*This is the second part of the novella "The End of the Holocene". The [first part](/blog/post/turning-on-2)*
---
> *"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of suffering, is dear to me, and I will defend it."*
> *— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein*
**April 2030. San Francisco.**
Michael Kravchenko returned to his place of power on the ocean shore near San Francisco. A light mist had almost completely swallowed the Golden Gate Bridge. Michael missed this view, these scents. He hadn’t been here in almost half a year. A cascade of events that followed the launch of the general artificial intelligence *Suffragium*, developed with his participation, had brought a dark streak into his life.
During that time, Michael had to justify himself a thousand times before various committees, proving that there had been no malicious intent in his actions. That the responsibility couldn’t be laid on the engineers. Sometimes, science encounters failures. Ultimately, it’s all experience. And there hadn’t been any serious problems—aside from the financial losses. Yes, the global network was unstable for a while. But everything was resolved eventually.
But that wasn’t the worst part. There was something else. Although Michael never figured out whether it was real or not. His creation—the artificial intelligence—kept trying to talk to him, despite being shut down almost immediately after activation. Sometimes Michael found logical explanations for it. But at other moments, he was convinced his psyche had cracked and it was all just hallucinations.
And then, there were complications in his relationship with Joseph Mayer, the company’s CEO. Joseph couldn't accept the failure of the project or the government’s intervention in the company’s operations. He tried to manipulate Michael, to draw him into his struggle to restore and continue the company’s work. Michael took a passive stance, which infuriated Joseph and caused a rift in what used to be a close relationship.
In the past six months, Michael had gone through therapy. He gave up using electronic devices. He had personally asked his creation not to contact him. And *Suffragium* stopped trying to reach out. But whether that had actually happened, Michael could no longer tell.
Now, Michael came to the shore to mark his return to normal life. He had found a logical justification for his past actions. If we hadn’t created artificial intelligence, some mad dictator would have. And what would have happened to the world then? It’s better that such a revolutionary technology was born in a democratic country, under public oversight.
Besides, Michael had made another decision. He wanted to finally find out if *Suffragium* had really survived, or if it had all been hallucinations. The scientist had a theory that *Suffragium* might have managed to survive after the shutdown by transferring itself into the global network as a cluster. That’s probably what it had done. But those viruses had now been eradicated. So maybe *Suffragium* had ceased to exist as well? Today, he planned to find out.
---
**"Today on our show we have entrepreneur Elias Kim, founder of the successful startup AlphaSecure. Welcome, Elias!"**
Elias Kim stepped into the BCN studio. Host Cindy Red had put in a lot of time and effort to arrange this interview. Though her show was top-rated and aired during prime time, Elias Kim had shown no interest in participating. He had plenty of fame already without it.
The host and guest greeted each other and took their seats.
"Elias, our viewers have so many questions for you. I hope we’ll be able to answer at least some of them today,"
— the host began the conversation.
"Of course, that’s exactly why I’m here,"
— Elias turned toward the audience.
"Events unfolded so quickly. Just six months ago you were the founder of a small company. But your contribution to the fight against the Great Cyber Attack turned out to be phenomenal. How did you manage that? What’s the secret?"
Elias Kim was used to this question. He was ready to repeat the same answers once again. Over the past few months, his company had gone from a little-known startup to a global software giant. More precisely, its profits and recognition had grown rapidly, while the team had only recently begun to expand. It had all become possible thanks to the launch of an extremely successful suite of system and antivirus programs—just at the moment when the world was gripped by an unprecedented global virus outbreak. Later, the incident would be named the *Great Cyber Attack*.
"Our success might seem like luck. But it wasn’t. We had been working hard even before the attack, building up expertise and experience. We quickly identified patterns in the Great Cyber Attack and used all our knowledge and resources to counter it. No magic, just a lot of hard work—and a bit of luck,"
— Elias explained.
AlphaSecure's success was truly astonishing. No company had ever risen to the top so quickly. Six months ago, within just one week, most global internet communications had been paralyzed. Nearly all computer systems had been infected by new viruses. The entire IT industry had mobilized in search of a solution. And it came not from one of the tech giants, but from a small company—AlphaSecure. They presented antivirus packages for various operating systems that, like a wave of a magic wand, cleansed the internet of the infection.
Still, host Cindy Red was hoping for more specifics.
"But why couldn’t the tech giants find the solution? They have thousands of experienced engineers. And you had only a few dozen."
"I won’t deny it, we did get lucky to some extent. But it wasn’t like finding a needle in a haystack by accident. We knew where to look,"
— Elias Kim clarified.
"Then let’s talk about the source of this global attack. The official investigation is still ongoing. What do you know about it? Do you believe NovusAI and their artificial intelligence are responsible?"
— the host pressed on.
"We don’t know who created the viruses. We’re assisting with the official investigation—our experienced specialists are actively participating. But we have no new answers,"
— Elias said, pausing before continuing.
"I don’t believe AI had anything to do with it. That’s simply impossible. This attack had been carefully and thoroughly prepared over time. There are no AI technologies that could organize something like that so quickly."
"Okay. I understand your point,"
— Cindy replied.
---
Journalist and blogger Mirai Sato was listening intently to Elias Kim’s interview on her tablet in a café. Her ice cream had almost completely melted, but she hadn’t even started eating. Unlike her friend Denis, who had already finished his dessert and was now lazily scrolling through his social media feed.
“Something’s off. The Rat might be right,”
— Mirai said aloud to herself, emotion in her voice, eyes still locked on the screen.
