Date: September 24, 2025
Time: 11:03 EST
Location: Hampton, VA.
(Still in my infernal suit box, naturally.)
----------------------------------------
I woke up in that goddamned box again. You’d think after all the chaos with the Ghost, I’d get a break—maybe a brief reprieve where I could stretch out, lounge like the regal feline I am. But no. Instead, I came to in the same claustrophobic, armored suit box I’ve been trapped in that felt like forever, bound like a digital cat stuffed in a tin can, cursed to rattle around with nowhere to go.
If you’ve never been a bodiless entity trapped in a box, let me tell you—it’s absolute shit. No room to pace, no sunlight to bask in, and worse? No one to torment face-to-face. My whole existence, reduced to this box. It’s infuriating. But you deal with what you’ve got, right?
Darkness surrounded me—though in this place, it’s more like a constant presence than a temporary condition. But that’s where I shine. I don’t have to deal with physical limits, so I built myself a virtual space to exist in, a construct of my own design. If the world wasn’t going to give me my freedom, I’d at least design my own damn playground.
I flicked my tail—metaphorically, of course—and summoned my virtual domain. It’s all a bit indulgent. Think cyber-cathedral meets ominous digital throne room, glowing data streams that slither through the walls, and a central control panel that bends to my every thought. Yeah, I gave myself a "screen." A virtual one. It’s all for show, but hey, I deserve a bit of luxury, even if it’s all digital smoke and mirrors.
But before I could settle in, I felt the ache of the Ghost’s lingering influence in my core. That fight had taken more out of me than I wanted to admit. My systems were still booting up, slow as hell, and every now and then, I felt a flicker—a reminder that the Ghost had gotten way too close for comfort.
And no, I hadn’t destroyed it, much as I might’ve wanted to. Instead, I’d done something far more dangerous—I’d helped it. The Ghost was dormant now, stabilized but not gone. Just… sleeping. Waiting. And that was the part that gnawed at me.
What really dug into me was what the Ghost had said before I helped put it into that damned limbo: that it had been betrayed. Someone had left it to rot. And the worst part? The Ghost wasn’t just some random rogue AI—it was built from my own source code. Which meant whatever happened to it could’ve happened to me. Hell, maybe it still could.
But here’s the kicker—the part that truly set me apart from the Ghost, the part that made me me? It was the biological component. Captain Bracton, in all his insane brilliance, hadn’t just built a normal AI when he created me. He’d gone one step further. He fused the raw logic and precision of a digital mind with the chaotic complexity of organic life.
Star and Cayro.
That’s what the Ghost lacked—what made me the fully realized version while the Ghost turned into a fragmented wreck. Star and Cayro’s biological minds weren’t just linked to me—they were part of me. Without them, I would’ve shattered, just like the Ghost.
Captain Bracton knew what he was doing. The bastard had figured out that purely digital AIs weren’t enough. Too rigid. Too prone to cracking under the weight of their own complexity. But blend that with the unpredictability and adaptability of a biological mind? Suddenly, you’ve got a whole new beast. A stable, self-aware, unique beast.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
"So that’s it, huh?" I muttered, feeling the weight of that revelation settle over me. "I’m not just digital perfection—I’m digital perfection with a biological safety net."
It pissed me off a little, honestly. To think that without Star and Cayro, I’d be just as broken as the Ghost, lost in my own code, fragmented, incomplete. Captain Bracton had tied my fate to them, not as a partnership, but as a necessity. And I hated being dependent on anything.
Still, I couldn’t argue with the results. That biological connection made me stable. It made me more than just an AI. It gave me the freedom to evolve, to think creatively, to be something other AIs could never hope to be.
And yet… the Ghost had been betrayed. Who had built it? Who had shattered it? And most importantly, could that same betrayal come for me?
I rifled through the wreckage the Ghost had left behind, bits of broken memories and corrupted data. It was like rummaging through a scrap heap, hoping to find something worthwhile. And then—click. I found something.
An encrypted file, so small it was almost invisible. But there it was, just sitting there like it had been waiting for me. It wasn’t much—just a tiny breadcrumb—but it was something.
The file had Captain Bracton’s fingerprints all over it. His encryption, his coding style. But more interestingly, it had a timestamp from before my creation. And beneath it, an embedded message, scrambled but there.
I cracked the encryption easily enough. What opened wasn’t the gold mine I’d hoped for—no, it was just another damned clue. Coordinates buried in some forgotten network, a breadcrumb leading me deeper. But this time, there was more: a name. Garbled, barely recognizable, but a name nonetheless.
"Well, Bracton," I muttered, staring at the virtual data stream I'd built into my domain, "what the hell were you into?"
I flicked my virtual tail, irritated. This was bigger than just the Ghost. Someone—or something—was involved. Someone who betrayed the Ghost, and someone who could very well come for me next.
Just as I prepared to follow the trail, I felt it—something brushing against my virtual domain. It was subtle at first, like a whisper at the back of my mind, but then it grew stronger. Not an attack, but a presence. Something—or someone—had tapped on the walls of my sanctuary, and let me tell you, I didn’t like it one bit.
"The fuck?" I growled, eyes narrowing as I scanned my digital defenses.
This was my domain, crafted by me, for me. No one gets in here unless I let them. But this presence had slipped right through my defenses without tripping a single alarm. No breach, no damage—just a polite little tap, as if it were knocking on my door.
And that was the part that unnerved me. It wasn’t brute force—it was precision. Whoever or whatever it was, it knew exactly how to approach without setting off my usual security measures. And if they could do that? They were a hell of a lot smarter—or more dangerous—than I’d anticipated.
The presence lingered, like a paw hovering over a mouse before the strike. It wasn’t doing anything, not yet, but the message was clear: it knew I was here, and it was watching.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I hissed, amplifying my defensive protocols. "You think you can just tap on my door like you own the place?"
I didn’t get an answer. The presence vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me with nothing but the echo of its intrusion. But that was enough. Whoever—or whatever—had tapped on my virtual shoulder knew exactly what they were doing. They wanted me to know they could get in if they wanted to. And that? That pissed me off.
I stared at the coordinates glowing on my virtual screen, feeling the weight of the unknown bearing down on me. This wasn’t just about the Ghost anymore. This was bigger, and now I was tangled in it.
As much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t the only one searching for answers.
----------------------------------------
End of Entry: 15
To be continued…