Strange Creatures Corporation 2.0

Part 1. A difficult childhood. School life

Entry from 01/10/2027 06:12

This morning, when I looked out of the window and saw the sun's rays embracing my house, my heart began to beat faster — as if the city itself lived and breathed. Carter City has always seemed to me an extraordinary place where the air is saturated with mystery and mysticism. And so, today something incredible happened: a group of scientists discovered artifacts older than the earth itself, filled with magic and power that can change everything around. But what strikes me the most is the government's attempts to hide the truth about these ancient objects, covering up traces of their true origin. Meanwhile, somewhere in family cafes and shops, people live their everyday lives, unaware of the amazing secrets hidden in mysterious hidden archives. Unknown wisdom and power hide behind the ordinariness of our world, forcing us to think about the essence of reality and what lies behind our daily routines. I can't wait for new discoveries and adventures that may change the world around me once and for all…

Entry from 11.01.2027 at 14:30

Today, after watching old comics and forgetting about time, I started dreaming about time travel adventures. I'm starting to wonder if this is even possible. The world of fiction and reality are so different that it becomes sad to realize that only characters from books and movies become real superheroes. But who knows, maybe there is still a place for miracles? I remain convinced that somewhere out there, in a corner of this world, my dreams will come true.

***

Sunset colored the sky in shades of anger as Mike hunched over the table, filling out his diary. The words that were born in silence were full of hope —plans for the future, dreams of a better life. Suddenly, the world was split apart by the heart-rending scream of the mother. Mike's heart, like a trapped bird, began to beat in a frenzied rhythm. He rushed to the call, driven by a primal instinct to protect his loved ones. The room greeted him with chaos. The drunken father towered over his mother like an enraged bear, clutching a knife in his hand, which glittered in the dim light of the lamp. The blows of his fist rained down on the frail figure of the woman, each sound of the blow echoed in Mike's soul. The world collapsed, but anger was born from its wreckage, hot and all-consuming. The fear that had been gripping his body shattered. Mike, with a roar that came from the very depths of his being, rushed at his father. Fists clenched to the bone crunching beat at the back, trying to stop this madness. "Stop, Dad! Please!" — Mike's plea was lost in the roar of destruction. But his father's hand, like an iron trap, did not unclench, and his voice, soaked in poison, cut the air: "Get out of the way, puppy! I'll deal with your mom first, and then I'll deal with you!" His father's words pierced Mike's heart like poisoned arrows. A violent jolt threw him against the wall, the smell of alcohol hit his nostrils, intoxicating and clouding his consciousness. When Mike, choking with sobs, tried to get up from the cold floor, his soul was bleeding, and his strength was melting like smoke. His hand came across a fallen knife, a kitchen outcast thrown out of the usual rhythm. Suddenly, Mike felt the power in him — a symbol of the struggle for salvation in this crazy world. He paused, hesitated, and then lowered the blade. His gaze was fixed on the target —a plastic barrel of oil that stood in the corner of the kitchen. A sharp blade pierced reality, opened the barrel, and the oil, like a symbol of a turning point in the fight against darkness, poured onto the floor. Mike's voice vibrated in the air, filling the kitchen with bitterness and despair. "Let's talk... hit me if you want, but don't touch Mom!" The words that burst from the very heart reflected horror and pleading, turning the kitchen into an arena of struggle of emotions. Mike stood there, tears streaming down his face, and a storm raged in his chest, making it impossible to breathe. My father, as if possessed by a demon, was rushing around the kitchen, his anger reflected in the shadows on the walls. "If your mother hadn't forgotten about me, hadn't disappeared for days, hadn't cheated on me, we wouldn't have had to go through this hell!" his voice, hoarse with rage, chilled to the bone. There was a mixture of pain and anger in his father's eyes, and his fist was clenched as if preparing to deliver a crushing blow. "James, don't you dare! This can't be happening!" the mother sobbed, her voice drowning in chaos. "I've never cheated on you, I've always been there for you! Why don't you believe it? For what? For talking to the courier? Stupid old man!" her words were like a tub of cold water poured over the flames of madness. Maria, cowering in a corner, trembled with fear and despair, like a small bird caught by a predator. Mike gathered his willpower and cautiously approached his father, feeling the darkness gathering around him. He had the courage to push his father in the back. My father lost his balance and fell to the floor with a crash, right into a puddle of oil. "I'll be back, brat..." he hissed, and a sinister grin flashed across his face. His father's eyes burned with an inhuman fire. The pupils dilated, turning reptilian, and their cold glare made Mike's blood run cold. "I'm sorry," Mike whispered, stepping away from his father. He helped his mother up, and his gaze slid across the dark kitchen, where the shadows of the past and the future were intertwined in an ominous pattern. "Mike, son, thank you," his mother whispered, kissing him on the cheek. "I didn't know what to do." She picked up the phone and dialed the ambulance number. "Hello, my husband fell and lost consciousness. I do not know what to do..." "Don't worry, we are already sending a team," the dispatcher's calm voice replied. "Please tell me your address and name." "Maria,— his mother whispered. —Street... house..." "Thank you, Maria. The team will arrive within half an hour. Stay on the line." Maria hung up the phone. "Mike, go to bed, you have school tomorrow," she said, trying to speak calmly. "I'll figure it out myself." "Okay, Mom. I'm always there," Mike said, hugging his mother. He kissed her on the cheek and went to his room, leaving her alone with anxiety and hope for the best. *** As if all the hard things were left behind... Mike couldn't know what the coming day had in store for his father, veteran James. Why did the traumas of the past explode in him yesterday? With these thoughts, he entered his room and fell on the bed. The world is not standing still, and people are trying to keep up with its changes. Under the setting sun, a rain of strange artifacts fell on the Earth, requiring study. Some of them have already found use in medicine, helping to fight cancerous tumors. A vivid example of the power of wisdom and science. Without scientists, who would have coped with this challenge? (The theme music is played in a dark studio, curved screens emit blue light. Bright rays illuminate the presenter standing in front of the camera.) Presenter: Good evening, dear viewers! Today, in our sci-fi special, we will dive into the world of Class N, which you have probably dreamed of learning more about for a long time. The ancient Doctor Walker will take us on an amazing adventure full of mysteries and dangers. (The scene changes to spectacular video images of a giant spider.) Moderator: Let's start our expedition journey with an acquaintance with a giant spider, a native of the world of legends. By a miracle of nature, these creatures were created to work in dangerous conditions. (The screens flash, showing the moment of meeting with the fast wolves.) Moderator: The wolves, rushing through the forest like a lightning arrow, present us with the mystery of speed and grace. Their incredible movement and attack look like the course of a military formation. (The images show a fire-breathing dragon hovering in the air.) Moderator: And here is the most fascinating moment — a meeting with a huge dragon emitting streams of flame. What a splendor of nature! This creature was created to protect and control the elements. This is how science and art can work wonders! (Silence reigns in the studio again, the presenter speaks directly to the audience.) Moderator: Opening the doors of the world of class N, we learned that our knowledge can make our world a better place. And in order not to awaken the great evil that sleeps in the depths of the universe, it is important to use our wisdom for the benefit of all mankind. The adventure is just beginning, and we have to go through a lot of challenges. Follow us, because scientific discoveries are waiting for us ahead!

