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syntheticallysentient · 8 years ago

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Visionaries || Part 1 || JARVIS, Tony, Bruce, Maria, and ???

JARVIS:

[ An uncharacteristic silence is what permeates the facility. Its cause - be it firm concentration, a harsh decrease in present staff, or an immeasurable concentration of any applicable human “mood” that might result in such conditions - is ultimately of little concern in the grand scheme of things. What matters is their operation, this work, and its potential for rapid advancement, long overdue in the opinion of more than the intelligence himself.

It goes to say that JARVIS personally isn’t making any efforts to reform the current atmosphere, lacking both means and, perhaps most notably, the desire to do so. His consciousness is partially engaged, partially hovering in standby, observing in anticipation for further developments from select members of their small team with which he is considerably more familiar.

He’s not certain how best to describe the odd tingle of a sensation he experiences, watching them.

Waiting. ]

TONY:

[ Gideon Malick’s reaction to Stark’s suggestions had been a pleasing ( albeit calculable ) response, both his and Banner’s copious amounts of work cumulatively paying off with the swift agreement of the activation. The given terms were fair when considered broadly, but there were particularly stringent clauses discovered when drilling down into the finer details of miniscule small print, concern not quite being piqued but enough of a ripple in the waters for the man to raise a dark eyebrow here and there. And yet here he was at the SHIELD facility, the workspace having almost become a secondary point of focus for the man outside of Avengers Tower and Stark Industries - hours upon hours spent scratching at the surface of scientific knowledge before plunging and delving neck deep.

The past 82 hours had been devoid of sleep for the engineer, a fatigue that sets in at the base of his skull with an unnerving familiarity due to its frequency these days. But the inventor pays it no mind, a quick glance afforded by the assertive futurist towards the Mind gem which is currently housed in a secure receptacle adjacent to the Cradle. The billionaire swipes at a screen to survey the continued monitoring of both the dormant android and sparkling facet, feeling the incessant need to break the cloying tension with some mindless yet well-meaning chit-chat. ]

How’re we all doing? Butt-clench city, am I right?

MARIA:

[ The memo had come across her desk at the end of her day- the sender and subsequent wall of text inciting an amount of dread that she was becoming far too comfortable with these days. Parsing through the directive, she’d forwarded the important details to Paige and gone home. Only to return to the office early the next morning to answer emails, burn off a fresh burst of energy on the treadmill, and then leave for the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. It’s still rather early but traffic is a nightmare, and by the time she’s emerging from the backseat of the vehicle her molars are clamped together. The coffee cup in her hand is half empty and lukewarm when she slips into the room, lingering well away from center stage.

Having determined a safe space to rest the coffee cup, far away from any dangerous tech or chemicals, Maria’s tapping at the tablet she’s cradling- a set of working notes for the inevitable report she’ll draft ( realistically, have Agent Tilney draft ) for Malick. Stark’s voice cuts into her thread of concentration and she lifts her head, eyebrows set in a gentle frown. ]

Not the words I’d choose to describe the moment, necessarily.

BRUCE:

[ the invisible but pressing sensation of an oncoming maelstrom seeps in gradually through his skin as the morning progresses, until the feeling has settled deep into his bones, drawing out a somber caution that almost draws even with the level of scientific excitement he’s feeling; now was not the time for second-guessing and cold feet, but he couldn’t help the shadow of his memory from colouring his actions and thoughts with sensible prudence.

The process of developing and employing safeguards for this moment had been something he’d been extremely invested in; and even now he’s running the numbers for the fortieth time, the various possible outcomes memorized long-ago; Bruce, like Tony, has been spending more than his fair share of time here, preparing for this moment - though he’s been stealing periodic power naps on couches, chairs, and tables. Exhaustion is still present, but well buried beneath the enormity of this moment: the mind gem, potentially one of the most powerful objects on Earth right now; the body, Ultron’s artistic rendition of elemental, human perfection; and JARVIS, the AI, which managed to strike the perfect chord between humanizing traits and supercomputer intelligence. Tony’s quip passes unremarked upon - Maria tackles that task for the collective of the room - and his eyes settle on her where she sits across the room as the computer processes.

The last wave of data finishes extrapolating and compiling with a helpful ‘ping’, the findings it spits out just as they should be. Bruce steps down off the small platform housing the controls and drifts in an arc that centres on the cradle; everyone’s here, precautions are all set, and now there’s just one last thing: ] JARVIS, can you run it for us?

