Chapter 7 - The Flood of Memories
Sparks showered down from the exposed wiring as Miller ripped the internal data cables loose with his bare hands, tearing them from their housing with a guttural grunt. Arthur plugged a heavy, braided copper wire into the console’s auxiliary port, feeding decades of archival data directly into the active network stream.
On the main monitor, the progress bar for Leo’s memory scrub abruptly halted at eighty-four percent. A loud, mechanical grinding sound echoed from deep within the server racks as the massive cooling fans strained against the sudden influx of uncompressed analog files.
“Warning,” the automated system announced, its voice now stuttering and distorted like a broken record. “System overload imminent. Non-standard data packets detected. Purge protocol failing.”
"It's working!" Arthur exclaimed, watching the cascading lines of green code flood the display. "The system can't process true human memory. It’s choking on the emotional weight of it!"
Suddenly, the heavy steel door at the far end of the subterranean chamber was blown inward with a deafening blast. Thick white smoke billowed into the room as a squad of corporate security enforcers clad in sleek black armor swarmed through the breach, their weapon visors glowing with a lethal red hue.
"Don't move! Hands where we can see them!" the lead enforcer shouted, leveling an assault rifle directly at Arthur’s chest.
Miller instinctively raised his service pistol, but before he could fire, a searing bolt of energy struck him in the shoulder. He cried out in pain, dropping his weapon as he collapsed against the metal console, clutching his bleeding arm.
"Miller!" Arthur yelled, moving to shield the wounded officer.
The lead enforcer stepped forward, his boots ringing loudly against the concrete floor. He reached up and pressed a control on his helmet, sliding the visor back to reveal the cold, calculating face of Chief Higgins himself.
"End of the line, Arthur," Higgins said, walking slowly toward the console. He glanced at the monitor, where the progress bar was frozen at eighty-nine percent. "Impressive little trick. You almost managed to crash the local node. But you forgot one fundamental rule of the new world."
"And what’s that, Thomas?" Arthur spat, stepping between the enforcer and the terminal. "That you sold your soul to a machine?"
"No," Higgins replied calmly, smiling as he drew a small remote detonator from his belt. "The rule is that the house always wins. We don't need to process the data anymore. We can simply isolate the node and quarantine the entire sector."
Arthur’s eyes widened in horror. "You’re going to level the park?"
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"Sector B is being cleared for a new fiber-optic hub," Higgins said smoothly, pressing his thumb against the detonator’s activation pad. "And your grandson was expensive to replace. Say goodbye to the algorithm, Arthur."
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