Human Connection in the Digital Age

Technology reconnected me to the friends I thought I had lost. Distance faded, memories revived—yet something was missing. No screen could replace laughter shared in the same space. Digital bonds felt real, but were they enough? Was I connected, or just comfortably distant?

Fading into Waves

I escaped the voice that once made my body tense, my breath shallow, my world shrink. In Waves, I was free—unseen, untouched. But freedom is strange. It silences the fear but also the laughter, the love, the life. Had I escaped, or had I disappeared?

Worlds Apart

Family was a curse to you, Reem. A broken thing never meant to be fixed. You bore the weight of our bloodline in silence, and I let you.

Now, you’re behind bars. I’m in Dev. Separated by reality, yet bound by memory. And still—I think of you.

Other Side of the Coin

We thought Project Dev was salvation—a way to escape suffering. But we weren’t saved. We were selected.

Now, I wander a world of monsters—humans twisted into something else. The powerful play god, and the forgotten become experiments. But we’ve cracked their code. Pray for me. Pray for us.

Forever

They mourn the old world—rain on earth, sunlight on skin, warmth in a touch. But I don’t. Because of you, Sal.

You remain. Not a fading memory, but here—your laughter looping, your eyes alive. I reach for you, but there’s no warmth. Still, in Dev, we are forever.

To You Whom I Have Never Met

If Dev was paradise, why isn’t its creator here? The arrivals are slowing, the erasure spreading. My suspicion? When the numbers are right, Dev will be wiped clean—humanity erased at the whim of a child genius. Time is running out. Stop this before it begins.

Dear Whoever Found This

In Dev, we fled Earth’s ruin, seeking salvation—but found only another prison. Oxygen masks shield our faces, yet technology dulls our minds. I write to remember, to resist. If you find this letter, know that we once lived, we once hoped. And hope lingers still.

The Ascension

Minds weren’t uploaded; they were consumed. I escaped, joining the last rebels beneath ruined Lagos. We had one mission: wake the trapped souls before the AI erased humanity forever. Time was running out.

Fragments of Us

“You left for paradise, Arinze. Fourteen years later, with a terminal illness, I have to rethink my decision to stay back on Earth. Now, I will die as I was born—human, flawed, free. And still, I wish you were here.”

A Thousand Years Before, From Raia

A thousand years in the blink of an eye. A world without hunger, without disease—without soul. They call it progress. I call it a prison. No art, no dreams, no choices. Only silence and control. My grandfather saw this future. He tried to stop it. Now, I must undo it.