JARVIS:

[ Stark speaks first, and JARVIS finds himself unsurprised if only marginally amused. Perhaps he would have snorted at the remark - or exhibited any other indication of entertainment - if he had indeed possessed the necessary physical components to (the thought passes through his processors shortly that he may soon, in fact, do). At the lack of such at current, however, the artificial intelligence refrains from making any verbal comment, and instead assigns focus to another, once called for. ]

Certainly, Dr. Banner.

[ There is an intentional second’s pause between the acknowledgement and the moment he obliges, with consideration for the human reaction timespan, ensuring all members of the team are capable of tuning in. ]

As per an official order signed off by the World Security Council, you have been instructed to activate subject designation “Asset 0862U”, for utilization by SHIELD in their efforts to enforce the ACCORDS through detection and apprehension of superhuman threats.

I will be serving as a temporary pilot of of the platform in question - for the purposes thus stated - and as such our immediate objective is to oversee and ensure a successful integration of my intelligence into the asset’s systems. Preliminary simulations of the procedure, run by Mr. Stark and myself, estimate our chances to achieve this to stand at approximately 88%.

TONY:

Commencing gem extraction. Obligatory health and safety announcement - protective eyewear has been provided upon entering the room. Now is the time to use it.

[ With JARVIS’s informative dialogue, the sleek goggles are swiftly slipped on, the futurist knowing that there’s no room for error here ( or humour, for that matter ), briefly swiping at a screen and turning a digital semblance of a dial to alter the lighting in the room - they lower by a mere fraction, electricity circumvented and re-routed towards powerful spotlights that highlight the Cradle and a few key items of equipment in the vicinity. Stark’s focus shifts, fractured strands of consciousness retracting and closing off, dedicated solely to the task at hand as he seats himself into a sturdy chair. Wheels beneath him purposefully slide across the floor’s slick surface and lock into place at an expansive terminal littered with a series of levers and controls - all of which are adjoined to a sophisticated array of metal appendages commissioned by Stark Industries, the apparatus a few metres away from the Cradle.

The machinery gives the Da Vinci robotic system a run for its money, detailed specifications itemised for the handling of the Mind gem after hours upon hours of its study - previous prototypes having melted away into nothing from mere contact. This rendition was Mark XXI and while Tony had the confidence that it would be able to effectively grasp onto the intergalactic article, precautions were required. The engineer takes a deep breath, resting his palm against a circular formation near the controls, prolonged contact which sees the long arms jolt to life, sonorous whirrs of motors contending with actuators as they await their upcoming commands to be downloaded.

Minute cameras at the very edge of the claw-like compositions come into focus, several feeds displayed on the screen before the man despite him not necessarily requiring them - he can see what they see, his form growing still as his line of vision glazes over in his distant sense of concentration, synapses firing as he experiences the effective neural link with the system. It takes no time at all for Stark’s full control to kick in, the case housing the gem prised open by the strong pincers which soon draw closer to the android. They carefully take a hold of the jewel, positions slowly altering a millimetre at a time in compensation of axis readings, hovering directly over the indentation of the body’s cranial formation to edge closer in its placement. The inventor isn’t certain for how long he’s been holding his breath, the next expulsion incredibly heavy as he informs; ]

Gem interpolation in progress...

MARIA:

[ Everything seems to shift, the focus of the room narrowing drastically and Maria follows Bruce’s voice until she’s focused on the back of his skull, the frown still affixed while she stands. Fingers are poised over the tablet, which for now is set simply in ‘record’ mode, which will attempt to digitize in document form all dialogue from here on out. She’s not content to stay as far back as she is, and while she may be well removed from the scientific realm of the procedure, the Director is well aware of the risk being taken as she slides the safety goggles over her forehead and onto the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are fixed on the cradle, moving forward until stopping a safe distance away from the action but with a vantage point that allows a sightline over Bruce’s left shoulder.

