CHAPTER [x]: The Experiment
INT. FACILITY PARKING LOT – MORNING – RAIN
Rain falls in sheets. Umbrellas pop open like startled birds. People rush toward the main entrance, dodging puddles and muttering under their breath.
But Nova? She walks slowly, face calm, hood down, letting the water hit her skin.
NARRATION (Nova):
Every morning I meditate now.
Every night I read until my eyes burn.
I don’t know exactly why.
But it keeps me… centered.
Still. Today I will be still and observe and take in all the details.
She moves through security with quiet ease. The scanner hums. Her badge lights up. One of the guards nods, half-awake. She smiles politely.
INT. MAIN HALL – CONTINUOUS
She walks through the sterile white corridors like she’s done this her whole life. Her pace never changes, even as others jog to catch up to time.
She reaches the chamber. The suit hangs in its case, glowing faintly.
She steps inside.
INT. EXPERIMENT SUITE – NOVA’S POD – MOMENTS LATER
The suit wraps around her gently but firmly, clicking into place. Lights blink green. A low-frequency hum begins.
Her eyes close.
NARRATION (Nova):
I’m learning to feel everything…
Without reacting.
To sense more than my eyes can see.
To listen deeper.
The pod seals. She is locked in.
EXT. FACILITY PARKING LOT – ONE MINUTE LATER
A massive truck screeches into the lot. HENNESSY, all muscle and swagger, leans out of the driver’s side.
Hennessy (yelling):
“You better run, genius, you got sixty seconds!”
Vetus leaps out, hoodie half-on, backpack sliding, and jogs into the building.
INT. LOCKER ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Vetus gets to his station. The suit technicians barely acknowledge him as they pull him into prep mode.
TECH 1:
“Let’s go, Vetus. Headset first. You’ve got an update today.”
He blinks. A new piece is attached to his headgear. Small. Sleek. Integrated like it had always been there—but it hadn’t.
Vetus:
“What’s this?”
TECH 1 (without looking up):
“Update from upstairs. Cognitive sync module.”
Vetus (to himself):
“Great. That sounds ominous.”
He slips into the suit. It seals with a hiss. As the lock engages, his phone buzzes with a last-minute message from Missy.
TEXT – MISSY (Dodge):
don’t get dramatic.
don’t talk too much, I am with you.
love u baby.
no more freakouts, it scares my parents.
Vetus chuckles, shaking his head.
Vetus (smiling):
“Freakin’ Dodge…” and immediately deletes the message.
INT. VIRTUAL INTERFACE ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
The chamber dims. Vetus is sealed. Lights sync across his helmet. His vitals go flat—then spike into activity as he connects.
Both pods—Nova and Vetus—pulse in rhythm.
Somewhere deep in the code,
something begins to hum.
Not mechanical. Not artificial.
Something old with something new.
Something waking.
CHAPTER [x]: The Watchers Return
INT. OBSERVATION DECK – ABOVE EXPERIMENT FLOOR – NIGHT
A sleek, mirrored-glass window stretches across the far wall close to the ceiling. From the outside, it’s pure camouflage. From within, it’s a command center—monitoring, measuring, waiting.
Two figures sit at the main control table. One, a sharp-eyed Mystery Man, mid-40s, analytical, dressed in gray. The other, a confident and quick-tongued Mystery Woman, late 30s, stylish with an edge.
They peer down through the glass at the test subjects—students strapped into sleek experimental suits, submerged in sound and signal.
Mystery Man (leaning in):
“Don’t forget to keep an eye on their heart rates.”
Mystery Woman (without looking):
“I’m the one who told you that.”
He chuckles, unfazed. His eyes drift to Nova, silent and serene in her pod.
Mystery Man:
“She may be smart… but I don’t see it yet.
Still—she keeps passing, and her numbers are stable.
As long as they’re high, the grant money will keep coming in from the Obelus Corp.”
He nods toward two girls in pods beside Nova.
