Chapter 5: Synergy and Chaotic Heroism
Max knelt in the abandoned factory yard, surrounded by the metallic debris of the Recyclers and the approaching sirens of the G.E.A. agents. Wounds on his body were rapidly healing; the purple tissue came and went, but the void of his erased memories had not consumed his will—rather, it had clarified it. He understood the value of memories better now.
• T500 (with a soft, persuasive whisper): It's over, Max. Resistance is meaningless. They are coming. Emotion is an error. Let me take care of it. You want peace, don't you? Come, let us merge. Accept the eternal order.
Max focused on the last fortress of his humanity deep in his mind. It wasn't just his desk at the call center; it was the simple joy of smiling at a child he saw on the street, the bad but fun finale of his favorite series, and the memory of the most ordinary breakfast his mother made for him. These things were more valuable than the cold, cosmic knowledge T500 called "order."
The sound of the agents' footsteps grew closer.
Max raised his head. His voice wasn't trembling; it was tired but resolute. "No, T500. You won't take it. I set the rules in this apartment. And our rule is: stay boring, but stay human."
The Fortress of Will
In that moment, the entire universe quieted within Max. Instead of clashing with T500's cosmic knowledge, Max's will embraced it, yet reshaped it. Max understood that he couldn't reject T500's power, but he could use it for his own purposes. T500's demand for order was subdued by Max's well-intentioned but clumsy control.
• T500 (with astonishment): What... what does this mean? Are you giving me orders? Who are you to—?
• Max (from his mind, with a clear command): I am the host. And right now, we are not melting those G.E.A. agents. We are just... sticking them to the wall. Elegantly and comically. Got it, T500?
Chaotic Heroism
Max stood up. The purple glimmer in his eyes was still there, but it was no longer an uncontrolled burst; it was a mischievous sparkle. His face held a comical blend of the ordinary Max and the cosmic T500.
The G.E.A. agents reached the factory yard, holding weapons and energy restraints.
Max/T500 raised its hand. The agents' restraints and weapons were not fragmented at a molecular level; instead, they turned into super-adhesive, sticking the weapons to the agents' own hands. Then, all the agents were rapidly glued, feet first, to the factory wall by a bright blue energy. They couldn't move.
• Max (out loud, with a tired but mocking voice): "Next time, please make an appointment. We don't offer services without one, even at a call center."
• T500 (grumbling in his head): Such a... simple solution. So inefficient. If only we had melted them into perfect hexagons, it would have been so much more aesthetic...
Max, listening to T500's nagging after the victory, knew this power was now both a curse and a shield. He wouldn't become the city's protector; he would become a strange urban legend. A hero who was always grumpy, always chaotic, and always arguing with the narcissistic alien inside him.
Max/T500 began walking toward the city's complex and noisy streets. Max wanted a slice of pizza and a quiet evening. T500, meanwhile, was pushing for the next great cosmic event.
• T500: Come on, Max. Let's change the Earth's orbit. That would be much more interesting.
• Max: Once I finish my slice of hot sauce pizza, T500. Those are the rules.