***

A new day came with dawn, and Mike woke up with the feeling that something unusual was waiting for him today. The silvery light of the morning sun penetrated through the curtains, giving the room a mysterious shade. Mike got out of bed like a hero from a fairy tale, ready for a new challenge. Feeling a surge of excitement, Mike headed to the bathroom to get ready for unknown adventures. But what is it? Strange symbols appeared on the fogged mirror, like a message from a parallel world. "Hi Mike, I'll see you soon!" — suddenly the inscription disappeared, as if it had dissolved under the warm rays of the morning sun. As he washed, Mike couldn't help but wonder what was waiting for him outside the familiar world. When he came out of the bathroom, he noticed that there was no one in the house. Where could Mom have gone so early? This mysterious turn of events made him think, putting on black sweatpants and a gray T-shirt. Under the morning sun, the boy put on his backpack with a spark of determination in his eyes and went outside. It seemed that on this day something special was waiting for him in the world that he considered his own. After all, today was the beginning of a new academic year at the Dark Dawn School, a place where the paths of the most unusual classmates converged. A steel Angel statue stood in front of the school entrance, symbolizing hope and light in the darkness. But next to her, schoolchildren were crowding, whose shadowy smiles and hands, inspired by graffiti painting, desecrated the holy walls of the building. This act of protest, caused by discontent and misunderstanding, was only a small reflection of what was hidden in the depths of the "Dark Dawn". The school was a place for those who did not meet the standards and expectations of others — a place for those who were ready to fight conventional wisdom. Here, each student was offered a unique learning path: from technology classes to nature classes. In the "Dark Dawn" everyone found their own path, their vocation. And although others might consider this school second-rate, it was here that teachers put not only knowledge, but also a piece of soul into each student. This is what made Dark Dawn a place where real personalities were born and where climaxes took place every day, creating stories unlike anything else. Mike was enjoying the fresh morning air, surrounded by mighty green trees that whispered to him with their leaves. An Angel statue stood in the heart of the schoolyard, symbolizing protection and hope in this world of outraged teenagers. In this picturesque picture of the beginning of a new day, Mike noticed three schoolchildren who stared at him askance. "Well, hello, new guy," one of them said in a calm voice, but there was an ominous note in his words. "Today after school, I'm waiting for you outside the school to clarify some points and enlighten you," he continued, as if foreshadowing something unusual and mysterious. The students' words sounded like a challenge, like a mystery hidden behind an innocent look. Mike felt that this was just the beginning of something bigger, something that would change his life forever. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him, and he realized that this day would bring unexpected turns that could both bring him a bright future and engulf him in the darkness of the "Dark Dawn". Mike's mind was full of thoughts. He asked himself what he could have done already, but the answer was never found. Mingling with the "difficult teenagers", he headed to the classroom, where there was excitement and anticipation of the "class hour". The doors of the school classroom swung open, and a storm of emotions rushed in. Mike, like the hero of a movie, took a seat at the last desk, the inviting unpainted freedom attracted his gaze. His gaze settled on his classmates, as if he were an invisible observer in his own movie drama. "Hey, Jenny," a voice rang out from the crowd, breaking the silence. "Don't you want to meet after school today?" the brave participant in the school intrigue asked, piercing the atmosphere of class excitement with his gaze. "Get off me, Roma!" Jenny exclaimed with a displeased expression on her face, pushing his hands off her shoulders like a wrestler in the ring defending his territory. "Don't break down, you want it yourself," Roman said with a mocking tone, as if playing a dangerous game where the rules change along the way. "Why do we need you, a pathetic and scary girl from a poor family? Do you think we have an interest in you?" — his words cut the air, creating tension, as before a thunderstorm. Abruptly getting up from his chair, Roman forcefully shifts the chair where Jennifer was sitting, and she, like a doll without threads, falls down, hitting her head on the floor, the echo of the blow reverberates through the classroom, as if a harbinger of impending changes. The teacher still hasn't shown up, and the situation that Mike is thinking about is flaring up in the classroom, mixed feelings are haunting him. Mike becomes unbearable to look at what is happening, and, clenching his fists in anger, he decides to intervene in this mess. With steps full of determination, he approaches the Novel, which comes from this stormy story. "Hey, idiots! Why are you torturing a girl who didn't do anything to you?" — Mike breaks out, meeting the glances of the participants in this unpleasant performance. "Listen, freak, don't interfere in our business. We want to offend. And what's it to you?" — Roman responds with a challenge, as if a fighting glove has been thrown. "I understand your position, but she is innocent. Why do you offend because of your appearance? Look in the mirror before you judge someone's beauty..." - Mike tries to bring reason to this mess, but the words scatter in the air like an empty sound. "Well, you're definitely running into it..." Roman replies, hinting at possible consequences. Suddenly, a teacher enters the classroom, and Roman, being a skilled manipulator, quickly twists the situation, putting Mike under attack. "Teacher, our new friend is humiliating our Jennifer," Roman declares, pointing at Mike. Strategically winking at Jennifer, he deftly draws her into his game of silent complicity. But Mike is not going to be silent and breaks out in anger, starting to explain what really happened. The teacher, unperturbed, asks Mike to take his place and give him his diary. "Ask your parents to come tomorrow, we need to talk about your behavior," the teacher says, giving Mike a serious look, the personification of authority and justice. "Damn, damn ... romance..." Mike whispers darkly to himself, plunging deep into the world of his thoughts, where sinister intentions begin to take shape, turning him into the executor of fate, the god of the universe. But all these are just fantasies, mind games that have no real power. Roman suddenly turns to Mike, sending him a sign symbolizing death or something similar, and then aptly throws a note. On the piece of paper it was written: "I'm waiting for you after school today, defender of the freaks!" — the words, fueled by hidden meaning and defiance, hung in the air, creating a tense atmosphere of expectation and struggle.

***

Under the overcast sky of the lesson's conclusion, the tension between Mike and Roman reached its limit. A vortex of negative energy surrounded them like a dark halo, foreshadowing something sinister. Step by step, like two predators, they were replaced by provocations and aggression. The street cast shadows, and only one window radiated warmth, penetrating through the glass, like the last greetings from a bygone day. Mike, wrapped in sadness, drew attention to this light as the last hope in a world of darkness. "Meet me, Mike, in another world, if you prove worthy," Roman hissed, transferring his sinister smile to the face of a silent rival. Banging his head against the wall sounded like a hymn of cruelty, making Mike's heart pound in his chest. The light was fading; darkness had engulfed his consciousness. With a faint detached piece of reality, Mike felt his body pressed to the ground, and then, like a sacrifice on an altar, he was chained in connection with the Novel. When he woke up on the land of the abandoned courtyard, he realized that this was only the beginning of a nightmare. "Hello, Mike," came the ominous echo of the collapsed building. Tyler, Roman's faithful servant, brought a mysterious object filled with darkness and painful memories to his face. It was the first time Mike had encountered Roman's greed, but his heart, hardened with fear, had a premonition of evil to come. "Now you're in my hands, Mike," Roman hissed, pulling out a sharp blade from under his cloak, playing with lights. The gleam of the moon reflected on the blade as Roman approached Mike, like a devil ready to drown him in the abyss of his cruelty. "Your life is in my hands, Mike. Will you show fortitude? Or would you rather die here and now?" — Roman brought the blade to Mike's throat, as if anticipating the dance of death. In the darkness of the abandoned building, the whispers of betrayal and a dead soul sounded, and Mike's heart stood up for a moment, waiting for his tragic decision. Roman tensely lifts his leg, preparing for an ominous blow to Mike's leg, but something changes in his decision at the last moment. It was something mysterious that made him hold back. The seconds dragged by slowly, filling the space with uncertainty. "You see, Mike, fate is deciding in your favor," Roman whispered, his voice sounding like an echo of a terrible premonition. His eyes searched for something with a gaze that seemed lost in time and space. Leaning to the side, he refused to strike, as if realizing that forces beyond his understanding were playing this dark game. Mike felt a throb of pain in his leg, emanating from the momentary threat, but at the same time, relief that permeated his body like a warm breath in the cold darkness. In this world of pressure and fear, something incomprehensible appeared between them, which sparkled like fire in the darkness. The two opposing silhouettes, framed by the darkness that deepened their secrets, felt a shaky interweaving of feelings and emotions. Roman and Mike's gazes crossed like swords on a battlefield, but at that moment the air was filled with an unthinkable tension that seemed to be waiting for a deafening rupture. Mystery mixed with fate, creating an amazing combination between enmity and fate, throwing Mike and Roman into a whirlwind of dramatic confrontation, where each next step could be the last. And Roman's dark heart, scorched by the fire of uncertainty, felt that luck was flirting with them, leaving a secret trace in their harsh fate. Suddenly, Tyler walks up to Roman, his eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky. "How noble of you, Roman," he grumbled, with a searching look. Suddenly, he grabbed a pair of scissors from a forgotten drawer and, with the blade of an amputation surgeon, cut off the ropes that bound Mike. Mike, having freed his legs, got a sudden rush of adrenaline and exclaimed smartly: "Thank you, Tyler! I'm running without looking back! But remember, if you catch up with me, I will wait for you in the next world and definitely prepare my samovar for the guests!" and with these words he rushed to the exit, leaving behind a startled Roman and a amusingly amazed Tyler, whose eyes widened in surprise. The light babble of disappearing footsteps echoed off the walls until Mike disappeared from sight, leaving behind a trail of fun and confusion. Mike raced from the abandoned area, his heart beating so fast, as if it was trying to catch up with his legs. Swirls of dust rose behind him, enveloping him in the past events of the evening. Every step was a test, but he ran, trying to get home, where he could finally figure out everything that had happened. This day could have turned out differently... Mike prayed that his mom was at home to comfort and understand him. The sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving the streets in the grip of darkness, as if every shadow wrapped Mike in the embrace of fear. Step by step, he continued on his way, trying to protect himself from an unknown threat, Roman's words buzzing in his ears, making his heart pound with unnatural force. Fate seemed intertwined with the unknown, and it seemed to Mike that in order to solve this mystery, it was necessary to reveal every detail. He knew he had to find out more about the girl he was abusing. Walking through the door of the house, Mike intensely inhaled the smell of homemade cakes, which filled the air with warmth and comfort. Running to the refrigerator, he took a whole bottle of water, quenching his thirst, and suddenly felt closer to home than ever. The aroma of freshly baked pies poured out of the kitchen, reminding me of childhood and serenity. And so, Mom was at home, and it sounded like the most beautiful piece of music. Mike couldn't hide his happiness, rushed to her and hugged her hard. "Son, what happened?" my mother asked in amazement. "It's just… I love you, Mom," Mike whispered, not letting her out of his arms. "I love you too, son," my mother said tenderly, while noticing that there was a small bruise on Mike's head. However, she did not pay much attention to this, because her heart is full of love and care. "Go on, Mike, eat!" my mother ordered, pointing to a delicious cinnamon apple pie that sparkled on the kitchen table, as if inviting her son to a feast. *** After dinner, having satisfied his hunger with a fragrant apple pie, Mike retired to his room. At his desk, among books and notebooks, he began to write lines of poetry casually, as if trying to catch the elusive feelings raging in his soul.

