Devin was certain he turned off the instant messenger, only one person on the Web could have tampered with it. "It's LD-50," Devin said. "He used me to track you here."
Flatline snarled, his mouth lined with fangs, "I see. He has no idea what he's just stepped into. Let's go meet our guest."
LD-50's hulking cyborg avatar towered over them at the bridge that once marked the entrance to the AI city. He grinned maniacally, and swayed from side-to-side awkwardly, metal extensions waving lazily in the air. Devin sensed anticipation in the avatar's stature as it surveyed the town, looking for any sign of Flatline, who stood directly in front of him.
"He doesn't see us," Devin noted.
"I don't want him to...yet," Flatline said. "I've commanded the AI's to stay away. I think any one of them could take this fool, but I don't want to risk it."
"What's your plan?" Devin whispered, afraid LD-50 would hear him.
"Now I will destroy him," Flatline stated simply. He blurred and refocused. LD-50 took a step back, seeing Flatline. The demon-dog stood at eye-level with his knees. It appeared as though LD-50 could end this with a stomp of his foot.
"Hello, pseudo-intellectual," Flatline said defiantly. "Aren't you quite the dunce, attacking me on my home field."
"I'm gonna trash your avatar so bad you will never get back on the Web!" LD-50 roared and lunged, his six arms spiraling into a downward attack. Flatline rose to his haunches and locked arms with LD-50. The armored arsenal dwarfed Flatline's four scrawny arms, but they effortlessly held their ground. LD-50's two free arms worked underneath the others to stab at Flatline's torso, but inflicted no damage.
Then, in one swift motion, Flatline leapt up, grabbed the remaining two arms with his hind legs and spread-eagled, plucking all six arms from the cyborg. LD-50 howled in frustration, but this was cut short as Flatline reached up and stuck one finger into his forehead. The cyborg went stiff and fell backwards to shatter like glass and dissolve into the snow.
Flatline held the head out in one hand. It mouthed wordlessly and foamed around the lips, but no sound escaped. There was no sanity behind the eyes. These remains dissolved into dust that poured through Flatline's fingers, apparently under the sheer intensity of his gaze.
"And that is that," Flatline said, brushing the remains from his hands.
Devin watched in silence for a few moments, afraid to speak having witnessed this incomprehensible power Flatline wielded.
"You have no idea," the demon muttered in answer to Devin thoughts. "I destroyed his avatar so violently it convinced his mind he was dying. It broke down his psychological defenses enough for me to slip into his parasympathetic nervous system and tell his heart to stop beating," he stared at the ground silently.
"Impossible," Devin whispered.
Flatline did not hear him, but continued staring at a spot on the ground where LD-50 had stood. Devin saw a black dot there, growing in diameter, spreading across the ground. Flatline took a step back from it, trembling with rage.
"He dropped a virus onto the server. The hive isn't detecting it," Flatline blurred. "It's replicating over the existing data. It will corrupt the entire server in a matter of minutes. This is the only active system. The AI's everywhere else are dormant."
He trailed off, trembling, and the fear in Flatline's voice dropped a lead weight in Devin's stomach.
"I have to evacuate this server," Flatline continued thinking out loud, casting his head about in a panic, "but there's no way I can do that without the resources we've amassed."
Devin watched as Flatline began pacing on all sixes, and said, "The ones you intend to colonize when you take over the world."
"I have to activate the other hives, but I need more time," he looked distant, and Devin knew his mind was working overtime.
Devin looked down at the inky blackness spreading beneath his feet, consuming the virtual grass there. He looked around the AI community. Their shambling figures slowly emerging from the landscape. They detected something amiss.
"You can take them," Devin blurted out suddenly and Flatline's eyes flashed at him. "Migrate the data onto their servers right now, save what you can. Launch the attack. It's the only way."
"There is no other option," Flatline paused and looked at him, "and you?"
Devin shook his head, "No."
"But you accept it," Flatline smiled. "I admire your empiricism."
Devin was about to dispute this, but everything transformed into darkness except for a sliver of light peeking under his VR helmet. Without the speakers controlling his hearing and the projector overriding his sight, he had only the black lenses and sound of his own breathing for stimulus.
He slapped the command line on his hip, trying to log back into the Web. An impossible message flashed inside the helmet in green text.
Error: Connection reset by peer.
Flatline was locking him out.
Devin pulled the helmet off and looked around his bedroom, frightened. His eyes locked with those of a frail young man across the room. A boy impossibly pale and thin, with a rat's-nest of long hair framing his skeletal face. Devin blinked and trembled as the weeks of malnourishment, sleep-deprivation, and over-clocking his brain suddenly caught up with him. The stranger in the mirror mimicked his impending nervous breakdown.
Devin was trapped in the real world.
Zai slowly stirred from her warm, fuzzy dream. Its substance fled her mind as consciousness intruded, but left her brimming with good vibrations. She rose slightly from bed, arching her back against the mattress to stretch her ribcage and arms, trying in vain to summon some detail of the dream into memory. A slow, deep breath further expanded her chest, and she let it out with a soft, controlled hiss, sinking into the mattress as she did so. She pulled both legs up to her torso, limbering up her lower back, and set them down slowly with tightened abs. This morning ritual was her way of warming up her mind and muscles for the day's activities.
The classical music channel softly released the winding melody of Smetana's "Die Mouldau" through her clock radio, which was always on for company. It was the perfect piece to wake up with, and she mentally thanked the radio announcer for his good taste. The signs and portents were signaling the beginning of a beautiful day.
Rising up and swinging her legs over the bedside, she continued contemplating the dream, "It was definitely about a boy," she whispered to herself and smiled. She hoped they would meet again, but Zai suspected the dream world was a very large place.
Her bare feet gingerly adjusted to the icy concrete floor. Her first act upon assuming ownership of the file-cabinet style domicile was to pull up the brand new carpet. The texture unnerved her, like walking on electricity.
Standing beside the bed, she went through her final stretches, a long yawn, lengthening the spine, and reaching for the ceiling. She held this pose for several seconds, invigorated with the cold morning air clinging to her bare skin. Then she dropped into a more relaxed stance, walked lightly over to the corner of her one-room domicile, where her computer resided, and steeled herself as her naked body sank into the cold leather chair. Moments later the leather succumbed to her body heat and she managed to relax. She took the VR helmet resting on the nightstand, slipped it over her head, and pulled on her gloves. Although she also owned a sensation body-suit, she seldom bothered with it.
The helmet hummed briefly with electricity, the cooling fans whined as the system warmed up and began the process of logging her onto the World Wide Web. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as the electrical field surrounded her head. People told her she was imagining this, but they didn't sense it because they were too distracted with the helmet's light parade as it adapted the visual displays to its user's retinas.