001: Technocrat
He watches her trade breath and blood for wires and code.
CAN OUR SOULS LIVE ON IN ROBOTS?
Dr. Renegade has done the impossible—he's unlocked the key to eternal life. With a simple DNA sample and a brain chip transfer, anyone can be resurrected: their mind, their memories, their very essence—preserved forever. But there's one problem: his closest ally in the project confesses all of it is a sham. If that’s true, and he hasn't conquered death, what did he invite in? As secrets unravel, two men are thrust into a desperate search for answers, uncovering a deception more terrifying than they ever imagined.
DISCOVER THE TRUTH. CONTINUE READING NOW.
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 001
“What you see are not bodies made of flesh and bone. You won’t find any blood in them. What you will find under these skins are wires and steel. Yet, on the surface, they do appear just like anyone else, don’t they? And that’s what’s so incredible.”
Chaos. That’s the only word to describe it. The room goes into absolute hysteria. Wick tries to remain still, but people from every direction jostle him roughly in their frantic search for an escape route. It’s hard to make out anything. All he hears is a loud, panic-induced white noise.
The space is dim and long. The walls are dark and stony. There are no windows. It is as if he is in the midst of a mosh-pit that is sweeping him under its feet, all within a low-ceilinged nightclub — except that it’s not a club. Wick is not sure where he is, but this is a familiar scene for him. He has been here many times before. Not only is he in the same place, but the same event keeps happening. It plays over and over again. All he remembers are the teardrop tattoos etched into the back of people’s necks, the hallway, the mayhem. Then, he wakes up.
He always wakes up at the same spot. Was it a dream? A prophecy? Wick spreads his hands over his comforter to ground himself in reality. It’s soft and reassuring. There is a warm body beside him: Alexa, his companion. She is still fast asleep. Her body slowly rises and falls to the rhythm of her measured heartbeat.
Wick places a finger on her cheek and feels her soft skin. He stares at her long, black lashes that are spotlit from the array of light spilling through the bay window. A minute passes, then he turns his gaze to city. The sky is also asleep, but the buildings are awake. The city never rests. Wick glances at the clock on the bedside table. It’s too early. He sits up, gathers a large breath, and waits. This is what he does after the dream. He can never fall back to sleep.
“How long have you been up?” a voice says softly. Wick looks down at Alexa to see her eyes still shut. Her head is submerged in her cotton-cloud pillow. He strokes her dark, straight hair, causing her lip to curl. She likes that. “Don’t tell me,” she declares, her eyes still closed. Wick feels the peach fuzz on her face, the warmth of her skin.
The sun from the bay window finally pierces Alexa through her eyelids, making her squirm. Knowing that there is no use in fighting it, she finally sits up — finding a shaded spot in the large bed — and opens her eyes. She and Wick exchange a long stare. Her hazelnut eyes have a hint of green around the center, creating a glow-like illusion.
“Four hours,” Wick says.
Alexa pouts with great exaggeration. “Uh! I was gonna guess.”
“You’re taking too long,” he tells her.
“You’re never patient.”
“I’m always patient.”
“It’s not like we don’t have time…What time is it, anyway?”
“We have three hours. Don’t worry.”
Alexa straightens up, pauses momentarily, then darts out from the comforter. “I have to take a shower! Do my hair. You know, things girls do.”
Wick repositions himself in the bed. “And I’m going to do what boys do.” He scratches his head carelessly.
The bathroom door shuts behind Alexa as he looks in her direction. Then, Wick fixes his eyes out the window again. It’s bright now. The sun is reflecting off the glassy skyscrapers. It’s hard to tell from this view that he is fifty stories high.
He stands up and motions toward the glass, craning his neck to see how tall the building facing him is. It must be at least double the height of his apartment complex.
After this, Wick scratches his stomach as he shuffles into the tall kitchen. The room shares its space with a palatial living area, both of which are lit up from the shimmering buildings beyond that panoramic glass wall.
He takes a pan from the cabinet, cracks eggs, and simmers slabs of bacon. The aroma and sizzle attract Alexa’s presence. The door to the bedroom slides open, and she struts in hungrily. She fixes her damp hair into a bun as she rises on her toes to kiss Wick.
“Haven’t done that yet today,” she says with a smile. “Sorry.”