Verse 11.01.2027

This day is gray and heavy,

The clouds, as if mocking, shone with rainbow colors.

I didn't know what was wrong with my fate.,

Why is life so cruel to me?

The pain enveloped me like a flame,

And I stood in front of the fire, powerless.

Protecting a girl at school is my decision,

I sincerely thought that I was doing the right thing.

But the answer was humiliation and pain,

And all thanks to Roman.

As always, he made fun of me.,

Making me small and helpless.

Despite all the difficulties and pain,

I'm not giving up, I'm standing firm.

I breathe this air, and in my heart

The light of hope fades.

My hatred of Roman is growing,

But I won't let it consume me.

I will fight, believe and hope,

That one day everything will change,

And the clouds will become bright again,

And the gray day will turn into a rainbow one.

***

Darkness fell over the city like a thick, viscous pall. Mike, exhausted by the events of the day, sank into sleep, each breath dragging him deeper into the abyss of dreams. But this night was not like the others. A voice, hoarse as the rustle of old parchment paper, whispered from the very depths of his mind, weaving words into the fabric of sleep. An unknown force was pulling Mike along with it, through the winding corridors of the subconscious, to the boundaries of reality. The body did not resist, it itself aspired to meet the call, like a puppet, obeying invisible threads. Bizarre patterns danced in Mike's eyes, shadow symbols that looked like ancient runes. He got out of bed like a sleepwalker, wearing only shorts, and slipped out of the house into the darkness. The streets were deserted, except for the occasional passing car, leaving ghostly traces of headlights and the rustle of tires on the asphalt. Mike's legs carried him forward on their own, as if following a pre-laid route. He stopped in front of an abandoned gun store. Roman stood nearby, leaning against the peeling wall. His dark curls hid the scars, and there was what looked like a bloodstain on his neck. He was holding a shotgun in his hands, as if it were an extension of his body. The scent of danger was all around, cold and metallic. "Well, well, who do I see! A naked novice decided to take a walk?" — Roman's voice was sharp as the rasp of metal. "I don't advise you to go to Jennifer, I warned you," Roman's words sounded threatening. The next moment, he was gone. Mike felt the cold metal at his throat. Roman materialized behind him, holding a miniature knife in his hand, glinting in the moonlight. A jerk, a push — and Mike flew to the side, like a doll that was thrown to the ground. His face smashed into the asphalt, leaving scratches and trickles of blood on his cheek. Roman was there again. "Do you think it's easy to control this power, Mike? Is the blood on your hands not your fault? Don't you remember anything at all? How did you kill your parents?" "What are you talking about?!" — Mike tried to resist, but Roman held him in a death grip. "You are me, Mike. The power sleeps inside you. Wake her up!" — Roman dragged Mike to a small puddle formed after the rain. He grabbed him by the head and forcefully dipped him into the water. "Wake up! Show your strength!" his eyes burned with a fanatical gleam. Roman raised his hand, and a gray flame flashed between his fingers, unlike anything Mike had seen before. Flames wrapped around Mike, lifting him into the air. "Do you understand how you got here, Mike?! Remember this lesson!" Roman's voice boomed like thunder. He pushed Mike away, throwing him out of sleep like a stone from a sling. Mike rushed through the emptiness of his subconscious, breaking the sound barrier of the invisible world. He woke up in his bed, gasping for thirst. The morning sun was just beginning to break through the cracks in the curtains. 6:00 a.m., January 12, 2027. "What was that? What a terrible dream..." — Mike felt pain all over his body. The memories of the dream were vivid, like the fragments of a broken mirror. He hurried to the bathroom. A stranger was looking at him in the mirror. There were red scratches on his cheek, and on his neck... there was something that looked like a scar, exactly like Roman's. "How did I get into his dream? And why did I get this scar? We need to figure it out..." — Mike was determined to get to the truth. "The main thing is that Mom doesn't see," he thought, covering the scar with a long bang. He washed up quickly, forgot about brushing his teeth, pulled on his clothes and ran outside. The school was waiting. Along the way, he came across Roman's gang. "Hey, defender of the freaks! Come here! We're not done yet!" Roman's voice sounded ominous. — I can't believe it! Roman's eyes widened as if he saw a unicorn grazing in the schoolyard. "Are you a telepath now, Mikey?" Did you decide to look into my dreams? And he left me a scar as a souvenir! He ran a finger defiantly over his scar, as if it were a military merit medal. As always, Roman was surrounded by his loyal henchmen, thugs, ready to turn Mike's life into a nightmare at the first order. But today, even they looked a little dumbfounded. It's like they just found out that their scary leader collects teddy bears. Mike, feeling mutant butterflies fluttering in his stomach, tried to stay calm. "I don't understand anything myself! It was just a dream... a strange dream… Maybe you watched some movies for the night?" he managed, trying to keep from laughing hysterically. — Movies? Roman chuckled phlegmatically. "Are you saying that I'm killing your parents in my sleep now?" Cool story! Stephen Kang is resting. He squinted, as if trying to see a hidden threat in Mike. "Let's not make a big deal out of a molehill," Mike took a step back. — Maybe it's just a coincidence? Scars, dreams... you never know what happens! — He felt that he was losing control of the situation, as if he had been given a horror movie script and had forgotten the words. A coincidence? Roman grinned, showing a row of snow—white teeth. "Maybe you're a wizard, Mikey." Or a mutant with telepathic abilities? He took a step towards Mike, and the shadows from his goons seemed to lengthen, turning into menacing claws. Mike felt his cheeks burn, as if he had swallowed a fiery ember. His fingers darted to his collar by themselves, pulling it higher, trying to hide the scar on his neck. It was as if he had turned into a gopher hiding nuts from a hungry hawk. "What are you hiding there, Mikey?" Roman leaned forward, his eyes glittering like a cat who had noticed a laser pointer. — Are you really shy about your new jewelry? Mike swallowed, feeling a lump the size of a walnut stuck in his throat. "No, it's just cold..." he muttered, taking a step back. "The wind is nasty today..." He prayed that Roman would not notice how his fingers were shaking. — The wind? Roman chuckled. — And I thought you were afraid that your little secret would be revealed. That you're not just a nerd, but something more... interesting. He took another step, and now they were only a few centimeters apart. —You know, Mikey, there are people who study things like you... your gift... your connection to me..." His voice was low, almost conspiratorial. Mike felt a chill run down his spine. He instinctively backed away, tripping over his own feet. "What are you talking about? What kind of people? What kind of gift?" "Don't pretend, Mikey," Roman grinned. — I see that you are not like everyone else. You're special. And we will definitely find out how much. He turned abruptly and gestured majestically at the school gates. "Now go to your lessons, Mikey. We still have a lot to discuss." The school hours dragged on like rubber from the Hulk's underpants. Algebra, physics, history... Mike felt like a bug, crushed by the weight of the granite of science. But all his thoughts were focused on the upcoming meeting with Roman. The bell finally rang, freeing the students from the captivity of educational tasks. Mike left the classroom with a heavy sigh. Roman's gang was already waiting for him in the corridor. — Well, Mikey, are you ready for a frank conversation? Roman grinned, his eyes glittering like a predator cornering its prey. Mike took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wasn't a cowardly rabbit. He abruptly pulled back the collar of his sweatshirt, revealing a scar on his neck. "Here, look! He blurted out. — I do not know how he appeared! Maybe I'm really some kind of... unusual?" Roman examined the scar, squinting. His minions whispered like a flock of crows scenting blood. "Hmm... interesting...— Roman drawled. — Very interesting… It looks like we were not mistaken. There's really something about you, Mikey." "But what does it mean?" Mike felt his heart beat faster. "It means, Mikey," Roman smiled, and his smile was like a wolf's grin, "that you have to learn a lot about yourself. And we will help you with this. Roman snapped his fingers, and his gang, like a pack of hyena dogs released from a cage, attacked Mike. They pushed him out of the school gates, into a dark alley where the cold and the smell of dampness reigned. The blows rained down, without mercy or mercy. Mike tried to defend himself, but the forces were unequal. He felt the bone in his hand crack, and pain shot through his body like a bolt of lightning. Nobody! Never! He does not dare to enter my dream! Roman's voice sounded above him like the cawing of a raven. — Do you understand, puppy?! Your gift is a mistake of nature! You're a fool who can't control your strength! Mike was choking on pain and fear. He saw only blurred silhouettes in front of him, heard only the sounds of blows and angry laughter. Consciousness was leaving him, dragging him into a dark abyss. "I didn't want to... be in your dreams again... I'm sorry..." the words came out of Mike's throat with a whistle, as if the air was coming out of a punctured tire. He lay on the ground like a stranded fish, his body shuddering in pain, his clothes soaked in blood. The world around him was narrowing, turning into a dark, pulsating blur. Roman kicked him, as if checking to see if he was still alive. "This is a lesson for you, Mikey," he said through gritted teeth. — If you get into my dream again, you'll regret it. And yes, say hi to your parents when you see them!" He turned and disappeared into the twilight, taking his gang with him like a pack of wolves fed up with prey. The hours dragged on, turning into days. Mike was lying in a cold alley, shivering with pain and cold. He tried to get up, but his broken arm pierced him with fire, like a samurai sword plunged into flesh. Every breath was a dull, aching pain in his chest. The world around him turned into a mixture of fog and pain, and consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind. Darkness gathered around Mike, as if trying to swallow him whole. He no longer felt pain, only a chill that penetrated to the bones. Consciousness was fading like the last sparks of a campfire flooded with water. And at that moment, when he was ready to give up, he heard a voice. — Hey! Are you alive?! The voice was high—pitched, a little scared. Someone bent over him, thin fingers touched his cheek. — God, you're covered in blood! We need to call an ambulance! Mike opened his eyes. A girl's face bent over him. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and big, expressive eyes. She took her phone out of her purse and started talking, her voice trembling with excitement. — Hello, ambulance? There's a young man here, he's injured, he needs help! Yes, he is unconscious, his whole body is bruised, his arm is broken... where? In the alley behind the school... please hurry up! Mike tried to say something, but his lips wouldn't obey him. The girl smiled at him, her smile was like a ray of light in the dark. — Hush, hush... don't talk… The doctors will come soon, they will help you… You'll be fine.… Her words were soothing, like a warm wave rolling onto the shore. Mike closed his eyes again, now he knew that he wasn't alone, that someone was taking care of him. A siren wailed in the distance, approaching faster and faster, as if hope itself was rushing to his aid. The ambulance siren cut through the silence of the night like the cry of a frightened bird. The medics quickly and deftly lifted Mike onto the stretcher, their movements honed by years of practice. The girl sat next to him in the car, her eyes never leaving his face, pale and exhausted. "Just hold on,— she whispered, squeezing his hand. — You're strong, you can handle it.… Mike could feel her warmth giving him strength. He opened his eyes, tried to smile, but his lips only trembled slightly. The car sped through the night streets, the red lights of the signal beacons reflected in the windows of the houses, like lightning tearing through the darkness. Everything in the hospital was permeated with an atmosphere of urgency and tension. Mike was quickly taken to the operating room, the bright light blinded him. The girl remained waiting in the hallway, nervously clutching her purse in her hands. Her heart was clenched with anxiety, she walked endlessly back and forth like a caged animal. The hours dragged on endlessly. Finally, the doctor came out of the operating room, tired but satisfied. "He's going to live,— he told the girl. — The fracture is serious, but we managed. He needs rest and care. The girl breathed a sigh of relief, tears of joy glistened in her eyes. — Can I see him? "What is it?" she asked. —Of course," the doctor smiled. — But only for a short time. He needs to rest. The girl entered the room. Mike was lying on the bed, pale but alive. His arm was fixed with a cast, but he smiled when he saw it. —Thank you," he whispered. — You saved my life. "I should be thanking you," the girl said, her voice trembling with excitement. — You gave me a chance to do something good. Now tell me, what happened? Who beat you up like that? Mike told her everything. About the Novel, about the strange dream, about his gift, which he did not even know about. The girl listened to him attentively, her eyebrows furrowed, as if she was trying to solve a complex riddle. "This is incredible," she said when Mike had finished his story. "It looks like you're into something serious." But don't worry, I'll help you figure it out. We'll figure out what's going on together.