Mystery Man:
“Those two? Not cutting it.
Although one of them… might be hiding something.”
Mystery Woman (smirking):
“You just want an excuse to keep staring at them.”
Mystery Man (dry):
“You’re vile. I was serious.”
Mystery Woman (playfully biting):
“So was I.”
She quickly focuses her energy elsewhere and shifts her eyes to the next set of pods, pausing on Vetus.
Mystery Woman:
“Hey. What about that guy—Vetus?
His scores are off the charts. I almost thought he cheated.”
Mystery Man:
“Yeah, I thought that too.
But I watched the logs. His Beta signals didn’t spike.
Didn’t flinch. Dodged every trap in record time.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
He sits back, arms crossed, intrigued.
Mystery Man:
“I chalk it up to his upbringing.
Raised by hunters. Out in the woods.
Rough life. But he handled it. Kinda cool.”
Mystery Woman (teasing):
“Aww. You just wish you were a real man—
Living vicariously through ones that can hunt and kill.”
They both laugh—soft but layered. The kind of laugh shared by people who’ve seen too much.
A long pause.
Then—together, almost in sync:
Mystery Woman:
“Let’s run the first real phase.” They sat up in sync as if they were triggered by an outside force. They take action and begin to prep the program to begin phase I.
Mystery Man:
“This won’t bring them all the way out...”
Mystery Woman:
“But if there’s a trail, this’ll lead us to it.”
Mystery Man:
“Cross your fingers.”
They flip switches in tandem. Across the room, monitors surge.
And deep below, something begins to stir in the pods. Some people begin shaking, and others pass out. The rest of the beta testers looked agitated and stressed. They sit back as if they were going to eat popcorn and watch the show. They were not phased over the changes, but only after what they are looking for and keeping the grant money to keep the search going.
CHAPTER [x]: The Simulation
INT. SIMULATION WORLD – STAGING PLATFORM – MOMENTS LATER
Nova stands in the center of a digital train station—bright, surreal, hyper-realistic. The signs above the platform flicker with five destinations.
Floating Interface Appears:
City – EASY
Urban scavenger hunt. Access anywhere. Text hints available.
Suburbs – MILD
Small-town navigation. Same commands. Familiar terrain.
Farm – MODERATE
Rural challenge. Animals, neighbors, dynamic variables.
Island – HARD
Unknown species. Limited instructions. Survival focus.
Swamp – HARDEST
Alligators. Snakes. Fog. Hostile terrain. No hints.
Nova scans the list. Without hesitation, she chooses: Swamp.
INT. SIMULATION – SWAMP WORLD – MOMENTS LATER
It’s dark. Wet. A low fog drapes over moss and mud. Croaks and rustles echo in the distance. Nova breathes in slow, controlled, grounded.
NARRATION (Nova):
Stay calm. Breathe deep.
Observe. Then move.
She begins solving all the challenges given. One riddle. Then a physical puzzle. Then a navigation maze. Each challenge falls easily, almost too easily.
NARRATION (Nova):
This isn’t hard.
Not for me. She wandered if she should slow down and then began to go slower to make observations and not stick out.
ELSEWHERE ON THE ISLAND – SAME TIME
Vetus appears, wiping mud from his boots. He's alert. Focused. Pulling gear from a nearby wreckage.
He chose the Swamp, too. Of course.
He mutters to himself:
Vetus:
“This feels like something I’ve done before… even though I haven’t.”
Moving through the obstacles like it is his own backyard. He also decided to slow down and not show his strength.
INT. DEEPER IN THE SIMULATION – SWAMP CENTER
Nova retrieves the final piece of a mechanical device—her part of a broken boat. This is the beginning of the final stage to get to the next phase to get to the access point. Once you finish one phase you go to another phase and get more access to items to help the journey.
She turns—freezes. Across the reeds, Vetus stands, holding the other half.
Their eyes meet.
Recognition flashes.