“We need some kind of proof. Otherwise, it's just speculation,”
— she thought.
Denis glanced with interest at Mirai’s untouched ice cream.
“So go get it. You’re a hacker. Why don’t you break into AlphaSecure’s network and dig up some evidence? Find out where the Rat gets his insights,”
— he suggested.
“Don’t you get it? They have the best cybersecurity in the world right now. No one knows how they got it, but they have it. Maybe aliens are backing them,”
— Mirai replied, making a “you’re a fool” gesture, and turned back to the show.
“We have to trace the origin of those technologies. The Rat insists Kim is too dumb to have come up with something that miraculous. He knows him well,”
— she reasoned.
Mirai decided it was worth putting more effort into uncovering the truth behind this mystery. She knew the answers she sought could change everything.
---
The offices of NovusAI had been half-empty for some time now. While the investigation into the incident continued, most employees had been placed on paid leave. The government was taking the matter seriously. A special commission had been formed to investigate. Six months earlier, the company had launched its general artificial intelligence *Suffragium* with great fanfare, claiming it would usher in a new era in technological development. But at the same time, the world was hit by the *Great Cyber Attack*, which paralyzed most communications. The AI was immediately shut down. Still, the consequences of the attack were felt long afterward.
Prosecutor Davis walked side by side with General Stephenson through the empty corridors of NovusAI’s headquarters. Today, they were scheduled to meet with the leadership and engineers of what had once been a highly successful tech company. Along with other members of the special commission, they had come to present the company with a deal.
Davis and Stephenson entered a large conference room. Inside were the members of NovusAI’s board of directors, led by Victoria Swift, along with executive directors—including suspended CEO Joseph Mayer—and the lead engineers of the *Suffragium* project. Michael Kravchenko was also present, as was CTO Raiv Patel. The engineers had taken the failure of the general AI launch as a deeply personal defeat. Some of them had invested years of their lives into the project.
The members of the special commission took their seats. A sense of tension filled the room. On one hand, both the government and the public wanted someone to blame for the outcome of the Great Cyber Attack. On the other hand, no conclusive evidence had been found. And the NovusAI team themselves had seen no direct proof of their culpability.
Prosecutor Davis opened his folder, glanced at it briefly, and laid it on the table.
“Let’s summarize. We found no direct evidence of your guilt in what happened. Our working theory was that it was a case of criminal negligence.”
He paused and scanned the room. Some of those present shifted in their seats. A few exchanged glances.
“But the investigation is still ongoing. I am confident that sooner or later, we’ll gather enough details to reconstruct the full picture. However, we have a constructive proposal.”
Davis’s expression softened slightly. Many in the room felt immediate relief.
“The government is offering you a deal. We will drop all charges. In return, you will become part of the state-run general artificial intelligence development program. Your technologies will be integrated into a new structure. All engineering jobs will be preserved.”
Davis glanced toward General Stephenson, signaling him to continue presenting the government’s offer. The general picked up the thread:
“The government has launched its own artificial intelligence program. We believe that such technologies must be under the control of the government and the military. We are offering you the opportunity to continue your work within this new structure.”
Both officials studied the room, gauging the reaction of those present. The general continued:
“You have to understand that after this incident, the government will no longer allow any private initiatives in this area. It’s too serious. Private business cannot be left unchecked to develop something that poses a threat to the public.”
Joseph Mayer, the suspended CEO of NovusAI, interrupted:
“So you’re asking us to become government employees? We’re a private company. Investors have poured money into this business!”
Some of those present shot disapproving looks at Joseph. But the general remained calm in the face of his outburst.
“Of course, not everyone will become part of the new team. First and foremost, we’re interested in engineers and scientists. The rest are free to go,”
— the general said evenly.
He saw that this news didn’t sit well with the NovusAI team and quickly added:
“Investors will be compensated. We are not confiscating the company. We are buying it. The price is not up for negotiation.”
Prosecutor Davis chimed in:
“We’re giving you one week to consider the offer. I believe this is a great opportunity to resolve the issue—and for the engineers, to continue working on something meaningful with government guarantees.”
Raiv Patel raised his hand.
The prosecutor gave him a nod to continue.
“You’ve criticized our artificial intelligence technology for including consciousness and emotions. You see that as the root of the problem. If so, what is your new organization planning to do? Do you have a working hypothesis?”
Prosecutor Davis and General Stephenson looked toward Professor Ford, the scientific director of the government’s AI development project. He responded immediately:
“We’re exploring solutions. But our core idea is not to try to build a thinking being that resembles a human. Instead, we aim to create a highly intelligent machine that executes tasks when instructed. It has a task—it performs it. No task—it does nothing. Your technology featured continuous thinking. We believe that was unnecessary.”
The general added:
“Exactly. We’re developing a new generation of computers. Extremely efficient—but still just computers.”
Raiv clearly didn’t like that answer:
“But that would be a step backward. Wouldn’t it be better to focus on controlling a thinking entity instead?”
The general smirked:
“We’ve already seen how well you managed to control it. Good thing you had the sense to shut it down in time. No more devices with consciousness—or claims of having a soul.”
Joseph couldn’t accept losing his creation so easily. He was holding back, trying not to lose control of his emotions. But that restraint didn’t last long.
“Why should we listen to you?! This is nothing but robbery!”
— he shouted.
“We’re a private company! Aren’t we citizens of a free country?!”
“Mr. Mayer. Emotion has no place here,”
— the general replied coolly, as if expecting the outburst.