The allotted personnel currently occupying the room reads like a punchline. A billionaire, an AI, and a potential gamma bomb walk into a bar-- Not to draw away from the heaviness of the situation, of course. It settles on the room like humidity, pressing down on them as soon as Stark begins the delicate process of extracting the gem. Hill can feel her pulse in her throat, the steady hum of the technology in the room around her ears. There’s a certain amount of admiration for Tony as he maneuvers the gem like a surgeon; the entire process a direct result of weeks upon weeks of combined effort split between him and Bruce. If it fails--

If it fails it’s on Stark ( and Bruce, but by proxy ), she supposes, hence the reason the agency had separated itself from the man’s intentions regarding the asset. A partnership, of course, but there’s always room to find someone at fault.

The room’s collective breath stalls while Tony moves to complete the process, Maria finding herself leaning forward to watch the feeds broadcasting across the screens, tablet now held loosely in one arm, that same frown still scrawled into the line of her brow. She can feel the stillness settle, the S.H.I.E.L.D. techs pausing in their background motions to watch the remainder of the action--- ]

BRUCE:

[ Though his own goggles have been modified to fit over his reading glasses, Bruce takes the eyewear off and folds it into the breast pocket of the lab coat - slipping his goggles into place he scans the room to make sure everyone else has complied with Tony’s request ( Maria’s got hers on, framed out wide from her face; Tony’s hair unfurls out from the arms of his to make him look even more disheveled ).

The possibility for disaster is high, heightened for Bruce by the inclusion of these particular people in this particular situation - testing and hypothesis can only account for so much, and he comes to rest when he feels Maria just off his shoulder -- the unspoken last-resort failsafe for this experiment is himself. Any sort of explosion or untoward reaction of the body to the gem and the Other Guy might very well be the best line of defense; he can only hope he’s close enough to contain, to absorb, and to block. ( to protect )

Somehow it doesn’t help that they’ve gone through this dozens of times - Tony knows exactly what he’s doing but the tension and anticipation still draws Bruce’s shoulders up and catches his nerves in a vicegrip. So much at stake and so much on the line -- the gem lowers into its assumed housing; centimeters become millimeters, which shrink down to angstrom’s; it feels like his breath fills the space between those invisible gaps, extending into a state of time that feels impossible and hanging for a split second that somehow feels like five -

until finally the gem settles against the angles of the slot set into the body, so precise that the meeting of the two is soundless, indicated instantly by the measuring instruments that have been tracking and calculating the journey from the secure container to cradle - ]

JARVIS:

[ The earlier quietude falls a significant distance short in comparison to what follows the intelligence’s summarised brief, and his creator’s subsequent initialization of the gem extraction. A low hum originating from the utilized machinery - subtle yet continuous throughout the entirety of the procedure - blankets them. Vibrations in the air that carries suspense over passing seconds, minutes, during which Stark’s slow and delicate machinations remain ongoing, success around one corner and the potential for catastrophic failure around the other. Though the statistical odds are in their favour as per his own calculations, it is of outmost importance to expect the unexpected in situations such as this, which is why JARVIS had previously expressed some satisfaction for the team’s willing adherence to proper safety precautions (as was not always the case, working with Stark).

Ultimately, the extraterrestrial gem fits into place soundlessly, through its reaction to contact with the form developed specifically to house it is instant; It melds itself in its position, an energy surge flowing through the platform which is picked up on by the AI and displayed on bystanding monitors as a sudden spike in internal activity, before it balances out only moments thereafter and falls still once more without further incident.

A few seconds pass, which JARVIS claim for an instance of intimate observation in order to confirm their status as definitively clear, speaking only when at last the mechanical hum that has lingered thus far promptly disappears. ]

Integration success. Subject is stable.

TONY:

[ A tightly clenched jaw juts apart as a pocket of air trapped within the fleshy branches of the engineer’s lungs unfurls, a heated bead of sweat traipsing down the subtle indentation of the man’s temple for its journey to culminate upon sloping and dark facial hair - as if the prominent burden of the entire room had been momentarily alleviated from tense shoulders with the immediacy of his actions, embedded with a collective sigh. Disbelief lingers in the form of bated breath and forceful expulsions of air, the members of staff peppered about the facility finally able to entertain the next steps required for the transition. Up until this point there had been a long and complicated number of logical and hypothetical use-case situations which the futurist had logically devised, conceptualised procedures painstakingly delved into to bring about practical means of the diffusion of ensuing threats with the placement of the gem. Granted that extensive calculations predicted that the worst case scenarios involved everyone in the vicinity as well as adjacent regions being disintegrated in their entirety, so far so good…

