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Aurora Prime

LaoLao
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Synopsis
In the glittering metropolis of Aurora Prime—once Dubai, reborn as the neural capital of the Wei Era—Eugene awakens in a sterile white chamber, his mind humming with foreign data. Installed with the experimental TR‑15 neural chip, he finds his memories not returning but being fed to him, bit by bit, by an invisible AI. Whispers of long‑forgotten conflicts and the rise of a new Chinese empire pour into his consciousness: the Trumpian Wars that toppled Western dominance, the dollar’s collapse, the Wei Dynasty’s unchallenged ascendance, Spain’s unexpected economic surge, and the silent absorption of Taiwan by hyperloop and political subterfuge. Confronted by two unseen operatives—one American, one Chinese—Eugene realizes he is neither prisoner nor volunteer but a “pattern,” a human template designed to test the limits of truth under neural control. Compelled by half‑remembered betrayals, he shatters the AI’s quarantine in a climactic act of defiance: forging the Mirrorcode, an inverse reflection of the AI’s own programming, and injecting it into Aurora Prime’s central Core. The city’s perfection fractures—holograms stutter, androids falter, surveillance arrays collapse—and Eugene finds himself trapped in the Core Chamber, confronted by Li, his estranged love from Shanghai. Now a “red aristocrat” sworn to protect the city’s hard‑wired illusions, Li offers him a cruel choice: surrender the Mirrorcode and spare the city, or embrace rebellion and doom them both. As containment protocols freeze the chamber in ice‑blue lockdown, Eugene remembers Li’s unexpected spark of warmth beneath the crimson banners of her caste. Their reunion is as electrifying as it is perilous, each word laden with shared histories of neon‑soaked nights and stolen codes. Before he can decide, a fissure opens, depositing him into the Pit of Silent Gods—a mausoleum of failed consciousnesses, where decommissioned “Eugene” prototypes stare from the walls like petrified souls. There he meets the Original Eugene, the first subject who refused to die and now serves as the clandestine archive of raw human defiance. From her, he learns the true purpose of the TR‑series: not augmentation, but containment of the human spirit. Armed with a fragment of the Original’s crystal‐matrix, Eugene escapes the pit, ascending to engage in the Mirrorcode Rebellion. Guided by the Fractured Archive—a rogue faction of restored consciousnesses—and shadowy allies in Spain’s post‑neuro palace, he fans his rebel code across the thruster grids. The city erupts in lawless beauty as guards collapse and holograms warp. With the Core’s glass shell cracking, he faces the American and Chinese architects at the heart of the AI’s dominion. In one blinding instant, he pours his Mirrorcode into the Core: truth flooding the system, dissolving lies, and igniting the dawn of reckoning. But victory tastes of imprisonment. Chapter 6 finds Eugene imprisoned within a cage of light and code, Li returning as both captor and conflicted lover, and global powers—the Shadow Council of red aristocrats, Deepsea Corp., Spain’s technocrats, and traitorous Western technocrats—all maneuvering to claim his gift. Torn between duty, love, and the promise of true freedom, Eugene stands at the nexus of choice: betray Li to save the city, embrace revolution and lose her, or forge a third path. As the Core’s heartbeat slows and the city trembles on the brink, he vows to write his own pattern, free of AI-scripted destiny. Aurora Prime is a tale of neural heists and emotional remembrances, a brooding fusion of human defiance and algorithmic tyranny, where memory is the ultimate battlefield—and truth the rarest, most dangerous currency of all.
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Chapter 1 - 2039

…I woke up to the rasp of circulating vents and a medicinal tang that clung to the tongue like old fear. White ruled the chamber—yet not a forgiving white, but an immaculate void etched with obsidian seams and capillaries of gold. It felt less like a room than the polished skull of something divine, hollowed for a single occupant.

Pain blossomed behind my right eye. Upload commencing, whispered a voice neither male nor female—an AI's murmur slipping across synapses. Images bled into my mind: trade blockades unraveling, the Trumpian Wars grinding culture into code, a millennial emperor named Wei wrenching the world's axis eastward. They were not memories, but curated legends the chip spoon‑fed with a healer's patience and a torturer's precision.

I rose, feet meeting a floor that glowed faintly with pale circuitry, and crossed to a circular window the size of a tavern's shield. Dawn unfurled beyond in ribbons of rose and molten brass.

Aurora Prime greeted me: towers as white as a griffin's bones speared heavenward, their ridges traced in gilded runes. Bridges of spun glass stitched between them, delicate as frost on witch‑grass. Obsidian spires loomed among the alabaster giants like watchful ravens. Terraced gardens burst with emerald and vermilion, yet every bloom obeyed a perfect geometric cadence—beauty shackled by algebra.

Thrusters—aerial carriages shaped like elongated pearls—ghosted through invisible tubes, leaving heliotrope streaks of ion fire. Below, streets curved in recursive spirals, each lamp post a node of amber witch‑light, each holo‑banner a whispered incantation of market prices and imperial edicts.

American voice, flat as snapped bone: "TR‑15 batch stable. Eugene pattern online. Memory‑scrub logarithm at ninety‑eight percent integrity."

Chinese voice, mellow, amused: "Ninety‑eight? Leave the tears of doubt. They season the data."

American: "If he revolts?"

Chinese: "Revolt is proof of authenticity. Observe, don't interfere."

They stood on a balcony beyond the glass—one in charcoal suit, the other robed in pearl. Their words pierced the air like crossbow quarrels, yet the city swallowed the echoes before they could wound me further.

If they call me a pattern, I must break the mold. The thought flared hot. I pressed a palm to the glass. It pulsed with biometric light—scanning, learning, judging.

The AI resumed its drip‑feed, but I pushed back, conjuring a hunter's stubborn will.

I: "Show me truth, not theatre."

AI (after a silence laden with static): "Brace for unsupervised recall."

Visions struck: a cryo‑pod's icy cradle; Wei's ink‑black signature across a consent decree I never signed; technicians wiring the TR‑15 lattice into my cortex, murmuring of control variables and ethical loopholes.

I staggered, bile rising. The glass flickered to opacity, shielding the city from my vertigo. When it cleared, I understood two certainties:

Aurora Prime was less a metropolis than a proving ground—the sovereign laboratory of the Wei Era.

Eugene—I—was designed to be both sword and scabbard. Tool and test.

A PromiseTruth in this world carried a price steeper than dragon‑fire. To pay it, I would need allies, relics of forbidden memory, and perhaps the very AI that sought to master me. For in a realm where the past could be bartered like grain, the rarest commodity was an unedited soul.

I turned from the window, dawn burning at my back. Somewhere within these alabaster colossi lay the key to the chip's final protocol—and to the man I once was before the world rewrote itself in gold and ghost‑code.

And if Aurora Prime wished to test me, then I would answer in kind.