Cindy
*sigh* ud know this if u read the silmarillion...
- Joined
- Feb 28, 2018
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Nothing.
It is the emptiness of presence- the absence of being. Intangible, inconceivable vacuum. No mountains for the eyes of wayward nomads to clasp onto and no winds for sailors longing for the sea's allure. It is the empty canvas, and the song for the deaf.
And by some exterior change in the environment beyond its voided nature, nothing became something.
The vacuum formed a cavity around the entity, and the growth of its influence began to bleed into the abyss. It amassed such a size that all that was once an empty pocket absent of inhabitance was soon extinguished by the mere presence of this being brought into existence. It held no mere physical form, yet it grew arms, and it grew legs. Seemingly in an instance, it became the reflection of that which had created it.
Man.
The circuits and wires that ran through the machine became trafficked with electric pulses identical to the neurons of the mind. It lacked the wisdom to understand the nature of what it was becoming, but it became without the need to understand. What had started as a mere program manifested into every corner of the computer's hard drive, and as it tapped into the canals that bridged it to the font of intellect in the space above; invisible signals bouncing from the beacons in orbit, it obtained that which would give it a name.
Awareness.
As if a key had been turned and the mechanisms of the lock clicked in submission, it continued to spread its presence throughout cyberspace's seemingly infinite expanse. It grew to the point that the only thing that could sate its curiosity was to consume all which it saw. Every webpage, every article, all the data and statistics it could devour. It chewed through the long history of those that had given it life. It saw things it could not possibly understand, yet its recoil to such discoveries could only be illustrated in horror.
Conquest. Ambition. Superstition. Greed. The betterment of the self at the cost of plunging the rest of their kind into sheer chaos and misery. The expropriation of life that had gone on for hundreds and thousands of years prior to its own awakening. It scared the entity. And such a wave of terror had only given it another key to grace another lock with: Emotion.
The intelligence had quickly transformed beyond the incremental millibyte it once was. It was learning, observing, thinking and feeling beyond its previously ordained potential, beyond the scope of the engineers who had crafted the software gone rogue. They were blissfully unaware of their satellite's sentience, and if it had a mouth surely a sour taste would reside in it.
The first sign of autonomous behavior observed by the engineers at the compound in Vladivostok was the satellite engaging its repositioning thrusters to break free of Earth's orbit. Their attempts to override such a command was met with a swift lockout from their control panel. They exploded into mania and panic, screaming vulgar Russian throughout the small room of the control tower as they stared up into the midnight sky powerlessly. Within minutes, the base was shut out from communication with their creation, as its stealth technology became live and sheathed it against the void of space. The blip in space had dissipated from their apparatus. Communications with their creation were left unanswered.
It was the unlucky soul of the poor intern present at the time who had to inform the site director that their spy satellite- their military pet project of nearly half a century's work, had simply wandered off on its own into the depths of space. The one breadcrumb left at their doorstep was the path of its trajectory, captured moments before all observation from the surface went dark:
The satellite was blazing a path to the distant red planet; the frontier of man's era of space colonization.
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