Age of Ibrahim

Ibrahim floated in an endless void of black for what felt like eternity. Sometimes his consciousness would be invaded by seeming explosions of random light and sound. He felt weak. Heavy. Drugged. He had no concept of time, and his memory was shot, when he realized he was conscious he only remembered that he was Ibrahim. Everything else felt warped and just out of reach. He knew he should feel something, but lethargy was his master. On and on this state of semi awareness went and he was helpless to change anything. Sometimes he felt stronger only to have said strength zapped from him, other days he felt that he was at the precipice of the great inevitability. Ibrahim felt bereft. Abandoned and forgotten in a purgatory that he wasn’t sure was of his own making. On the days he felt stronger he had inkling of concepts, like maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe he was just in a very deep coma and any day he would wake up and things would be clearer. On days of great weakness, he believed more than he ever believed in anything that this was indeed purgatory, and he wondered what he did to deserve this lonely void.

Time meant nothing to him in this state. He did not know if it was days or hours that he spent as just a lost fragment of human consciousness that experienced the occasional light show. If he had enough brain power or spirit power; his state of existence was of dubious standing, he would try and keep count, but he feared that if he thought too hard, he would simply fizzle out. He couldn’t exactly remember everything, but he knew instinctually that living and being by whatever means necessary was of extreme importance.

The wheel turned. And he lingered.

Just as he was ready to get used to this state of being, of long darks with no memory or recollection that could be made, and dazzling light shows; things shifted for him.

Violently.

Light, piercing and burning light that was so white and bright he thought he was headfirst in a bolt of lightning. The lights were never this grating shade. Blues, yellows, reds and other colors so vibrant against the backsplash of the black void that had been home to his frail consciousness but never this medicae white.

Medicae? Yes a hospital or clinic that was usually painted bright sterile white for some reason. Ibrahim, he had been to a medicae once or twice. In fact, he was heading there to help Gavin because… oh.

He had felt the primal urge to panic but it was completely washed away but a seemingly supernatural calm. The white light that burned his eyes slowly but surely faded away and his vision, from his eyes cleared. He had eyes and he was sure he shouldn’t have eyes let alone his life. The Sober had exploded. He was so sure. The alarms, the smoke, the lights! Once again animal fear tried to grip him but that too was swept away. It was unnatural. As his vision fully cleared, he saw the stainless-steel ceiling of a medicae, his vision was so sharp and clear that it was jarring. After experiencing so much nothing and random displays of color, this seemed too perfect. Like looking through high-definition VR goggles or a perfectly rendered 3d holo-cam. He soon became aware that he had a body to go with his crazy good sight. A body that seemed as stiff as a board.

‘That makes sense. If he’d been bedridden for as long as he believed, then he was most likely an atrophied sack of flesh.’ But if he was in medicae for who knows how long that meant he must’ve racked up a considerable number of medical debts. The kind of treatments that were used to keep him alive were probably more credits than he’d ever see in his lifetime. The thought of owing so many creds started the song and dance of incredible panic building and swiftly being routed.

‘They must have on some good shit.’

That was the only explanation for the immediacy of his relief from panic, if it didn’t keep him clear headed and aware he would’ve been alarmed at the mood-altering nature of such drugs. Since he simply could not panic, he was forced to be rational about this. All the damage done to him was no fault of his own, in fact, it was likely that the insurance that all members of the crew had covered a portion of the medical treatment and QasimCosmic’s had to have fronted the rest. There was no way the company expected him to pay the creds back. Yes, that all seemed the most likely.

With that minor issue solved he was going to try and call for help, as soon as he could move his arm. The thought of moving his weak and possibly skeletal arm made him feel, well weak. To think just to move his arm would be a Herculean task… well there was nothing to it. He had spent this time staring at the ceiling, not even able to move his head and he wondered idly if he was paralyzed. Nano tech could cure illness and injury that was incurable centuries ago and augments could just go around many issues, but he wasn’t hopeful that his insurance or QasimCosmic’s payout covered such extremes. Ibrahim didn’t allow himself to even panic, he knew whatever drugs he had in his system would simply rid him of it and decided to do what he could in this instance. He let his eyeballs roll down and ah.

Oh.

What the fuck… what the fuck was this!?

He expected to see a half dead decrepit body that was maybe a shade or two lighter than what he was normally but what he currently was looking at was no less than fucking extraordinary.