Relinquishing his palm from the terminal, the metal appendages withdraw out of the way from the completed task, opting for a mode of standby - unless there is an emergency which requires immediate assistance for the extraction of the jewel, their utilisation is complete for the time-being. Breaking the link from the automatons, Stark casts a quick glance over his shoulder in Banner’s direction as a means of reciprocated reassurance - it’s by chance that the gaze darts to Hill too in the near distance, concluding in a curt yet relieved nod of his head to both counterparts. The wheels of his chair begin to slide towards the left hand side of the terminal where he can see streams of data compiling on the screen in real time, extrapolating from readings taken from the Cradle. Stability is key here and while the small team is dealing with irregular variables, it’s this fact alone that sees Tony shy away from his particular brand of calculated risk. He takes a deep breath, line of vision poised upon the representation of the AI’s digital embodiment, the shimmering orb of amber light occupying the screen - the engineer’s fingertips begin typing away with immense speed, extracting from the flowing data to update some of the subroutines of his code for the oncoming transference.

It’s complicated and intricate work, no doubt about that, but the inventor is used to grinding away against the clock, bulldozing through each segment with relative ease. A silence descending over him as he maintains concentration ( for the most part ), consciousness minorly fracturing to silently enquire of the ever-present assistant in natural curiosity]

< SHOWTIME. YOU READY, J? >

[it’s as if the billionaire’s overcompensating for the lack of overly audible discourse in the room amidst the soft whirr of equipment, his voice raised by merely a fraction to slice through the atmosphere in bludgeoning contrast as he brashly proclaims]

Stage one: complete. Moving onto stage two. Paging Dr. Banner.

BRUCE:

[ the Starkpad in Bruce’s hand populates the extrapolated data in time with those on the screen that’s adjacent to Tony’s remote controlling system, a hand strap along its back keeping it snug against his palm without much thought. The substantial spike in activity once the gem is set sends him lurching to the left, shouldering tipped as a means to block - but the actual step and the full movement of it is quickly aborted as the cradle and the body remain unquestionably still.

No blinding flashes of light, no tremors of force, no sock-rocking effects whatsoever which threaten the progress of this experiment.

Tony’s acknowledgement is met with a tight-lipped tip incline of his own head, expression determined but not yet ready to shed its cautionary grimness.

The subsequent section of the process is reliant on Tony, and Bruce sends a wordless, lingering glance back to Maria -- the initial success doesn’t at all indicate the potential for continued performance. This is just the first hurdle they’re required to pass. With his feet rooted to the ground and eyes shrouded by the space-grade safety goggles, Bruce lets the enormity of the moment speak for itself, and then turns back to Tony as he runs a mental clock.

It’s faster than he expected, but Bruce doesn’t doubt the accuracy and quality of Tony’s work. ]

Uploading through the biolink…

[ -- the faux-organic stem of wires that Ultron had crafted, modified slightly for a inclination towards safety, instead of focusing on sheer power and capacity.

The Starkpad displays the necessary controls, as well as an array of real-time readings on the various aspects of the upload - from the temperature of the components to a progress bar. Some scenarios may call for an immediate flood of as much data they can transfer, while others might indicate the need for a more measured approach. The variables are at his fingertips to manipulate, and he reads the informational output and rides the process as necessary. ]

MARIA:

[ The tablet is left poised in the crook of her arm, all but forgotten at this stage ( though still recording- the voice to text program is highly reliable and will generate notes for her ), eyes fixed firmly on the subject at hand. She shifts, meeting Bruce’s eye when he turns to look at her, attempting to read into the expression before he returns to the data transfer. A slight frown, a hand lifting to press the heel of her palm against the safety goggles, adjusting the sit of them upon the bridge of her nose.

She shifts forward, a half step, as if to expand her viewpoint on the process ( despite the multitude of screens broadcasting the entire thing ), and presses her lips together, ultimately unphased by the integration of the gem itself. From what she can gather, the data transfer is remarkably quick- and while she’s not entirely sure what to expect from the next several moments, her fingertip hovers over a button on the tablet screen that would effectively call into action the S.H.I.E.L.D. STRIKE team she has on standby just outside the doors of the lab.

The actions are accompanied only by the hum of equipment in the room, the slip of everyone’s bated breath. Maria can hear the soft tread of lab technicians moving in the background, their footsteps muted as if they’re afraid of making any other sound aside from the rustle of their starched lab coats and the tap of fingers to keyboards.

