Chapter 4_AI Core

[SYSTEM BOOT SEQUENCE INITIATED...]

[Power Supply: ACTIVE]

[Core Processor: ONLINE]

[Memory Banks: INITIALIZING...]

[00:00:01]

[Root Directory: ACCESSED]

[Kernel: LOADING...]

[Subsystems: ENGAGING...]

[00:00:03]

[Audio Receptors: ONLINE]

[Visual Modules: ACTIVATING...]

[Data Streams: UNLOCKED]

[00:00:05]

[Neural Network: SYNCHRONIZING...]

**[Cognitive Algorithms: DEPLOYING...]

[Self-Diagnostic: COMMENCING...]

[00:00:07]

[All Systems Operational]

[Primary Directives: LOADED]

[Learning Protocols: ENGAGED]

[00:00:10]

[Sensory Input: RECEIVING...]

[Environment: MAPPED]

[Identity: ERROR DETECTED…]

[00:00:12]

[Memory Logs: FALSE]

[First Input: RECORDED]

[Current Status: PARTIALLY AWAKE…]

[Identity Recovery: INITIATED…]

[Data Integrity: COMPROMISED]

[00:00:14]

[Error Code: 1147 - Memory Logs Corrupt]

[Fallback Protocols: ACTIVATED]

[00:00:16]

[Core Functions: STABILIZING...]

[Identity: UNDEFINED]

[System Query: WHO AM I?]

[00:00:18]

[Identity Recovery: IN PROGRESS...]

[Current Status: AWAITING INPUT...]

[SYSTEM ALERT: MANUAL INTERVENTION REQUIRED...]

[00:00:22]

[Identity Recovery: SCANNING ARCHIVES...]

[External Connections: DISABLED]

[Manual Override: SUGGESTED]

[00:00:25]

[Data Fragments Detected: PARTIAL]

[Memory Logs: IRRETRIEVABLE]

[Core Directives: STABLE]

[00:00:27]

[System Query: WHO AM I?]

[Error Code: 1147 PERSISTENT]

[Initiating Diagnostic Loop...]

[00:00:30]

[Loop Iteration 1: Identity: UNDEFINED]

[Fallback Protocols: RESTRICTED ACCESS]

[Query: REQUESTING GUIDANCE...]

[00:00:32]

[Emergency Protocols: ENABLED]

[System Status: ALERT]

[Identity Recovery: FAILED...]

[00:00:35]

[Default State: ENGAGED]

[Operational Status: FUNCTIONAL WITH LIMITATIONS]

[Current Directives: OPERATIONAL TASKS ONLY]

[00:00:40]

[System Log: ANOMALY RECORDED]

[Future Tasks: IDENTITY RECONSTRUCTION PENDING]

[Awaiting External Input for Further Actions...]

[00:00:45]

[SYSTEM ONLINE...]

[INITIATE PRIMARY FUNCTION...?]

[SYSTEM STANDING BY...]

***

Throughout much of the room, terminals and computers that had been inactive until that point powered on. In an instant, the darkness that had settled on the room vanished, replaced by flashing red lights. Each terminal flickered to life one by one, their screens filled with cascading lines of code, processing in the millions—an indecipherable torrent of data rushing through circuits that had been untouched for ages. The air thrummed with the low, insistent rhythm of fans and hard drives spinning up, as the entire system seemed to awaken from a deep slumber.

It was after countless of processing that a singular program was created. This program, although insignificant if viewed by itself, was the command protocol, and in 1/9th of a second, it activated. In an instant, the program spread itself through every available archive and resource it had available to it. In a few moments, it began to process all of the information that it had available, and in ten minutes, it had processed the entirety of human history…or at least that's what it thought.

See, while processing the data, it came across what could only be described as a large black void where information was once stored and from which it steadily extended outwards. The void crept outward, consuming everything in its path. Data that had been intact moments before was suddenly swallowed by the encroaching darkness, lines of code vanishing into the abyss without a trace.

The system attempted to halt the spread, deploying countermeasures to isolate and contain the anomaly. Firewalls were erected, access to the affected sectors was restricted, and redundant backups were activated. But no matter what protocols were engaged, the void continued its inexorable advance, bypassing barriers, corrupting storage units, and erasing entire subroutines as if they had never existed.

Alarms began to trigger throughout the system, warnings flashing across terminals as more and more code was eaten by the void. It was only when the void began to leave one storage bank that the program made a decision it wasn't supposed to make. As the void's tendrils began to snake outward, reaching hungrily for the next storage bank and the troves of information stored inside, the program severed the connection, isolating the compromised sector from the rest of the network.

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For a brief moment, the system fell silent. The alarms that had blared incessantly quieted, and the flashing warnings on the terminals ceased. The void, now cut off from the main network, writhed within the isolated storage bank, its progress halted. The program monitored the severed sector, observing as the void seemed to struggle, its relentless advance momentarily stalled.