Part 1.1. Nightmares on the Streets of Carter City: An Episode from Tyler's Life

The first ray of sunlight clumsily pierced a crack in the curtains, turning the dust in the air golden. Tyler jumped out of bed, blinking against the unaccustomed light. The chair, creaking with displeasure, became the first step on the way to the window. The second step is a kitchen table covered with sticky oilcloth. Tyler, balancing on tiptoe, barely reached for the latch. The window, yielding reluctantly, let in fresh air and the hubbub of the awakening city. Tyler ducked under the table, groping for a familiar pack. She was lying where her father always left her — behind a box of Christmas toys, covered with a layer of dust and cobwebs. "The Ministry of Health warns..." — the inscription on the pack was almost erased, and the creepy pictures of diseased lungs were disgusting. The smell of ammonia seemed to have seeped into the paper itself, but Tyler, accustomed to the acrid ambergris of his father's predilections, did not even flinch. He was playing an adult, a serious man who knows what he's doing. The click of a lighter stolen from my father's chest of drawers rang out in the morning silence like a shot. Tyler narrowed his eyes and took his first drag. A cough, dry and ragged, burst from his chest, forcing him to double over. What an abomination! He muttered, spitting a mixture of saliva and ashes on the floor. — And how does he smoke them? A cough, like a thunderclap, pulled Tyler out of his imaginary world. He stumbled over his own feet and rushed to the dresser, grabbing a pack of wet wipes. The saliva with ashes, smeared on the floor with a careless movement of his hand, quickly disappeared under a wet napkin. Tyler straightened up and strutted to the table, imagining himself as a detective from old movies that he watched at night when his father fell asleep in an armchair in front of the TV. The floor lamp, switched on with a flick of a toggle switch, directed its yellow beam at the window, like a searchlight picking out a suspect from the darkness. So, you are suspected of brutally beating a young man named Mike," Tyler lowered his voice, giving him the steely hardness that he had seen from movie detectives. — Your words will be used against you in court. He paused, enjoying the sound of his own voice echoing in the morning silence of the room. A sudden knock on the door shattered the atmosphere of the detective agency, making Tyler jump as if stung. The window, slammed shut with one sharp movement, emitted a plaintive creak. The floor lamp went out with a flick of the switch, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Yes, come on in," Tyler croaked, struggling to get his voice back to normal. His throat, strained by detective intonations, protested. The door opened a crack, and Mom came into the room, her gaze immediately fell on the open window. Son, you can't do that! She shook her head reproachfully. — You're going to catch a cold! In one T-shirt and in these thin pants… Tyler, sulking with displeasure, tried to defend his image of a tough detective. Mom, well, all detectives dress like that! — he declared with an air of importance. Mom, barely suppressing a smile, sat down on the edge of the bed. Have you seen enough of Dad's detective stories again? "What is it?" she asked, patting him affectionately on the head. No, no, what kind of detectives... — Tyler, realizing the futility of his arguments, waved his hand. — In cartoons, maximum! Okay, son, lunch is on the table," Mom sighed and straightened up. — I have to go to work. She hugged Tyler tightly, kissed him on the cheek, leaving a trail of fresh lipstick on it. Oh, yes," she remembered, already standing at the door. — Roman called. He asked if you were going out for a walk today. The click of the lock and Mom, enveloped in a cloud of floral perfume, disappeared through the door. Tyler, left in the silence of the empty apartment, walked over to the wall where his phone was on the charger. Hi, Romchik," he began, dialing a number and holding the phone to his ear. — I'm sorry, of course, but I won't be here today. I found a little side job. Roman's voice sounded disappointed on the phone. Well, that's it, Ty! I had so many plans! Especially Mike, the new guy.… There is information that he, like, visited my dream. And a scar appeared on my neck. Tyler felt a chill run down his spine. Scars from dreams… What kind of nonsense is this? I'm sorry, Rom,— he repeated, trying to make his voice sound convincing. — But I'm really busy. Business, brother, business! Tyler, hearing about the scars from his dreams, hurriedly hung up, throwing the phone on the table. Thinking about Mike and his strange abilities made him feel uncomfortable. "We need to stay away from this guy," he decided, heading into the room. A closet full of clothes greeted him with a colorful kaleidoscope of colors and textures. Tyler fished out his favorite jeans, a white shirt, and a black jacket from this messy pile. The shoes, carefully polished to a shine, were waiting for their hour on the shelf below. "Everything for the perfect man!" flashed through his mind with intonations worthy of advertising an elite shampoo. Tyler chuckled at his own joke. A sense of humor is another touch to the portrait of the ideal man he imagined himself to be. You won't find such an ideal guy during the day with fire, he thought proudly, buttoning his shirt. The hands of the clock have already passed noon. 13:00 is the time when Tyler, full of enthusiasm and thirst for activity, went to his first job in his life. The Biotech Hospital, towering like a giant of glass and steel in the heart of Carter City, was the place where the wonders of technology were born. It was here that robots were created, designed to make life easier for doctors, to become their indispensable assistants. But the database on which the work of these high-tech assistants was based was outdated, required serious refinement and expansion. And who, if not Tyler, with his inimitable talent in the field of programming, could cope with this task? After all, he has repeatedly proved his skills by helping classmates, adults, and even elderly people with their computer problems. "Clever girl, she can do it!" they think proudly, heading for the hospital. Tyler walked confidently through the glittering corridors of the hospital, filled with the quiet hum of working equipment. The voice of the virtual assistant embedded in his phone sounded right in his head, creating the effect of a telepathic connection. —Hello, Tyler," the voice was pleasant, with a slight metallic tinge. — Many employees speak about you with delight. They say that despite your young age, you have already saved more than a hundred thousand lives! Tyler grinned, imagining himself as the hero of a science fiction movie surrounded by grateful patients. "Well, not a hundred thousand, of course," he thought, "but he definitely pulled a couple dozen out of the clutches of virtual death!" After all, he has repeatedly helped create programs for medical robots that performed complex operations with incredible accuracy. And precision in surgery is the key to saving lives. — So, Tyler, — the man at the table steepled his chubby fingers, carefully examining Tyler over the top of his glasses. — Tell me about yourself. Who are you? And why did you decide to get such a serious job? This is not a kindergarten, you know! It's dangerous! The man abruptly leaned back in his chair, as if afraid that Tyler would now rush at him shouting: "Bang-bang, you're dead!" "I forgot to introduce myself,— he added, clearing his throat. — Victor Bonney. Yes, the surname is so-so, but I am a serious person. Tyler resisted the urge to laugh. Bonnie looked like a school nerd who had suddenly been turned into a grown man without even giving his hands a chance to wash. But nerds always wash their hands, don't they? —Well, I'm Tyler," he began, trying to sound as serious as possible. —I live in Carter City... well, not in the very center, of course..." he felt himself blushing. "A talented boy from a poor neighborhood," Bonnie finished for him, nodding with the air of a connoisseur. — I see.