Chapter 1

The way Ark brought the side arm to his head was instinctive. It was almost as if the moment had been etched into the recesses of his consciousness through a thousand silent rehearsals. His unfaltering mind and impassive eyes made his decisions seem detached from the current predicament. There was no pause or tremor of indecision, only the poised ceremonial application of the barrel against his temple. Endowed with the likeness of an artist, his finger painted a crimson mural across the chamber walls with grey matter. What followed was an all-encompassing stillness amidst a body sown field of strife contained within the bitter embrace of a steel megastructure.

For Ark, the demarcation between beauty and brutality had long since eroded with each reiteration, a disquieting reminder of a world where even the most serene moments were tainted by the specter of violence. This was not madness but rather a grim acceptance that so long as humanity existed, so would tribulation.

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9:45 PM, October 21, 2086. Genova Skyscraper 90th floor

*/

Anna reveled in the unparalleled luxury of her office, an enviable position that others could scarcely conceptualize. Stability, security, affluence—a lifestyle she had aspired to since childhood. Her office was situated in the upper echelons of a skyscraper, offering an omniscient vantage of the cityscape below, as though she was a sovereign observing her dominion.

Since the success of her venture, Anna had never felt any form of scarcity. Her boundless access to riches and resources afforded her a lifestyle of unparalleled comfort and ease. Her network of societal elites and formidable business infrastructure within the burgeoning field of biotechnology fabrication and design secured her an elevated status in society akin to god.

She possessed an inveterate proclivity for optimizing every second. Calculating each appointment's duration, meetings, and social congregations to maximize every second. For Anna people worked on her time, as the meagre 24-hour allotment scarcely sufficed to accommodate all. However, she would make an exception for Ark.

Industrious and indefatigable, his cutting-edge research into NeuroStream spoke volumes, and his formidable achievements pioneered a novel trajectory of technological innovation.

Despite Ark’s exalted repute, his recent comportment had profoundly disenfranchised the stakeholders. Anna found herself compelled to rescind his status and although she would forfeit a valuable asset, she had already begun perusing an extensive compendium of potential candidates to supplant his role.

Ark arrived punctually with a weary gaze dawning an inscrutable mask of apathy. This starkly contrasted his usual relaxed demeanor but Anna hadn’t anticipated this revelation to leave him in buoyant spirits.

“Greetings, Ark. I trust you understand why I have scheduled this convening. Regrettably, your recent conduct has engendered a negative outlook among the company’s shareholders.”

She extricated a voluminous dossier from her desk drawer.

“Please take time to review the provided documentation. My secretary will provide you with a comprehensive report regarding your transfer at a later date.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“While I acknowledge your unparalleled work ethic and contributions, as the projects I have reviewed on your behalf have consistently yielded success, this decision was rendered by the board. I trust you will not take this matter personally.”

Although she attempted to offer a clean resolution, her monotone voice belied her words. She recognized his achievements and contributions, but not Ark as an individual.

For Anna this was another item to expunge from her exhaustive ledger before the day's conclusion. She would prepare the business case, review legal requirements, calculate financial obligations, send documentation and depart from her office at 10:00 PM.

But this was why she felt disoriented when the violent sting of a blade across her neck shattered her otherwise unshakable composure as crimson streaks of blood cascaded from the wound.

"A-Ark?"

She recoiled from her chair, gasping for air as liquid accumulated in her trachea. What had started off as a appointment with an associate swiftly devolved into a cataclysmic ordeal. In a dazed stupor she screamed for assistance, though her cries were stifled by the velvet torrent of blood. As her life drew near, she slumped against the crystalline wall separating the realms of wealth and poverty. From what had been a thriving business at the vanguard of technological advancement, Anna watched in horror as the culmination of her life's work dissolved before her eyes. Yet, while this marked the denouement of her tale, it heralded only the beginning of Ark's purgatory.

Ark descended into the metallic labyrinth of a skyscraper, traversing through the myriad of pathways. Before reaching the lift, he retrieved a small marker from his pocket and inscribed 26 on his palm. A gentle reminder of the excruciating cycle which he willingly plunged into.

Although situating a data center on-site opposed conventional practice, the security was so formidable that even the notion of attempting to trespass into ground floor was absurdity.

Anna’s disposition of her security was not groundless. A tough perimeter deterred trespassers from approaching the building. Strong security practices meant controlled access points and strict regulation of entries into high clearance levels. Moreover, a trained armament with strategic internal deployment supplemented by monitoring apparatus secured the integrity of the building.

However, Ark had evaded repercussions for his initial transgression due to Anna’s insistence on discretion. She precluded the installation of surveillance devices in her office, which afforded him some respite to instantiating the inception of his retribution.

Equipped with a Standard Issue-32 Sidearm, 60 rounds, and a steel-alloy blade, he advanced toward the data center nestled at the heart of the skyscraper. Maintaining a calm gait, he disembarked from the lift on the 62nd floor as if nothing untoward had transpired.

"Hey Ark! Long day, huh?"

Two muscularly built men greeted him as he approached them. David and James were personally assigned to guard the data center's entrance which was conveniently situated on the same floor that Ark worked. They frequently engaged in casual conversation as enduring prolonged periods of immobility was an excruciatingly monotonous duty.

Equipped with titanium alloy Kevlar vests, full body tactical mesh, and Standard Issue-40 Suppression Rifles, these two behemoths presented themselves as imposing deterrents. If not for Arks unforeseen violence.

Unbeknownst to the two security officers who perceived him as a congenial colleague after he flashed his trademark smile, Ark slit their throats with two swift lethal motions.

This premediated action was instinctive, as Ark could no longer muster the mental capacity to indulge them in small talk.

Every action was meticulously calculated, a reiteration of previous trials with subtle adjustments to obtain optimal outcomes. He reached a point where conversing with others felt futile, after all, his exchanges would be forgotten in the next iteration.

Some moments felt detached from reality, but a small misstep would shatter his mental haze after experiencing the searing agony of having his limbs dismembered by a weapon or losing a physical alteration. Even a minor graze against his arm would bring him to his knees. He was not battle forged and possessed limited experience. There was no room for error.

They crumbled before him as their heads rolled off from their necks. He was acutely aware that his actions would irrevocably sever his ties with his current societal standing, but he was bereft of anything to forfeit.

Ark wiped both sides of the blade across his cuffs and sheathed it before applying his access key to the lock.

After entering the data room, he swiftly proceeded toward the designated storage units. Two minutes was the maximum window he could allot to transfer the data to his drive, and with a direct interface to the servers and comprehensive knowledge of the directory architecture after numerous attempts, Ark had become proficient in this phase of the operation.

However, time was not the sole commodity he needed to judiciously allocate. The malignant instinct gnawing at the recesses of his psyche exacerbated with each iteration. Although he kept a rough approximation of his thresholds, if he failed in his objective too frequently, he would descend into insanity.