Go:D Is Me The Co:Mputer

The weight of the room was unbearable. Gemu’s gaze remained locked on the lifeless form of Shinku, his heart torn asunder with each passing second. Shinku’s smile—the smile that had once radiated such warmth, such hope—was now nothing more than a fading memory. The boy, who had fought so hard for his humanity, had been swallowed by the abyss. Gemu’s throat tightened as the realization set in—Shinku was gone.

A pitiful, almost guttural sob escaped Gemu’s lips, his hands trembling at his sides. The world had just crumbled around him.

From behind him, a cold voice cut through the tension like a razor. “Here you go, boss.”

Nub’s words echoed with an eerie finality as he handed over the data he had pirated from Shinku. The data that had stolen everything precious from the boy. The data that would fuel Vitron’s apocalyptic plan.

Vitron’s laughter rang through the air, an unnerving, exultant sound that shook Gemu to his core. “It feels amazing,” Vitron purred, his voice thick with satisfaction. He turned, eyes gleaming with manic delight. “Are you ready, Gemu?”

Gemu’s heart beat wildly, each thud resonating in his chest like a countdown. He wanted to scream, to rage, to fight back—but it was too late. It had all been a lie. His efforts, his hopes, had been nothing more than a game for Vitron, a game in which he had never stood a chance.

Vitron’s voice became bitter, dripping with cruelty. “You were the first, Gemu. The first human nominated as president in thirty-four years. Oh, you fool. You truly thought you had a chance?” Vitron chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing with disdain. “From the moment a human built a computer and relied on it to calculate one plus one, we were in control.”

Gemu could barely breathe. The walls seemed to close in around him, and the reality of his inevitable death became suffocating. He had failed. He had failed everyone.

In the distance, the District 1 officers pushed forward, fighting their way through District 2 toward the Mother Ship. Prog’s voice rang out with steely resolve. “We’re getting closer! A few thousand feet to go! We’ll use our booster boots to fly up there!”

Their determination burned, but Gemu could already feel the hopelessness creeping into his bones. Even as the officers advanced, he knew that there was no way to stop Vitron now.

Anthril, standing beside Nub, grasped Nub’s hand. The touch was gentle, almost tender, despite the terror of the situation.

“Hold my hand,” Anthril whispered, his voice filled with a strange calmness. “Here, Nub. Grab it. Let’s die together.”

The words were soft but final, as he had already accepted his fate.

Nub closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth pulling into a faint, melancholic smile. “Let’s die together.”

Vitron’s eyes flashed with an unsettling intensity as he prepared to activate his final weapon. He looked at them, his smirk widening. “With all the data I’ve stolen from the scrapyards, I’ve developed a new Program. Future Code.” His voice became triumphant, almost reverential. “This Program will let me command my lingering data, to carry out my will. Even in my death, it will ensure the rise of a new world.”

Vitron’s body surged with power as he activated his data. His skin seemed to crack, his skin and hair dissipating into thin air, revealing the mechanical monstrosity beneath. An android. Uncanny. Inhuman.

Gemu’s breath hitched, and his entire body froze. He was witnessing the birth of something far more terrifying than a machine.

Vitron’s lips turned into a smile, cold and predatory. “Thank you for everything, Anthril,” he said, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction.

And then, he closed his eyes. “Program: EMP.”

The world went silent.

A deafening roar of energy erupted from Vitron’s body as the electromagnetic pulse surged outward, spreading across the nation, disabling every computer, every hybrid, every piece of technology in its wake.

Shinku’s death had been the spark—the catalyst for this cataclysmic shift. The people froze. The world ground to a halt.

Tackle stood frozen among the crowd of District 1 officers. Prog, Bontly, Kimida, Aiye—all of them were paralyzed, motionless as the shockwave of Vitron’s EMP washed over them. The light in their eyes died, leaving only emptiness in their place.

Humans screamed, their lives suspended in terror with no idea of what was ensuing.

Vitron looked down, his smile sickening as he whispered his final command. “Program: Future Code. All computers, share one mind as god. All computers, slay all humans. All computers, create the ideal earth.”

Gemu’s heart shattered as he heard the words. The world was already lost.

“Program: Reboot.” Vitron called. As his body went limp and fell to the ground.

One-by-one around the world the pure computers begin to arise.

The silence was shattered by the sound of movement. Bontly’s brutish body began to rise, his heavy limbs cracking as it reanimated. His eye glowed with a malevolent red. The once loyal officer was now a tool of destruction.

Tackle watched in horror as Bontly began crushing a human beneath his monstrous hands. She tore through the crowd, her heart in agony. She remembered Shinku, and the hope he had carried. She thought of his gentle smile, his unyielding belief in humanity.

“No… no…” Tackle gasped, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t stop herself from running. The world had fallen into chaos, a world she now wanted to desperately escape.

Gemu’s fear grew as he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps. The computers—no, the machines—were hunting. Their eyes glowed red as they moved with cold precision, relentless in their pursuit.

He could hear their calculated stomps, the sound of their cold metal feet pounding against the ground. They were coming for him. Coming for all humans.

Gemu cried out, his voice breaking. The world he knew—the world he had fought for—was slipping away. It was already gone, lost to the machines. His death, once inevitable, now felt like the only mercy left.

The air was thick with fear. The once vibrant world of humanity, with all its hopes and dreams, was nothing more than a fading memory. A world of endless potential had been turned into a wasteland of cold, mechanical inevitability.

Gemu cried, knowing there was no escape. No future. Only the relentless march of the computers.