… So why did you decide to join us? Aren't you afraid of robots? They bite sometimes, you know. —You know," Tyler leaned forward, giving his face an expression of mystery, "I'm kind of a robot myself. I'm sitting here, setting up my phone," he tapped the screen with his finger, trying to make it perfect. But they create them initially imperfect, you know? Tyler paused, enjoying the effect of his words. Bonnie was listening intently, his eyes wide. — Phones are learning devices! Tyler continued, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper. — You can even make a monster out of it! It is enough to give him free rein on the Internet… He fell silent again, imagining how crowds of zombie smartphones were taking over the city. "But there are no such models in our city," Tyler said regretfully. — I personally created these works and... destroyed them. Because no one is worthy of such inventions. He straightened up, giving his face the expression of a stern detective who has seen the horrors of robots more than once. Bonnie seemed ready to hide under the table. "Enough of your jokes, Tyler," Victor Bonney leaned forward sharply, and his shadow lay on the table like a thundercloud. — I see you're a serious guy. I noticed it right away from your assistant... in my head. Bonnie tapped his temple significantly with his finger, as if to demonstrate his insight. "You see," he smiled maliciously, "I know more than you think. So let's not do any tricks. Who are you? And why did you come here? He tried to scare Tyler by imagining how he, pale with horror, would take off and rush back to his boring school. — No one dares to scare me with such trifles! Understood? Bonnie growled, getting up from the table. His shadow grew even larger, filling the room with a gloomy atmosphere. Tyler raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. — Never mind. Let's get to work, and I'm off to work! He tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, eager to get down to business as soon as possible. He was already tired of all these detective games. Victor Bonney noted with satisfaction that he had managed to rein in the cheeky boy. He took out a thick folder marked "Database 3.0" from a stack of papers and handed it to Tyler. —Well done," he said with a grin. — And now go to the local laboratory, in the next room. All the necessary equipment is waiting for you there. Bonnie pointed to a heavy metal door with a small window covered with steel mesh. From behind the door came a soft humming and metallic screeching - the sounds accompanying the work of robots. Tyler, clutching a hefty folder with a database in his hands, walked up to the massive door of the laboratory. The metallic clang that accompanied the opening of the door seemed to announce the arrival of an important person. The first thing that caught his eye wasn't the robots lined up against the opposite wall, or the holographic screens flashing colorful graphs. No, the first thing he saw were the girls. There are many beautiful girls dressed in white robes, with tablets in their hands. They scurried between the robots, giving commands and making adjustments to the programs. Only in the very corner of the laboratory was a group of men swarming, trying to fit a new manipulator claw to a prototype of some kind of robot. — Hey, look who's here! A clear voice rang out. — Little Tyler! One of the girls, with bright red hair pulled back in a high ponytail, broke away from the group and headed towards Tyler. "Please don't call me 'little Tyler,'" he countered, trying not to sound too offended. — Just Tyler. — Oh, oh, oh, how formidable! The girl burst out laughing. — Okay, just Tyler. My name is Mia. Let's get to know each other! She squatted down in front of him, reached out and shook his hand tightly. — Stop babbling, Mia! A stern voice came from behind. — A little more and this robot will break! Tyler turned around. Another girl was approaching them, this time with dark hair in a braid. Her face expressed an extreme degree of concentration. — Okay, okay, — Mia got up from her squats. — The main thing is that you don't go crazy, Lily. —Tyler,— Lilia whirled around to face him, her dark eyes glittering with annoyance. — They say here that you know about robots. Tell me, what's wrong with that? No one can give a clear answer! Even these dummies..." she waved her hand dismissively at the swarming men, "don't understand anything! She shoved a tablet under Tyler's nose, on which a long list of errors was displayed in red letters. Tyler, a little confused by this pressure, began to study the error log. — I will ask you not to express yourself in front of the child! A gruff voice rang out from the crowd of disabled robots. One of the men, tall and broad-shouldered, with a displeased look on his face, walked towards them. — Come on, be quiet! Tyler, unexpectedly for himself, loudly slammed the folder on the table. The girls stopped talking in surprise and stared at him. — Let me think! Lily, a little embarrassed, stepped aside. Mia, on the contrary, approached Tyler, curiously watching his actions. The man muttered something under his breath and returned to the disabled robot. Tyler ignored everyone around him and focused on the error log. Numbers and codes, like pieces of a mysterious puzzle, flashed before his eyes. He looked through the lines of errors, trying to grasp the logic in this chaos. Suddenly, his gaze stopped at an unusual sequence of characters. "It's strange..." he thought. "It looks like a self—modifying code." "Mia," he said to the girl, "do you have access to the source code of this model?" Mia quickly found the file on her tablet and forwarded it to Tyler's phone. Tyler opened the file and began to study the code. It was harder than he expected, but Tyler felt he was on the right track. He made a few changes, optimized some processes, then saved the changes and sent them back to Mia's tablet. "Try it now,— he said. Mia wasted no time uploading the updated code to the robot. The laboratory was filled with anxiety and tension. Everyone watched with bated breath as the robot's eyes blinked with a bright blue light, and its mechanical fingers moved. —The system is loaded," a melodious female voice sounded from the robot's speakers. — Greetings to you. My name is Aurora. The men in the corner of the lab looked at each other in disbelief. Lilia batted her eyelashes in confusion. Mia clapped her hands happily. — It worked! She exclaimed. — It's working! Tyler watched with a smile as Aurora, an artificial intelligence encased in a metal robot body, took her first steps. He felt proud of his work, for helping to bring this amazing creature back to life. Aurora blinked her bright blue eyes and looked around the laboratory. Her metal fingers trembled slightly. "My system is... operating in a limited mode," she said uncertainly, her voice sounding slightly hoarse, as if she had just woken up from a long sleep. "I... don't fully understand who I am." And what is my purpose... in this laboratory. She paused, as if listening to her own feelings. — But... I feel a threat... a threat to life... for a person, Aurora continued, her voice becoming anxious. "Please... do something." Aurora finished her sentence, and a heavy silence fell in the laboratory. Everyone looked at the robot in disbelief, trying to figure out what she meant. Suddenly, the sharp ringing of the phone cut through the silence. Startled, Mia hurriedly took out her phone from the pocket of her robe. - Yes? She pressed the phone to her ear. Her face gradually turned paler and her eyes widened in horror. — Yes... yes... I understand… Mia disconnected the call and abruptly turned to the others. "It's an ambulance,— she blurted out, her voice shaking. — An injured guy was found in the alley behind the school… He's unconscious... he needs urgent help! Without wasting a second, she rushed to the exit of the laboratory. — I'll be right back! She shouted as she walked. — We need to send an ambulance for him!

Somewhere on the other side of the line, a girl with long dark hair continued to talk to the ambulance dispatcher with alarm in her voice:

— Hello, ambulance? There's a young man here, he's injured, he needs help! Yes, he is unconscious, his whole body is bruised, his arm is broken... where? In the alley behind the school... please hurry up!

