[Data Breaking is Complete]
"You can enter now," Heart confirmed.
Max stepped forward, the metal door hissing open. The interior of the chamber was surprisingly pristine. Unlike the rest of the vault, which had succumbed to time and decay, this room was untouched—hermetically sealed, its environment carefully maintained by the last remnants of the facility's power supply.
Max whistled as he took in the sight before him. "This guy really didn't hold back."
The room was a personal sanctum, separate from the rest of the vault's technological cache. It wasn't filled with advanced machinery or experimental tech like he expected. Instead, it was a museum of memories.
Lining the walls were shelves filled with physical photographs, each one carefully preserved. A family portrait caught his eye—Alexander Vale standing beside his wife and two children, all smiling, seemingly frozen in time. A transparent case protected a collection of their personal belongings: a child's toy, a woman's locket, a well-worn notebook filled with sketches of what looked like the first concept art for his digital utopia.
Max exhaled. "Looks like he did everything he could to keep them here… even after the world went to hell."
A small monitor beside the case flickered to life. The screen displayed a recording—grainy footage of a haggard man, eyes sunken but burning with determination. Alexander Vale, long dead, but his final words preserved.
"To whoever finds this message... my time has run out. But this world... our world... it doesn't have to end here."
Max leaned in, listening carefully as the grainy recording played. The man on the screen—Alexander Vale—looked gaunt, his eyes sunken and his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
"I... I spent the rest of my time here with my family," Vale continued, his breath hitching. "It gave me... perspective. I see it now. I understand... I was wrong. My work, my creation... it wasn't meant for this world."
A bitter laugh escaped him, his shoulders shaking slightly. "I thought I was saving them. But it's been 200 years... everyone else is gone. My wife... my sons... they died, and I remained. The only survivor. Was this what I wanted?"
Max noticed the shaking hands of the man on the screen. His words became more erratic, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I can't... I can't do this anymore."
He took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto the screen. "If you're seeing this, and you wish to recover my mind... my consciousness... it's stored in my lab. The access key is right here."
He tapped a metallic device on the desk in front of him—a sleek, high-tech laptop, still pristine despite the passage of time. A moment later, he let out a weary sigh.
"This is my last entry," he murmured. "If... if my son ever sees this... I'm sorry. I wanted to be there. I wanted to see the world we built together. But... it's been two hundred years. Everyone else is gone. And I... I can't keep going anymore."
He reached off-screen, and Max already knew what was coming. There was a soft click, a sharp breath, and then—
A gunshot.
The screen flickered. Static filled the vault as the video cut off.
Max let out a long breath. "Damn, Vale... You really didn't wanna see what the world became."
[ Data logs detected. Would you like to access additional files? ] Heart inquired.
Max exhaled and glanced at the laptop on the desk, its surface covered in a fine layer of dust. He reached out, fingers hovering over the keyboard, then he cracked a small grin.
"Yeah. Let's see what you left behind, Alexander."
"Ah, seems like he's got some kind of recognition system," Max muttered, his eyes narrowing at the flickering screen. The voice of Alexander Vale rang out again, more mechanical this time, as if it were being processed through an artificial intelligence system.
[ "My analysis indicates you have zero relation to me. You are not my descendant." ]
Max raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's rude." He crossed his arms and stared at the screen, unbothered. "But I gotta say, pretty impressive you're still running after 200 years. Most of this world's tech is rusting away, but here you are, still kicking."
[ "State your purpose." ]
"Relax, old man," Max replied. "I'm just here to look. You said you didn't want this world to end here, right? Maybe I can help with that."
The screen flickered again.
[ "Elaborate." ]
Max smirked. "Well, I'm building something too. Something that might be able to save this place. And maybe... just maybe, you can help."
A long pause. The sound of old fans whirring filled the silent chamber. The room was filled with rusting equipment, dust-covered consoles, and flickering screens displaying cryptic data streams.
Finally, the AI spoke.
[ "Very well. But if you misuse what I give you… I will make sure you regret it." ]
Max couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, old man. I'm not like you.".
With that, the download began. The screen scrolled with lines of code as Alexander Vale's final message unraveled into a cascade of data, revealing long-buried secrets.
As the information loaded, a robotic voice echoed through the chamber.
[ "You fool. Did you really think you could deceive me so easily? My biometric scanners detect no genetic relation. You are not my descendant." ]
Max raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Hah. Screw you, old man. I actually thought your design was something special, but it seems you were just another paranoid relic of a dead age."
He folded his arms, watching as the flickering screen displayed the final log of Alexander Vale. The figure on-screen stared at Max with a hollow expression, his eyes dim, devoid of life and full of melancholy. The last moments of a man who had once dreamed of outliving the apocalypse, only to realize he had simply delayed the inevitable.
[ "You really think my design is amateur work?" ] the AI's voice taunted, as if it could see the smirk on Max's face.
Max sighed. "If you were that smart, you wouldn't have ended up dying alone in this tomb, old man. Now, let's see what kind of treasure you buried with yourself."
With a smirk, he approached a large metallic pod in the center of the room, brushing off the thick layer of dust covering its sleek surface. The screen displayed a progress bar, showing that the download was almost complete. He watched intently, waiting for the secrets of the past to be unveiled.
***
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It's 22 chaps ahead