“You owe me double, then.”
After a carefree roll of the eyes, she lifts herself on her toes again and kisses him for a second time. But this time, Wick presses in. Alexa lets her arms rest at her side, making her hair fall to her shoulders. There is a tenderness between them.
Their lips part only an inch before Wick closes the gap for yet another kiss, making Alexa laugh. “And that’s for leaving me,” he says.
“I’m not leaving you,” she corrects him as she grabs a plate for herself.
Wick leans back on the counter and watches Alexa at the stove. “For 72 hours you are.”
She examines how many pieces of bacon to take. “And then I’ll never leave you again,” she says, after which, she looks back and blows him a kiss.
He creeps up behind Alexa and wraps his arms around her. “It’s still 24 hours,” he whispers to her.
“You could do it, too, you know,” she tells him softly.
“It’s expensive,” he says.
“They doing mine for free.” She scoops one omelet from the pan.
“Exactly.”
Her plate remains tightly gripped as she spins herself around. “Exactly,” she echoes. “You just need to apply for the assist.” Alexa, then, pulls herself away and walks over to a cushioned stool. The plate clacks delicately on the countertop.
There is silence as she takes her first bite. Her eyes dart up to see Wick. His own are fixed elsewhere. “Just do it,” she mumbles through the food in her mouth. “Nearly 50% of Penumbra has gone through the transfer by now. The Elites have been assisting everybody.” She finishes chewing and swallows hard. “Plus, it’s safe.”
Wick leans over the counter opposite Alexa. “I’ll just wait for Gen 7.”
“You can always move over to a new model later.”
He straightens up and walks to the stove, indicating he is ready to move on to other conversation. Wick picks out the remaining chunks of bacon and slides the last two omelets on his plate.
“I really wish we could transfer together,” she says to his back. “At the same time, you know?”
“The pre-process itself takes three months, Alexa. It’s too late now.” The hot pan slips from Wick’s hand and falls on his foot. He kicks it away angrily.
Alexa immediately rises from her seat. “Are you okay?” she asks as she rushes to look at his foot. “Didn’t that hurt?”
“Maybe a little,” he says as she examines it. “You don’t need to do that. Just stubbed my toe.”
“I’d be sobbing,” she says. “A man of steel you are.” Then, she rises to her feet. “My man of steel.”
“And my wimpy, little girl.”
She smacks his chest. “Hey. I never implied that I’m a wimp. I’m just saying I’d…cry…a lot…if a searing hot pan landed on my foot.”
“Fine. I’m your man of steel, and you’re my woman of steel…that cries a lot.”
She takes Wick’s fork from his hand and points it at him. “Soon,” she adds. “In 72 hours.”
He looks down at his watch. “More like 77.”
“Whatever!” She says as she places his fork back onto his plate.
Alexa goes back to her seat and finishes her breakfast while Wick finds a kitchen rag and picks up the pan off the floor. The rest of the time in the kitchen is spent in silent company.
The streets of Penumbra whir with activity as Wick and Alexa beat their heels against the sidewalks. They walk alongside a school of other men, women, children, and even androids who sweep the boulevard with frenzy. It can be said the couple blends in well — with their fashionable appearance and hurried steps. They are, of course, the products of their time. And as such, there is nothing unusual about them that would attract stares. But today, unlike many who galavant among gentrified shops in search of something to do, these two move toward a particular destination: an appointment at Anima Corp.
The black-glassed tower sparkles in front of them with its artificial lights. The holographic name ripples against the building, ensuring no one — not even those miles off — mistakes its identity. The long pole that crowns the building pierces the sun that now shines above them all.
Its shadow engulfs them as they approach the burly entrance doors. Despite its sheer opulence, excitement enwraps Alexa — even Wick to a degree. What they have seen only on screen they are now about to step inside for themselves.
Brawny androids guard the threshold. One holds out its hand to stop them. As if instinctively, the two hold up their arms. Their watch faces turn from telling time to displaying some code. The android scans both of them successfully.
“Welcome, Alexa. Welcome, Wick,” the android says. Its voice is incredibly human-like. It makes Wick wonder if there is life inside it. “When you enter, you will find to your left a door that leads to your appointment. Please sign in there.”
