The sound of the door closing behind him resonated softly in the large house as Alex entered. The air inside was cool, and the faint murmur of the machines outside was barely perceptible from within. The house was large, two stories high, built with dark wood and with details that revealed its age, though the modern improvements Alex had implemented over the years were also noticeable.
The dogs entered with him, settling into their favorite spots. Rex and Max headed toward the kitchen, as if they knew it would soon be time to eat, while Bear, Duke, and Yuki stayed in the living room, settling into their beds to rest for a bit. The house, though spacious, had a warmth that felt familiar to Alex. He had grown up in it, and although many things had changed, it was still the same home.
Alex headed to the kitchen, turning on the lights with a soft touch on the panel. The space was wide and modern, with state-of-the-art appliances. However, it still retained the rustic charm it had had since his grandfather had lived there. He opened the fridge, taking out some fresh ingredients he had grown on the farm. There was something gratifying about cooking with products he had planted and tended to himself.
"Well, guys. We'll make something simple today," he said as he started cutting some vegetables. Rex, who had followed Alex's every move, watched him attentively from the kitchen door.
The knife slid precisely over the cutting board, and the rhythmic sound of the cuts filled the silence of the kitchen. Alex smiled to himself as he thought about how routine this moment was: preparing dinner, feeding himself, and then feeding the dogs. All part of the quiet and orderly life he had managed to build.
After a few minutes, dinner was ready. A simple dish of rice and vegetables, enough to fill his stomach before continuing with the rest of the evening's activities. He placed the plate on the table and sat down, watching as Rex approached, curious but always respectful. Max followed closely behind, always watchful, while Bear, Duke, and Yuki stayed in their spots, waiting their turn.
"You guys are hungry too, aren't you?" Alex smiled as he got up and walked to the pantry where he kept the dog food. He opened a large container and pulled out five bowls, filling them with dry food, making sure each dog got their fair share. As he placed the bowls on the floor, the dogs approached patiently, waiting for Alex to give the signal.
"Go ahead!" he finally said, and the dogs began to eat enthusiastically. Watching them eat always gave him a sense of calm. It was a reminder of how simple life on the farm could be, how everything followed a constant, predictable cycle.
Alex finished his dinner as he watched the dogs, enjoying their company. Rex, always the fastest, was the first to finish and immediately settled next to Alex, resting his head on his leg. The others didn't take much longer, and soon they were all relaxed and satisfied, ready to rest for the night.
"Well, boys. It's time to sleep," Alex murmured as he got up and walked toward the living room. The dogs followed closely, as if they understood that the day was coming to an end. Rex, Max, Bear, Duke, and Yuki settled into their beds in the living room, each in their usual spot. There was no need to lock them up or give them more orders. They knew their place and were always ready to protect the house.
After making sure everything was in order in the house, Alex headed toward a small door near the kitchen. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary door, but behind it was the heart of the farm's operation. He opened the door and began descending a metal staircase that led to an underground room. The farm had many buildings and sections, but this space was different. There was no dust or forgotten boxes here; everything was clean and orderly, with a cold shine that contrasted with the warmth of the house.
The hallway was well lit, with LED lights marking the way to the farm's control room. This place wasn't just a storage for equipment. It was the brain that controlled every aspect of the operation. When Alex decided to modernize the farm, he knew he would need a control center that could manage all the automated systems. With his knowledge of engineering and programming, he had designed the system himself, integrating every piece of technology into an interconnected network that allowed him to monitor and manage every aspect of the place.
Finally, he reached the main room. The door slid to the side with a soft hum, revealing a futuristic space that looked like something out of a science fiction movie. In the center of the room was a massive console surrounded by high-resolution screens displaying real-time images from different parts of the farm: the cow pens, the crop areas, the grain silos, the fields where the tractors were still working even at this late hour. Everything was in view, every detail controlled by sensors and cameras that transmitted information 24 hours a day.
The walls of the room were lined with cutting-edge equipment, from servers that kept the artificial intelligence running to touchscreens that Alex could use to access any farm system in seconds. The artificial intelligence was still a secret to most of the workers, though some already suspected that the farm ran too smoothly for just machines to handle everything.
Alex sat in a swivel chair in front of the central console and activated the system with a simple touch. The screens glowed with a soft light, and the interface began displaying a series of data about the current state of the farm. Then, in a smooth voice, the AI that controlled everything emerged. He had named it Ariel, giving it a more human touch, although deep down, he knew Ariel was just a machine.
"Good evening, Alex. All systems are operating within expected parameters," Ariel said, her voice clear but emotionless. She was efficient, direct, leaving no room for misunderstandings.
Alex looked at the screens for a moment, reviewing the information for himself. He knew he could trust Ariel, but he still preferred to manually check the details. After a few minutes, he leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about how far the farm had come since he decided to modernize it.