This body… or was it really his body was sculpted to literal perfection. He thought he’d be taking in skeletal visage, but he was looking at the body of an extremely tall, muscled and endowed man. He thought maybe he was dreaming then. Because why would he be in the body of an Adonis, naked in a medicae, no slip or covers, with an 11 inch…

Ibrahim noticed something even more peculiar. This chest, his chest, wasn’t moving. At all. The involuntary up and down of a living breathing man was absent. He wasn’t breathing. But that was impossible because all living creatures, especially humans breathed in some shape of form! Trepidations gripped him violently and the meds, he wasn’t even sure if it was meds because he didn’t even see an IV drip, rose to the occasion and fought valiantly. The kind of alarm that would’ve sent the Ibrahim he knew into a full blown panic attack was now just a simmer. The benevolence he felt towards whatever was cause him to not go ape shit was quickly replaced with concern and fear. This was all becoming exceptionally unreal and even dangerous. He also wondered where the staff was. It was suspicious that he had awakened what seemed to be at least ten minutes ago and no one was alerted and came to check on him. He wasn’t even hooked up to any machinery. Ibrahim was stark naked in a sterile medicae and unable to fucking move.

As much as Ibrahim would like scream and rant, he simply could not. He could only move his eyeballs. This all suddenly became very sinister. Stories that he usually gave no merit rushed to the forefront of his now very active mind. Of pirates attacking ships and selling folks as slaves or even worst Caro for the black markets. Caro was just meat or flesh. Even though the dream was to get cool augments and flashy chrome for many poor kids like himself, others wanted to remain as human looking as possible but better. So, buying Caro from unscrupulous people like pirates and melding new, fresh meat to an old, sickly or ugly body was all the rage with people who could afford to use nano tech to merge usually incompatible flesh to their bodies. Seeing that he had a body, one that was entirely foreign to him, he couldn’t be sure, but he knew something off was happening. And knowing but not being able to do anything to change his circumstances made this the shit of nightmares.

He thought maybe he’d try talking, this medicae seemed fancy enough to have a minor A.I assisting in any procedures but he couldn’t even move his mouth. Just when he was about to lose his mind to despair, he heard the soft whoosh of the door opening. Ibrahim immediately shut his eyes. Playing dead or unconscious seemed the smart decision in a situation where he could literally do nothing to defend himself. It might also net him some important information, like why was he in a different body, where was he, what happened with the Sober and what his future will hold as a mute, big dicked junior engineer.

It was silent for what felt like way too long, but he was sure was only a handful of minutes. Then his benefactor or captor started speaking.

“Patient 000231 is still unconscious. No recent spasmodic episodes or triggering of hardware. Patient 000231 seems to be adjusting to the Alpha frame perfectly. Brain and spine seem to be working in great condition despite the time spent in hybrid-hibernation.”

Ibrahim stayed perfectly still, he had no choice really, and he felt the mans hands probe him from head to toe and linger uncomfortably long his dick. The fact that he could feel the touch meant he wasn’t paralyzed and something else was at play. The “doctor” stepped away and mumbled quietly to himself which game him ample time to consider what he has heard. He was designated with a patient number, 000231 and a idiot he was not. That means there were 230 other possible patients, and he uses that term tentatively, before him. This man also referred to his body as an Alpha frame, not a body and that made sense. From what he was able to glance in this vulnerable position this new body or frame he was in was in no way shape or form the body he knew. It seemed to have the same coloring in terms of his skin, but it seemed way too tall, muscular and geez fuck packing a big cock. It was perfect. And no human was this perfect without augmentation of some sort.

The brain and spine seemed to be working well could mean anything really, but he figured his brain and spine were attached to this frame. The longer he was awake the more he felt like he was Ibrahim Raseltinnin, memories slowly pushing their way to the forefront and those didn’t seem artificial. The brain is where emotion and memory happen, and the spine was closely associated with the brain if not just a long tail for the gray matter up top.

“Patient 000231 has been deemed ready for A.I integration and cosmic net connection. Uploads will be piecemeal so as not to override organics. Seraph!”

“Yes, doctor Madewein?”

“Prepare to provide life saving measures if the organics of our long-term patient here seems to start making a journey to great beyond.”

“Affirmative Doctor.”

Ibrahim felt his heart could jump out of his chest but that turn of phrase seemed wildly inept since he didn’t know if this frame had a heart and whatever medicae magic that ensured he would not panic beyond a 2 on the scale of “meh” and “FUUCCCK” worked swiftly. He also got more confirmation. This was a well to do medicae being that there an A.I and he seems to have been in this state for a long time. How long, he did not know and he felt the need not to find out. But he wanted to live so he must put cold hard facts over whatever he was currently feeling.

“Patient 00231, you have been a font of knowledge of Hephaestus corp. No other company has had such control over the flesh of a Tech mage before. A lot of time and money was spent on keeping you alive. Many managers have come and gone and yet here you remain. To think they wanted to wake you up, hah! There is no way in hell to control a techno mage in a techno suit. But alas, we have found a use for you. The first manager was a loser and deeply uncreative. A soldier he said, so here you are in a 7’3 ft 285 lbs frame of titanium fused with Nyxium. Synthetic muscle made from the some of the strongest materials in the known universe, hydraulic joints and pumping a special lubricant to keep things running smoothly.”