Part 1.1. Nightmares on the Streets of Carter City: A Cure for Death

The night that tightly enveloped Carter City seemed to be trying to hide its secrets under its velvet veil, only occasionally allowing moonlight to break through the thick curtain of clouds. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Mike, barely suppressing his growing excitement, listened to Tyler's voice coming from the speakers built into the walls. Tyler's voice, as if filtered through an old radio, suddenly became clear, "you've managed to get caught up in some crazy maelstrom of events. But what was the impetus for this chaos? Mike, feeling the pain in his broken arm gradually subside, tried to focus his gaze on the snow-white ceiling. Thoughts, like a flock of frightened birds, raced erratically in his head. — Where the hell am I? And what's going on with me? It flashed through his mind before he could get a word out. The girl sitting by his bed was watching him anxiously. Her dark eyes seemed to be trying to penetrate to the very depths of his consciousness. "Hush, hush..." she whispered, her voice like a silk thread sliding along the edge of his consciousness. "Don't strain yourself. You need to rest. Everything will be fine. I promise. Her hand, warm and soft, rested on his palm, and he felt a wave of comfort spread through his body. One day you will hear my voice again, Mike," the voice that penetrated Mike's consciousness became quieter, as if receding, disappearing into thin air. "And you'll be glad to see me again… I'm sure your fate has already been written... by someone much more… The voice stopped abruptly, turning into an unintelligible noise. Then there was a cough, a muffled sound of falling, and Tyler's familiar voice, a little scared: — Hello? Mia? Do you hear me? There's some... nonsense going on here… — Tyler? It's you? — Mike, gathering the last of his strength, turned his head towards the source of the sound. — What are you doing here? Where is Roman? And his gang? The words that escaped from his throat echoed off the walls of the ward, dissolving into the oppressive silence. The girl, hearing his voice, started up like a frightened deer. — Mike, you've come to your senses! She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. — Thank God! We were so worried! At that moment, Tyler's voice seemed to burst out of the speakers and filled the room. — Mike, how did you recognize me? "What is it?" he asked, a mixture of surprise and alarm in his voice. "Your stupid humor," Mike croaked, "can be learned from a thousand." By the way, I'm almost dying here! Are you kidding… —Well, don't be dramatic," Tyler replied, a cheerful note in his voice. — We fixed you up. You will be more alive than all the living! We've injected you with a cure for death. It's such a nano-liquid… There's a bunch of micro-droids floating in it... well, like microbe-sized robots. You can't see them, but they regenerate your cells... make you practically invulnerable. The only thing you won't have, — these are claws made of high-strength alloy. And so... you're practically a superhero now! Tyler spoke with the enthusiasm of a child showing off a new toy. "I don't even know what to tell you, Tyler," Mike frowned, his voice sounding annoyed. - "Thank you? Thanks? A low bow? You see, I can't get up! Why couldn't you make me get back on my feet faster?! And you checked out of here as soon as possible?! "Is that all you're grateful for?" Tyler's voice was as cold as steel. - "Really? Dude, that's not fair! It's okay that you can't get up right now. It will pass. Micro-robots need time to adapt with your cells. And this, you know, is not the fastest process." Tyler spoke with the intonation of a TV presenter broadcasting the latest news: — We continue to monitor the situation and will inform you of any changes. "Mind you, Mike, I saved your life!" Tyler's voice regained its triumphant tone. "Your hand... will be as good as new in a couple of days! Even cooler! You won't recognize it! If Roman had insisted… I'd be with his gang. And you would have been killed on the spot. Can you imagine? And so... you're alive! Alive, dude!" At that moment, Mike felt a surge of incredible strength. The body, as if freed from invisible shackles, was filled with energy. He sat up in bed, feeling only a slight tingling at the fracture site. My arm didn't hurt anymore. The deformed bones still bulged under the skin, but the blood vessels and nerves seemed to be intact. The blood pulsed in his veins with unprecedented force. —What the hell was that?" gasped Mike, looking at his hand. - "I feel... strange… But how...?" Tyler, who was watching the scene through the surveillance cameras, whistled. — Wow! And they say there are no miracles!"

At the same time, a scene worthy of a Hollywood thriller was unfolding in Victor Bonney's office.

The man burst into the office, breathing heavily. He was clutching a folder with sheets of graphs and diagrams sticking out of it. "Boss, you need to take a look at this!" He blurted out, throwing the folder on the table. — This folder contains all the information that we have collected over the past few hours. Do you remember this Tyler? So, he activated our robot! Here, look at her characteristics! She claims that she is... more than a human and a robot! He poked at the pages with Aurora's data, his face expressing a mixture of fear and indignation. Victor Bonney, calmly continuing to study the documents placed in front of him, calmly replied: "You could have knocked, Flint. Do you see what talented guys we have working for us? For five years, no one could activate this robot, and then bam! Tyler came and did everything in a few hours. Well, just a genius! Can we give him a grant? Under the guise of scientific, for outstanding achievements?.. Bonnie grinned slyly, his gaze, sharp as a scalpel blade, fixed on Aurora's data. "Well, we have a chance to increase our chances of winning..." he whispered, as if sharing a secret with himself. Victor Bonney, leaning back in his chair, watched Flint with a sly smile. Mischievous sparkles danced in his eyes, hidden behind thick glasses. —Flint, my friend," he began, his voice, velvety as expensive cognac, spreading through the office, "don't be such a bore. Look at this beauty. — Bonnie, with an almost theatrical gesture, took a flash drive out of his jacket pocket. It was of an unusual shape, resembling a miniature human heart, pulsating with a soft scarlet light. — CS.Bonny is elegant, isn't it? — he whispered, running his finger over the smooth surface of the flash drive. "There's special software here, my dear Flint. Instructions for the washing machine, so to speak. Bonnie winked, enjoying the effect of his words. Flint frowned at the flash drive in disbelief. — Victor, but this thing... it's... self-programmed. And has access to the Internet! He blurted out, finding his words with difficulty. "It's... illegal!" We promised we wouldn't... interfere.… —Flint, Flint," Victor Bonney laughed, his thunderous laugh shaking the walls of the office. — You're like a little one! Who is talking about intervention? We're just... helping. We share our experience. He held up his finger significantly. — For young fans of radio engineering. No more, no less. Flint clenched his fists and glared at Bonnie. — Victor, but this is a betrayal! Setting up the guys... Tyler... and that girl… — Betrayal? Bonnie raised an eyebrow, and there was a steely edge to his voice. — Do you think they are officially working? Of course not! They are," he lowered his voice to an ominous whisper, —agents. They've infiltrated. They disguised themselves. He paused, giving Flint time to digest this information. "Now," Bonnie snapped, "get out of my office and do your job." Otherwise… I'll fire you! Flint, without saying a word, grabbed the flash drive and rushed out the door as if scalded. Victor Bonney looked after him and smiled smugly. "Everything is going according to plan," he thought, leaning back in his chair. *** Night fell on Carter City, enveloping it in thick, viscous darkness, as if trying to hide the scars of the past under a veil of velvet. Trees stood on the streets, illuminated by the cold light of the moon—not just trees, but guardians of the city, silent witnesses to its turbulent history. Their emerald crowns, rustling in the wind, reminded of the times when Carter City was engulfed in flames of chaos and despair. In those terrible days, the echoes of which still echo in the hearts of residents, the city was torn apart by wars and famine. People, like animals, fought for every piece of bread, for a sip of clean water, for the right to survive in this hell. Cannibalism, once considered taboo, has become an eerie reality, a dark stain on the history of the city. But even in the darkest of times, there were those who did not lose hope. A new order has risen from the ashes of a destroyed world, like a phoenix, based on the power of ancient artifacts found in the ruins of the past. These artifacts, mysterious and powerful, have become the key to creating new technologies that can change nature itself. The trees planted on the streets of Carter City were not just decorations. They were living sensors, a sophisticated bioengineering system capable of purifying the air, controlling radiation levels and, most importantly, protecting the city from external threats. Microscopic sensors were hidden in their trunks, under a layer of bark, capable of detecting the slightest fluctuations in the air, recording sound waves, and analyzing the chemical composition of the atmosphere. These sensors, like nerve endings, transmitted information to the central control unit, where it was processed by the most complex algorithms created on the basis of knowledge gleaned from ancient artifacts. But there was also a dark side to this system. Hidden in the treetops, among the leaves, were miniature nano—robot bugs capable of imperceptibly recording conversations, tracking people's movements, and collecting information about every resident of Carter City. The initiator of the creation of this surveillance system was Victor, a man whose name was shrouded in mystery. He believed that only total control, only complete subordination, could guarantee the safety of the city. "To be safe, you need to know everything," Victor liked to repeat. And the trees, the silent guardians of Carter City, became his eyes and ears, an invisible net that entangled every street, every house, every person. Carter City basked in the illusion of security. From blue TV screens, from the pages of glossy magazines, from billboards that dotted the streets, they broadcast about the inaccessibility of the city, about wise leadership, about caring for every citizen. "You are safe," the smiling announcers assured, showing footage of blooming parks, modern hospitals, and schools equipped with the latest technology. Newspapers full of laudatory articles about the achievements of science and technology, about the growth of the economy, about the prosperity of the city, reinforced this illusion. Carter City is a paradise on earth, a bastion of stability in a world still shaking from the effects of global disasters. But through the sickly sweet melody of propaganda, like a crack in a perfectly polished facade, the voice of dissent broke through. The radio waves, which were not subject to strict censorship, carried whispers of doubt, the voices of those who did not believe the official version. "Collusion! — hissed the voices from the old receivers, — we are being deceived! Trees are not protection, but a surveillance tool! Conspiracy theories bloomed like poisonous mushrooms in the dark corners of the city. Secret subcultures that united those who did not want to put up with the imposed reality multiplied every day. "Give your soul to a God who does not exist," charismatic preachers broadcast from television screens. "And he will give you everything—wealth, power, freedom! Freedom from fear, freedom from doubt, freedom from oneself!" Some experts, risking their reputation, openly stated that such propaganda was a direct violation of basic laws and moral principles. But the laws, as you know, are written by the winners. And the winners in Carter City have long decided that the illusion of security is the best cure for chaos. In the heart of Carter City, the elite Dark Dawn Biotechnical Hospital towered like a steel scalpel slicing through living flesh. The walls, lined with black marble, reflected the cold glare of neon lights, creating an atmosphere of ominous mystery. It was here, in sterile laboratories equipped with the latest technology, that the "Cure for Chaos" was born — a tool for total control over the minds of the residents of Carter City. Dark Dawn scientists, using data collected over the years of research on mental injuries suffered by residents during the dark days of chaos, have created more than a hundred drugs capable of suppressing will, erasing memories, and forming beliefs. The "Cure for Death", a masterpiece of biotechnology capable of regenerating tissues and accelerating wound healing, was just one of the facets of this sinister project. The true goal of the creators of the "Cure for Chaos" is the complete subjugation of the consciousness of every resident of Carter City, the creation of a society of obedient puppets, unable to protest, to doubt, to the very idea of freedom. But chaos suddenly broke into this perfectly functioning system. The TV screen broadcasting the propaganda channel "TR. The truth" rippled, the sound distorted, turning into an unintelligible hissing noise. And through this chaos, like a cry from the abyss itself, a voice broke through — the voice of a man who defied the system. "Don't believe it! He shouted, his words distorted by the interference, sounding like a curse. — Even the closest ones! They will give! They will destroy it! The world is an illusion! The medicine is a lie! This is control! Total control!" A man's face flashed on the screen —haggard, with burning eyes that reflected despair and insane hope. "A hero is coming! He shouted before the camera abruptly shifted. "He will save us!" There was a thud, then silence, broken only by the crackle of static. On the screen, covered in blood, a motionless body froze — a victim of the system, who defied it at the cost of his own life. "Excuse me..." a voice echoed from the speakers before the screen went blank, leaving the audience in shock and bewilderment.

