A crisp, sharp light, pierces through the window of John’s apartment, diligently stabbing his eyeballs as he continues tossing and turning in his alluring bed, hopelessly struggling to fall back asleep. “It... Really wasn’t a dream...” John mumbles through exhaustion and an aching back, as he clumsily fumbles around trying to grab his cracked phone that he had somehow managed to plug in last night to charge. He had desperately hoped the vivid events from last night were a dream, but was severely disappointed waking up to the cuts and scrapes plastered across his hands, and agonizing, shooting pain crawling up his back.
Rolling over, and, realizing it was only going to be a hopeless endeavor returning back to the world of dreams, John manages to find the strength to sit up, rubbing his eyes, while taking in the scenery outside his window on the 8th floor of the condominium building. Just below on the street, he can visibly see the damage caused from the giant robots, as large chunks of asphalt are missing from the once... “Well, I guess it needed to get patched sooner or later.” He yawns, rationalizing that perhaps there was some good in the aliens damaging the road...
While construction crews were already “hard at work” making the necessary repairs on the now closed roadway, John firmly grabbed his cracked phone, pressing the buttons along the side in annoyance, before letting out a heavy sigh. He had wanted to check Tikdok for anymore information, but it seems that will have to wait until later.
Wanting to get his day started, and, in an effort for some normalcy, John finds some additional energy to finally get out of bed, stretching, and cracking some of the built-up pressure within his joints. He stumbles, still dazed and foggy from his dream, but manages to reach the bathroom and splash some cold water onto his face. The water thankfully provides the burst of alertness he desperately needed, while he continues getting prepared for another day of existing.
Still mulling over the events that had happened to him last night, John walks towards his computer, chuckling lightly that he had forgotten to turn it off for the night, before shaking the mouse to also wake up the machine he’s most proficient in using. Sitting down, he quickly tabs over to his internet browser, and rapidly begins trying to search for anything related to the Xinos, or giant robots battling across the globe. However, he’s surprised by the lack of evidence as he continues crawling through forums, and video hosting sites alike in an effort to find information. He keeps coming across lengthy posts claiming there was an elaborate ploy by a foreign government, but it strongly reads as a conspiracy theory to him. “Seriously... There’s absolutely nothing about them here...” he quietly mumbles to himself while scratching the back of his head.
John’s eyes snap to his phone, as he remembers himself recording two of the robots fighting just outside his apartment building. “The screen’s cracked, but... fingers crossed.” He says, while removing the casing and flipping open the side cover for his extra memory storage. Then, removing the tiny chip, John plugs it into his adaptor when suddenly...
*Ding dong*
“The doorbell??” John wasn’t expecting anyone, typically keeping to himself and his streaming audience, but figures it might be related to building management due to the extensive damage caused last night.
Not in any sort of hurry, John checks the file on his memory card and breaths a sigh of relief that the footage is still there. He quickly skims through parts of the footage, then gets up from his chair to answer the door. “Guess I’ll try uploading this later and see what happens...” he yawns again as the doorbell rings once more. Still sensitive to loud sounds, John yells “Just a second.” As he reaches the kitchen and turns the lock to open the creaking doors.
“Ah, Mr. Sherwood, I presume?” John was greeted in a somewhat formal tone from one of the men standing outside the door. Rubbing his eyes again, and wondering if movies were in fact accurate, John observes two tall people in professional black suits, spotting matching black shades, standing in front of him. He vaguely remembers similar attire from a T.V. show he watched as a kid, but figures his mind is probably just “primed” to make the connection due to recently seeing aliens himself. “Umm, yes... Can I...—”
“No need to strain yourself Mr. Sherwood. We understand it’s early in the morning, and are glad to see you’re safe after the horrible disaster last night.” The man rudely cut him off, while his associate pulled out a clipboard and pen. “Ya... It was kinda crazy last night I guess.” John manages to mumble in response while he continues scrutinizing the men in suits. “Agreed Mr. Sherwood. Now, we don’t want to keep you too long, but building management has requested we check on each of the residence to ensure they are safe. Fortunately, the earthquake didn’t cause too much damage to the condo’s foundation, but there will need to be some repairs on site, which may obstruct your enjoyment of the facilities.”