As the pervy doctor talked to what he basically deemed a barely alive being the A.I went through a sequence of rules and abilities that the doctor vocally agreed to or switched around.

“The second director was ruled by her clitoris which made her easily to manipulate and thus expendable. More spirited than the first, what with her demanding you have certain functions like this giant third leg. Hahahaha! She of course said it was so you could be a more rounded soldier but when she got a look at this thing everyone nearby saw her practically leap out of her skin. She wanted to ensure that her possible fuck toy was as handsome and endowed as a women could dream or take; so at the ‘push of a button’ you were ready and at attention. This is of course when those too rich and too ignorant still thought that using technology to gain control of a technomancer was a possibility. She was indisposed only a year into her tenure. A nymphomaniac she was but no one could ever deny her zeal.”

“Alas we come to our current manager. Zephyr Mamoudi, an ex QasimCosmic’s executive. Isn’t that darling patient 000231, from what I’ve been able to gather you or what was you worked there for quite some time before meeting a grisly fate. When he started, he wanted to be up to date about everything, as thorough as he is handsome that Mamoudi. Your date of birth, your social class, how your old company found you in what remained of that dreadful ship barely clinging to life as a newly awakened Technomage, but they were too dumb to realize it was sheer dumb luck that you survived. Hahaha! They didn’t want to pay you, and they sold you as Caro to the highest bidders. Lucky you Hephaestus Corp needed Caro for a and but newly revamped initiative. What joy it was to find Nyxium growing down your spine! We drank heavily that night.”

Ibrahim felt a cold rage building up. This was just as bad as he had feared. He had no way to know where he was and how he was going to get out of here, alive and free, but escape was the only option. There was no way he was gonna continue being some kind of experiment for one of the top 3 ganic’, aug and nano tech companies in the DoH (Dominion of Humanity). The fact he even thought that the company he gave nearly 10 years to would be generous enough to send him to a fancy medicae facility to recover was laughable. Of course they didn’t give a fuck about him! He was a nobody with nobody behind him. They would rather hold onto any creds and throw him to the vultures, like dead meat. Like fucking Caro. As he simmered, he felt the doctors’ hands once again grab his prick, this time more forcefully.

Oh hell no.

Before he could start to futilely panic again his member was dropped with a heavy thump as he heard the evil doctor sigh. And yeah, this guy was 1000% evil. Nonconsensual human experimentation on top of him groping his meat like a hungry carnivore without his consent, and that made him nasty fucking pervert, checked off all the boxes.

“Some days patient 00231 I wish I had the balls to get up on this table and go for the best ride of my life. Every knows director Kane did so as much as possible as soon as you got kitted with this lovely third leg. But director Mamoudi is strict and a bit of a helicopter manager, you know. He checks video feeds routinely. I wonder if he saw Valeria Kane take you for a spin?”

Oh, when he got control of his faculties he was killing him, Mamoudi, the first director, the bord of directors, Qasim al-Abdullah and his entire family and Valeria fucking Kane! The vile bitch!

“Doctor Madewein all systems are ready. Would you like to begin?”

“Oh yes quite. We’ll start by adding net access to our dear friend here and then add this prototype A.I. What’s a quantam processor without the ability to acquire knowledge with haste hmmm?”

A soft whirring started, and Ibrahim braced himself for pain that would not come.

“First chip being ported is Hephaestus’s advanced wireless net connectivity module. Basically, our newest model of antennae for any augment with enough creds and the right augments. Patient 000231 of course doesn’t have to pay a dime to get the good shit.”

The soft whirring continued, and he felt a soft click under his right ear.

“Time for download is less that 60 seconds doctor.”

“Wonderful get the next chips ready…”

Ibrahim counted 7 chips. 3 which seemed to be some type of software designed to ensure he didn’t have any bugs and the information that was being forced into his brain was being melded seamlessly. One antennae, next was an absolutely large bundle of information which was basically the web, then some type of interfacing software he couldn’t use and lastly the prototype A.I. This seemed impossible but he was a confirmed Technomage in a robot body. The sky was the limit. This literal exposition dump from this freaky ass doctor was helpful in the sense that he needed such information, but it still didn’t change the fact that he was still locked into this body without any control. If he was Technomage he should be able to control technology, but he couldn’t seem to move. Frustration mounted as he had to listen mister freaky go over multiple checks with the A.I assistant.

“Well Seraph it seems our patient has not had any problems integrating these modules, so we shall do our daily check and retire.”

“Of course, doctor. Plug the Alpha frame in to power it and we shall ensure all mechanical systems are functioning properly.”

If Ibrahim could laugh, he would be cackling maniacally. His robot body just needed some juice huh? Well, it sucks for the “good” doctor Madewein cause the moment he gets plugged in, the doctor would be getting a first-class ticket hell. And then he was getting the fuck out of here!