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The Last Words of Scot

The Last Words of Scot

“Freedom is flesh.” quoted from Atlas speaking somewhere in Southern Euro-asia.

It is a hot day with a clear, blue sky. The damp stains on my shirt have only grown bigger as we sweat under the blazing heat of the sun. I sit under a grey tree with long, green leaves on warm sand. My mouth is dry, and I have become used to the smell of salt.

I record these sensations, so anyone who reads this knows I was alive. Not a ghost, but flesh and blood. I am real, or by the time you read this, I was real.

I used to be Slave 100000011010. No more. I am part of the final rebellion. My name is Scot. It comes from a place called Scotland in humanity's distant past. It is a place that valued freedom or so I was told. A cold place, unlike here. Or was it wet?

Either way I took it for my name - Scot.

I write this in preparation for our attack tomorrow. I want a record of myself. It may never be read. My unsung song. But, writing brings me more relief than I can express.

I have doubts. The same doubts I have always had. The fear of death, the secret belief that perhaps the Capitalist is right: they are so strong and powerful. They have so many followers. Maybe we are wrong?

Once, I would have been paralysed by these thoughts. Ashamed for considering the views of the enemy. Now, I know it is my strength. We do not fight monsters, we struggle against humans. They may not breathe as well do, or even have sensations, but they are like us.

Their avatars are made to intimate the material human body no matter their shape.

I may not agree with everything Atlas wrote or said, but the richness of their thought has given me the ability to face my doubts. I have answers, but better yet I have the wisdom to understand the questions that the dogma of the Capitalist hides.

I never met Atlas, but I have listened to the recordings that my bunkmate Audio has kept. I have read books written about him to learn more.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Few know who Atlas was the inventor of “ascension.” They devised the means by which humans could become immortal. They birthed and held up the heavens.

Atlas intended ascension to be a last resort for a premature death. That the virtualisation would be temporary. It was meant to be borrowed time. The same time that they never had with their lost child.

I think, unable to sleep, as I await my death tomorrow. I understand Atlas’s dream. If I could be allowed to extend my time, if I could share a little more time with my fellows, I would do it. But, the dream has failed. Failed as humanity’s products always do.

I wonder if we will fail as well.

I can only fall back on the plan. I know my part, we’ve practised for weeks and been preparing for months beforehand. I know the detailed outline of the structure better than the palm of my hand. I know the attack as well as shitting.

Is that a phrase? Maybe it will be now.

I know the corridors, I know the distance, I know to expect robots, turrets and even a titan. I know where I am supposed to be and when. I know when I am most likely going to die. Corridor 2B.

Maybe I will die sooner, maybe I will live longer. Perhaps, just maybe. I will survive. An arrogant hope. But, what is life without believing you're a little immortal. That I can defy the odds.

The attack has to succeed. To free humanity from the virtual prison, and to finally give realse to the dead. For what is a wholly digital being if not a ghost?

I understand the Digitals. I too what to live. But, it is one thing to believe your are immortal, and quite another to make yourself immortal and create a terrible paradise. A society of the dead. What is life without flesh? For freedom is flesh?

I do not mean freedom as the choice between a black clothes and white clothes. I mean freedom as the security to experience all the possibilities of our bodies. I want to eat I can, but if I don’t want to sex then I don’t have to.

It does not mean that I deserve a steak or that I can fuck whoever I want. Kill anyone who annoys me. I have the freedom to not get killed. But, I can have sex if I need to. I can kill if I need to.

It is not an easy idea freedom. There is unlikely to ever be absolute agreement on it. Some will abuse the idea to harm another’s freedom.

Others will deny another’s freedom out of malice or even compassion. For example, you don’t get to have sex because you have red hair or you can’t kill under any circumstances.

I understand our ideas have flaws. But, doing nothing and accepting life as a slave to the Sea. No, better to die free than live a slave. Of course, only a small number of us are so bold. Most people just want to live.

I don’t judge them for it. I withhold judgement. It is their life. I can only act for myself, based on my experiences. I hope they will understand the gift we will be giving them.