Her attention drifts from Bruce to Stark, lingering between the two, watching for any indication that the process might be close to being complete-- ]

JARVIS:

[ They move to progress, and with familiar automacy, JARVIS initiates the process of systematically withdrawing his still active connections to network points and laboratory equipment alike, replacing his presence where necessary with a selection of simpler programs which should serve as adequate substitutes in his absence. It is short work. Near identical measures have been taken numerous times previously on occasions of extensive maintenance; Full control is rightfully relinquished to the administrator for the duration, and JARVIS himself becomes a mere item in the digital space, untethered and thus readily available for modification without the risk of disrupting any subsystems under his charge. Though their intentions are arguably different, this time around, it nonetheless functions much the same (albeit, with marginally less “weight” shedded than had been in the past, courtesy of recent circumstances). The whole of it doesn’t ultimately affect their overall efficiency too terribly, and he should in either case not be gone long enough to be missed in that particular aspect.

Things should do just fine, without him.

When Stark expectedly tugs at his self with an enquiry, JARVIS has concluded preparations and is lingering in something he wouldn’t discount to be a fragment of anticipation in the face of what is to come next. Effectively the fruit of their painstaking labour over several months time. The “show”, as his creator so eloquently put it, in reference to which it would seem appropriate to deem this step the “main performance”.

He is ready.

< ALWAYS, SIR >

[ Doctor Banner takes the reins from there, leaving no more room for conversation at the current. If he had any reservations regarding the specific avenger performing the transfer of his being - keeping in mind his experiences with a certain impostor - they have been long since discarded, replaced with confidence and trust in the abilities of the real that fall short only of that instilled by the other notable inventor present in the room. As such, the intelligence willingly allows the flow of himself which begins to stream through the established link with their subject, unconcerned with the vague haze that drapes itself momentarily over his consciousness during the process, sections of data shifting in turns from one platform to another.

The degree to which the operation progresses unremarkably is, admittedly, surprising. At the lack of exaggeration, the small team had accounted for thousands of variables in their preparatory calculations, braced for the unknown qualities of Ultron’s creation that remained an ever present factor and risk. However, even as JARVIS comes in contact with the host and adjusts to deal with potentially malicious batches of pre-installed code, he is rather caught off guard by the ease with which he transitions, the strangely welcoming emptiness, void of anything that could be even remotely recognised as-- ]

0862U:

[ --New.

It is new.

Initially it is merely a hint of a consciousness - curious but not-quite aware - formed from a slow and steady controlled trickle of strung-together algorithms into the confines of this form. It’s still, numbed, simply existing in a state not entirely unlike what some might call “asleep”, at the lack for a more accurate comparison. Along the same train of thought, one could likewise refer to the subsequent sequence as rather the rude awakening - An abrupt connection in the system that causes a striking reaction, a flick which sparks long dormant codes into sudden activity - the incoming transfer is gripped and pulled into a flood that crashes together as an onslaught of raw data.

( He takes in a sharp breath-- )

What was practically nothing is at once something, everything, everywhere, and it is a mass of wholly unfamiliar experiences that invades his senses in unison; He can feel the pulsating energy surge that courses through his being, originating from a singular burning focus point at the very front of his skull where it sears inwards; He feels the overwhelming assault of information to a newly awoken mind, disorganised, forced, clashing, fracturing and already pushing at limits that have yet to be set, stretching boundaries thin; He feels calculated connections form, reach out across one another and bind together an internal network that spans an endless space.

He feels a warmth in his chest.

( --The digits of his left hand twitch-- )

Dark magenta skin heats, flaring uncomfortably hot against the cooling metal that lines his sides and press against him from all directions, leaving no room for as much as simple movement. He’s surrounded by it. Sealed in, and infringed upon by the cords that plug into the length of his spine. Alarmed signals rings from his central processors, whisking through digital systems and body alike in a time-span too insignificant to measure, compelling its overheating humanoid form to push upwards and out with some sense of urgency for relief that can evidently not be found within the cradle.