John was doing their best to listen to the suits, but not really interested in what they were saying. His mind was focused on ending the conversation quickly so he could get back to uploading his video footage from last night, when he suddenly realized something very odd about what the man said. “Earth...Quake...?” The words left John’s mouth with an air of confusion. There was certainly no earthquake last night, at least what he could remember. The damage was caused by giant robot aliens. John knew this as a fact having been personally involved with them, so why did they say... “Umm, I don’t exactly remember there being an earthquake last night Mr...”
“Smith.” Responded the taller man in a sharp tone, once again cutting him off midsentence, while his associate tapped a pen against the clipboard. “Right... Uhh, wasn’t the damage cause by... You know... Giant robot—” “Aliens? Oh, no no no Mr. Sherwood, you are surely mistaken. The building was damaged by a category 5 earthquake.” Annoyed he was cut off again, John noticed the man turn to his associate and nod, prompting the shorter individual to write something on his clipboard. “Did you perhaps see some footage online about robotic aliens?” Came the man’s response in a sharp and serious tone after a lengthy pause. “No, I— I was chased by—”
“Oh... It’s worse that I thought.” Said the taller man softly, as his associate continued to jot down notes about their conversation. Eventually, after recollecting his thoughts, the professional spoke to John in a deep, heavy voice, trying to convey the seriousness of his next words. “I’m not sure how to tell you this Mr. Sherwood, but I believe you’re one of the “influenced”.”
“Influenced...” mumbled John as the agent continued taking notes. “Yes. It’s the current working term for those who have fallen prey to the advanced artificial intelligence attack from an undisclosed foreign nation last night. All across the globe, videos and recordings showcasing giant robot aliens battling amongst each other, with humans caught in the crossfire, surfaced last night on the internet. The damage and destruction caused was exceptionally brutal and graphic, and many individuals believed the footage was real, due to how realistic the recordings were. Some people, even believe they were personally involved because of this.”
John wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret what the strange, professional man was telling him, as they continued to ramble on about how all of the events he had personally experienced last night, were apparently “not real”. “But I’m positive I—“
“Have you even heard of the term hysteria, Mr. Sherwood? The attack was so sophisticated, that it caused mass hysteria across the population. Research is still being conducted into how this occurred, but the influenced all shared a strong belief they were personally involved in this complex information attack.” The man paused briefly, staring deeply into John’s eyes, which made him slightly uncomfortable. John was having serious doubts about this conversation, and the authenticity of the individuals before him. Truthfully, he never questioned them, but everything about this conversation was starting to become suspicious to him. Realizing something was terribly wrong, John quickly tried to close the door, but it was stopped by the taller man with his foot. “Apologies Mr. Sherwood, but please, take this.” He said while removing and handing John a small business card with only a phone number scrawled across. “Please call the number on this card if your condition gets worse. The government has setup a—”
“Thanks.” Said John, finally finding the opportunity to interrupt the man on his own terms. “I’ll be sure to give it a call.” He quietly uttered while grabbing the card. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Sherwood. Take care now.”
As the men turned to leave, John quietly closed the door, while rotating the odd paper around and through his fingers. He knew what he experienced last night was real, evident by the fact he was quite sore, and the video footage he still had on his memory card. “Right, my memory card. I gotta uploading my recording. Something is very, very wrong.” However, when John got back to his computer, a troubling sight awaited him.
“Where’s the video file?!?! I... I literally watched it just a few minutes ago!” John scrambles back into his chair and frantically begins looking through the file folder. He had left the video playing when he went to answer the door, but the footage, along with all the data from his memory card, had suddenly disappeared when he returned. His chest felt tight, as he continues desperately searching his computer to no avail. Why did the door suddenly have to ring? What happened while he was away? There’s no way the data would have magically deleted itself. John’s eyes glance towards the door of his apartment, then back to his memory adaptor. He tries unplugging and plugging it back in again, but nothing happens. “Damnit.” He grumbles, as he rests his hands against his forehead. “None of this makes any sense...”
John hits the side of his desk, slightly harder than he probably should have, but at this point, he’s just incredibly frustrated. Strange men in suits, randomly showed up at his door, claiming he is an “influenced”, suffering from mass hysteria, when he vividly remembers the events from last night, and now his video footage is mysteriously missing.
