As Troy took his first step into the reality that he could trust, realisations finally began whirling inside his head. The puzzle-room had affected his condition too much, muddling his heed for action. Had he ever really been in power?
Standing right outside the massive cube, he could not help but wonder how it worked. Being right next to the massive thing, it was easy to spot its large dimensions. The walls hid it well. The puzzle room was much bigger than it had been initially thought as. Looking to the sides, only darkness could be found. Seeing it from anywhere else in the room was impossible. Yet seeing it for himself was thought-provoking. How far in did the room go? It was getting harder to believe that it was all contained in the small space Troy knew.
There always were two exits. One just needed to look close enough. And he was certainly trying his hardest. Would it be hard to believe it was hidden? It wasn't something out of the ordinary in the facility, after all.
There had to be some fire regulations about hidden doors. Regulations which were thoroughly ignored. Could the government do that, legally speaking? Just, like, refuse any check-ups on themselves, keeping all the exposition to other people? There probably was some ground jurisdiction preventing that, but there were just as likely people not caring any small bit about what the law said. Likely took those rules as guidelines.
Taking along the humorously large corruption-level of the government, Troy knew he just had to look carefully enough. If there was one thing, which could reveal any secret door, it would be the largest folly of mankind. Themself. No sane person would go through a hundred little steps, just to retrieve their lunchbox. They would instead prefer a one-action process. Switch a letter, hit a wall, say some codeword neatly written down. Hell, it might even be some quick dance routine.
Taking a look at the slightly-hunched over doctor, Troy took that last idea off the list. It would have to do some less physically-demanding things, putting the spotlight right back onto the button idea.
Where would one hide a switch, which unveiled a secret room? Staring intently onto the usual standing-places, much exertion was used to find out. His brain was wracked over and over again. As they said, brute force was a viable technique, so long as you had enough of it.
'Has testing taken a mental toll on you?` Adam questioned.
The voice startled Troy more than he liked to admit. It had been a while since the AI had contacted him, allowing him to get used to the lower volumes. It had been great, if but for a moment, to only hear the quiet tappings on the screen. A moment of… serenity.
“What? No. Of course not,” Troy answered with an exhale to get out with it. A mental toll? It might not have been too far from the truth. He wasn't tired, he wasn't hungry, and his body wasn't hurting. Troy was in an optimal state of physicality. Yet, there still was that feeling. It was not one he had felt for so long. What had it even been called? It had taken so long to find out last time.
Remorse? No… that wasn't it. Close, but more along the lines of-
“Oh, dang it!” Dr Fidelis exclaimed. “I nearly forgot about you, Troy! This footage really is too much for me to understand in the first see-through. What are you still doing up there? Hasn't the test been finished for a while now? I'm pretty sure that I let you out immediately? Did I… Yeah, I did. Come on down here, would you? We don't have much left on the schedule, but that doesn't mean we have to be slow about things here. Efficiency is the only real key to success.”
The doctor went right back onto his deep stare into his screen. Yet, this time he seemed much more aware of his surroundings, the body ready to move quickly. How was Troy able to see this? Well, he had gotten himself a good load of practice looking at the small differences. Whatever criticisms could be used for the puzzle room, and the various ethical questions that came with it, that place was anything but unrealistic. If he closed his eyes slowly enough, Troy still thought he could see Evon smiling in him, as the needle slowly was inserted into his… Whatever.
“We will talk later,” Troy told the AI, beginning the careful walk down the few steps.
'As you wish,` was heard in reply as the earpiece was pulled out of the ear. Troy gave it a good long look. The thing before him was a masterpiece. People would have been called crazy if they stated the possibility of this thing being built. Dr Fidelis never paid the thing much mind, but Troy could see the care he gave the small device. The doctor deeply cared for this creation, both in its integrity and what it meant for all. No, he was getting ahead of him there, saying such things. The doctor was dreaming about the things it could mean for all.
