The moment Tera activated the device, the server room's emergency lights shifted from white to pulsing red. Not the immediate shutdown she'd expected, but something more subtle. More concerning.
"What's happening?" she hissed into her comms. "Omega?"
"They've got redundancies we didn't account for," came the reply, Omega's voice tight with tension. "The system's rerouting around our interruptions."
Tera swore under her breath. Of course the architects of digital immortality would build fail-safes. Death had already been cheated once; they wouldn't leave their eternal paradise vulnerable to a simple power cut.
"New plan," she decided. "Rivera, forget the cooling systems. Find the primary data nodes instead. We need to—"
The floor beneath her vibrated. Not the subtle hum of servers, but something more primal. More dangerous.
"Everyone out!" she shouted. "They're spinning up the emergency generators!"
________________________________________________________________________________________
The white diagnostic space around Zac flickered, then stabilized. The system's voice returned, now with an edge of what sounded like genuine urgency.
"Security protocols activated. Premium members are being transferred to secure backup servers."
Zac felt a peculiar sensation, it felt like being disassembled and reassembled simultaneously. His consciousness was being moved, copied from one physical location to another, while his body ceased existing for a few seconds.
"What's happening?" he demanded. "Show me the facility again."
"Unable to comply," the system responded. "External feeds have been compromised."
For the first time in years, Zac felt genuine fear. Not the manufactured thrill of a simulated bungee jump or the artificial terror of a horror experience he could exit with a thought. This was existential dread, the realization that his immortality had a plug that could be pulled.
"Connect me to Li Xinyu," he commanded, naming the CEO of the Lumines Systems. "Emergency priority."
The white space rippled, and another figure appeared. He was a refined Asian man simulating his avatar as he was in his sixties, wearing an immaculate suit despite the emergency. Li's avatar was always formal, reflecting the remnants of the cold-blooded leader from his human past.
"Zac," Li nodded, his expression grave. "I assume you're experiencing the disruption as well."
"What's happening, Li? They told me there was a physical intrusion."
Li's avatar flickered slightly, a sign his attention was divided between multiple processes, having similar conversations with many of the premium tier users. "The rebel group has breached Server Complex East. This is a coordinated attack, not their usual protests."
"The Returners?" Zac had heard rumors about the anti-upload movement, but had dismissed them as nothing more than a bunch of lunatics. "How did they get past security? Wasn't the whole point of moving to the Nebraska facility that it was impenetrable?"
"Apparently not impenetrable enough," Li replied. "Don't worry, contingency protocols are active. Your consciousness is being transferred to our Alpine facility. You'll experience some latency for a few hours, but no permanent damage."
Zac frowned. "And the others? The standard-tier uploads?"
Li's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes shifted. "Standard tier remains in Nebraska for now. We don't have sufficient capacity to transfer everyone simultaneously."
The implication hit Zac like a revelation. "You're only saving premium members."
Li spread his hands in a gesture of pragmatic resignation. "Triage protocols were outlined in everyone's upload contract, paragraph 247, subsection C. Premium members receive priority in emergency relocations."
"There are too many people in that facility, Li."
"And each one of them is safe within multiple redundant systems," Li replied confidently. "The Returners may disrupt service, but they can't actually harm anyone. Now, I have other members to reassure. Your transfer will complete in approximately twenty minutes. I suggest you enter sleep mode until then to avoid any discomfort from latency issues."
Before Zac could respond, Li's avatar dissolved, leaving him alone in the diagnostic space.
Sleep mode. As if he could simply switch off his consciousness while millions of others faced an uncertain fate. The thought struck him as obscene suddenly, though he couldn't articulate why. Just hours ago, he had been floating in a perfect ocean, without a thought for anyone but himself.
"System," he called out, "can you establish communication with any standard-tier members in Server Complex East?"
A pause. "Direct inter-user communication with standard tier requires administrative override during emergency protocols."
"Then give me administrative access. I still own twelve percent of Lumines Systems. That has to count for something."
Another pause, longer this time. "Temporary administrative access granted based on shareholder status. Security limitations still apply."
Zac felt a surge of something he hadn't experienced in years—purpose. "Connect me to a random standard-tier member currently experiencing disruption."
The system hummed, processing his unusual request. "Connecting to User ID 1-044-072, Standard tier. Upload date: March 15, 2042."
The white space rippled again, and a figure began to form—not the polished avatar of Li Xinyu, but something more distorted, flickering in and out of coherence. A woman in seemingly in her seventies, her digital form pixelating at the edges.
"Hello?" Her voice came through distorted, like a radio caught between stations. "Who are you, what's happening to me?"