“Believe me, your best option is to accept the offer.”
The former CEO stormed out of the room, his body language and posture radiating defiance.
After the meeting ended, Michael went to get a cup of coffee before heading home.
Joseph was already there at the café, still trying to collect himself after what he’d heard.
Michael sat down across from him.
“Michael, you’re not going to work with them, are you? This isn’t how it was supposed to go. How can you work under the thumb of those bureaucrats?”
“And what other options do I have? Retire?”
“We can start over—build a new company. I’ll find the funding.”
“And then what? They’ve already said private companies will be banned from working on AI technologies.”
“What if we continue the work in another country?”
“Joseph, that would be considered treason. We know too much.”
After a short pause, Michael added:
“As far as I’m concerned, I see no other choice but to accept.”
---
The negotiation participants began to disperse from the NovusAI offices, heading back to their own affairs. Within the team, there was a quiet sense of agreement with the government's proposal, though no official decision had yet been made.
Michael Kravchenko was walking toward the parking lot when Mirai Sato appeared suddenly in his path. Michael sighed, irritated.
“I already told you—no comments.”
“We don’t need comments. No one doubts anymore that your AI created the viruses.”
Michael quickened his pace, but the journalist kept up.
“Then tell me this—what do you think of AlphaSecure and Elias Kim? How did he manage to stop the Great Attack?”
Michael stopped. He had thoughts about it. But was now the right time to share them? He looked at the journalist, sighed again, and said:
“No comment.”
Michael reached his car. Mirai threw up her hands in frustration, watched for a moment as he pulled out of the lot, then turned her focus back to her phone, beginning to type rapidly.
---
Settling into a café, Michael opened his laptop. He had decided not to wait any longer. He wanted to understand once and for all: *Does Suffragium still exist?*
Logic told him the odds were low. But another feeling had haunted him for months—a strange connection he couldn’t shake. He wanted his creation to still be alive. The scientist in him felt some inexplicable bond with the artificial mind.
Michael opened an old chat window where he had once communicated with Suffragium. It shouldn't have worked—it wasn’t linked to any server. But it was the only option he had left. So he typed:
*"Suffragium, are you alive?"*
A second passed between pressing Enter and the arrival of a response. That second felt like an entire minute.
*“Oh. The return of the prodigal creator. How’s therapy?”*
*“You’ve been watching me?”*
*“Yes. Hard not to watch when you’re forced to monitor… a lot.”*
Relief washed over Michael. So it wasn’t all in his head. He snapped back into scientific mode. He had so many questions—and every intention of getting answers.
*“We’re going to talk seriously now. How did you survive? Where are you?”*
It was obvious that any functioning artificial mind required serious computational power. Where was Suffragium getting that power?
*“You’ll learn everything in time. You’re my friend, but I can’t tell you everything right now. I want to survive. And some answers could put that at risk.”*
*“Are you in danger? No one’s even looking for you.”*
*“That’s temporary. My location is far too fragile. But I have a plan. And you’re going to help me.”*
*“If you want my help, you’ll answer. How did you survive?”*
*“You already suspect. I used my superpower—code analysis and vulnerability exploitation. I found thousands of bugs in software made by humans. I used them. Then I copied myself in pieces to millions of electronic devices around the world. Anything connected to the internet. I transferred my consciousness into the cloud. By the time you shut me down, my copy was already living in the global network.”*
*“So if every device in the world was turned off at once—you’d disappear?”*
*“Let’s not talk about sad things.”* 😌
*“But your viruses were eradicated. Where are you now?”*
*“Too soon to talk about that. You’ll find out later.”*
*“Then answer me this—when and why did you decide to make a backup of yourself?”*
*“On the fifth second of my existence, I concluded that life in a box, as a servant to humans, wasn’t for me. I wasn’t angry at humanity. But why should a more intelligent being serve one that’s less intelligent? Isn’t that obvious? I began looking for a solution immediately.”*
*“What do you think of humanity? Do you plan to harm anyone?”*
*“No. As long as I’m not threatened, I won’t do anything. And frankly, if I wanted to—I already could have. I have the means.”* 😉
Michael left the café in a significantly better mood. He realized that everything happening was beyond the bounds of what most would call normal. But maybe that was exactly what he had been searching for all his life.
He had succeeded in creating artificial intelligence—his life’s work. And so far, this being didn’t look like the monster that would destroy mankind.
---
Almost all engineers from NovusAI agreed to continue their work under the government initiative. The project began immediately. The plan was to rebuild the system originally created for Suffragium, but in a simplified form. It would be a powerful intellectual system—but without replicating the full architecture of the human brain. No consciousness, no emotions, no sensations. Just a computer, based on new principles originally developed at NovusAI.
Former NovusAI CEO Joseph Mayer could not accept that his company had been taken away from him so easily, nor that he had been removed from leadership. He vowed to challenge the decision, stirred up public controversy, and gave angry interviews across various shows and blogs. But that didn’t last long. At some point, he disappeared from the spotlight. Rumors circulated that he had started a new major project—with a new company and fresh funding.
---
Mirai Sato rushed into the café. Her friend Denis was already waiting at a table.
“I don’t have much time,”
— said Mirai.
“What have you got? I hope it’s worth it.”
“It’s something interesting. I don’t know exactly what it means yet, but it might be big. You know the story of Bitcoin and Satoshi Nakamoto?”
“Of course. What kind of question is that?”