The treasured device was left at the table. He had a hard time finding any reaction because of it coming from Dr Fidelis. A look, like many before, was given to the electronic screen, a focus windowed into many thoughts. And just like the many times tried before, Troy would have been better off not even looking. It was akin to seeing people solve a thirty-two sided Rubix-cube. Acknowledgement for their accomplishment, maybe with some mild clapping along with kind words, but no way in hell would anybody sane try to imitate the action. At this point, Troy wasn't even sure if the doctor was looking at his work. The morphing had turned radical, circles turning into fractals, fractals turning into Penrose triangles, and those fancy triangles turning into weirdly realistic pictures of skating sheep.
“You should get changed, Troy,” Dr Fidelis said. The man being talked to hadn't even seen the doctor acknowledge him, making the sudden words surprise him dearly. “This is not meant maliciously, but I can smell where you are currently located.”
Being told by one’s superior to go away, in such an abstract fashion, was a new one for him. Sure, he had been told to trifle away, but that certainly hadn't been due to any bodily odours. Safer to say, that the true reasons during those times had been a lack of caution in his words.
Not a mistake he was hoping to make again. As nobody said nowadays, the thirteenth time was the charm.
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Troy hurried over to his jerry-rigged changing room. The fancy curtain was drawn, giving him the needed privacy to get out of the things. The reintroduction had allowed his nose to wake up from hibernation. That had further allowed him to realise just what he was walking around in.
Luckily, there had been no delay in getting the bit-too-skintight suit off, it decompressed before privacy had ever truly been gained. It stuck more than a little to the skin, but that was more of an encouragement to get the thing off quickly.
His regular clothes were quickly reacquainted with before Troy got himself out of the changing room. He stretched, feeling the pops in the back, that told him he had been unmoving for too long. Or that he just hadn't been moving the right way for some time.
It was a shame that he still didn't know the time. More annoying really. It would have been great to know, but the only working clock was that screen Dr Fidelis continued fiddling around with, the fingers moving faster than anything a man his age should have been able to.
Well… there was his brain-implant. It was his little, personal screen, with only his eyes ever getting to look upon it. Allowing nearly anything to be streamed, played, or otherwise manipulated, the intent of mind would allow any person to never feel the annoying itch of boredom.
It was also the leading cause of suicide, but that wasn't listed on the figurative poster anywhere.
Troy had been an avid user of his perfect outdated device, never going ten minutes without it. Even in his sleep, he had been using it for white noise. It always helped him calm down, never hearing that intruding silence. The implant had been his saviour, never regretting the moment he paid under the table to get it activated early.
Back in the day, the government had realised the problems brain-implants gave. Anti-social behaviour, literal addiction, and a large body over-manipulated mind ran rampant throughout the world. It brought so many positives, but so much more negatives as well.
The changes were not mental either. If it had been left at causing psychological problems, people higher up would probably have left it alone. The business was flourishing everywhere, people being given various more enhanced reminders of their need for the new big product.
Brains were funky things. Even now, people still have problems getting their head around them. We know as a fact that they do work, we kinda know how they work, but we don't know why. We can pull on all the little bits, show where they send the signals, even give little separations of their individual jobs, but there is so much more that can't be really explained all that well. Sentience would be a great illustration of that.
One thing was of course know. When growing up, the brain changed as much physically as it did mentally. Every little hit made it grow. For better or for worse, every influence had its own little pay-off. And those fancy brain-implants were no different. The effect might even have shown more prominently.
It took a whole decade before the effects really started to show. It had been in a small time-frame, that it was trendy to give little kids their first brain-implant. Age three and ready to step into the digital world. Nearly literally in this case. Those little youngsters got so good at using their little cute implants, with just as cute brand-names attached, that some just gave up on their bodies. Their minds had centred around the implants. They got near-all sensory input from it. Parents had thought it the world's greatest product. Kids would never have to scream for anything if the implant provided just what they wanted with a thought.
Addiction from the age of seven. Took four years of exposure, before they stopped moving their bodies. No force was brought into it. The kids just willingly succumbed to a life of the digital, no matter what their bodies had to say about it.
There was no real cure for this. Attempts were made to remove the brain-implants. Most died from surgery, but some were successfully separated from their lives. The first was nearly a gift, in comparison to the next. The mind was a curious thing, turning the world upon its head several times. When it didn't get what it had lived with for most of its life, there were consequences. Self-cannibalization, starting all the way from within. Self-made asphyxiation symptoms, entirely unstoppable once started.