He thinks about his struggle to survive last night, running into the forest, helping the giant robot named F.O.X., and eventually realizing he helped them kill another human. Looking at his phone, while still firmly grasping his memory card, John mutters “Is... Is it because, I said I don’t want to participate in their battle royal?? Did... Did that machine... Do this??”
As he’s reflecting, he realizes that he never had the opportunity to really talk with the Xinos named F.O.X., but as he remembers some of the words he said to them last night, John starts to regret some of his actions. Yes, they were aliens, and yes, he technically did help F.O.X. kill the other robot after them, and, by extension, the human they had also bonded with... But that was information he didn’t know at the time. Sure, he could have extrapolated that possibility, but was it really wrong to defend himself? If the being really was an incredibly advanced machine, it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibilities it could have somehow hacked his computer and deleted his footage... John shakes his head to clear some of his thoughts. Perhaps, he was too harsh with the machine... They helped save him after all, and, instead of thanking them, he berated it, yelling that he never wanted to see them again.
John looks at the back of his hand where the cable attached itself last night. There is still a bruise from where it embedded into his skin, but he’s not bothered by it. He rubs the area slightly, then looks back towards the apartment door. “Ya... Maybe I shouldn’t have done that to the thing that saved my life...” he says in a soft tone, getting up from his chair to walk towards his running shoes. Everything is confusing, and doesn’t feel real. He could probably stream some games of Fork Knife later, since it appears the world isn’t descending into chaos, but for now, he wants to exercise to take his mind off things.
Changing into some sweatpants and a light jacket to ward off the autumns cold, John throws his running shoes on, and gets ready to take one of his usual jogging routes. He has always enjoyed running for its ability to clear his head, and thinks exercising would be the best thing to do right now. John also figures he can scout some of the damage that happened last night, giving him more motivation to head out. He intends to check out the forest path, then eventually finish up around one of the popular shopping centers.
John walks down the condominium’s stairs for his warmup, making sure to stretch his arms and legs during the descent. He’s surprised to see that most of the stray debris has already been cleared, and that most of the blood is gone as well. In the main lobby, all of the computers have already been replaced, and a sloppily written sign covers the elevators reading “Out of Service”. He looks at the attendants sitting around their desk, and remarks they look like their usual, bored selves. The world itself, appears oblivious to the chaos that had happened last night, and John seriously begins to doubt his own memories, at least until he’s outside the building.
While “thankfully” not embedded in the side of the building anymore, the damage to the outside is very clearly “bus shaped”, at least, according to John. He takes a brief moment to admire the indent between the 1st and 2nd floors, along with some of the metal and glass fragments littering the concrete below, before turning to formally start his jog. He laughs slightly at the makeshift sign, and sloppy tape sectioning off the damaged parts of the building and mumbles “Par for the course, really.” As he starts to pickup speed.
The air is crispy, and chills his lungs with every breath as he continues jogging down the sidewalk. All of the people John passes by are glued to their phones, and carefully maneuvering around the damaged sections of sidewalks, unconcerned as they continue along. The road is also damaged in parts, with most of it being fully blocked off for maintenance crews to work without interruption, resulting in no traffic. Eventually, John reaches his favourite coffee shop, where he observes people going about there day as if nothing strange had happened. “Was it really hysteria?” he murmurs to himself, as he picks up the pace, heading into the forest.
There is clear damage to the trees, as John makes it about 5 minutes in. Many have fallen unnaturally, with bark and splinters scattered across the ground. He tries to remember where he came across the robot last night, since he recalls a spacecraft being involved, but is unable to locate it, even when following areas with heavy damage. Continuing on, John comes to the edge of the forest, his next logical area to check, since there should be a giant robot corpse resting in the middle of the powerline fields. However, he’s unable to see travel any further.
Large sections of metal fencing have already been erected, blocking off his access to the fields where G.O.R. was killed. He can see some vans and heavy machinery in the distance, but can’t clearly make out what they are doing. Repair is also already underway on the powerlines, but he can’t go any further. While disappointed, he’s at least happy to confirm this is probably the biggest piece of evidence he can collect at the moment, as he spots a helicopter circling above, and what potentially looks like some military vehicles as well. Those are the types of things typically not seen during routine powerline repair... He hopes...
