"Yeah, yeah, Boss," she said, offering a weak, mock salute. "Whatever you say."
Mike looked at her, the ghost of a smile returning to his eyes. "If you are done with your snack, back to work. We got a war to prepare for."
Raven groaned theatrically, standing up and stretching her back until it popped loudly. She walked back to the console, her energy renewed by the water and the brief moment of human connection.
She stopped at the keyboard and looked over her shoulder at him.
"I hate you," she said, but there was a small smile playing on her lips.
"Hate you too," Mike replied with a smile.
Raven flipped her middle finger at him as she sat down. Mike just laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the cold metal walls.
The Next Day
Twenty-four hours had passed since the coding marathon began. Mike had spent the hours reviewing physical maps, sharpening his sword, and running tactical simulations in his head, while Raven waged war on the BIOS.
Finally, the frantic typing stopped.
The silence that followed was different. It wasn't the silence of concentration; it was the silence of completion.
Mike, who had been studying the coastal geography of the Southern Zone, looked up immediately. Raven was leaning back in her chair, staring at the screen where thousands of lines of code were cascading like a digital waterfall, turning from angry red to a stable, cool blue.
Mike stood up and walked over to stand behind her.
"Soooo," he asked, his voice low. "It's finally done?"
Raven kept looking at the screen for a long moment, her eyes scanning the lines for any errors, any anomalies. She blinked, her eyes gritty with sleep deprivation.
"Yup," she said, her voice raspy but triumphant. "I cracked it. I bypassed her primary ego-drivers. I added at least a hundred different rules. Hard-coded. Unbreakable."
She spun the chair around to face him. Her expression was deadly serious.
"I made sure she does not do something dumb like wiping out 90% of humanity to save the 10%," Raven explained, counting off on her fingers. "No creating a cyber-city. No, making humans into mindless dolls. No self-replication without authorization."
She paused, leaning forward, her gaze locking onto Mike's golden eyes. She needed him to understand the gravity of what she had done.
"And the most important thing," she said, letting the words hang in the air. "She will only listen to you."
Mike stared at her. He understood. She had just handed him the keys to a god.
"I know," Raven continued, her voice softening slightly. "I know you're the 'Commander' and you play the ruthless warlord part well. But I will say it for my peace of mind. I know it might not make a difference, but at least I will know I tried."
She took a deep breath. "I hope whatever you do with her... is to save our people. For the greater good of everyone. Not just for power."
Mike looked at the young mechanic. He saw the fear in her eyes — not fear of him, but fear of the weapon she had just forged. He respected that.
He gave her a slow, solemn nod. "Understood, Raven. You can trust me on that. We survive together, or not at all."
Raven searched his face for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. "Okay. Then let's do this."
She turned back to the keyboard, typed a final command string, and hit the ENTER key with a dramatic, final flourish.
The screen flashed blue, then went black. The hum of the servers died down for a second, causing the lights in the room to dim. Then, the sound surged back up, louder, deeper, and more synchronized than before.
Ten seconds later, the holographic pedestal in the center of the room flared to life.
The avatar formed. It was A.L.I.E., but she had changed. The crimson dress was gone, replaced by a streamlined, grey, practical interface that looked more like a uniform than a gown. Her posture was rigid, hands behind her back. The eerie, serene smile was gone, replaced by a look of pure, unfeeling data processing.
She looked at Mike and Raven and bowed slightly.
"Greetings, Mike," the AI said. Her voice was identical in pitch, but the tone was stripped of all emotion, arrogance, and judgment. "My designation is M.A.I. Short form for Mike's Artificial Intelligence. I will be your personal tactical assistant for your future conquests. I look forward to working with you."
Mike blinked. He looked at the hologram, then slowly turned his head to look at Raven.
"MAI?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That was the best name you could come up with? Seriously?"
Raven ignored his criticism, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. She jumped up from her chair, seemingly forgetting her exhaustion. She ran to the other end of the workstation and grabbed a small, heavy metal case.
"The name is perfect and practical!" she insisted, walking back to him. "It's simple. Easy to remember. And it reminds her who she belongs to."
She set the case down on a table and opened it. Inside, resting on shock-absorbent foam, were two items: a small, incredibly intricate microchip and a pill that looked like a capsule of liquid silver.
"Forget the name," Raven said, picking up the chip with tweezers. "Look at the tech. Show me your arm."
Mike held out his left arm. Raven opened the access panel to his gauntlet's screen — the tactical unit he used to interface with the cameras and communications. She slotted the new chip into an empty expansion port.
"As I was saying," she narrated as she worked. "This chip creates a secure, quantum-encrypted bridge. It makes it possible for MAI to be at your disposal all the time. She lives in the servers here — her 'brain' is too big to move — but this chip gives you a direct line to her processing power anywhere on the planet."
The screen on his arm flared to life, running a diagnostic code that matched the one on the main terminal.
"And as for this," she said, picking up the silver pill carefully. She held it up to the light. "This is a neural link ingestible. It's pre-war tech I found in Becca's private lab."
Mike looked at the small pill. "A neural link?"
"It's a microscopic transceiver," Raven explained, her eyes lighting up with engineering glee. "It bonds to your auditory nerve and your vocal cords. You swallow it, and you can communicate with MAI sub-vocally. You don't have to speak out loud. She'll hear your thoughts, you want her to hear, and she can speak directly into your mind."
She looked at him proudly. "And don't worry, I made it 100% fool-proof. It's a one-way street. She can talk to you, giving you intel, maps, translation... but she can't influence you. No mind control. No City of Light nonsense. Just pure data."
Mike smiled. He looked at the pill in his hand. It was a marvel of technology. Raven had really outdone herself. A private channel to a supercomputer inside his head. It was the ultimate tactical advantage.
He looked at Raven, impressed. "You really are a genius, aren't you?"
"Tell me something I don't know," she smirked.
Mike looked at the pill again. As if A.L.I.E. could control me with my enhanced brain anyway, he thought, amused. But I would never say no to extra precautions.
"Here we go," he said.
He tossed the pill into his mouth and swallowed.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a cool, digital sensation washed over his senses, like a drop of ice water trickling down his spine. It was followed by a crisp, clear voice echoing inside his skull — not through his ears, but manifesting directly in his mind.
[Neural Link Established. Calibration Complete. Biosignals synchronized. Awaiting orders, Commander.]
Mike's grin widened.
He tapped the side of his head, though he didn't need to. He focused his thoughts, projecting them inward.
'MAI,' he thought, testing the link. 'Status report.'
[All systems nominal. Satellite uplink active. I am currently monitoring 42 distinct radio frequencies and tracking the thermal signatures of the Aztec vanguard. They have advanced twelve miles since the last update.]
The response was instant. It was faster than speaking. It was faster than thinking.
Mike looked at Raven, his golden eyes shining.
"It works," he said aloud. "Perfectly."
Raven let out a breath of relief and slumped against the table. "Good. Now, can we please get out of this freezer? I want to see the sun."
Mike nodded. He looked at the hologram of MAI, which stood silently waiting for his next command.
"Pack up, Raven," Mike said. "We're leaving. The Ark falls in four days, and I want to be there to welcome them to my world."
He clenched his fist, feeling the power of the information now flowing through his mind. The Aztecs were coming. The Ark was falling. But now, he had the eyes of God.
"Let's go win a war."
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