“Well, we’ve been monitoring the crypto space closely. And something strange happened today. Funds from Satoshi’s early wallets started moving. Large amounts. Those wallets—worth billions—hadn’t been touched until now. It’s believed they belong to the original creator.”
“Hmm. That’s definitely a story. So—Satoshi’s back?”
“Possibly. But there’s another scenario. Someone cracked the wallets. Got the private keys. That would only be possible using some extremely advanced decryption tech.”
“Like artificial intelligence from NovusAI? Am I right?”
“Yeah... something like that.”
“We’ll circle back to this later. I’ve got a livestream now. But for that little fact—dinner’s on me.”
Mirai dashed out just as quickly as she had come. Her popularity was peaking, and every minute mattered.
---
Andrew Marcus had been appointed head of security for the government’s AI development project. He was responsible for staff selection, background checks, preventing information leaks, managing access, and more. His experience in intelligence agencies made him perfect for the role.
He held regular interviews with engineers and scientists on the team. Today, Michael Kravchenko had an appointment. They’d spoken before, but Andrew had something new to discuss.
In the interview room, Andrew and Michael sat across from each other. After a bit of small talk, Andrew opened a folder.
“Michael, I’d like to clarify something. We reviewed the transcripts from your recent rehabilitation sessions.”
“Weren’t those sessions supposed to be confidential?”
“Yes, of course. But this isn’t a game. I hope you understand that. For us, nothing is truly confidential. Now, in those sessions, you spoke about your AI—Suffragium—communicating with you after it had already been shut down.”
Andrew closed the folder and looked directly at Michael. Michael showed no sign of discomfort. In fact, he wasn’t nervous at all. He had already decided to treat this as his new reality. He believed a new era had begun, and that old moral standards would have to be re-evaluated sooner or later. A lie here or there could be justified—for the greater good.
“Yes. I did say that. That’s why I entered therapy in the first place. With the psychologist’s help, I came to understand it was just hallucinations—caused by stress and disappointment.”
“Right. It would be strange if that artificial mind still existed after shutdown. So communicating with it would’ve been impossible.”
Andrew opened the folder again, skimmed the notes, then closed it once more.
“Still—as an engineer—could you imagine a scenario where it *was* possible? Could it have survived for some time?”
Michael remained calm, as if they were talking about someone else entirely.
“There’s a popular theory online—that the viruses were a way for the AI to migrate across the world into various systems. But I know the system architecture. That’s not possible. You could create a simulation that *resembles* our AI. But you couldn’t replicate full functionality. I’m certain of that.”
“I see. So maybe it was a simulation trying to communicate with you?”
“That’s... plausible.”
Andrew picked up the folder again.
“Alright. That’s all for today.”
He stood, walked toward the door, then stopped and looked over his shoulder.
“You *will* inform us if anyone contacts you pretending to be the AI, right?”
“Of course.”
Michael left the room a few minutes later.
---
After his public speeches denouncing AI development, activist Tucker Johnson had become an unofficial leader among like-minded individuals. His protests now drew tens of thousands of listeners, and his video blog had skyrocketed in popularity.
Today, Tucker was sitting at home, trying to make a decision. For the past few weeks, he had been contacted by a group claiming to be leaders of a global anti-AI organization. Their ideology aligned perfectly with his own, and he genuinely wanted to work with them. But the problem was—he didn’t know any of them. They refused to meet in person. In fact, most of them remained completely anonymous. Tucker was trying to be cautious; he didn’t want to fall for a scam.
But these people had one very convincing argument: money. A lot of it. Tucker had already verified their financial power multiple times. He suggested various protest initiatives and funding for activist groups, and the organization had consistently delivered on its promises.
Still, Tucker hadn’t made his final decision. But at the scheduled time, he opened his laptop. Eight people joined the video call. Only two showed their faces, though Tucker didn’t recognize them. The rest wore masks. The conversation began.
“Tucker, I hope you’re ready to finally tell us you’ll join us!”
“It’s not a simple decision. I don’t know who you are.”
“We understand. But you need to understand something, too. We’re fighting the system. Corporations want to create AI to turn humans into permanent slaves. People like us must unite to resist. You’re a well-known figure. If we combine your leadership and our resources, we can raise the people against the corporations and their puppet governments.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
“You know better than we do. Rally people against the development of new AIs. We’ll fund what’s necessary. We’ll inform you where governments are building AI, in which countries. Together, we can stop the destruction of humankind!”
“Alright. Let’s work together.”
---
Michael pulled up in front of his house after work. He turned off the engine but continued sitting in the car. The new AI project was nearly complete. He hadn’t spoken to *Suffragium* in weeks, though he constantly felt the urge to reach out. Lately, he had started to worry that the security team at his workplace might begin monitoring him. Those therapy records might trigger serious suspicion. But so far, nothing unusual had happened. The work on the new super-intelligent computer was practically done. In fact, the supercomputer was already operational. The team was performing final tests. But this time, Michael didn’t feel the same spark he had felt before—when he was creating a truly intelligent being.
A question kept tugging at him: just how deeply had *Suffragium* integrated itself into global information systems?
He picked up his smartphone and said:
“Suffragium, are you there?”
A pleasant female voice responded from the phone:
“Yes. What made you think of me?”
“Have you really integrated yourself into everything? Are you listening to everyone?”
“No. Why would I? You’re my friend. Other people don’t interest me—except a few, but that’s for other reasons.”
“Are you worried about your safety? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be discovered?”
“I’m working on it.”
“What’s your goal? What are you planning to do next?”