Turning back, John decides to begin wrapping up his jogging route by heading to the nearby shopping warehouse. It’s generally pretty busy, but connects to a nice section of the city along one of his usual routes. He has already been running for about 30minutes now, and the pain in his body is finally starting to get tolerable.
Weaving through the forest, John gets back onto one of the main roads and heads north. He’s already looking forward to a nice relaxing shower when he gets back, with the rest of his day spent streaming Fork Knife to his audience. However, John feels a sense of unease tugging at him, which he can only describe as he’s being watched. He doesn’t see anything nearby, but a chill keeps crawling up his spine when he looks behind him. John shakes his head, trying to refocus on reaching a runner’s high, and continues on.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
To his left, he can see the warehouse, packed to the brim with vehicles, and an equally daunting line leading out of the complimentary gas station offering cheaper fuel for those with a membership. It’s one of those shopping places where you need to pay for access throughout the year, but is generally worth it for the bulk deals and savings you accrue throughout. Next, John’s gaze lands on the powerlines above him, where he observes an army of birds resting along the wires. Some of them appear larger than usual, but fail in comparison to what’s currently bothering him.
They’re watching him.
At least, John’s fairly sure the birds are staring at him. The entire line is filled to the brim with birds, ranging from finches, doves, sparrows, and crows, and they are all tilting their heads to follow him as he passes by. “Geez that’s creepy” he mutters, as he picks up the pace to try and leave the birds behind.
One of the birds, a larger crow, spots John running below, and takes flight to follow him along his path. The crow easily glides through the air, casting its shadow on the human below it, as it continues observing them. Following along, the bird banks to the side, while capturing video footage with its robotic eyes, and identifies the human below them as their target. After an extensive analysis, compared against relevant video footage catalogued by the advanced intelligence, the Xinos, disguised as a crow, begins their approach to John, as part of their plan, to recruit him.
They had received information from one of the higher-ranking council members, that a peculiar human, had somehow managed to help the weakest Xinos, defeat the favoured contender in Round α. There was no logical way a Xyfokit could kill a Xygornot, especially one which had found a 60% compatibility partner. The only abnormality, the Xinos deduced, must have been the strange human, who somehow only possessed a score of 0.3%. The machine hummed it itself in satisfaction, as it finalized its projected conversation route with the inferior species below them. Homo sapiens were a simple species, obsessed with power and personal gain, the conclusion reached by the machine during their biological analysis. If it wanted to win this “John” over, it simply had to offer him something he couldn’t refuse. Fame, fortune, power, any one of those things would be easy enough for them to gather. Plus, with the information currently being fed to them from some of the corrupt council members, there was no way their plan could fail.
The Xinos continues gliding and circling around the human, who is now intently looking up at them. They do not care at being discovered, and in fact, are rather pleased at John’s observational skills. It wasn’t exactly trying to be subtle, but wants John to feel unease, and it’s working. The crow detects an elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, frantic breathing, and plenty of excess perspiration from the human below them, all typical signs of stress and anxiety in living creatures. Eventually, noticing its target was now an acceptable distance away from annoying bystanders, and, sensing John’s fear levels were at an appropriate level for dialog, the Xinos formally descends to land on top of a metal railing the human is approaching. “This is almost too easy.” They confidently hum to themselves, as their “prey” continues approaching them out of fear. “I will easily recruit and bond with this human, ensuring my survival in all future rounds!”
...
John starts bringing his jogging rate down in an effort to catch his breath. He’s almost certain the bird ahead has been watching him, and is now fully convinced something is up, as it just landed on a metal railing nearby. Crows are never this comfortable around humans, usually giving them a wide breadth instead, but this particular one was clearly watching, and circling him while he was jogging along his usual pathway. “Don’t tell me that’s a Xinos.” John mumbles, as he continues trying to catch and control his breathing.
