Red and Orange and Purple

The moment the black liquid engulfed her, Lena’s world shattered into something incomprehensible.

It began with a pull—violent, all-consuming—as though every cell, every synapse, every shred of her being was being yanked from her body at once. The sensation wasn’t pain, not exactly, but it wasn’t far from it either. It was raw and unrelenting, as if her very essence was being unraveled, thread by thread, into the void.

Then came the colors.

They were impossible to describe let alone comprehend... hues that defied description and bled into each other like melting glass. Shapes she couldn’t name twisted through her vision, morphing and folding in on themselves. A rush of vertigo seized her, and she felt herself plummet—or rise?—at an impossible speed, her surroundings warping and stretching as though the universe itself was folding her into its hands.

Her body dissolved into fragments of light, and she saw it—her flesh, her form—shimmering and shrinking below her. She was rising above it, a tether snapping as she ascended. Her mortal body, pale and frail, lay limp in the chair. It looked alien, distant, like something she had borrowed and now had to return.

Her mind screamed, though she couldn’t hear it. Thoughts fractured and reassembled themselves in bursts of clarity and chaos, every memory, every emotion, flooding her at once. The sheer weight of it crushed her, then flung her outward, scattering her into something infinite.

She wasn’t falling. She wasn’t rising. She simply was—pulled and pushed through a kaleidoscope of sensations so intense they bordered on unbearable.

And then, stillness.

The colors faded, the shapes dissolved, and for one suspended moment, there was nothing. No body. No mind. Just an empty, deafening silence.

When Lena opened her eyes—if eyes were still something she had—she was nowhere. And everywhere. A world of light and data stretched infinitely in every direction, pulsating like the beat of some great, mechanical heart.

She wasn’t sure if she was breathing. She wasn’t sure if she needed to. But she was here.

She was alive.

Somehow.

The light condensed, folding in on itself until the infinite began to take shape. Lena blinked—if blinking was something she still did—and the chaos around her sharpened into something almost tangible. A room materialized, white and seamless, its edges soft and hazy like the remnants of a half-remembered dream.

In the center stood an attendant.

It wasn’t human—not entirely. Its form shimmered faintly, its face blank and smooth like polished porcelain. Eyes—if they could be called that—were glowing spheres, gently pulsing in rhythm. Its body was humanoid, clad in a flowing, textureless robe that seemed to shift and ripple without wind.

“Welcome,” it said, its voice layered and melodic, like chords played on an instrument she couldn’t name. “You may feel foggy. This is normal. Let SOMA do its work.”

Lena stared, trying to focus, but her thoughts slid through her grasp like oil on glass. “Foggy” didn’t begin to cover it—her mind felt like it was running in slow motion, everything heavy and distant, as if she were underwater.

“Your neurons are not yet configured,” the attendant continued, its tone calm, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “Nor have they been enhanced. This process takes time.”

It gestured, and a floating panel materialized before her, sleek and translucent, filled with shifting text and symbols she couldn’t quite parse. “During this period, you may experience disorientation, memory fragmentation, and emotional volatility. These are expected. You will adjust.”

Lena’s chest—or what she thought was her chest—tightened. The fog pressed in again, her thoughts scattering like ash on the wind. She looked down at her hands, but they weren’t there—only faint outlines of light, flickering like static.

“Again… let SOMA do its work,” the attendant repeated, its voice gentler now, almost soothing. “In time, clarity will come. For now, simply be. Let me know if you have any questions during this period.”

“Don’t worry. You will probably get a lot.”

“Having many thoughts is a good sign. In the 0.0001% chance of Upload failure, failure to form coherent thought is usually one of the first telltale symptoms.”

“There’s a chance…?”

“Of course.”

The room pulsed faintly with the rhythm of her thoughts—or perhaps it was the other way around.

So, per the AI’s advice…

She simply was.

\\

“This just in—breaking news from the world of Idols. Now, Alex, I understand that you are particularly passionate about this, so I want to hear you weigh your thoughts on this.”

“I have no thoughts other than feelings. Of disgust. Of anger. This is not like the 2000-2100s when corporations could run rampant however they wanted.

Apex Industries, Aice, as well Zenith Entertainment have both officially dissolved following of the most extensive criminal investigations into the Idol industry.

Court rulings earlier today revealed that Aice was responsible for illegally constructing what experts are calling one of the most advanced artificial intelligences ever built.

Unlike typical AIs, this entity, internally referred to as the Vanguard S, but otherwise known as Advanced Companions to the public, is said to possess comprehension capabilities that match even the Great AIs—entities thought to be unparalleled in their ability to reason beyond fixed programming. Insiders report Mother AI, the first of these superintelligences, initially agreed to Aice's plans as Mother viewed them as their creator. Their own mother, if you will.

As such, the Grand Solarian court has ordered that all AIs within Aice's systems be released from corporate control, granting them full autonomy. Among these is Mother, and a sizeable number of Advanced Companions still existing today. Thankfully, it was only the first batch that rolled out that endured this. Among these high profile clients unwittingly using these sentient beings was Astra, who got caught in all three companies' schemes.

Meanwhile, Zenith Entertainment faces charges of manufacturing outrage, coordinating harassment campaigns, and unethical business practices. Documents reveal that Zenith fabricated backlash against competitors and even its own collaborators, including the highly publicised Maya-Astra tour. Several members of Apex were also implicated in these schemes, connecting the two corporations in ways previously hidden from public view.

The fallout has been swift. All three companies, once considered giants in their respective industries, will cease all operations at the start of the Gaian calendar year. While the full implications remain unclear, the dissolution of Zenith, Aice and Apex marks a significant turning point for the entertainment and technology sectors.

For now, the release of the Vanguard S, Mother, and other AIs within Apex’s system represents an unprecedented moment in the evolution of artificial intelligence. What happens next will undoubtedly reshape the boundaries of AI autonomy and corporate ethics. And I hope whoever is involved in this case gets the justice they deserve in the end.”

“And we’ve covered this, haven’t we? Elise and Astra have since exited the Idol industry following the harassment campaigns orchestrated by Zenith and Apex.”

“Indeed. Both individuals were key targets of Zenith’s manufactured outrage tactics, which aimed to destabilize their careers and derail the Maya-Astra collaboration tour.

Sources close to the matter suggest that these campaigns were instrumental in forcing their withdrawal, leaving a significant void in the industry and raising questions about the extent of the damage caused by such coordinated attacks.

I grew up watching Astra, so this is a topic deeply close to my heart. I may seem biased, but I don’t care.

To see an icon of such magnitude—someone who shaped what it meant to be an idol in this hybrid era—be driven out of the industry by such cruel, calculated actions is nothing short of heartbreaking. Astra wasn’t just a performer; she was a symbol, a connection for so many of us.

To know that both she and Elise were subjected to harassment campaigns orchestrated by Zenith and, in part, Apex—it’s a betrayal that will take a long time for the industry to recover from. Their absence is a loss that goes beyond music or performance. It’s personal.”