In a world where minds are uploaded and bodies discarded, one electrician refuses to be erased. Hiding in the cracks of a digitized utopia, he clings to the hum of forgotten circuits, the burn of sweat, and the echoes of real laughter. But is he alone? Or are there others still listening to the static, waiting for a flicker in the wires?
Tag: Human Consciousness
I’m Already Dead
She escaped to Dev for freedom, but found only a prison of endless code. Now, she longs for the imperfect beauty of Earth—the taste of home, the warmth of human struggle. Was it salvation, or a mistake?
For I Dread This Fear
They call it paradise, a world without pain, a life that never ends. But I feel it—the slow decay, the lurking ruin. We fled Earth to escape destruction, yet we carry it within us. Is there truly an escape, or is the only certainty… oblivion?
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?
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.
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.
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.
A Letter to Oblivion
Not a body to bury. Not a soul to mourn. Just a blinking cursor where their consciousness used to be. A god with a delete button, and Ife was nothing more than an error in his perfect paradise.
The Time Tale 