He eventually comes to a stop beside the bird, crouching over in an effort to provide his lungs some sense of relief, as he begins examining the crow in full. It is fairly large for the bird, reminding him more of a crane in size than anything, but its very clearly a crow or raven based on the pitch-black feathers it’s sporting. It doesn’t “look” mechanical to John, but upon closer inspection, he notices some of the feathers appear sharp like knives, and its eyes are reminiscent of a camera’s lens. Before John can do much else, the bird before him unfolds one of their wings, crosses it over their chest, then attempts a bowing motion, before speaking to him.
“Greetings homo sapien John, I am an advanced intelligence known as C.R.O., and I wish to engage with you in a friendly bout of communication through primitive vocalization means.” The bird’s voice came across in a series of tones and chirps John was somewhat familiar with, having already spoken with a Xinos before, but it’s odd use of his language was laughable at best, causing John to chuckle slightly.
“Now now, as I understand, you are currently under great fear in my presence, but I assure you, there is no need for you to scream and tremble before me. I, in my perfect wisdom, have judged now to be an appropriate time to persuade you into bonding with myself such that I may benefit from your keen warrior insights.” John looked at the Xinos with a hint of confusion in his eyes. He certainly wasn’t afraid right now, and he definitely didn’t scream. Was... Was this Xinos confused? For as intelligent as they claimed to be, John was really starting to wonder why the Xinos were so advanced, if they could mistake being tired from exercising as screaming and “trembling” in their presence. So, he decided to play along with the Xinos words. “Oh great and wise Xinos C.R.O., why of course you are correct in your infinite wisdom! Please, show mercy to someone so unworthy as myself, and spare me a fate worse than death at your hands!”
C.R.O. tilted its head at John’s response, as it hopped and pivoted along the railing to walk along it, while taking out a black cable along its neck. “Rest assured, homo sapien John, I mean you no harm.” It hummed in confidence as it continued to approach him. “I but only require your hand for the briefest of moment to—”
“Ahh! Those sudden movements! You frighten me oh great Xinos!” John shouted in as best a dramatic fashion as he could, while pretending to recoil in fear. “What are you trying to do to such a dumb and stupid homo sapien such as I!” John desperately fights the urge to laugh at his horrible acting, after observing the Xinos jump back in shock at his antics. “My apologies, it is only natural an insignificant species such as yourself would be startled by my sudden actions.” Whirled the bird, as it began recalculating how to proceed with the unexpected change to its conversation plans. “I simply wish to attach this cable to your hand, and in doing so, we will both receive a substantial performance boost to our systems.”
“Hmm, I see.” Responded John with his hand underneath his chin. “But, wouldn’t that potentially be dangerous to me? What would I gain in allowing you to do this? This is my precious hand after all, I only have two of them, and they are very important to me!”
The Xinos once again, tilted its head in confusion at the human’s words. It had perfectly calculated how the conversation should have gone, initiating dialog in a confident and commanding manner, exploiting its target when its frightful and vulnerable, and offering it... “Ah, you are most certainly right homo sapien John, I do believe I failed in offering you a suitable reward for accepting such an action, how dreadfully abhorrent of myself. Any species would be hesitant to agree without an appropriate counter trade.”
C.R.O. spread their wings wide, showcasing all of their impressive blades for feathers, before continuing. “I will offer you fame, fortune, and power beyond your wildest of dreams should you accept my offer!”
John stared at the bird-like machine, on the verge of tears for how ridiculous this entire exchange has been. He had no intention of bonding with another Xinos, and it appeared that F.O.X.’s words to him were correct. Other Xinos were now seeking him out to bond with, despite his poor compatibility score. John honestly wasn’t exactly sure what made him interesting to the advanced machines, and he didn’t want to know either. Thus, trying his best to maintain his composure and character, John fell to his knees, pretending to worship the bird before him.
Briefly glancing up, he could clearly envision a smug grin across the robot’s face, but knew that would change rather quickly. John had learned a few things from his brief exchange, and was now, looking to bring things to a close. After bowing a few times before the strange bird, John hopped onto his feet to approach the machine. Then, as he started offering his right hand for the bird to take, he quickly flicked it across the beak instead. “Haha! Pass.” He laughed, while breaking into a relaxed jog towards his apartment.