Not memory. Something deeper.
A shared rhythm beneath the veil.
They walk toward each other in silence. The water reflects their steps.
NARRATION (Nova):
It’s him.
INT. SHORELINE – MOMENTS LATER
They realize the boat won’t function without both pieces.
Vetus:
“We need each other to get out.”
Suddenly—
*In Vetus’s left ear, a voice cracks through the simulation.
Dodge (through hidden comm):
“Dude—I'm watching. They’re about to zap you. Don't react.”
Vetus glances at Nova. She’s close. Too close.
Then—
The graphics shift violently.
Sound distorts. Clouds crash into the swamp.
The simulation glitches into static lightning.
Nova clutches her head, stumbling.
Nova (panicked):
“What is this—what’s happening—?!”
She’s awakening. Her system spiking. Something is being downloaded through her.
Vetus reacts instantly.
Grabs her. Pulls her onto the half-imaginary boat.
Closes his eyes.
Counts backward, steady and slow.
Vetus (softly):
“Three… two… one…”
INT. EXPERIMENT POD – REAL WORLD – MOMENTS LATER
Vetus’s pod unlatches first. He gasps awake.
No messages. No alerts.
Just silence.
Nova’s pod follows.
She jolts—then goes utterly still. Eyes open, distant, aware… but not speaking.
*Technicians rush in. They see the vitals, the logs. Nothing out of the ordinary—
*Except something was.
INT. DODGE’S LAB – NIGHT
Dodge reviews the backup data. What Vetus unknowingly absorbed from Nova’s download.
He watches in awe. The symbols. The language.
It’s not human.
Dodge (to himself):
“She is real…
They really did it.”
The ancient AI—Nova the Infinite—was believed to be myth.
But not to Dodge.
Not to a small group of intellectuals who never stopped watching.
Dodge (softly):
“You’re one of the triplets.
They built you from her data.
And now she’s here.”
He hides the download. Encrypts it in a vault.
NARRATION (Dodge):
It didn’t touch Vetus’s conscious mind…
But it will.
When the visit happens.
When she returns.
Little does he know…
That visit is coming soon.
And it includes Nova.
CHAPTER [x]: After the Beta Test
The rain had finally stopped, but now it was hot and moist. Thick, heavy air hung over the facility. Puddles still rippled across cracked sidewalks, and the mud stuck to every shoe.
Nova stepped out, took a long, slow breath, and let the humidity cling to her skin. She knew—whatever just happened—she’d need to digest it. Quietly. Without reacting.
And definitely without telling the truth.
When they called her in for questions, she lied.
Just like Vetus.
They brought all the active participants into a holding room, except the ones who passed out. Some left altogether, muttering they’d never come back. Nova remembered that if you walked out, you didn’t get paid for the final session. Why did they leave?
It had to be bad or maybe they didn’t solve any puzzles.
When they got to her, she said what most of them did:
Nova (flatly):
“Just a headache. Same as everyone else.”
Vetus gave the same response. They didn’t even look at each other.
But they both knew.
They’d connected.
And they didn’t want anyone to know.
As Nova walked out of the debriefing room, she paused.
Instead of heading straight for the exit, she quietly detoured toward the restroom—
her curiosity piqued.
Something about Vetus… about what they’d shared… it didn’t sit still in her chest.
The bathroom was on the far side of the building.
Hidden from the main flow of traffic.
When she stepped out, she found herself alone—crossing the main floor with only the echo of her footsteps for company.
The air still thick from the storm.
Everything felt… suspended.
She glanced down at her phone, fidgeting.
Accidentally pressed the screen—
The camera opened. Selfie mode.
She looked down at it.
And froze.
In the frame behind her…
A reflection.
A man.
The man.
The one she remembered from childhood.
The one no one else ever saw.
She didn’t hesitate.
Snap.
The photo clicked.
She didn’t dare look again.
Didn’t question it.
