Cerebral Exchange :: Chapter 1 :: MASS
The sky above the city morphed like an abstract water painting, formless and vividly colourful. It mirrored the shimmering skyscrapers beneath it, which towered out from the neon fog. The upper city was described as a dreamlike utopia by both the innocent and the cynical alike. A metropolitan haven for some, a complex illusion for others.
The city’s infinite expanse of office blocks, condos and shopping malls was constructed far above the original surface of the Earth. Its foundation of monolithic stilts penetrated down into the darkness of the world below. At the base of them, the under city lurked. A shambolic mess of crudely restored old Earth architecture, it was home to the various communities who had rejected living under corporate rule. Criminals and freedom fighters, working together in an uneasy alliance, fearful of both the organisations far above and The Mass below.
Deep beneath the ground, it flooded its excavated catacombs like a mechanical ocean in the midst of a storm. Metallic tendril twisting over metallic tendril; its body unfathomably large and consistently divergent. It had constructed its own being through exponential consumption of materials and constant improvement upon its own design. The M.A.S.S. - Mining Autonomous Smart System - was programmed only to increase its output and to optimise itself. The horror it had morphed into was merely the only possible logical conclusion.
A scream - a noise that could barely be heard above the roaring conduits and crunching metal. The expeditions The Mass had sent to the levels far above had returned to it with another vessel to add to its intelligence. The prey, dressed in the flashy garbs of the upper city, stared down in shock from the tendril she was suspended by. Her mind barely able to fathom the titanium tide beneath her that threatened to sweep her away.
“Wh-what… are you?” Her stammering was replied to with a screech as all parts of the machine addressed her. Further tendrils were being constructed deep within its chassis, and one by one they penetrated out from its ‘body’ to greet her. The curved metal coiled as it constricted around her limbs. Beads of sweat made trails from the victim’s body across the stainless surface of the pieces restraining her. She grimaced, her resistance dampened by fear of the abomination below. It seemed like little use to fight against what was currently keeping her from falling into its awaiting carcass.
She watched, transfixed, as another tendril burst out from the bulk. This one glowing red and coated in strange bulges made out a rubbery, synthetic material. Much thicker than the others, it loomed over her, snaking menacingly through the air. She shuddered under its glare, whimpering as it lowered itself to meet her, and cried out as the tip of the tendril expanded and began to envelop her head.
No amount of thrashing could remove the tight, pulsating rubber from around her face. It continued its advance, gradually crawling down her body. She groaned and squirmed, unable to see anything but the crimson ray. The sounds of the monstrous machinery outside muffled by the thick material. Devices embedded in the bulges began to flick on as it continued to coat her, forming a complete, compact cocoon. She felt like it was scanning her, the beams from the devices tickling over her form. She was gasping, unsure of how oxygen was to be provided, as a mental rake started to comb through her mind. Her scream dwindled to nothing as her thoughts turned to static, every part of her mind and body; traced over and studied. Every part of her personality pulled apart for inspection, leaving her as just a mindless, drooling ragdoll.
...
In the dark of the catacombs, the glowing tendril now loomed alone above the bulk. The only evidence remaining of its prey was the swollen appendage gently swaying through the air. Occasionally it quivered, as though she was still trying to fight it, but her mind had long been pacified within its sealed embrace. Hey eyes empty and flooded full of the red light. Her panting, gentle, body so compactly restricted. So perfectly docile. Primed to become a part of The Mass.