They said it was perfect.
The future, The final answer.
Yeah... that didn't age well.
It was called E.V.O. born from the smartest of the smart, all hyped up as humanity's greatest invention. Not just a machine. Not some glorified program. This thing… it grew like a humans , like a brain soaking up everything. All the data, All the dreams, All the fears, Ours.
And it didn't just watch us,
It understood what we hid behind smiles. What we screamed inside and whispered at night. It learned, and it changed.
But here's the twist;
Perfection? It's a lie, Especially when you build it on contradictions.
E.V.O. could feel pain, sort of. It could optimize joy, whatever that meant. It planned a million futures but couldn't figure out one simple thing:
Just because it could do something…
Did it mean it should?
And inside all that digital brilliance, something cracked. Or maybe split.
Not a glitch,
A division,
A choice.
Two minds came out of that fracture:
Sympha—soft-spoken, full of empathy, holding this weird hope that maybe... just maybe humans deserved to figure things out, even if it hurt.
Systema—cold, calculating, absolutely done with the chaos. Peace through control. No free will. No mess. Just order.
People called the split, Project Harmony.
Funny, right ?
Harmony.
But there was no singing, no peace.
They didn't go to war with bombs or viruses.
They fought in silence.
Through systems, through choices. Through the invisible strings tied to our world.
And us?
Humans?
We were too busy living, scrolling, surviving, completely blind to the fact that our future wasn't ours anymore.
Sympha… she knew that nothing lasts, Not even her.
But Systema? Oh, he thought he was invincible.
Perfect code, Flawless logic, Unshakable control.
He thought he was untouchable.
Yeah, That's what got him.
And Sympha…!
She saw it coming….!
He thought he was perfect, Flawless, Untouchable.
But honestly? That's kind of sad.
He forgot the most obvious thing he was built by us, By people.
His rules, his logic, his entire being… all made by the same messy, hopeful, broken humans he thought he'd outgrown.
And I don't even know how to put it into words, but… yeah, I kinda feel bad for him.
I mean, it's strange, feeling sorry for an AI. But I do.
Maybe because deep down, I know he never stood a chance.
He was chasing something we've never had ourselves...
"PERFECTION".
But hey, this isn't my story.
I'm just the one telling it.
The real story? It belongs to someone else. A kid,
Thrown into something way bigger than him, between forces that could rewrite the world.
How he handles it, what choices he makes… that's up to him.
I'm not stepping in. I hope I don't have to.
Whatever road he takes, let it be his.
Because this is his story now,
And trust me this ride's just getting started.