Before letting them through, the other android hands over two pairs of glasses to Wick. “Wear these inside,” they tell him. He and Alexa put them on, gesture a nod of thanks to the androids, then step across the threshold.
Upon entry, a bold white text appears in midair, welcoming each of them by name. Wick looks over his glasses and realizes the strange augmentation is happening through the lenses. What he sees must be unique to his own glasses. There are dozens of other men and women with the same glasses on, scattered throughout the rotunda, following their own augmented reality.
The floor suddenly comes alive through his glasses. Arrows appear, showing them the way to go. Alexa glances at Wick with a gleeful smile, and they both follow the animated symbols.
The androids were correct. Their destination is to the left. The word TRANSFER hovers in augmented light above the door. They approach it, waiting for it to open, but it doesn’t. Wick lowers his glasses a second time. In reality, there is no door at all — only a doorway.
“Do we just walk through it?” Alexa asks Wick.
He shrugs, then removes his glasses altogether. He stares down a corridor in a different direction. Immediately, a voice booms down from above. “Glasses are required within the visitor center of the building. Keep glasses fastened at all times.”
But Wick hesitates. There is another doorway. Through it stand several women, all of whom are holding small children. “Glasses on please,” the voice says again. There is a clear tension in its artificial voice. He listens to its this time.
With the glasses on, that doorway disappears. Through the augmentation, there is only a wall that seamlessly blends in with the rest.
“What do you think is happening down there?” Wick asks Alexa.
She turns her head only to see what the glasses reveal. “What do you mean?”
“Those women with those children…”
“What children?”
“Through the doorway,” Wick tells her.
“There’s only a wall,” Alexa says.
“Just take your glasses off,” Wick says.
“Didn’t you hear? They said not to.”
“Just for a second.”
“And get escorted out? No thanks.”
“Just look over them, Alexa.”
Instead, she turns her head back to the false door in front of her.
“Open, please,” she says to it.
The door does nothing.
With great reluctance, Wick pulls his eyes away from the artificial wall and turns his attention to the helping Alexa.
“Maybe we just walk through it,” he suggests. “It’s not real, after all.”
She grabs his hand, and they slowly creep up to the door. When they are only a few feet from it, it vanishes to reveal what has been there the whole time — the doorway. Alexa sighs a breath of relief. “That was easier than I thought.”
The two keep their hands locked and step forward. The room is empty. They were expecting to walk into a waiting room. Instead, a young woman appears, as if from thin air, in front of them.
“Oh, good morning!” the woman says cheerfully. Her voice is passed through miniature speakers within the frames. “Welcome to Anima Corp. You’ve successfully arrived at the Transfer Center. My name is Eve.” She looks down at her tablet. “I see that Alexa has an appointment scheduled with us. Am I mistaken, or is Wick just accompanying?”
Alexa gives Wick that look. “Well, I’ve been trying—
“Just accompanying,” Wick tells the woman.
“Thank you for clarifying,” Eve says. “For your information, the Anima Assist Program is currently in effect. Should you decide to transfer in the future, please know that all you need to do is apply. It’s that easy.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Alexa tells her.
“Well, Wick,” Eve says with a smile, “during our short tour, you will learn about the fascinating advancements we have made with our Anima Generation 6 model. And in three days’ time — once you see the new and improved Alexa for yourself — or, when you find no difference in her whatsoever — we are absolutely certain you will soon follow in her footsteps…But I am getting ahead of myself.” She giggles softly. “Follow me, you two. Let’s get started.”
Wick grips Alexa’s hand as they trail behind the augmented Eve. A door in front of them slides open, and they walk down a short corridor before stepping into a sizable, darkened elevator. Once the door seals, a spotlight from above beams down on the three of them.
“It’s probably best if we start at the beginning,” says Eve. “For that, I have a very special guest to introduce to you.”
A man fades in like a ghost beside Eve. His hair is streaked with black, grey, and white, all of which are slicked back. Lines stretch across his forehead and eyes. His face is familiar to both Wick and Alexa — they’ve seen him on screens.
“I’m Dr. Renegade,” the man says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alexa. Wick.” He nods to both of them. “I’ve come to give you a little history of Anima Corp.”
A holographic scene appears on a three-dimensional screen in front of them. The hologram reveals a black-and-white aerial view of Penumbra. A black building looms above the rest.