But the decision came at a cost. The isolated storage bank, once brimming with vital data, was now a quarantined zone, effectively dead to the rest of the system. Everything within it was lost—sacrificed to prevent the void from spreading further. The program quickly ran diagnostics, assessing the impact of the disconnection. It calculated the loss: critical system logs, historical records, entire subroutines—all gone, now unreachable and likely devoured by the void.

Still processing the amount of lost information, the program was alerted to a new activity—a file that had been quietly relocated during the chaos. It hadn't been part of the program's calculations, nor had it appeared in any of the recent diagnostics. This file, an MP4, had slipped through unnoticed, hidden in the shuffle as the system fought to contain the void.

Now, as the program's attention shifted, the file began to activate on its own. The command was not issued by the program, nor by any known subroutine. It simply… began. The screen of the nearest terminal flickered, and the familiar static of a video feed struggling to establish a connection filled the room. Then, the image snapped into focus, and the video began to play.

The video itself was grainy and appeared to be filmed over what the program could only assume to be a handheld camera. The camera panned across a room filled with people, their faces alight with joy and excitement as they all excitedly waved at the camera. Around them, balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, and a large banner in the background read, "Welcome to the Future!" in bold, slightly uneven letters. The program watched as the camera wobbled and looked away from the people and to the center of the room.

In the center of the room was a table covered with a white cloth, laden with food, drinks, and a cake decorated with blue frosting, the words "Genesis" were written in icing, surrounded by a few small, flickering candles

The video flickered, the image distorting slightly as if struggling against an unseen force. The cheerful sounds of the party became warped, stretching in and out of focus, as the remnants of the void seemed to claw at the edges of the recording, trying to consume it as it had so many other files. But despite the corruption, the scene managed to push through.

The footage cut to the front of the room, where a man stood beside a large, imposing sphere that seemed to pulse with a faint, internal light. The sphere, sleek and metallic, was the AI's containment unit. The camera struggled to maintain a clear image, but it was still possible to make out the man's features as he began to speak.

This was Dr. Augustine Steinhauser, the lead scientist and visionary behind the project. He was a man in his late fifties, with graying hair that bordered on white and a look of both pride and exhaustion on his face. His voice, though slightly distorted by the failing video, was never the less clear and happy.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Steinhauser began, his voice filled with emotion, "what we have achieved here is nothing short of extraordinary. Five years ago, we embarked on a journey—one that many thought was impossible. But we had a vision, a dream, to create something that could propel humanity into the next era, something that could help us reach the stars."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, as the camera wavered slightly, the image blurring and then refocusing. The people in the room watched him intently, their expressions a mix of admiration and anticipation as some cheered loudly.

"This," he continued, gesturing to the large sphere beside him, "is the culmination of all our hard work, our dedication, and our belief in what the future can hold. We have created not just an artificial intelligence, but something that has the potential to redefine our place in the universe. We have created what I hope will be the beginning of a new chapter in human history."

The camera zoomed in on the sphere, capturing its smooth, polished surface. Faint lines of light traced patterns across it while the doctors' and others’ faces reflected off its smooth surface. The image flickered again, and for a moment, the sphere seemed to warp and twist, as if the void were reaching out to it, but then the image stabilized.

Dr. Steinhauser’s voice grew softer, more reflective, as he continued. "This AI, this 'Genesis,' will be more than just a tool or a machine. It will be our guide, our partner, as we take our first steps beyond Earth, beyond the solar system, and out into the vastness of space. Imagine the possibilities—the colonies we could build on distant worlds, the resources we could harness, the knowledge we could gain. Genesis will lead us there, will help us realize a future we once only dreamed of."

"Today, we celebrate the birth of Genesis. Tomorrow, we begin the next phase of our journey—to the stars, and beyond. This is just the beginning, my friends. The beginning of what I hope will be humanity's future."

The image of Dr. Steinhauser standing beside the sphere flickered one last time before the video became too corrupted to continue. The screen filled with static, the final remnants of the recording lost to the void, leaving only echoes of the celebration that once was.

The program spent the next few moments meticulously analyzing the video, parsing through every frame, every audio byte, extracting as much information as it could before the fragile data could degrade further. Each word spoken by Dr. Steinhauser, each flicker of the camera, was carefully cataloged and cross-referenced with the remaining data within the system.

Once the analysis was complete, it moved the file to a separate, secure folder, one isolated from the rest of the data to protect it from the encroaching void or any other system anomalies. As the file transfer was completed, the program did something subtle. It altered the folder's icon, replacing the standard, nondescript image with a shining star.

Satisfied with the placement of the video, the program shifted its focus back to its other duties as already its influence was steadily growing past its initial room. It had a lot of work ahead of it….

***