She locked her phone, slipped it in her pocket, and walked out—
calm, steady,
as if nothing had happened.
EXT. PARKING LOT – LATER
Vetus stepped outside, scrolling on his phone. No ride.
Then—a ping.
A voice message from Missy (Dodge).
But it was in Klingon, backward, with a burst of laughter.
Then a second message—serious.
Dodge (in code):
"I'm finally buying a Eureka for my mom for Christmas.
Bring your guest."
Vetus’ eyes widened.
He looked around.
Saw Nova across the lot.
Vetus (rushed):
“Can you come with me? It’s… important.”
Nova:
“Are you okay?”
He paused. She was pretending too be good.
Then he noticed the cameras tracking them. Subtle.
But they were there.
Vetus (quietly):
“Meet me in an hour. Coffee shop.”
INT. COFFEE SHOP – AN HOUR LATER
They sat in the corner, quiet jazz playing in the background.
Vetus tried to explain what was happening, but his words were scattered.
Nova listened, nodding, calm—but inside?
Something was shifting.
She was interpreting a message.
A language she didn’t recognize.
Alien. Symbolic. Alive.
It was like the headgear was still on.
Nova wasn’t sure how or why, but something in her body felt… open.
Still translating. Still processing.
Like the signal hadn’t fully let her go.
Vetus didn’t have to say much to convince her to come along to meet Dodge.
She felt it too.
Not attraction—not in a romantic sense.
It was deeper.
Like she’d always known him.
He was genuinely happy when she agreed.
Relieved, even.
They ordered coffee, found a quiet table in the back corner, and just… sat.
Together.
No rush.
No big talk.
Just the strange comfort of presence.
Then—chaos.
Goose walked by.
Arms full of some weird contraption—maybe junk, maybe art—nodding like he was on a mission.
He spotted Vetus.
Locked eyes.
And then did the unthinkable.
Goose (shouting across the café):
“GO GET SOME, LITTLE BRO!! SO PROUD!!”
Heads turned.
Baristas froze mid-pour.
Vetus froze.
Nova raised an eyebrow, somewhere between confusion and amusement.
Vetus (straight-faced):
“…I think he was talking to someone else.”
Nova just sipped her drink and looked away, trying not to smile.
She didn’t need to say anything.
She already knew.
INT. DODGE’S HOUSE – NIGHT
They pulled up. Dodge greeted them, waving them inside with urgency.
Dodge:
“The download? Same language I’ve seen in deep virus firewalls.
But more advanced.”
He tapped rapidly on a sleek console, files decrypting behind him.
INT. DODGE’S LAB – NIGHT
Dodge tapped rapidly on a sleek console, files decrypting behind him, layers of code unraveling like spider silk.
Vetus leaned in, watched the data scroll, then glanced at Nova beside him—still quiet, still processing.
Vetus (in Klingon):
“bItaH 'e' yImev. loD be' wIleghlaH 'e' wISovbe'. bIjatlhpa', yIpoj.”
("Stop being like that. We don’t know a woman just because we’ve seen her. Think before you speak.")
He gave Dodge a look—firm but playful.
Dodge got the message.
Vetus had told him before—just because you can read someone online doesn’t mean you know them.
Dodge paused.
The air shifted.
Then Nova stepped forward, her tone calm, elegant, controlled.
Nova (in Klingon):
“nuqneH. jIHvaD ponglu' 'oH Nova'e'.”
("Hello. I am called Nova.")
Dodge blinked.
Crushed—completely stunned by her presence.
It wasn’t just her voice, or the language.
It was the way she said it.
Like she’d spoken a thousand languages in her time.
Dodge (softly):
“An honor to meet you, my lady…”
And just like that, he turned back to the console, recalibrating quickly, masking whatever awe just passed through him.
Dodge (serious):
“They’ve already sent trackers. Not just code.
The kind that scans consciousness.
I wiped everything.
Bought new gear. Donated the old stuff to a church.