The kids who didn't get their implants removed were lying quietly in their very own hospital bed. If they hadn't deteriorated from enhanced ageing yet, of course. Troy remembered a documentary he saw about it a few years ago. It had been a real tear-jerker. The jokes had been much more entertaining though. How they had managed to turn it all into a dark comedy still fascinated him to no end.
The effects were not as extreme when people grew older. The brain settled into place, more comfortable in its standings. It could still change, of course. Stopping that would be akin to suicide. Yet… adults could live their whole lives as normal, with that brain-implant put in.
The government had never really banned the brain-implants. At that point, nearly eighty per cent of the people living had something or other jabbed into their head. What could they have done? Performed invasive surgery, with an extremely high rate of death, on nearly twenty billion people just so they could uphold order? No, it was much easier to simply outlaw the various applications.
An age-restrictor. And an exceedingly good one at that. Most kids, between the age of twenty-one and seven, only ever heard of the things a brain-implant could give. Most had never even seen the colourful screen before their eyes. Only the dearest of emergencies allowed temporary access. It was upon mental maturity that they were let loose, allowed to use the wonderful invention to the fullest, allowing both pleasure and security in one firm bundle.
There was no point waiting, though. That had been the thoughts of a certain idiot. It still brought a grimace to his face, thinking about the techniques used to get access. Troy had paid some guy to do it for him, of course. No way he would be sticking his hands into his head, hoping for something positive out of it. It had included more than a couple of needles and some amateurish therapy after the fact, but he had gotten the bite of the apple early.
Troy had been in the safe zone when access had been allowed to him. No way was he getting any chance of being comatose. His mind was his own, and he wouldn't be a sack of flesh, being kept alive by people wishing him dead. He willed it to be so.
That was how it worked, right? In the beginning and middle, he had certainly thought of it in such a peculiar way. A peculiarly stupid way. Giddiness had been felt, being allowed to step into the shoes of an adult. The system had acknowledged him as such, and who would be saying no to something digital. A machine can't lie now, can it?
That feeling of pleasure had lasted Troy a good year. As was obvious, over-use had been prevalent. Thoughts about how to use it, using it, then thinking some more about its uses while also using. That was life. The school was easy when one had the handy cheat-sheet in the mind. Nobody thought of that chance of course. Why would they?
It got hard though when Troy had a seizure. It had been a normal day. A Normal breakfast, a normal walk to school, and just a normal class. According to the people sitting close to him at the time, his legs had tensed themselves instantly, arms swinging just as hard. Having been in a sitting position, this head flung his head at the all so comfortable metal corners of a desk.
After a week in the hospital, he had admitted his mistakes. The people had not been happy, whoever they might have been. Troy didn't remember much from that time in his life. Brain scans had been had, swears had been uttered, and removal had been discussed. The idea had been turned down, with Troy’s mind having been extraordinary in its quick assimilation. He could survive without the brain-implants constant sensation, sure, but the literal components had put themselves well into his brain-stem. They had a better chance of replacing all his organs at once. So, the next alternative had been decided on. Complete isolation from anything resembling brain-implants.
Suffice to say, it had been hard for him. Not the greatest turn to live with. Lies had been exposed quickly. The school had demanding reasons for the injuries gotten inside their location. It took a single teacher mumbling a little too loud before the school was in an uproar about it.
Having gotten to the top of the hill, Troy had unwillingly begun the downwards trek. Life had not been the same since. Once somebody had a taste, it was nearly impossible to get back. Maybe it was for the better, that he had no choice in this matter. The brain-implant had been hard-locked. Attempts had been made, and money had been given back.
Now, with that more fancy thing in his head, it was not unlikely that his chances of regaining his former glory had turned from improbable to outright impossible.
Such was life.
…
What had he been thinking about again?
“Finally got yourself dressed, buddy? Transcendent! Get over here, and let's have ourselves a little talking.”
Oh, yeah. That was it.