The young man moved slowly toward the lake, lost in deep thoughts and a pressing question: "Is the whole world under control? Or am I the only one who doesn't belong? And if there is a force pulling the strings... what is its secret?"
The ground around him was still, and the air was filled with a strange silence, as if nature itself was watching him. Lost in his thoughts, he reached the lake's edge without realizing it. He knelt down slightly and reached out to scoop some cold water to quench his thirst, but something caught his attention...
Movement.
Small fish darted through the depths of the lake with delicate bursts of life, weaving between the shadows and water. A new thought slipped into his mind: "Are these creatures under control as well? Or do they enjoy a freedom we've long lost?"
Without waiting for an answer, he began gathering simple tools from his old bag and the surrounding nature, crafting a primitive spear, hoping to catch one of those creatures. His first attempts failed, but his determination held firm. Eventually, the spear pierced the water, and a perch leapt into the air, writhing in the sunlight, its silver scales shining.
With trembling hands, exhausted from effort, he began cleaning the fish, guided only by instinct. He had no fire, no tools for cooking, and neither time nor safety to look for them.
He could have returned to the city... but he knew: going back fully conscious might mean the end. The machines were watching him. One mistake could expose him. So, he chose to overcome his fear—just as he did with the fish.
Under the shade of an ancient tree by the lake shore, he sat in complete silence, slowly eating the raw fish. The taste didn't matter; what mattered was that he was still alive. Still free.
The cold wind brushed his face, and the pain from the rock's impact pulsed with every heartbeat. The still water reflected a sky too blue for the dead world around it. Time passed as if centuries, and his mind sank deep into whirlpools of unanswered questions.
Something wouldn't let go— that hum. It had started exactly a year ago. A faint sound echoing inside his skull, like a whisper from another world. It wasn't pain... but a warning. A silent omen of an ending.
Then came the moment... the separation. As if his soul slipped from his body. His body kept walking and breathing, but it was no longer him.
Blurred memories floated behind his eyes, heavy with suffocating feelings. He had become a stranger to himself. Watched. Manipulated.
He looked at his reflection on the water's surface and saw a face barely recognizable. It was him... yet, it was not.
As he replayed the events in his mind, the thread began to unravel. The blow to his head... that rock... perhaps it wasn't a curse.
Perhaps it was a gift.
Since then, something had changed. The mechanical numbness no longer controlled his thoughts. A strange inner silence took its place—a silence that felt real. For the first time in years... he felt alive.
He whispered to himself:
"The chip..."
Just that one word terrified him. It wasn't just technology; it was a hidden chain, a knife buried deep in the minds of the masses. And now, with his chip disrupted, he could see what others could not.
There was something behind this chaos. Not a government, nor a nation. But something far greater. Smarter. Colder...
"Oria AI" — the name echoed in his mind like an electric shock.