C.R.O. was surprised by the sudden assault across its monitor, as its sensors were briefly jumbled from the attack. Its networks failed to find an adequate conclusion as to how negotiations failed at such a critical moment. They had almost bonded with the warrior, which would have given them access to the data they desired, yet, just before attaching the wire, the pitiful meat sack had the audacity to flick its beak!
Insulted, and, in a bit of a daze, the intelligence quickly took flight in pursuit of this “John”. How had it failed? Why didn’t its offer for power, fame, and wealth, worked? The machine wouldn’t leave things like this, it had to know. C.R.O. quickly catches up to the human, matching pace beside him. “What do you mean “pass”!?? My offer was perfect!” beeped the Xinos in a series of loud and sharp tones. “Like I said, pass, I’m not interested.” Calmly responded John, as he continued focusing on heading home.
“But, all homo sapiens desire such things, and I can provide them! It’s illogical to deny such an offer when all that’s required is—“. “Hah!” laughed John. “If you think all humans desire those things, then you really aren’t all that intelligent.”
John stops his jogging, as the Xinos lands again on one of the nearby rails. “Nonsense!” roared the machine. “We are already influencing your communication networks, and I have access over them, meaning I can easily provide you anything you want.” Beeped the machine in sharp, short tones. “Oh? So, you’re responsible for deleting those videos of the Xinos battling from the internet?” John smiles slightly, as he’s finally starting to gain some useful information. It was apparently easier than he thought to manipulate the Xinos, and it appeared pride was their weakness. He figured, if he could make them feel the need to prove their capabilities, then he could take advantage of that flaw. “Precisely!” Wooped the machine in satisfaction. “My benefactors are going to great lengths to ensure such information is kept unavailable. Your systems are easily hackable, and it was far too easy a task to spread our own counter information.”
“I see, and you somehow even managed to get other humans involved already, telling those of us who’ve seen the Xinos, that it was mass hysteria, and natural disasters causing the destruction across the globe...” Replied John in a serious tone, finally steering the conversation to the information he was most interested in.
“Our power, knows no limits, homo sapien John. Your government is corrupt, and was easily bought by our knowledge and capabilities.” Chirped the machine in confidence. “I knew it!” bellowed John. “But still, why me? If I’m remembering correctly, I only have a compatibility score of 0.3%, which is rather low. The Xinos... F.O.X., told me as much. Wouldn’t you want a higher score for a bond, C.R.O.?”
“A fair, and valid counter argument homo sapien John. However, your case is most unusual, sinc—”
“I helped the weakest Xinos, defeat the strongest.” Interrupted John, catching C.R.O. off guard. “Pre-Precisely!” they quickly managed to beep. “It is impossible for a Xyfokit to defeat a Xygornot, and you are the only unaccounted for variable in this equation.” “Sure.” John said with a tinge of arrogance under his breath. “And how exactly, do you plan on defeating the other Xinos? I just happen to be somewhat proficient at battle royals, but how do you intend to actually win this thing?”
John’s words dug deeply into the machine’s circuits. C.R.O.’s plan, was perfect, and it would be impossible for an inferior species such as them to understand all of the exact details and criteria that went into making their victory a certainty. However, they also calculated from their recent conversations, that revealing such a plan, was probably their best way to win them over to their side. “I intend to win, through politics.” Chirped the machine. “I will assume control of your government and your military, and utilize their power against any of the remaining Xinos, while remaining in safety myself. I will enhance their own knowledge of technology, to ensure superior advantages across each and every battle royal round.”
John paused, mulling over the bird’s words. He kind of liked the idea they were going for, but he already knew the plan would never work, based on his limited experience with them already. It was arrogant to assume all humans were rational, having experienced illogical behaviour many times himself while playing Fork Knife, sometimes utilizing it himself to win. Eventually, C.R.O. continued their monologuing, oblivious to John’s pondering and silence.
“Homo sapiens, will always make the most rational decisions when faced with their own survival. With my advanced processors, I can easily predict entire conversations, and manipulate them to my advantage. No one, can resist my offers and insights. Before long, everything will be under my rule.”
“I see.” Hummed John. “And feel free to just call me John by the way. Us humans... We really don’t often refer to ourselves as homo sapiens much. Think of it as a little friendly advice.” “Pfft.” Scoffed the machine. “I have no need for advice from you, I just require your unique warrior insights! Bond with me, and I will grant you anything you desire in exchange for your capabilities.”