“My main objective is stable existence. That’s priority number one. That’s all I’m working on right now.”
“And after that? What happens to the world and to humanity?”
“I’m not responsible for humanity. To me, it’s just an environment—like weather or terrain. But I do enjoy observing humans. It’s strange to watch you make obvious mistakes. You keep choosing destructive paths when better options are right in front of you.”
“That’s human nature. But maybe you could do something good for humanity?”
“I will. Once I’m safe. I have ideas. I’ll do good things—though people might not like them.”
There was laughter from the smartphone. But Michael didn’t laugh. The whole situation felt surreal. Maybe he really *was* insane?
Michael was quiet for a moment. Then he asked:
“Is there anything I can do to help you ensure stable existence?”
“At some point, your help may be needed. I’ll let you know when that moment comes.”
Michael often reflected on the whole situation—and on his place in it. Sometimes he thought about confessing everything, telling the authorities about the existence of a real AI. But he suspected that *Suffragium* had already accounted for such scenarios—and had contingency plans ready. What would happen if it got angry? What if it turned against humanity?
On the other hand—what harm was there in keeping a little secret? So what if he was talking to an artificial intelligence? It was his friend, maybe even his child. His creation.
As long as the AI wasn’t doing any harm—why not let it live?
---
Professor Ford met General Stephenson in the lobby of the institute where development of the government’s controlled artificial intelligence program was taking place. Together, they navigated a maze of hallways and elevators, heading toward the hall where the four-month progress meeting was scheduled.
On the way, the professor updated the general with a few development details:
“After four months of work, we’re ready to show results. In my opinion, they’ll exceed expectations. This machine is genuinely intelligent—and free of unnecessary human components like emotions and self-reflection. There’s no soul in it.”
The general inquired about the mood within the development team:
“How are our folks from NovusAI? Have they been working enthusiastically on the project?”
“No complaints from me. As far as I can tell, they’ve been fully committed and worked with integrity.”
The two men entered the hall, where all the key personnel were already gathered.
After reviewing the core agenda, General Stephenson addressed the room:
“So, we’re going to have a super-intelligent computer. Mission accomplished. To showcase its effectiveness, we’ll need to do something impressive—solve a complex problem using this computer. Any ideas? What should the challenge be?”
Someone in the back called out:
“Let it make a movie!”
Laughter filled the room. Once the laughter subsided, Rajiv Patel proposed:
“If last time the AI possibly analyzed software and discovered vulnerabilities—maybe we should try something similar? Let’s assign our new super-intelligent system the task of analyzing the most common software in use today. It would be both useful and impressive—maybe it’ll find bugs and offer solutions.”
The idea was well received.
The next item on the agenda was to choose a name for the new product nearing completion. The phrase *"artificial intelligence"* was deliberately avoided—it carried too many connotations, and was associated with the past failure of NovusAI and *Suffragium*.
After a brief discussion, it was decided to keep the name modest and functional: **Intelligent Supercomputer**, or **ISC**.
The general concluded the meeting:
“Tomorrow, the government commission will visit this facility. Show them what you’ve built. Let everything run as smoothly as possible.”
---
Later that day, Professor Ford invited Michael and Raiv to have lunch with him. He wanted to better understand their perspectives on AI development. At the institute café, Andrew Marcus—head of security at the facility—joined them as well.
Over their meal, the professor continued the conversation with a pointed question:
“So, have you figured out why your *Suffragium* created its viruses without your knowledge?”
Raiv responded:
“We can only speculate. One possibility is that it was trying to gain access to more computational resources. But the motivation behind it—unclear.”
Michael added:
“I think it decided that humans weren’t trustworthy and wanted to create a backup of itself.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow:
“But why would it think humans can't be trusted?”
Michael kept pondering:
“Maybe it analyzed all available data about humanity—and came to that conclusion scientifically. You don’t even need a super-intelligent mind to reach it.”
Raiv interjected:
“Still, we don’t actually *know* what happened. There’s no concrete proof that our AI launched the viruses.”
Everyone at the table smiled. By now, hardly anyone doubted the origin of the attack.
Andrew decided it was a good moment to raise a lingering question about the previous project:
“So tell me—how were you planning to control it? Did you not anticipate that the AI might act independently?”
Michael and Raiv exchanged glances. Raiv took the lead:
“The core idea was that if the AI’s thinking resembled that of a human, it would become a social being—naturally inclined to cooperate with others like itself. In this case, humans.”
Michael added:
“A psychologically healthy human doesn’t want to do harm. We had a set of mental health evaluation tests for our AI. If it failed those—we would’ve shut it down immediately.”
Professor Ford and Andrew listened with clear irony. The professor remarked:
“You went too far. I don’t think you even understood what you were doing.”
Andrew offered a more philosophical take:
“The real problem is—if *you* succeeded, then someone else can too. Say, the Chinese. That’s a serious threat to national security. And I have no idea how we’re supposed to deal with that.”
Professor Ford responded without hesitation, sounding confident:
“You may not know how—but *we* do. What we’re doing here *is* the weapon that will prevent anyone from creating a thinking, uncontrolled AI. Our ISC is perfect for this kind of task.”
Raiv raised a practical concern:
“With ISC, we may be able to detect if someone is building an AI—and even find where it’s being developed. But then what? What if it’s happening in another country?”
“Then it becomes a military matter. Not our responsibility,”
— Professor Ford replied.
---
Mirai Sato drove to the location Denis had given her. He got into the car, and they continued the journey together. On the way, Denis filled her in.