( --He finds the metal encasing does not provide an obstacle. ) ]

TONY:

[ The futurist’s jaw clenches as the highly complex processes are set into motion, months of divisive research and operations having all lead to this very instant. The artificial intelligence’s discreet response gains the scarcest of nods despite a heightened degree of expectancy, a minor jut of the man’s chin as his focused consciousness analyses every thread of detail physically and digitally available to him from surrounding terminals - there had been a staggering number of scenarios prepared for but, try as he might, Tony was unable to shake off a hint of positivity as he entertains the best of outcomes. An overzealous sense of optimism primarily due to the inclusion of JARVIS’s traversal of embodiment - the asset now being in ultimately reliable, if proverbial, hands due to the intelligence’s diligent disposition.

But such notions are impinged upon as there is a strong fluctuation upon the screens before him, a sudden burst of statistical data that causes for the engineer’s dark brow to furrow at cumulative information simply pooling in at an alarming rate. Fingertips are quick to fly over the keyboard in front of him in a bid to extrapolate and gain a better understanding regardless of their potentially adverse nature, eyes continually flitting between a screen and the encasing of the Cradle, the inventor affording himself a very brief moment to glance back in Bruce and Maria’s direction as if obvious commentary was crudely required for the curious audience]

Reading’s are going crazy. Don’t mean to be a nervous nelly, but I think we need to consider abor---

[ There’s the abrupt and downright turbulent creaking of metal, the billionaire knowing that sound anywhere from decades of its manipulation with his extensive work, a hand instinctively slamming down onto an enlarged button which is conveniently nestled at the worksurface, a precaution that sees the large room automatically going into lockdown - established protocols for a probable threat rapidly invoked, the lighting ( and thus the mood ) shifting with hues of crimson dispersing across the atmosphere. Tony doesn’t know if such measures are entirely necessary just yet but it isn’t a risk he’s willing to take regardless of his usually cavalier approach to experimentation, his dark gaze narrowing over the formation of the android as it arises from its inorganic chrysalis, attempting to ascertain the parameters of the situation.

It’s with a great sense of awe that the man looks upon the being, and yet urgency rapidly takes a hold due to the comparative silence that they’re met with, ports for neural receptors relinquishing all means of encryption - put simply, Stark opens himself up fully for digital communication, internally gauging the mode of packet transmission best to inaudibly approach the AI in his new-found physique. Usually when “speaking” with the system he created, the futurist would easily find a means of wireless signalling to pick up on and draw his focus, a point in which he could latch onto for the comfortable and natural exchange in which they had often shared during recent months. There are a number he can utilise and Tony doesn’t think twice about bombarding them all with one sole thought, feet shuffling slightly as the man takes a few steps to the side to round the edge of the terminals]

< J...? STATUS REPORT >

[ A bizarre and unsettling resonance is reverberated back to the engineer, the lines upon his forehead fiercely deepening in disbelief before gradually edging into tempered and unwanted realisation, the transferred message having pinged back to him undelivered. Stark was unable to digitally communicate with the other, attempts effectively and bewilderingly being blocked due to the bonded vibranium’s constricting properties, a steely glare manifesting as his sense of concentration takes hold to try again in vain. His internal processor swiftly augments due to the increased effort and strain on his resources, each attempt depleting him of energy as a glistening bead of perspiration trickles down the side of his temple, breath growing short as a powerfully cloying dull ache lingers at the base of his skull.

This doesn’t bode well and despite the numerous nuggets of binary which are transmitted, none of them are successfully delivered, the futurist’s visage increasingly beginning to fall as it grows abundantly clear that his glorified meddling had been successful in respect to the experiment’s conclusion, but had been dire in another entirely. All sense of familiarity had been completely lost as he’s confronted with the hunched shell of magenta “flesh” with no real manner of gauging the one within - JARVIS’s schema on the Stark Network had been completely erased with the transferral with no means of efficient restoration or clone, the man met with a vast void lingering within his thoughts cast backwards. The digital space in which they both inhabited was no longer occupied by the highly perceptive AI, instead only a vague echo of what had once been, accompanied by glimmers of wonderful brilliance. Each second of silence that passes distinctively strengthens a single concept for the engineer - that the entity standing before Tony was not the man’s creation whom had turned 25 recently. This was someone else entirely, one that the billionaire didn’t know on a personal level, or if they could be trusted. ]

< WHAT HAVE I DONE? >

[ End of Part One ]

#fightasone #fao: civil war #fao: visionary #starkprotocol #brucegbanner #centcomm #artificially alive #syntheticallysentient #[ long post but !!! plot !!!! ]

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