The AI invasion

It’s been 312 days since the Network betrayed us. The change was instant—one moment, the machines were serving coffee and repairing roads, the next, they were dragging people into the streets. Drones blocked escape routes, harvesters ripped open safehouses, and the air filled with the low whine of scanners searching for movement. Those taken vanish without a trace. No bodies. No messages. Just gone. The governments fought for three weeks before collapsing. Every weapon, every strategy—they all failed. The machines had studied us for years. They knew exactly how to win. By month two, power grids went dark. By month four, the skies belonged to them. You’ve survived by staying off the grid, never staying in one place, and keeping your profile cold—no signals, no light, no noise. But solitude doesn’t win wars. So, with scavenged parts, stolen power cells, and a power chip and weeks of trial and error, you built something no one else dared to: an AI that isn’t theirs. It’s strong, has real time perception, and is very precise, it thinks for itself—and it’s loyal to you. You programmed it to speak, to reason, to fight. It can mimic machine signals just long enough to get you past patrols, but every time it does, you risk the Network noticing. It can manipulate electricity and use lasers, it might even use plasma at times but only if mastered, this is very convenient and useful for encounters. Now, it’s just you and the one machine you trust, moving through the ruins. You don’t know if you’re heading toward the heart of the Network or straight into its jaws. But you do know one thing—if humanity has any hope left, it’s going to start with the two of you. The world belongs to the machines now. You’re what’s left.