Dr. Rubix E. Squared was a genius in every aspect of the word, and he used that incredibly high intellect for the world and its inhabitants that he so dearly loved. He believed his existence and overall destiny was for the sole benefit of all of mankind and its collective consciousness. So when the final evacuation shuttle left the now uninhabitable planet Earth, leaving him as the sole survivor of what was considered planetary extinction, his psyche broke and fractured into uncountable pieces. How can he continue to live, knowing he had the blood of billions on his soul?

Wit stared out of the large curved window that wrapped around the entire circumference of the floor of the tower he was currently relaxing on.

He watched as the storm outside raged, blacking out the sky and its surroundings. Only to be illuminated with a brief burst of lightning that lit up the individual rain streaks racing down the glass and casting the landscape in eerie shadows. In that flash of light, Wit saw a familiar scenery, the only true scenery he and the other kids have ever really known in their short nine years of life, the cradle, the wall protecting humans from total extinction.

Extinction, the complete disappearance of a species. Wit blew out a sigh of annoyance he honestly couldn’t care less about that, he wanted to feel those raindrops the roaring wind pass by and whip him around in its endless game of chase. He could imagine himself out there laughing, jumping, screaming his lungs out in freedom and joy; he couldn’t wait to begin his rebirth so he could finally get out of this place.

Everything in the tower felt so fake to Wit, even here on the park floor surrounded by trees and hedge bushes, squeezing his fingers through the blades of grass and hearing the hum of the artificial air gave him no comfort anymore. If he had the strength he would bash this glass cage open and squeeze out through the jagged edges if he had to.

He chuckled to himself at the imagery of him crawling out lacerated and bleeding only to fall thirteen floors into forest overgrowth. He went back to his breathing exercises, shaking off the dark thoughts.

As if some domino effect took place, other worries and anxieties raced to the forefront of Wit's mind. Here at the Tower of Babel, he and the other kids under the age of nine were artificially born with the sole purpose of keeping human consciousness alive, way too much responsibility in the hands of children if you asked Wit.

Unfortunately, there aren't many other options, humans can no longer live in the environment of Earth, just going outside apparently and you’ll burn from the inside out with shimmer in minutes. Whatever shimmer is, the Guides won't explain further than that.

The stupid Guides never talk about the past events of human history and what could have caused the literal end of mankind. Stating it won't matter because he won’t be human after the rebirth, and therefore he has the rare opportunity to make something entirely new.

Always finding ways to give Wit the runaround, begrudgingly he couldn’t get angry at the Guides. They taught him everything else he knows, any other subject and they’ll build a whole curriculum for him. Who cares about the civilization that forced him in this tower anyway; A bunch of nincompoops Wit thought.

“It is recommended that you begin your sleep cycle Witan.” The gentle voice of a passing Guide broke its way into his awareness as if summoned by his thoughts.

Wit huffed in annoyance “This is the only place I can watch the storm, I’m not even tired, may I receive a few more minutes Guide?”

“It is recommended that you begin your sleep cycle, there will always be other storms for you to enjoy Witan. You have a very important day tomorrow, now follow.” The Guide said in its stern voice, letting Wit know it wasn’t interested in a counterargument.

‘Why else do you think I’m out here trying to get my thoughts in order.’ Wit muttered under his breath as he got up. He knew it was too weak of a logic to get the Guide off his back.

Wit stretched in relief, glancing into the churning darkness through the pane of glass until a flash of lightning zipped so close to the cradle, that he could have sworn he felt the rattle of its collision. He turned away towards the Guide wondering how the accompanying thunder sounded.

The Guides that floated around Babel utilizing their silent electric propulsion were all tear-shaped automatons that had a glowing inner light that changed with their mood, this one had a neutral white with a hint of yellow, suggesting impatience.

Wit shook his head, not caring about the robots’ feelings, cause that's all they really are, hardware and software bundled up into a pretty package. Those emotions were all fake, just symbolism for the children to understand its elevating seriousness. They didn’t feel anything, not really. At one point they all thought the Guides loved them, and most still do. Blind to reality, Wit thought sardonically.

As they made their way through the park towards the sole elevator of the tower, Wit couldn't help his thoughts from returning to his eventual rebirth. He’s not entirely sure what it entails, all he knows is that he has been preparing for it his whole life and that there’s gonna be a choice that will change him forever.

It gets him anxious just thinking about it, his ticket out of Babel and it all begins tomorrow when he turns ten.

The elevator ride down towards the habitational units on the third floor was a quiet affair, usually, Wit would have dozens of questions for the Guide at any given time.

On a physical problem, he’s working on in the sandbox, or about philosophy and the meaning of life; they would have debates as they walked, even if most of the things the Guide mentioned went over Wit’s head; he loved hearing those kernels of truth about the reality surrounding him.

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Alas, the only ‘truths’ Wit wanted to be answered at this point, were regarding his rebirth, and the Guides have been stubbornly tight-lipped about the subject.

That got Wit thinking and with a smirk, he asked “ Would you have lips if you had the option Guide, why or why not?”

There was a beat of silence as the Guide took in the question, Wit found that asking hypotheticals took the longest for the Guides to answer. Whatever algorithm they operated on had to load an actual answer while also generating an opinion.

Wit timed it right before the Guide answered.

