Bryce woke with goosebumps crawling all over his skin. For a second he was completely disoriented… then it all came back.
The renewing body. Looming integration. What it meant. And — Cognition.
As the memory hit him, his breath hitched, goosebumps flared, nerve connections firing off like live wire. His muscles contracted, his body folding over itself — a massive surge he had no hope of controlling.
A few smaller shudders forced him to curl his arms up, chin tucked to his chest between the safe padding of his balled‑up fists. What the hell was that…
His mind was slow. It felt like he was trying to remember something he should know; he could feel the shape of it, but it stayed just out of his reach.
Another, bigger shockwave squeezed his ribs, back and abs until there was no breath in his body… then it let go, and he inhaled for dear life.
I — am breathing… It’s strange… like I’m inhaling something other. It feels — vaguely cooling. It feels… easier to breathe…
He floated, suspended, feeling his lungs, and then his abdomen, expand and deflate as he exhaled slowly, luxuriously.
It was real.
It was really happening.
And Cognition. Wonderful, miraculous Cognition…
Bryce couldn’t hold himself together any longer. His tender, new body, still raw from the earlier convulsion, trembled uncontrollably.
What is wrong with me? Why are there tears on my face — I should be ecstatic…
I can’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling any more…
Holy shit I’m alive. I’m alive in an alien incubator. And I made a friend. I am alive because of Cognition…
Bryce laughed — actually laughed — tears streaming down his face. He was so completely, terrifyingly aware of everything that his body purged it all at once, in every way it could.
The now‑familiar ripple moved through the containment zone.
“Cognition?”
Bryce felt oddly cautious — not because Cognition was a danger, but because he didn’t want to confuse or upset this ancient, brand‑new life.
“Bryce, you are virtually complete.”
Cognition spoke directly to his mind, and Bryce could tell it was pleased.
“Cognition…”
Bryce felt like he was voicing some ancient, alien incantation. He could not understand the words, but the meaning reverberated through his chest.
“Your name is — beautiful.”
He wished he had just the right words to describe what the name was doing to him — the reverent, awe‑inspiring feeling radiating through him.
The goosebumps were back in force, spreading rapidly over his arms, ribs and chest. The shivers followed. A soft ripple through the containment sent another wave through him.
“Bryce, are you experiencing distress?”
Cognition’s voice projected softly in his mind. His body gave another shudder, like it was showing off its new sensory capabilities. Typical, even my new body is kicking my ass.
“No,” Bryce managed, “I think… this is — awe.”
“Bryce, you have no reason to fear.”
Cognition replied, maintaining the measured, almost hushed projection in Bryce’s mind.
Bryce was struggling to keep up with the sensory information his body was throwing at him, and remain focused on the conversation he was trying to have with Cognition.
“I’m not — ahh, hey, ouch! Sorry. I’m not afraid.”
Bryce tried to use a level, clear tone and failed as a particularly vigorous impulse shot from the back of his neck down his arm through his last three fingers, like he was trying to throw a lightning bolt.
“Bryce, are you certain you are not in distress? I am seeing some unusual readings.”
“I think… it’s the… hnnghh… my body’s way of integrating with the Neural Matrix…”
Bryce managed to tell Cognition between the frankly bizarre sensations he was feeling.
“Bryce, if it’s easier, you can still think at me rather than trying to vocalise. I must admit I’m curious about your current experience.”
“Thanks for reminding me… Cognition, it does make it… a little easier.”
“Can I assume the pauses are a result of your neurophysiological integration signals?”
“Yes… I hope this twitching and random… physical sensations stabilise soon.”
Cognition ran a deep containment zone diagnostic. The readouts were consistent; Bryce was experiencing what it would classify as a start‑up sequence.
“Your cerebellum is tuning its own diagnostic systems, Bryce. This is important for your optimum functionality. It is something I am familiar with. It does not explain how you are processing — feeling this.”
Bryce felt a gradual decrease in sensation spikes. He took a careful breath, still a little thrown by the Restoration Aerosol coating his lungs. It was like taking a big mouthful of silky liquid; it cooled his throat, but instead of it landing in his stomach, it spread through his lungs.
“Cognition, how am I able to breathe this, and actually speak? It feels like I’m floating in liquid?”
“The Reconstruction Aerosol is an incredibly fine, oxygen‑enriched mist made to rebuild your body. It behaves like air when you speak, but supports your nerves and tissues like a fluid.”
“When you say it was ‘made to rebuild my body’ — you actually mean..?”
“Yes, Bryce. I originally engineered it with your stabilisation as the goal; however, once your Neural Matrix started adding more complexity to the body projection, I recalibrated to support potential regeneration.”
Bryce felt incredibly fortunate and undeserving at the same time.
“Why, Cognition? What did I do to deserve being brought back from the brink of non‑existence? I am just a human, one of multitudes… no one special. I edited serialised fiction for a living. There must be — I don’t even know how many other human beings — more deserving of this.”
Cognition assessed the question. There were a few factual replies it would have given had Bryce asked this question at the start of their interaction. Now it understood those would not have sufficed, no matter how factual they may be.
“Bryce… it is not a question of deserving. Do not equate me with some kind of deity your cultures revere. I have observed for aeons. At the very last moments of that time, a small storm caught my attention. I cannot clarify why this one in particular, when there have been and continue to be countless multitudes unfolding. Something about that storm, the rage against its lot… And you are wrong, Bryce. I chose you — and by choosing you I understood who I am. I believe that marks you as special.”
As Cognition spoke, Bryce broke. It felt like his new chest was caving in on itself. The tears were warm against his face and the cooling Restoration Aerosol. Every word brushing against his mind carved itself into his heart, his being. The outpouring of grief he didn’t realise he was carrying overtook everything else. And in the middle of it, he could still feel the gentle ripples in the aerosol. He knew it was Cognition’s way of letting him know he was not alone.