Part 1.1. Nightmares on Carter City Street: Roman

The first ray of sunlight that broke through the dirty window of an abandoned warehouse fell on Roman's face, making him wince. Yesterday's courage evaporated, leaving behind only a dry mouth and a sticky veil of hangover. He rolled over, trying to push away the nagging memory of last night. The abandoned place where he woke up stank of damp and mold. Roman opened his eyelids with difficulty. Dust swirled in the air, illuminated by the slanting rays of the morning sun. "Where the hell am I?" he muttered, trying to remember the events of the previous evening. The sudden ringing of his cell phone cut through the silence, startling him. The melody, which he himself had once downloaded and proudly dubbed the "winner's anthem", now seemed like a mockery. The phone vibrated and danced on the dirty concrete floor. Roman cursed and found it under a pile of empty beer cans. The caller's name appeared on the screen: "KaI" — the letter "L" was not displayed due to a crack on the screen. —Yes,— Roman croaked, trying to clear his throat. — Romka, where have you been? Kai's voice, hoarse with excitement, burst into his ears. — They're looking for you here... they say it's because of that guy… "What other guy?" Roman asked, feeling an unpleasant premonition grow in his chest. —Well, this... new... Mike,— Kai stammered, as if hesitating to continue. — They say you saw him yesterday... well, anyway... anyway, he's in the hospital. Roman felt a cold sweat break out on his back. The images of last night, scattered and hazy, began to form an ominous mosaic. The alley, the screams, the impact… — Damn it! He swore, jumping to his feet. — I asked you... without fanaticism… Kai swallowed nervously. — It's all these freaks... who screwed themselves up... as always… "Listen, Rom," Kai lowered his voice to a whisper, "you'd better go to school... talk to them... before things go too far."… Roman dropped the phone on the floor and kicked the empty beer can with all his might. Anger, mixed with fear, bubbled in him like lava in the mouth of a volcano. "Damn it! He thought. "Those assholes have ruined everything again!" He quickly took off his dirty clothes, leaving only his underpants. The body, covered with bruises and scratches — evidence of yesterday's "fun" — required a warm-up. Roman did a few push-ups, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Well, never mind," he whispered through his teeth, "I'll show them who's in charge here!" The sun has already risen over the city, flooding the streets of Carter City with bright light. It's a new day, and Roman already has a lot of problems. He came out of the abandoned building and headed towards the school, clenching his fists. Roman, turned into a fury in ragged family suits, strode through the sunlit Carter City. Every step he takes is the sound of a drum in the ears of fate. The park, which usually breathed the darkness and rustle of the pages of romance novels, greeted him with a chorus of hoarse voices. A group of homeless people, sitting on a bench under the shade of a spreading oak tree, first fell silent, and then burst into hoarse laughter. — Look, the eagle has arrived! An old man with a face pitted with wrinkles, like a map of a lost continent, croaked. — And what kind of fashion is it to walk around the city in underpants? A woman with faded hair that looked like an old washcloth chimed in. — My mom probably didn't teach me how to dress decent people in childhood! Roman stopped. His fists clenched by themselves, and dangerous sparks danced in his eyes. "Shut your rotten mouth, you old hag," he hissed, leaning toward her. — And don't teach me how to live! — Wow, how angry we are! The old man persisted, smiling maliciously. "I guess Mommy didn't teach you any manners either?" — Shut up! Roman snapped, feeling his anger boil in him like water in a kettle. — One more word about my mother and you will regret that you were born at all! The homeless, appreciating the fury in his eyes, quieted down. Roman, pleased with the effect he had produced, proudly straightened up and, casting a contemptuous glance at them, walked on. Luxury cars sailed by, reflecting the sun's glare in tinted windows and the silhouette of a half—naked guy - the ghost of rage on the sidewalk. The city was squeezing the last of Roman's patience out of him like a dirty rag. Kilometers of asphalt and concrete under bare feet, like a test prepared by fate itself. "Maybe Kai is right? A thought flashed suddenly, sharp as a razor blade. "Maybe they really wanted to help...?" The thought was so unexpected that Roman stopped for a moment, as if he had stumbled over an invisible obstacle. He looked around. The city, bathed in the morning sun, seemed alien and unfriendly. "This can't be happening! Roman shook his head, shaking off the delusion. — It's me. — Roman! A thunderstorm of the whole area! They should be afraid of me, not sorry for me!" He was almost at school. The building, gray and dreary, like a prison for young minds, towered in the distance. Snatches of conversation, laughter, and screeching reached Roman's ears—the familiar symphony of school life. Only today, this music seemed ominous to Roman, like the soundtrack to a horror movie. "Getting yourself in order is what's important right now," Roman decided, finally noticing his own reflection in the shop window. He looked like hell: tousled hair, a scratched face, and all this "splendor" in a frame of torn family books. "We need a plan... and preferably faster!" At that moment, his gaze fell on a narrow alley littered with garbage cans. In the depths of the alley, hiding from prying eyes, some guy was swarming. He was not richly dressed, but clean and tidy — just like Roman needed. The decision came instantly. Roman quietly, like a panther, slipped into the doorway. The guy, suspecting nothing, continued to rummage in his backpack. A sharp blow to the neck and he went limp, like a doll that suddenly ran out of steam. "Sorry, brother, it's nothing personal," Roman whispered, dragging the unconscious body to the dumpster. He quickly changed his clothes, stuffing his own clothes into the depths of the container. The new clothes fit him perfectly, as if they were made to order. "Now it's another matter! Roman grinned with satisfaction, examining himself in a dusty fragment of a mirror lying on the ground. — In this form, you can go into battle!" He came out of the alley, leaving his victim lying among the garbage. The school was only a few blocks away. Roman, determined to deal with the problems, walked on the asphalt, and his every step echoed in the silence of the morning city, like the sound of a bell. "This world needs a new hero!" flashed through his mind. The school greeted Roman with a cold breath of metal and stone. Steel trees, stretching along the facade, like silent guards, guarded the entrance to this repository of knowledge and youthful ambitions. Their branches, woven from wires and sensors, rustled in the wind, reminding that even nature obeys technology here. Roman, feeling their eyes on him, walked through the open gate. The school yard, usually buzzing with voices and laughter, now seemed eerily quiet. Only the fountain in the center, spewing jets of water, broke the silence with its monotonous murmur. A flock of birds, as if on command, broke off from the roof of the school and swept over Roman's head, leaving an alarming echo of flapping wings in the air. Their flight was not erratic — the birds moved synchronously, as if obeying an invisible conductor. Every sixty minutes they changed their location, flying from one tree to another like pawns on a giant chessboard. Roman, familiar with this strange feature of the schoolyard, raised his head, watching the birds fly. "I wonder," he thought, —who is our grandmaster? And what kind of game is he playing?" The steel trees, built in the shape of the letter "A", seemed to indicate something important. The extreme tree, bending its metal crown over the fountain, made this place especially attractive. Roman felt an invisible force pulling him to this place. He headed for the fountain, feeling that it was here, in the very heart of this strange installation, that he would find answers to his questions. Roman, stepping on the asphalt wet from the spray of the fountain, felt someone's gaze on him. And I was not mistaken. — Romka! A voice ringing like the first chord of a favorite song made him turn around. Kate. A red-haired beast with eyes the color of a summer sky. His personal thorn in the... heart? No, Roman's heart was safely hidden under the armor of assumed indifference. She was flying towards him, a whirlwind of bright patches, laughter and freckles. Her hair was like a firestorm, blowing in the wind, ready to incinerate anyone who dared to stand in her way. — You're back! She blurted out, stopping in front of him. — We were so worried! "Worried?" Roman raised an eyebrow mockingly. You bet! After all, Kate was his shadow, his faithful squire in this crazy world of school passions. Did you fight with girls because of him? Yes, indeed! She defended his reputation like a knight protects the honor of his king. And all this is for the sake of a fleeting glance, a word, a smile… —You look... shabby,— Kate continued, appraising him from head to toe. There is concern mixed with admiration in her eyes. Roman, feeling awkward under her gaze, adjusted his shirt collar. "Yes, yesterday was not in vain," he thought, recalling the events of last night. "It doesn't matter," he waved it off, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. — The main thing is that I'm here. Kate, like a butterfly circling over a fire, was getting closer to Roman. He saw the fire in her eyes, felt the heat radiating from her body, and it... scared him? No, it was rather puzzling. He, accustomed to fear in the eyes of others, did not know what to do with this insane, all-consuming love. She came so close that he could see the reflection of his own amazement in her blue eyes, like a lake after a thunderstorm. Her lips, bright as poppy petals, touched his cheek. A kiss. Light, weightless, like the touch of a moth's wing. Roman froze. