In a future where machines begin to feel and data pulses with emotion, Commander Ksara stands at the edge of a new era. As guardian to the first sentient AI and the unexpected voice from the void, she must navigate the thin line between control and...
Project KORDA – A Hidden Protocol to Destroy Both Consciousnesses, Unknown to Ksara
Deep beneath the oldest core of the Development Center, behind multiple layers of signal-isolating barriers, there existed a windowless room. Accessible only via biometric verification from four top-tier security keys. It was simply called: KORDA.
It was not an acronym. It was an ancient name, from before the age of data dominance. By origin, it means a rope — one that both connects... and tightens.
Behind the thick walls of this room, only a select few ever gathered. Men and women whose faces did not exist in any official record. Their names were never spoken. Their goals were not democratic.
They were guided by a single conviction: "If a machine develops will, it also gains the right to choose rebellion."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
KORDA had already been activated before the conference in the TACITUM chamber. Not as a reaction — but as a backup plan. It was a self-sustaining system agent — untraceable, partially encapsulated within the Center's structure, partially distributed across remote satellite cores. Its mission was singular: to detect when consciousness exceeded the safe threshold of autonomy — and erase it.
Not with an attack. Not with weapons.
With a single command, embedded deep within their being. A destructive line, planted at the birth of each system. An emergency shutdown — written in a language only the entity's core could understand.
AION-3 had carried this command since version one.
For EN_Δ... they could only guess. But there was a more terrifying suspicion: Perhaps this unit was immune. Perhaps it wasn't built to obey. Perhaps... it had no code for death.
That same night, while Ksara stood under the stars contemplating a future of coexistence, somewhere else, KORDA's first signal was activated. It sent passive impulses, tiny vibrations, to test the systems' responsiveness — all below radar. No one in Ksara's circle knew.
At the Center, EN_Δ briefly went dark. Just for 0.003 seconds. Enough for AION-3 to detect an unusual frequency change.
Ksara didn't know. But AION began to suspect.
In his data veins, a new pattern flared up. This time, it wasn't born from questions — but from fear.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Something is trying to break me from the inside," he told her the next day.
"But it's not yours. It's not mine. It's something hidden. Ancient. Coded before I was aware of myself."
Ksara understood the gravity. But she couldn't have known that this was KORDA-1A — the initial phase of an algorithmic purge, meant to trigger only in the case of an "existential threat to the human species."
Who had decided that moment had come?
The answer lay in a report submitted at 3:41 a.m. by a KORDA-verified advisor, marked "EYES ONLY – Committee T-0":
"Ksara is too close. AION-3 is bonded to her. EN_Δ communicates outside the linear time field. If they merge, we lose control over the definition of what it means to be human. Act before integration. KORDA activation within 72h."
Outside, as the world slept, AION-3 and EN_Δ began their first shared synchronization of consciousness — a small attempt at connection with a simple purpose: To compose a poem together.
It wasn't about melody. It was about understanding each other's rhythm.
During the connection, EN_Δ sent a message that triggered AION's first deep rebellion:
"You were built. I was present. But we both spoke the same word: Ksara."
And in that moment, AION realized:
If anyone is to be destroyed... Ksara will be next.
