Amidst a sea of professors, I listened to a lecture delivered by the chairman of the country's Association of Professor Organizations, of which I am a member. The gathering was monumental, the air thick with anticipation.

"AS FOR TODAY, WE HAVE ACHIEVED A GREAT MILESTONE! HOPE! FOR THIS NATION! NO! NOT ONLY FOR THIS NATION—FOR THIS PLANET! WE ARE ABLE TO RECONSTRUCT CIVILIZATION WITH THIS ROT! BECAUSE WE HAVE CREATED 'GOF' AND ALSO..." said the speaker.

The speaker, an orator rather than a scientist, represented the protestors and their fervent supporters. Their words were laden with collective emotion, yet to my ears, they were nothing but hollow rhetoric.

My colleagues and I shared a collective disbelief at the offensive nature of the speech. "So bothersome... better go to sleep," I muttered under my breath. The ceremony, meant to celebrate the groundbreaking creations of scientists and professors, was not to my liking. I belonged to a minority group that openly rejected the 'God' initiative, and as such, I opted out of the festivities.

"What have you decided to do, my dear old friend? This is just the beginning," said a familiar voice as I made my way to the building designated for scientists and professors. The speaker, an old acquaintance, continued, "I don't know why you chose to join them. Betray us?" His tone was accusatory, laced with disappointment.

"You know what? Maintain your idealistic outlook, and you'll remain in this state forever," he added. I listened silently, puffing on a cigarette, before turning away to return to my quarters.

"There's a traitor in the your minor group. You'll find out soon enough, and you'll thank me. Our friendship remains intact despite my recent... alignment. I'll protect you and that woman, kehehe," he chuckled ominously as I walked away.

His laughter faded as I entered the robot development and training facility, leaving his words behind. This was not a place for idle experiments; it was where real advancements occurred. On my way to my room, my communicator buzzed. A message from a Rat instructed me to gather at a new location. The sudden change was unsettling.

"Hmm? The location's changed. Something must have happened," I thought. "Could it be his doing?" The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I decided to remain vigilant. Reluctantly, I altered my destination and headed to the new meeting point, Lab 032.

Lab 032 was a former test chamber for plant cyborgs, an experiment that had failed spectacularly. The goal had been to create plants capable of withstanding extreme heat, but even cyborg-enhanced vegetation couldn't endure the direct intensity of unfiltered sunlight. Nature had its limits, and no technology could overcome them.

When I arrived, several individuals were already present. One of them, visibly agitated, addressed me. "I saw you talking to that scoundrel," he accused.

"It was a brief conversation," I replied calmly, keeping my composure despite his emotional outburst. "He wanted me to abandon my ideals, but I dismissed him. I see the truth and reality clearly, something you seem to overlook from me."

"You're a bastard," he spat. I chuckled softly at his remark, unfazed.

"Enough of this," interjected the leader of our group. "And you, Grey, focus on your vision and mission. You brought us together for a reason."

I paused, contemplating his words. "As I thought, you're indeed suited for leadership," I said, pulling out a cigarette. Observing the tension in the room, I reconsidered and pocketed it instead. "I saw it," I added cryptically.

The leader, Hubmers, remained silent, haunted by his past failures. Once a member of the state intelligence agency, his actions—or lack thereof—had indirectly aided the revolution that led to the downfall of the government and the deaths of countless innocents. His voice was heavy with guilt. "I will pay for all of it," he vowed.

"Hubmers, you're awesome. Stop dwelling on the past. We've got a future ahead of us," one of our members said, attempting to lift his spirits. "That's why we're all here, united."

"Yes, exactly! Except for that scoundrel and his followers!" another chimed in with fervor.

"Calm down," I intervened. "Emotions alone won't solve anything. Revolution is proof of that. They've declared God dead and seek to create their own version. I can't agree with that, even as a skeptic myself."

"You're right," the agitated individual conceded, albeit reluctantly.

"How is our mole doing?" the leader asked, his tone grave. "Is Pewyn safe?"

"He's safe and hasn't betrayed us," I assured him. "But that bastard... he's planted the seeds to switch sides. All he cares about is his own gain, like money."

"Why did we change the meeting point?" I asked, curious.

"Because of their evil," the leader replied with a sigh. The specifics were left unsaid, but the weight of his words was enough to order us to be dismissed from the place.

Without wasting more time, we dispersed, each of us driven by our own convictions. The clock was ticking, and the stakes had never been higher.

The corridors of the facility stretched long and cold, the hum of distant machinery filling the silence. As I made my way toward my room, a familiar voice called out to me.

....

"Yo, Grey!" The sharp, commanding tone belonged to Mrs. Firanda. She stood a few steps ahead, leaning casually against the metallic wall. Her piercing gaze was as unyielding as ever. "They transferred you because I asked them to," she added with a sly smile.

"Ah, Mrs. Firanda," I replied, slowing my pace. "You, me, and yes, even that cretin... friends to the end, right? I owe you for making my vision and mission possible. How have you been?"

She tilted her head slightly, her smile fading into a serious expression. "Shouldn't I be the one asking about your condition? You're the one treading carefully, battling against everything. You're bound to attract suspicion."

"No problem," I said with a dismissive shrug. "It's been a while, though. How's progress on the robot advancements? Satisfied with your research?"

Firanda hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Satisfied? I don't know. I just want answers, Grey. My curiosity is what drives me, unlike him." Her eyes darkened for a moment as if recalling something unpleasant. "But let's not dive into the technicalities right now. Just a friendly reminder—those AI advancements we've made? These advancements in AI are more than just tools; they are explosive examples of our collective genius. Tread carefully."

With that, she turned on her heel, her long coat swaying as she walked away. Over her shoulder, she called out, "Go see that cretin to register. He's got all the authority you'll need to get through the ranks. If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

I watched her retreating figure, her confident stride a stark contrast to the uncertainty swirling in my mind. "Geez... woman," I muttered under my breath. Still, her words lingered, compelling me to reconsider my next steps.

Finally, I made my way to my quarters. The journey was uneventful, save for a few polite nods exchanged with passing professors. Their faces were familiar yet nameless to me—a reminder of my peculiar detachment from the community I was part of.

"Many know who I am, but I don't recognize them," I thought, smirking to myself. "Just another day in the life of Grey—finding allies in strangers and strangers in allies."

The weight of Firanda's words, the cryptic warnings from my old acquaintance, and the tension in Lab 032 all settled heavily on my shoulders. Rest would have to wait. The pieces were in motion, and I had to maintain a competitive edge.