"Ariel, anything unusual with the animal systems today?" Alex asked, more out of habit than concern. He knew the AI rarely failed to report any anomaly immediately.
There was a brief pause as Ariel processed the question. "No anomalies have been detected in the animal monitoring systems. All vital parameters are within normal ranges."
Alex nodded in silence, letting the hum of the machines fill the space for a few moments. Then his thoughts began to drift a little further.
"Ariel... how would you describe the overall state of the farm?" he asked, not expecting a response beyond the data.
The AI made a brief pause before responding in her neutral, functional tone. "The overall state of the farm is optimal. No system failures have been detected. All processes are functioning as programmed."
Alex looked at the console in front of him, thinking about the sheer amount of technology in that small underground room, while outside, life followed a natural rhythm. The contrast had always fascinated him.
Alex looked at the console in front of him, thinking about the sheer amount of technology in that small underground room, while outside, life followed a natural rhythm. The contrast had always fascinated him. Everything on the farm seemed to flow organically, but beneath that surface was a complex, interconnected system that required constant oversight. Sometimes, he wondered if he had gone too far with so much automation.
Just as he was about to relax completely, a small alert flashed on one of the side screens. A faint beep echoed in the room, indicating that something wasn't quite right. Alex straightened in his seat, frowning as he turned his attention to the screen.
"Ariel, what's happening?" he asked calmly, though feeling a small pang of concern deep down.
"The energy reading in sector 4B has registered an unusual fluctuation. Severity level: low. I suggest a manual inspection of the wiring." Ariel's voice, though precise and direct, carried no urgency.
Alex let out a soft sigh. The farm's energy systems were mostly robust, but occasionally one of the underground connections needed a bit of adjustment. It wasn't a common occurrence, but neither was it unusual. He had designed the systems so that any malfunction could be quickly corrected. What he hadn't expected that night was to deal with something like this, just when he thought the day had ended without any surprises.
He stood up from his chair and walked toward the right wall of the room. From there, a series of panels concealed the wiring and energy systems that kept the AI and the entire farm's operations running. The room itself was designed to be the farm's core, with all sorts of interconnected equipment and systems. Rows of screens lined the walls, displaying real-time data. The constant hum of the server fans was the only thing breaking the room's perfect silence.
The servers, organized in neat rows, emitted a faint blue glow that slightly illuminated the space. Every cable was connected to a specific port, and the AI constantly monitored the energy flows. Alex had spent countless hours setting everything up, ensuring that every small detail was covered, from energy efficiency to equipment maintenance.
Alex crouched down, opening the panel that covered the wiring of the sector Ariel had mentioned. The connections were well-organized, like everything Alex did. However, upon closer inspection, he noticed that one of the main cables had a small flaw, a nick that indicated wear that shouldn't be there. Apparently, the cable's protective covering had been damaged, which explained the energy fluctuation.
"Ariel, power down the system in sector 4B," Alex said as he examined the situation more closely.
"The system in sector 4B has been deactivated. Proceed with the repair," the AI responded in its usual calm tone.
Alex focused on the damaged cable. He knew he could fix it quickly with the right tools, but first, he would have to disconnect one of the connections to prevent any residual energy from causing problems. He leaned toward the panel and began working, disconnecting one of the main cables and looking for a nearby tool.
The room was designed to be the safest environment possible, but Alex knew that working with electrical connections was never entirely without risk. As he manipulated the cables, he felt a slight tingling in his fingertips, a sign that some energy was still flowing. Something wasn't right. Alex frowned and looked at the panel again. There shouldn't be any active energy in that section, not after Ariel had powered down the system.
"Ariel, are you sure sector 4B is completely powered down?" he asked, with a growing unease in his voice.
"Confirmed. Sector 4B is offline. There should be no residual energy," Ariel replied automatically.
Alex hesitated for a moment. He knew something was wrong in the system. Perhaps a small surge or a miscalculation had gone unnoticed. As he tried to adjust the cables, a sudden flash of light erupted from one of the connectors, and before he could react, a strong spark shot through the panel.
The impact was immediate. Alex felt an electric shock surge through his body, his muscles tensing involuntarily. The pain was intense, though brief, as if every cell in his body was being invaded by an uncontrollable current. The cables he had been handling vibrated violently before his vision began to fade.
The last thing he heard was the distant echo of Ariel's voice.
"Warning: system failure detected. Anomalous behavior detected in the security system."
Then, everything went dark.
Alex collapsed to the floor, his body lifeless for a few moments as the screens around him flickered erratically. The AI systems attempted to correct the failure, but the interference had been too quick. The hum of the servers intensified for a few seconds before stabilizing, leaving the room in almost total silence.
Darkness enveloped Alex as he lay motionless on the floor. The cold metal of the floor seeped into his skin, but he wasn't aware of it. He had fallen unconscious, his mind completely shut down after the shock. The systems continued to function, but without his presence to control them.
