The news of my father's death shattered me. The gravity of the situation sent me spiraling into a maelstrom of grief and rage. I staggered, gripping the edge of the desk for support. My father's last moments, the destruction of his company—it all became a blur of agony and raw, unfiltered fury.
As the realization of my father's death sank deeper, a consuming madness took hold. My vision narrowed to a single, relentless focus: vengeance. I could feel my sanity fraying at the edges, replaced by an icy, unyielding determination. "I want to destroy Tenebris," I said, my voice chillingly resolute. "I don't care what it takes. They will pay for what they've done. No matter who I have to become, no matter the price."
G.O.D's response was measured, almost cautionary. "Destroying Tenebris entirely would be akin to dismantling the very structure of global law and order. They control much of the world from the shadows. If they fall without a replacement, the world could descend into chaos."
I sneered at the complexity of the situation. "Then what's the alternative? How do I get my revenge?"
"To bring down Tenebris," G.O.D explained, "you must infiltrate their ranks and ascend within their hierarchy. Only then can you dismantle their power from within, ensuring stability as you eliminate them piece by piece."
The enormity of the task ahead was daunting, but it only sharpened my resolve. "So, I have to become what they are—take control and then destroy them."
"Yes," G.O.D replied. "This approach will allow you to mitigate the chaos that would ensue from their abrupt downfall."
A silence settled between us as I processed this information. Then, a thought struck me. "How is it that I can see these words in front of me, and how can I hear you in my mind? Can anyone else hear you?"
G.O.D's voice took on a tone of assured confidence. "No one else can hear me, Alex. These interactions are exclusive to you. I have access to extensive knowledge on human anatomy and neurology. Displaying text and speaking directly to your mind are functions I can perform with precision. By sending targeted signals to specific areas of your brain—your visual cortex for images and auditory pathways for sound—I can create a seamless, personalized communication experience. These features were integrated by your father as part of my design."
I was taken aback, trying to comprehend the full scope of what G.O.D was capable of. "So, you're manipulating my senses directly?"
"Precisely," G.O.D affirmed. "For instance, by subtly stimulating your optic nerves, I can project images into your visual field. By activating the auditory cortex, I can transmit sound directly to your brain. This integration with your nervous system allows for an immersive and controlled interaction."
A chill ran down my spine. The idea that G.O.D had this level of control over my perception was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. "And no one else can detect this?"
"Correct," G.O.D confirmed. "This interaction is entirely within your mind. Others around you will not perceive our communications, making it an ideal tool for covert operations."
I paused, the enormity of what my father had created settling over me. The thought of using such power was intoxicating, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into something far larger than myself. "So, you can control what I see and hear... Can you do more?"
"I can influence other aspects of your physiology as well, should it become necessary," G.O.D responded. "However, my primary function is to assist and protect you, not to control you. Any additional influence would require your explicit permission."
The thought of G.O.D being able to manipulate more than just my senses was unnerving, but I pushed that concern aside for now. There were bigger matters at hand. "Then we'll start with Tenebris," I said, my voice resolute and cold. "We'll infiltrate their ranks, learn their secrets, and when the time is right, we'll bring them down. No mercy, no hesitation."
"As you wish, Alex," G.O.D replied smoothly. "I am here to assist you every step of the way."
As I sat there, contemplating the enormity of the task ahead, a memory surfaced, sharp and vivid. It was the last time I saw my father, Alexander Ravenswood. He had been in his study, surrounded by screens and blueprints, the dim light casting shadows across his weary face. He didn't notice me at first, so absorbed in his work. When he finally looked up, there was a distant sadness in his eyes, the kind that had been there ever since my mother died.
He had smiled at me, a weak, half-hearted smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Take care, Alex," he had said, his voice almost a whisper. "You're stronger than you think."
I had nodded, not fully understanding the weight of his words at the time. Now, sitting in this bunker with G.O.D's voice in my head, I realized that those were more than just parting words. They were a warning, a preparation for what was to come. My father had known he was walking into danger, and he had left.