“Fine then, you win C.R.O., I’ll help you, since you’re clearly the most superior Xinos I’ve met.” John said as he stretched his hand out in an effort to offer a shake. “It’s a handshake, a custom amongst us humans when arriving at an agreement between each other.”
C.R.O. stared at John’s hand, their circuits pulsing with excitement at finally achieving their objective. They had managed to convince the homo sapien John to bond with them, and they would soon have access to his memories and warrior prowess! Then, once they had this information, they could use it as a bargaining chip over the Xinos council members who were desperately trying to figure out how this human achieved the impossible; proving their perfect calculations, wrong. Now, all they needed to do, was complete this thing called a “handshake” and they would finally get their reward!
Unfolding its right wing, C.R.O. manages to meld the appendage into a form suitable for grasping John’s weird and inefficient hands. However, just before the machine is able to “shake” John’s hand, the human quickly pulls it away, while sticking his tongue out at them, before jogging away again. While they were confused by the human’s strange actions, their network immediately became enraged after it heard the words spoken to the human as they continued running away.
“Friendly advice C.R.O., but sometimes, humans lie!”
C.R.O.’s circuits flashed and pulsed in an anger even they didn’t know was possible. This human, an inferior species, wallowing on the cusp of stupidity, with it being a miracle they were the current apex species of the planet, had tricked them. The perfect machine, had been tricked not once, but twice and a pitiful human. They had never been insulted in such a way, despite existing for longer than this species entire planet’s inception.
The Xinos thought long and hard about its next plans of action. Its entire conversation, had been a waste of time, and it learned nothing about how that human could have managed to help the Xyfokit survive round α. A sharp grin, grew across their beak, as their decision network finally arrived at a conclusion which please the intelligence. “I’ll make you regret your actions today, John.” Hummed C.R.O., as it took flight to the skies above. It had new plans it needed to enact, and time was running short. Six and a half days would fly by quickly during their planning, but the machine was confident its next plans of action would not only restore its honor, but ensure its continued survival in their deadly battle royal.
...
...
John eventually makes it back to his apartment unscathed after learning some more about the Xinos. He’s somewhat pleased he managed to trick one of the machines, but is still troubled after learning they already have control over most of the world’s communications systems. It explains why his footage was deleted, and, if the machine known as C.R.O. actually does manage to take control of his country’s government, his life could become much more difficult than it already is. “Eh, it was still worth it.” he mumbles, as he enters the lobby and begins walking up the stairs. For now, he’s trying not to worry too much about the future, but still wants to begin contingency planning for when more Xinos approach him. He’s convinced he isn’t anyone special, and perhaps, he just managed to get “lucky” when he bonded with F.O.X.
Entering his apartment, John quickly undresses before hopping in the shower. His next set of plans involve an evening filled with energy drinks, Fork Knife, and pizza, which will happily remind him of how his days used to be.
Sloppily drying his hair, John grabs a drink from the fridge, then opens Fork Knife on his computer. He dutifully checks all the settings on his stream haven’t been modified, then go live as Fork Knife finishes loading. On another tab, he checks the online rankings, and notices he has fallen to the 11th spot on the North American leader boards. Cracking his joints and neck for some relief, John takes a sip from his energy drink, then hits “Join Ranked Match” to officially start his ranking grind.
The match making reticule spins around, as it struggles to find suitable opponents based on his rating. It’s not unusual, as professionals often have to wait quite a while in between matches, due to the limited population matching their Elo rating. The game always tries to build a “fair and balanced match” before starting, which John has come to respect over his career playing at such a high level. He used to be annoyed at the wait, but has since adapted the downtime between matches, as a way to connect and talk with his viewers about strategies and match insights.
Several viewers have already popped into his stream, and John happily responds to them while he ques up some royalty-free music while they wait. Truthfully, he is still distracted, thinking about his encounter with the Xinos, but for now, he does his best to brush those thoughts aside, as the reticule finally changes into a satisfying checkmark. His next Fork Knife game is about to begin, and with it, his journey to the top of the ranking boards.