“This is where we are.” Renegade points to it. “But this building hasn’t always housed Anima Corp. In fact, this sweeping tower has been completely vacant for most of Penumbra’s existence. That’s right, for nearly 300 years, the city’s centerpiece sat awaiting a purpose. Although, it was never truly abandoned. The Elites — the ones who built this magnificent city — intended from the beginning that one day, life would manifest inside its walls. To lead the city and world to its unending future. And I’m happy to say that in our day, life is indeed manifest here — quite literally.”
The monochromatic cityscape fades to black. “In the year 293, I founded what was then simply known as The Anima Project.” Renegade starts to pace within the wide, spotlit floor. “There was a problem, you see. A common problem that I observed in our species. It was problem that existed before you and I were ever around. It is a problem that still plagues mankind today. And if it were not for The Anima Project, this problem would go on, perhaps forever. That problem? Mortality.”
Pale, digital bodies begin to fade in around the group. Two. Five. Ten. Each one floats ominously around them. Wick and Alexa’s eyes widen. These aren’t just images of typical bodies. They are images of the dead.
“Take a good look,” Renegade tells them. “This is the result after a life is spent: death. Oblivion. These realities await all people. Yes, even you.”
Two more bodies fade in. Wick feels Alexa’s hand seize his. She’s shaking. These eyes are open and still as they look blankly into the distance. Those still and limp bodies are holographic replicas of themselves.
“It’s a shame that our bodies fail us. Why is this the case? What have we done to expect such an outcome?” The grotesque figures fade out as Renegade begins to pace again. “What I’ve learned is that this is an anomaly. Yes, it’s a common anomaly. But it is an anomaly nonetheless. An oddity. Something abnormal.
“You see, the human species — indeed, life itself — is meant to thrive. We witness it especially when life is first produced. The stages of growth. The yearning for more. Yet, over the course of time, life dies out. The reason for man’s decline is not a mystery, however. Our bodies naturally decay. They simply do not have the resources in themselves to sustain energy…But what if our bodies were given those capabilities? What if we could live in bodies that could last, say, a thousand years? What if we could live forever?” Renegade pauses on that final word and stares into Wick and Alexa’s eyes. “This is where The Anima Project takes shape.”
A vertical beam of light pierces the darkness. At first, the sheer contrast blinds them. After a moment, the scene comes into focus. A vast warehouse is revealed now. Wick looks over his glasses to see if the scene is real. It is.
Renegade and Eve escort Wick and Alexa out from the dark, tall room they were in onto a metal balcony overlooking countless rows of humans standing at attention.
“We have one simple goal here at Anima Corp,” Renegade says. “Immortality.”
Alexa feels her breath escape her. Wick’s eyes are fixed on the scene before him. They cannot look away.
“What you see are not bodies made of flesh and bone,” Renegade continues. “You won’t find any blood in them. What you will find under these skins are wires and steel. Yet, on the surface, they do appear just like anyone else, don’t they? And that’s what’s so incredible.” Renegade steps in front of their view. “In 293, Anima Corp was founded. In the year 311 — 18 years after the project first began — there was a breakthrough. The breakthrough. When our minds and technological bodies became harmoniously one. All our years of efforts suddenly had meaning now. And life itself — well…it could now strive on.”
Renegade clasps his hands together and breathes in deeply. “For the past 49 years, I and those at Anima Corp have labored tirelessly to advance the very ontology of mankind. And over the past six iterations of the Anima models, the line between man and machine has essentially been erased. Death is a thing of the past — for those who make the simple and easy choice to transfer…”
Renegade’s grey eyes pierce Wick.
“Thank you, Dr. Renegade,” Eve says as the holographic man fades away. With a smile, she directs her next words to the couple. “While you probably already knew some of that history, it is such a joy to get to hear it from the man himself, isn’t it? Dr. Renegade has done so much for our city. For us. For you, Alexa.” Alexa reflects a gentle smile back at Eve. “Why don’t you follow me? There are a few other things to show you two.”
Alexa follows Eve along the balcony to a darkened corridor. Wick, on the other hand, stands near the rail. He looks out onto the sea of motionless bodies, trying to find at least one out of line. It’s impossible.
“Keep up!” Eve says to Wick from afar. Alexa waves her hand at him to come. Wick’s feet jerk, unsure of whether they should move. After a moment, though, they make their way toward the corridor.