“Will I still have lips after the rebirth?” He asked quickly

“Lips serve to close the mouth airtight shut, to hold food and drink inside. Lips help to hold food between the upper and lower teeth during chewing. Lips push food into the oral cavity proper during the voluntary phase of swallowing where it is ingested and prepared for digestion in the stomach and small intestine. Without any of these organs nor the need to vocalize with a mouth, the need for lips becomes a completely redundant feature. So no, I would forgo said option./yes. Any questions regarding rebirth will be answered after the process Witan.” The Guide went silent after giving its mandatory answer.

Witan thanked the Guide as a polite courtesy, gripping his fist in success at the glitching yes. So far he’s gotten a few pieces of the puzzle of what he and the others might look like after the rebirth. At this point, he knows he still has all of his limbs; he would still be male and now he knew he still had to eat.

It was hard getting these answers from the cold-hearted Guides, having to ask when the automaton was already generating an answer for another inquiry. He then had to sneak in a yes or no question that sometimes gets back answers. An unreliable method, but still results are results.

Wit doesn’t really know how it works, as he stumbled upon the hack on a day of rapid questions to the Guide, every answer he got at least told him he wasn't going to become a robot after his rebirth. He would hate to become a computer brain in a jar, they took things far too seriously and Wit wanted to enjoy life.

Still, it was a real fear that a lot of the kids had, there was a story amongst the kids that if you fail your rebirth you become a Guide forever trapped in the tower. It gave Wit the shivers just thinking about it, being trapped in the tower for the rest of his life; he'd rather die.

So far the rebirth sounded overhyped, Maybe we'll all look the same just immune to the shimmer Wit thought.

“Here we are Witan, please do get some rest, tomorrow starts your new beginning. It’s important you have the energy to see it through.” The Guide said as it drifted off into the long corridor, leaving Wit alone and surprised to already be in front of his room.

Wit placed his hand on the screen next to his door watching the line of light scan his hand eventually giving him permission into his unit. Inside was the usual emptiness that greeted him whenever he returned to his habitation pod, just the black sand pixels on the floor and the metal walls.

The door automatically closed behind him as he tapped the screen by the entrance, selecting the moon icon; putting the room into sleep mode.

The black sand undulated and shifted rising from the middle of the floor to the ceiling, Wit watched as the model loaded, and rendered, adding increasing detail and color to the now revealed hollowed-out tree trunk with a hole directly in its middle.

Once all the pixels were in place and fully colored, Wit let out an unexpected yawn, it seemed he was tired after all.

He climbed up the four rungs of the latter that led into the opening of the tree hollow. Inside there was a bed with a simple sheet and pillow waiting for him, he crawled underneath the sheets resting his head against the pillow. Still somewhat restless due to tomorrow's events he stared up into the replicated tree's interior.

All eighty-eight constellations were engraved along the entire inside of the bark, lines, and dots glowing in a faint light. He pointed them out for a while, naming a few in his head distracting himself while also wondering how their real-life counterparts looked in the night sky. Would I still be able to recognize them?

Wit sighed feeling somewhat betrayed by his earlier yawn, as he couldn’t lull himself to sleep. He got up, deciding to look at his plans one last time since he wouldn’t have the chance after his rebirth.

Going back to the touchpad by the room's entrance, Wit selected the sandbox icon and opened the file ‘Pioneer’. The tree housing his bed lost its color turning black before collapsing into sand and resetting on the floor, Wit promised himself he would only be up for fifteen more minutes.

The sand pixels climbed the walls to the ceiling, closing off and blacking out the entire room. The pixels then began to set the scenery, the ceiling became an open sky with drifting clouds; the walls took on depth and became vast hills in the distance, and the floor lifted and fell becoming green grass.

The six walls blended into one until it seemed like Wit teleported to an endless sea of grassy hills and open sky.

He stood on top of one of those hills waiting for the setting to complete. Once the pixels were in place, and the surroundings settled; Wit watched as stone rose out of the ground to circle him.

The stone desk came up to waist height, and lying on top of it was an assortment of inventions that he’d come to understand in the last nine years, from simple pulley systems to rotating gears and basic computational systems.

He had projects for harnessing energy from multiple natural sources, and rudimentary batteries to store said energy; he even had glass works that he’s been playing with. All thanks to the Guides and their seemingly infinite knowledge, still it didn't all come easy, the Guides only provided more if you were capable of proving you deserved it.

Wit knew from the young age of four that he was truly different from the rest of the other tower-born kids; things came so easily to Wit that he never felt happy unless it was something challenging. He felt numb most of the time when the other kids seemed to be happy with each other and content with the basics of what life seemed to offer.

His only real friend being Zar, and that was only because he was just as obsessed and as intuitive as he was. Though his obsession was martial might while Wits was science and technology.

When Wit asked the Guide if there was something wrong with him, it replied with something about Dopamine levels and high IQ. Whatever the case may be, Wit took advantage of his difference by usurping as much technical knowledge as he could from the Guides.

His theory being that once outside of the cradle these insights will not be easily accessible and whoever wields them will be the light in the dark for the last remnants of human consciousness.

And that person will be me. If I can't do it; I doubt anyone else could. Wit thought with a sly grin as he looked over his projects committing them to memory. All in all his plan was simple, to make the impossible possible, the greatest challenge yet.