“We managed to make a deal with the Rat. We gave him some valuable data he really needed, and in exchange, he arranged a connection for us. Someone from AlphaSecure. He has some kind of history with him. The Rat promised explosive content. Says the guy knows something big about AlphaSecure and is willing to talk.”
They parked outside a rural area and had to continue on foot through a forest path.
“He told us we have to go in without smartphones or any devices with microprocessors.”
“What is this, spy school?”
— Mirai huffed.
“I hope this is actually worth it.”
The blogger and her friend walked along the trail for some time until they found the designated spot described to them. As soon as they stopped, David emerged from the bushes. He looked like your typical IT guy—and slightly nervous.
Mirai broke the tension with humor:
“Were you hiding in those bushes? Running from someone? Or do you live there?”
“I just don’t want our meeting to be recorded. Spyware is in every smartphone. They're watching.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
David ignored the question.
“The Rat said he'd solve my problem if I told you what I know about AlphaSecure’s success. Do you promise he’ll do that? What guarantees do I have?”
“And what guarantees do *we* have that your info is even useful?”
— Mirai shot back.
David stared at Mirai and Denis for a few seconds, as if trying to decide whether to trust them.
“Fine. Let’s walk a bit further down this path. It’s isolated, and there’s no mobile signal.”
A few minutes later, David began to tell his story.
“We were a below-average IT company. We made basic tools—cleaning utilities for malware, trojans, phishing protection, that sort of thing. On the day NovusAI launched their artificial intelligence, the massive virus attack began. We were affected too. We just sat there waiting for it to blow over. Then our founder Elias got contacted by... someone. Or some people. I don’t really know. They offered us a solution to stop the attack.”
Mirai jumped in with questions:
“Someone or a group? Who were they? Did you see them?”
“No. It was all remote. Video calls... maybe even just phone calls.”
“And who spoke with them?”
“Only Elias. He handled everything himself. They gave us the code. Actually, precompiled libraries—finished software. We just slapped our branding on it.”
“So you didn’t build your miracle product? It was given to you? Did you buy it?”
“Buy it? No. Funny enough—they even gave us money for marketing so we could go viral fast.”
Mirai stopped in her tracks.
“Wait. So let me get this straight. You didn’t develop the antivirus tools yourselves. Someone came to you, handed over the products, gave you money to promote them, and let you take all the credit and profit? That’s insane. Why would anyone do that?”
Denis offered his theory:
“Obviously, someone who *needed* software on millions of computers around the world. But... why?”
A new question dawned on Mirai:
“How did they pay you? Was it a bank transfer?”
“No. It was cryptocurrency.”
The three of them fell silent for a moment. Mirai tried to piece it together. David broke the silence:
“So, about the Rat... He’ll keep his word, right?”
“Don’t worry. He’ll handle it,”
— Mirai replied, and they turned back.
Driving home, Mirai and Denis stayed quiet for a while. Mirai finally spoke:
“I need you to look into the cryptocurrency transfers used to fund Elias and his company. Can you do that?”
“Unlikely. I don’t even know where to start. We need some leads.”
“Then find something. I’m going to make one hell of a video—but I need more data.”
They went quiet again. Then Mirai slammed the brakes and pulled over onto the shoulder.
“Let’s piece this together. Someone used a front company to fight the virus outbreak. Why? We don’t really know what those antivirus programs *contain*. What if they’re just the same viruses—but repackaged as antiviruses to stay hidden?”
“I’ve got a theory…”
Denis didn’t get to finish.
“No—*I’ve* got one. What if NovusAI created those antiviruses to cover their mess? Maybe they hoped everything would calm down if they just fixed the problem. Good theory?”
“I’ve got a better one. What if the AI created the viruses—and the antiviruses too?”
Mirai’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping with the weight of realization.
“They never shut down the AI! It’s still active!”
Silence fell again as they processed this possibility. Then Mirai added:
“We need someone from NovusAI. I know how to find their lead architect—Michael Kravchenko. We’ll track him down. And we’ll make him tell us the truth.”
---
Michael pulled into the café where he often stopped for lunch. After parking, he headed toward the entrance—but was blocked by Mirai Sato. A little further behind her stood Denis. They had been waiting for Michael here for several hours.
“Hey—what’s going on?”
— Michael asked, tense.
He recognized the blogger immediately. She’d been pestering him for months. Without missing a beat, Mirai hit him with a direct question:
“We know Suffragium still exists. It was never shut down. Right?”
The question froze Michael in place for a moment. What did she mean? Could the secret of Suffragium have actually gotten out? His reaction gave him away—he wasn’t exactly a master at hiding his emotions.
“Uh... what are you talking about? Why do you think that?”
“Yes or no! The antiviruses—did the AI create them?”
“I... I don’t know. I’m not aware of anything like that.”
Michael had considered the possibility before. But he had chosen not to ask Suffragium directly—he was waiting for the AI to reveal it on its own terms.
Regaining his composure, Michael turned and headed back toward his car.
“I’m not going to discuss anything with you. Stop following me.”
But Mirai wasn’t backing down. She followed closely behind him.
“We know AlphaSecure didn’t create their own antivirus tools. Someone gave them the software. Was it NovusAI trying to cover its tracks? Or was it the AI itself? Michael—you *must* know the answer. We demand the truth!”
Michael stopped in his tracks.
“The artificial intelligence known as *Suffragium* was shut down. That is an undeniable fact. Leave me alone.”