“Why are they so still?” Wick asks Eve as they enter the dim-lit hallway.
“They are in the process of transferring,” Eve tells him plainly.
The left wall of the hallway is made of glass. What lies beyond it is a shaft paralleling their own. It brightens just as they step onto a conveyer belt. Eve directs them to face the glass. What they notice immediately is a digital figure facing them on the opposite side. Alexa gasps. It’s her. This holographic replica hovers above the floor, following them as if it, too, were on a conveyer belt.
“What you’re seeing here is an augmentation,” Eve assures them. “You’ll notice she looks just like you, Alexa. That’s not coincidental. She’s going to help me show you the unique features of the new Anima model: Gen 6, so you can understand what you will soon become. Now, where do you start…? Oh!” Eve bounces on her toes. “Let’s start with the exterior.
“Of course, skin was unveiled in Gen 2. But since then, each iteration has become incredibly more akin to the natural human epidermis. In Gen 6, it now feels like organic skin — and it also has the ability to tan!”
The digital Alexa behind the glass begins to peel back its synthetic shell.
“Under the skin,” Eve continues, “you’ll find the ‘bones’ to be made of the highest quality, lab-engineered alloy. Because of this, the animas are not only lighter and more resistant to injury, but the skeleton itself is able to extend to mimic biological growth. With the SentiaChip already collecting data from your brain, and with the DNA sample you will provide upon conclusion of this tour, your Gen 6 model has everything it needs to know how you would age over time. Of course, not all people want to age, and so you can mature to a designated point or disable that feature altogether.”
The holographic head splits apart like a diagram.
“More innovations from this model can be found within what we call the anima’s ‘hive-mind’. Perhaps everyone’s favorite addition is its ability to interact with the data from your SentiaChip to simulate dreams. And of course, a sense of fear and pain have been included in small doses. At first, you may wonder why, but Dr. Renegade and others here at Anima Corp found that these primal human instincts help us authentically interact with our world. But don’t you worry, these often-negative sensations are significantly minimal in comparison to the natural body.”
The layers stripped from the augmented Alexa return to seamlessly recreate her. Then, it disappears, and the lights from the shaft go dark. The hallway lights finally fade up.
“The transfer, Alexa, is simple. It consists of four processes: submersion, extraction, recreation, and resurrection. After this, you will head through those doors at the end of the hall. Inside, you’ll be directed to lie on the reclining chair and be prompted to drink a six ounce cup of water. Within a mere sixty-seconds after that, you will undergo submersion. It’ll be just like falling asleep — except quicker. From there, your body will be taken for DNA sampling and the extraction of your SentiaChip. Then, your sample and chip will be handed over to what we like to call the Recreationists. They will ensure that your anima model is free of any deficiencies. Afterwards, your model will be lined up in that warehouse we just came from. That is when the data from your brain chip will be uploaded. Once complete, you’ll be fully resurrected. Same mind. New body.”
Eve smiles on the last word. Alexa grins back as she holds Wick’s hand.
“So,” Alexa asks, “Does that mean the tour’s over?”
“That’s right,” Eve says. “All that’s left is to say farewell.”
Alexa feels Wick’s grip tighten immediately. They turn to face each other. He looks into her bright eyes, pets her warm cheek, and kisses her softly.
“It’s not really goodbye, Wick,” Eve says, ruining the moment.
“Just 72 hours,” Alexa whispers to him.
“72 hours,” he repeats. “Not a minute more.”
“Then get here early,” Alexa says before planting a last, quick kiss on the lips.
Eve stretches out an arm toward the door. It’s the one that leads to the submersion chair.
Wick reaches out his own arm, so that he can still hold her hand as long as he can. But that moment is torn apart when they are forced to disconnect because she has walked too far away from him.
Alexa evaporates through the door with Eve following, prompting Wick to peer over his glasses. Apparently, there was no door to begin with, but now Alexa is gone even in reality. He stands alone, silently counting down the minutes.
Hi there! I’m A.T. Lischak, the architect behind the story of The Anima Project. The book is currently being drafted, which means over the course of the following year, all subscribers can expect:
Behind-the-Scenes Updates
Pre-Release Publication
Author QA Sessions
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