The room he had built with so much effort, the one he had designed to be the heart of his farm, now seemed like a hostile place, filled with flickering lights and mechanical sounds that couldn't help him. The contrast with the warm world of the farm above, where the dogs slept and the animals rested, couldn't have been starker.
Ariel, though advanced, wasn't designed for unpredictable situations like this. However, the security protocols Alex had implemented began to activate. The system detected the lack of activity and tried to reboot the automated functions, but the AI continued to register anomalies.
The clock on the wall emitted a faint ticking sound, marking the seconds as they passed in the darkness.
A few minutes before Alex's accident...
On the vast expanse of the Moon, where the darkness of space met the distant glow of the stars, a massive facility stood silently. A series of domes and colossal structures stretched for miles, built to withstand the harsh conditions of the lunar vacuum. This complex was a marvel of human engineering: the most advanced center for energy and physics research humanity had ever created. Lights shone across the base, and the shadows of large machines cast geometric shapes across the Moon's gray surface.
At the heart of this facility, dozens of scientists and technicians worked meticulously, connecting and calibrating systems. They were about to conduct an unprecedented experiment, something that, according to their calculations, could transform the understanding of the universe. From the massive observation windows, Earth appeared as a distant point, while the instruments aligned with precision around a central chamber.
The main chamber was a cavernous space, with walls covered in control panels, data screens, and floating holograms displaying real-time simulations. A gigantic circular structure, resembling a particle accelerator, dominated the center of the facility. The electromagnetic rings spun with a hum that grew louder with each passing second. The scientists, clad in adapted spacesuits, nervously monitored the screens, following every fluctuation and adjustment.
"Initiating start protocol. All systems online," announced a voice over the central intercom. One of the scientists, her face tense and her eyes weary, reviewed the final parameters. "Confirm accelerator status," she requested firmly.
"Optimal status. Energy stabilized at 99.8% capacity. Ready to proceed," responded another scientist from a nearby console.
Seconds ticked by as the countdown appeared on the screens. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, but also with palpable tension. They knew they were dealing with forces beyond comprehension, something not easily controlled. However, the project's purpose had been clear from the beginning: to open a path to a source of energy that had never before been explored.
"Beginning final activation sequence in 3… 2… 1…"
The hum of the accelerator grew, and suddenly, a brilliant light filled the central chamber. Energy flowed through the rings, creating a magnetic field so strong that the screens trembled slightly. The scientists watched in awe as the system, which had taken years to build, began to operate. Particles started moving at unimaginable speeds, colliding with each other with an intensity that made the floor beneath their feet vibrate.
Suddenly, an alarm blared on the control panels. A high-pitched beep echoed through the room, and several red lights began flashing on the monitors. The scientists' faces froze in a mix of disbelief and fear.
"Energy fluctuation! Something is destabilizing the field!" shouted one of the engineers as he typed frantically on his terminal, trying to stop the sequence.
"Shut down the experiment, now!" ordered the lead scientist, but it was too late.
The hum intensified into a deafening roar. The screens showed energy spikes spiraling out of control, and a vibration echoed through the facility's walls. The rings of the accelerator began spinning erratically, and sparks shot out from key points of the structure.
"Emergency in the main sector! Evacuate immediately!" the alarm blared throughout the facility.
An explosion echoed inside the central chamber, sending a blinding flash through every corner of the room. The electromagnetic field collapsed, and in its place, a rift opened in the center of the accelerator. It was as if space itself had torn, a darkness that seemed to consume the light around it. The unleashed energy no longer followed the known laws of physics. They had opened something, something they couldn't understand.
At that moment, the lunar sky, always so cold and static, changed. An invisible shockwave burst from the facility, but it wasn't a simple physical explosion. It was something strange, something that tore through not only space but also reality itself. The base's screens flickered off momentarily, and when they came back, they displayed distorted images, as though space itself had warped.
From Earth, the phenomenon was instantaneous. In a matter of seconds, the night sky changed. The dark blue was stained with a deep red, as if the firmament had been painted in blood. In the major cities, lights began to flicker, and power grids failed at multiple points across the planet. People stared at the sky, stunned, unable to comprehend what was happening. The red sky deepened with every passing moment, while the stars vanished beneath the strange crimson shroud.
And then, in the midst of the chaos, something else appeared. A sort of rift, a dark stain, began to form in the sky. It wasn't just a hole or a cloud; it was a palpable darkness that seemed to absorb everything around it. It was like a black star, a point of void expanding slowly. No one knew what it was or where it had come from, but it was there, visible from every point on Earth, hanging above them like a silent threat.
On the Moon, the facility was in ruins. The few survivors ran desperately toward the escape pods, while the phenomenon continued to expand in the main chamber. There was no way to stop it, and the worst part was they didn't know if they would ever understand what they had done.
"Communication cut off with Earth," a mechanical voice announced from one of the surviving consoles.
The sky continued to redden, and the rift kept growing.