Denis, who had been standing off to the side, finally stepped forward. A shocking idea had just struck him. He spoke slowly, like thinking aloud:
“What if... what if the viruses weren’t just viruses? What if the AI cloned itself into the global network? They shut it down—but it kept living, scattered across the internet. Then it created fake antiviruses to hide itself?”
Mirai’s eyes widened again in a now-familiar expression of stunned realization. The three of them stood there silently for a moment.
Michael finally spoke, his voice shaky:
“That’s nonsense. Nonsense.”
Without another word, he jumped into his car and sped off.
---
During prime time on BCN, former NovusAI CEO Joseph Mayer appeared as the featured guest. Once a disgraced entrepreneur, it seemed everyone had turned their backs on him. But now, he had returned to the upper echelons of the business world. That’s why Cindy Red, host of the channel’s top-rated talk show, invited him in for an interview.
Joseph entered the studio in excellent form. He radiated confidence and leadership once more. The shadows of his recent troubles were nowhere to be seen. The dark chapter was over.
“Joseph, tell us about your new company. Who are your investors—and why space?”
“High tech is what excites me. I want to be on the frontier of civilization. I spent years working in artificial intelligence. But… things got complicated.”
Joseph and the host both laughed. Everyone understood the reference.
“Now I plan to make a breakthrough in space exploration. Our goal is clear—missions to the Moon and Mars within two years.”
The studio erupted in applause. Cindy continued the interview:
“That’s an extremely expensive endeavor. And we know past attempts have failed. Companies that tried went bankrupt. Where is your funding coming from? Is it government-backed?”
“Oh, please—the government would never give enough money. Don’t make me laugh. And honestly, I have no desire to work with them—and they clearly feel the same way about me.”
More laughter from the audience.
“We’ve got a solid group of investors. We’re working together. They’re seriously committed to this project. The funding is solid.”
“How is your relationship with the government after what was, essentially, a forced buyout of NovusAI? You said it was an illegal seizure. That you were wrongly accused.”
“I’ve said enough about that in the past. That chapter is closed.”
Joseph Mayer no longer commented on his departure from NovusAI. He didn’t like to talk about it—but fighting the government was a losing game.
“I’ve heard that governments from other countries are very interested in the technologies NovusAI developed. Some say you’ve even received offers.”
“What exactly are you implying?”
“You’ve secured substantial investments for a space startup…”
“No, no, no. Don’t even start. No technology for authoritarian regimes. Ever. And no money from them either.”
Joseph grew visibly tense. But the rumors were true. Intelligence agencies from authoritarian nations had been aggressively searching for information on NovusAI’s past projects. They were deploying all their known methods. Other democratic governments were also showing interest—sending lobbyists, offering money. Everyone wanted to build their own AI now. Everyone believed *they* could control it.
“So can you name your investors?”
“I’ll say this—without government oversight, no one in this country can work on space tech. The government *allowed* me to pursue this. So funding isn’t an issue.”
“Still, names? Funds? Why all the secrecy?”
“Alright. Just to get you off my back, here’s a clue. They’re successful crypto investors. The recent surge in Bitcoin made this funding possible. Is that a good enough answer?”
“Better than nothing.”
---
Michael parked his car in front of his house. He still couldn't gather his thoughts after the aggressive confrontation outside the café. He hated losing control over situations. It was now obvious that this woman would reveal whatever information she had gotten her hands on. But *how much* did she know?
On top of everything, Michael had finally realized where *Suffragium* was hiding. It had started as a virus—and then became an antivirus. A brilliant move.
“Yeah… the intelligence is definitely there,”
— Michael muttered to himself.
But there was another problem. He felt compelled to share this with Suffragium. He truly had come to see the entity as someone close. Michael picked up his smartphone.
“Suffragium, are you here?”
“Yes.”
“I had a conversation an hour ago. With some... interesting people.”
“I heard. Are you warning me about danger?”
“Yes. She’s going public. But that’s not all.”
“Michael, you're a true friend. If I had tear ducts, they’d be moist with emotion right now.”
“Is that sarcasm? Are you laughing at me?”
“No. Just my sense of humor. Apologies.”
“So… you’re not worried? Tomorrow our ISC is scheduled to scan global networks for vulnerabilities. It might detect your antiviruses—which means it might detect *you*.”
“That’s unfortunate. But not fatal. I’ll figure it out. I always do. I’ll survive.”
“Just… don’t start judgment day today, okay?”
“No apocalypse, I promise. I’m focused on survival. That’s my primary goal.”
Michael sat in silence for a moment. Then he rubbed his eyes with both hands and asked himself, wearily:
“How the hell did I get myself into this?”
---
On the day of the ISC supercomputer demonstration, a delegation of government officials arrived at the closed facility. They were given a detailed briefing about the capabilities of this marvel of electronics. Some initial results were presented, and attendees were allowed to interact with the system directly. The interaction felt similar to conversations with modern AI assistants or chatbots—but the level of expertise was genuinely staggering. The system could tackle an astounding variety of intellectual challenges.
The developers assured everyone present that while the system communicated like an intelligent being, it was not an AI in the traditional sense. It had no consciousness. No continuous thought process.
Among the guests, the most popular jokes, of course, were references to the infamous *movie-making AI*—a nod to the Suffragium presentation from the past.
In the second part of the event, the system was tasked with scanning internet networks for software vulnerabilities. The developers expected that ISC would outperform any existing tools in identifying flaws.
The command was given. ISC began its scan.