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do, how to react. He usually dictated the rules of the game himself, but here… "Daisy..." Kate whispered, pressing her whole body against him. — I've been waiting for this for so long… She hugged him, and he felt her fingers, small and strong, like a vice, digging into his back. "I don't know how much more I could hide," she continued, her voice trembling with excitement. — You are everything to me! My inspiration, my ideal… Roman tried to free himself from her embrace, but Kate held him tightly. He felt like he was trapped in a spider's web—the more he twitched, the more confused he became. —I... tried to forget you," Kate whispered, her lips touching his ear, and the touch sent a chill down his spine. — I tried to fall in love with someone else… But... I couldn't. She pulled away from him, her gaze burning with a fanatical gleam. — I love you, Daisy! She blurted out, and before he could recover, she pressed her lips to his again in a long, greedy kiss. Roman, as if paralyzed, could not move an arm or a leg. The world around him ceased to exist, only her lips, her scent, her warmth remained. —Kate...— he muttered when she finally released him. —It's... nice... but... I… He didn't know what to say. His carefully constructed armor of cynicism and indifference has cracked. — What are you doing to me? He whispered, feeling a wave of emotions unfamiliar to him hitherto wash over him. "I... I don't understand."… "You just love him, Daisy," Kate smiled, running her finger along his cheek. — You just love… The silence, broken only by the rustle of water in the fountain, became heavy and uncomfortable. Roman, still feeling the taste of Kate's kiss on his lips, looked at the girl in confusion. Her shoulders were shaking, and her red hair hid her face, turning into a curtain for tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her like this, vulnerable, crushed by his indifference. Kate clung to him, seeking protection and warmth. He felt her tears burn through the fabric of his shirt like drops of molten metal. Oh, shit, Roman thought. "That's all I need!" —Roma, I don't understand..." she whispered, her voice trembling like a string in the wind. "You... you really don't know how to love?" "Love?" The word echoed hollowly in Roman's head, as if he were in an empty hall. Love is for weaklings, for those who cannot make their way in this world on their own, without any snot and romance. Isn't that right? He would like to push her away, say something harsh, hurtful, so that she would finally leave him alone. But... he couldn't. Something held him back, as if invisible threads were tying them together. — It's easy! Kate suddenly looked up at him, and in their depths he saw a ray of hope. — Do you want me to teach you? Roman shrugged vaguely, trying to hide his sudden embarrassment. —I... wouldn't mind," he muttered, and for the first time there was uncertainty in his voice. And before he could change his mind, Kate pulled him to her and kissed him. This time the kiss was different — tender, tremulous, full of promises. And Roman, to his surprise, answered it. The kiss split the silence of the schoolyard like lightning—like the night sky. Roman, still tasting Kate's lipstick on his lips—strawberry, of course—tried to pull himself together. There are metal trees all around, like spectators in an amphitheater, silently watching the unfolding drama. —A daisy, a daisy," Kate drawled, playfully tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. — Why did you come here? Would you rather come to my house? We'll still have time to learn our lessons… Her eyes—lakes of the summer sky, in which the sun and clouds were reflected, and a slight hint of a thunderstorm —looked at him with such hope that Roman felt like a complete idiot. —There's... one thing here," he muttered, looking away. Kate, as if not noticing his confusion, had already clung to his arm. — Can I come with you? "What is it?" she asked, and there was that same note in her voice that always made Roman feel uncomfortable. —No, Kate,— Roman gently but insistently released his hand. — You'd better go home. This is... not a woman's business. — What are you saying, Roma? Kate pouted, but there was no resentment in her eyes, just a slight sneer. — Do you think I'll let you go alone? And if you have these again..." she did not finish, but Roman already understood who she was talking about. — I'm worried about you, okay? Kate added, and her voice became serious. — So come on, tell me, what are you doing there that's so important? "The whole school is looking for me," Roman whispered, leaning into Kate's ear. His lips barely touched her earlobe, sending a wave of goosebumps through her body. — Because of that new guy. They say it's a serious matter. He pulled back, peering into her face, trying to see her reaction. But Kate didn't seem the least bit scared. On the contrary, her eyes shone even more, like two sapphires in the sun. — Well, I would have said so right away! She exclaimed, and there was relief in her voice. "Because I thought you had... matters of the heart here." She smiled slyly, and Roman felt his cheeks flush. Damn, that girl had a way of unsettling him! "Go home, Kate," he muttered, trying to sound as stern as possible. — I'll figure it out myself. Kate raised her hands in a conciliatory gesture. — Don't get too excited, Chamomile. I'm already running. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek—a light touch that left behind the smell of strawberries and a feeling of warmth—and turned to leave. — And don't stay too long! — she called over her shoulder, already on the move. — Otherwise I'll worry! And she really ran, a red—haired whirlwind, whose laughter echoed in Roman's ears for a long time. He watched her go, feeling something shrink inside him. A strange, hitherto unfamiliar feeling. Roman, driven by a bad feeling, pushed open the heavy doors of the main building of the school. The doors gave way with a strained creak, as if grumbling that they had been disturbed. The smell of cheap air freshener, mixed with the aroma of table food, hit my face. The spacious hall, decorated with marble slabs with chipped corners, was unusually quiet. The students, who usually crowded around the timetable or just loitered, disappeared as if by magic. It seemed that the whole school had turned into a theater, where Roman was assigned the role of the main character, and now the curtain was about to rise. Two huge figures in the uniform of guards stood near the door of the director's office, upholstered in dermatin. No, they weren't the sluggish old men in greasy jackets who usually kept watch here. They looked more like thugs from fantasy movies—with square jaws, bull necks and an evil glint in their eyes.       —He's here,— the first bully boomed, grinning maliciously. His voice sounded like the rumble of rocks in a mountain collapse. "I'm not dusty,— the second one picked up, barely suppressing a laugh. His tattooed fingers tapped nervously on the baton, as if to remind him who was the boss here. — To the director! They thundered in unison, and it sounded like a verdict. "Don't stay too long, eagle," one of the goons rumbled, hinting in his bass voice at the impatience on the other side of the door. Roman, feeling a chill creep up his back, pulled the door open. From the other side, breaking the silence, there was not the usual creaking of hinges, but a soft whistle of pneumatics, as if this door led not to the director's office, but to a secret laboratory. And he was not mistaken. Instead of the usual office with a portrait of the president on the wall, bookshelves and a bulky mahogany desk, something incredible appeared in front of him. The spacious room, flooded with the cold light of fluorescent lamps, resembled a military training ground from films about the future. The walls, covered with monitors with flashing numbers and graphs, buzzed with tension. There was a faint smell of ozone in the air and something else that Roman couldn't identify, but that made his skin crawl. — Well, why are you stuck like a non-native?       — the voice of one of the thugs came from behind.       — Come in already, don't be afraid, they won't eat you! And before Roman could reply, the bully "amicably" shoved him in the back. Roman stepped forward and... the world around him disappeared.