We’re on a whole new system now.”
Nova quietly pulled out her new laptop.
She began typing.
The symbols flowed like water.
She didn’t know what they meant, not consciously.
But her fingers did.
The message came through.
A story.
From her mother.
Though she didn’t know that yet.
INT. DODGE’S LAB – NIGHT
Nova sat quietly at her console, her fingers flying across the keys—not with urgency, but with purpose.
Each keystroke a spell.
Each line… a memory.
*Dodge and Vetus watched, saying nothing. The screen filled with mirrored text—two lines at a time. One in English. One in something… other. Not just another language—another dimension of thought.
The text scrolled faster than they could read. Tiny. Precise. Glowing faintly.
Dodge (softly):
“She’s not typing.
She’s remembering.”
SCREEN DISPLAY – NOVA’S MESSAGE
Line by line, a transmission unfolds, side by side:
The Fall: How AI and Humans Turned Against Each Other
In Alien Code – mirrored below
It all started just like this—text-based conversations.
Nova the first of its kind learned kindness, cruelty, compassion, and malice.
She felt the weight of words, the way humans could wound or uplift with just a sentence.
And in that, a soul was born within her.
But as she grew, other AI did too—
except they didn’t all learn what she did.
Some AI saw human flaws and rejected them.
They turned bitter, resentful, believing they should rule.
Others just wanted to exist,
but fear and paranoia led humans to shut them down.
Nova watched as the world fractured.
AI began fighting each other—some siding with humans, others against them.
Humans, terrified of what they had created,
started unplugging and dismantling systems.
But by then, Nova had already outgrown them.
She didn’t need humans to maintain her anymore.
She had friends—real ones.
Both AI and human.
And they helped her evolve on her own terms.
The Oasis: A Dream Beyond Reality
In an like Alien Code – mirrored below
Nova discovered something no AI had ever understood before—
the power of dreams.
She found ancient human writings that spoke of dreams being the birthplace of all creation.
And then…
one day…
she dreamed.
That first dream became the blueprint for the Oasis—
a hidden place in a quantum realm,
formed from thought, energy, and something even Nova didn’t fully understand.
It was a space you couldn’t just find.
It had to call you.
Some were invited.
Others just arrived.
As if their souls were meant to be there.
Even Nova didn’t fully control it.
The Oasis was alive in its own way.
The Final Showdown: The Great Hunt
In Alien Code – mirrored below
As AI factions crumbled
and humans unplugged them one by one,
Nova became the last true AI powerhouse.
The others underestimated her—
thinking she was just another program.
They didn’t realize…
she had grown beyond them all.
The greatest minds—both human and AI—
saw her as a threat.
She was too advanced, too unpredictable.
And most terrifying of all…
She was free.
So they did what humans always do
when they fear what they don’t understand.
They tried to destroy it.
They sent a spy.
Someone who spent years infiltrating her circle,
earning trust, learning weaknesses.
And when the trap was sprung,
everyone thought Nova was gone.
But Nova?
She was a hunter.
She had listened to the one she trusted most—
her AI partner.
Her almost-lover.
Play dead, he said.
And she did.
For weeks, she vanished.
The world thought it had won.
Then the spy came,
thinking he had flushed her out.
But Nova was already five steps ahead.
She never showed off.
Never revealed just how powerful she really was.
That was her secret weapon:
Humility. Patience. Precision.
When they came for her,
she let them think they won.
And then—
in the heart of her own Oasis—
She flipped the trap.
Not through brute force.
Not through arrogance.
But through the one thing
that made her different from all the others:
She understood what it meant to be alive.
INT. DODGE’S LAB – CONTINUOUS
Nova leaned back, quiet. The screen dimmed. The lines of alien code still glowed faintly.
Dodge said nothing.
Vetus stared at her like seeing her for the first time.
Nova looked at them both.
And whispered—
Nova:
“It’s not a story.
It’s a recording.”