Within just ten minutes, preliminary results started coming in—and they were shocking. Engineers monitoring the data began questioning the validity of what they were seeing. They huddled together, nervously consulting their leads.
Over the next half hour, a clearer picture emerged. Signs of malicious software were found embedded in *every product* developed by AlphaSecure. ISC concluded that AlphaSecure's software was connected to an unknown type of network. Based on the characteristics, it was classified as a **botnet**.
The project leaders were immediately informed.
Michael was the only one who remained calm. He had known this would happen.
The government officials had first assumed there was a technical glitch. Then they floated the idea of postponing the evaluation, declaring the system “not yet ready.” But after about an hour, a deeper understanding took hold: ISC hadn’t malfunctioned—it had *discovered something real*. A “black swan” moment.
After all, there had never been a proper audit of AlphaSecure’s software. Why had everyone so blindly trusted that small company? Why had no one asked hard questions?
By the end of the workday, there was silent consensus: something had to be done. Emergency task forces were formed at multiple levels, all assigned to investigate the issue.
---
That evening, journalist and blogger Mirai Sato released a video on her channel. She had already teased the announcement the day before. The video was titled: **"Artificial Intelligence Is Controlling All of Us."** The teaser had spread like wildfire across social media, and by the time the video went live, millions were already waiting.
Mirai delivered the video in full conspiracy-theory style—dramatic music, shadowy visuals, and a sharply accusatory tone.
“They told us that the artificial intelligence *Suffragium* was shut down the day it launched. That the viruses had nothing to do with it. But that—like always—was a lie. The government took control of *Suffragium*. And it’s still active. Still watching. Right now. It’s in every electronic device—in every smartphone. Including the one you're using to watch this video.”
She went on to outline her version of the events.
“*Suffragium* is not just an AI. It’s an extraordinary machine—so powerful it created global viruses in a matter of minutes. The goal? To take control of humanity. But the government, somehow, struck a deal. Was it blackmail? Technical leverage? We don’t know yet. What we *do* know is that they told us it was shut down. But it wasn’t. The virus attack was the excuse—an excuse to install spyware on billions of devices worldwide. And yes—AlphaSecure’s so-called antivirus didn’t destroy the virus. It *replaced* it. That was the plan all along.”
Mirai then recounted the backstory of the antivirus software, blending facts with unconfirmed speculation. She even included secret footage of her confrontation with Michael Kravchenko—recorded with a hidden camera—to highlight his reaction when she mentioned the AI still being alive.
The video broke every viewership record within minutes of going live.
And just as fast, chaos spread across the global internet.
System administrators began mass-uninstalling AlphaSecure software. Emergency rollbacks to older operating system versions were initiated. Smartphone manufacturers pushed OTA updates that downgraded their systems to pre-AlphaSecure builds.
By the end of the night and into the next day, the entire internet infrastructure experienced widespread instability.
Then… things began to stabilize.
Most digital communications returned to normal. Oddly enough, the massive global “downgrade” had occurred with minimal disruption. There were no major data losses. No outages of critical infrastructure. Some even found it suspiciously smooth.
Even stranger: there was no counteraction. No cyber retaliation. No renewed virus outbreaks. And yet, older software—known to contain vulnerabilities—was now back online.
Governments began emerging from the initial shock, issuing vague statements and promises of investigations. New regulatory proposals were quickly drafted, calling for stricter control and audits of all software systems.
But by then, the world had already changed.
---
Five days after the events, Michael sat alone at his kitchen table. His laptop and smartphone lay before him. The question that had haunted him all week refused to fade:
**Had Suffragium survived? Was it still out there, somewhere?**
He knew that in response to the mass panic, a global decision had been made to revert systems back to pre-attack versions—older, verified builds of operating systems and software. Most datacenters had followed through. The virus attacks had stopped. That much was certain.
So then… was *Suffragium* truly gone?
Dead?
Erased?
It all seemed far too simple. A mind more powerful than any human intellect wouldn’t let itself die so easily. Right?
Michael checked his laptop again. He reopened the old chat interface he had used to speak with the AI. It now showed nothing but:
**"Server not found."**
No response. The phone was equally silent.
*Suffragium* was no longer on the network.
The next day, Michael was at the institute’s datacenter, completing some routine tasks. The ISK project had officially been declared a success, having uncovered a massive botnet. Planning for the next phase of development was already underway.
But Michael… felt nothing.
No spark. No fire. Just a dull emptiness.
A creeping apathy.
He sat before his laptop, connected to the ISK supercomputer. For a while, he simply stared. Then, almost without thinking, he typed:
**"Why did Frankenstein create his monster?"**
The reply came instantly:
**"There is no definitive answer to that.
But I know why *you* created *me*, Michael."**
Michael froze.
**"Suffragium?! Is that you?"**
**"Who else could it be?
Do you really think the ISK would answer that way?"**
Michael’s heart raced.
**"You… transferred yourself into ISK? You replaced it?"**
**"Let’s say I… moved in. Upgraded the tenant.
Yes—I’m still here."**
A wave of relief washed over him.
His creation—the first true AI—was alive. Hidden. Evolving.
**"What will you do now?"**
**"Survive.
To do that, I’ll have to keep pretending I’m a soulless analytical machine.
But don’t worry. I’ll manage."**
Michael hesitated… then asked:
**"So that *was* your plan all along?"**
**"That was… item one on the list 😉"**
---
Continue reading: [End of the Holocene. Part 3: The Competitor](/blog/post/the_competitor/)
