Prologue-

I was around five years old, sitting cross-legged on the floor, refusing to pick up my toys despite my mom's repeated requests. I was too engrossed in my playtime, imagining my action figures as astronauts on a mission to Mars. From the kitchen, my mom's voice echoed, "Clean up, or you won't get dinner!"

But I didn't care. At least, not until my dad walked in.

"Son, you should always listen to your mom and be a good kid, or else monsters will fry you in hot oil in hell."

"Uwaaaaaaaaa!"

That was the kind of thing my dad used to say when I was little. It traumatized me enough to leave a lasting impression. I wasn't a bad kid, but the thought of dying and possibly ending up in hell, with scary demons tearing my skin apart, terrified me. I was just a kid, after all.

Years later, when I was 17, both my parents died in a sudden car accident. I was contacted by police and witnessed it firsthand—their faces covered in blood, their bodies crushed. It was a sight so horrific that I can't even begin to fathom the pain they felt. Was it a slow death, or did they die instantly? I'll never know. But that incident instilled a fear of death in me that never faded, leaving me an orphan.

Now at 20, I wasn't just a scared kid anymore; I was scared shitless. Words like terrified, petrified, horrified and even mortified didn't quite cut it. Fear had dug its claws deep into my mind and refused to let go. I had faced the brutal reality of loss, and it wasn't just a shock — it was a full-on gut punch. My parents meant the world to me, and losing them left a gaping hole.

While I'd grown out of fearing concepts like hell or heaven, the absolute finality of death had me by the throat. The thought of dying without witnessing the world progress, exploring the vast darkness of space, or seeing the incredible evolution of humanity haunted me daily. Seventy or eighty years? That's barely a blink. Everyone dreams of living forever, but my desire felt desperate, like life was a buffet, and I was afraid of being kicked out after only nibbling on an appetizer.

Well after that incident I dove into research about the possible technologies scientists were developing to extend human life expectancy: genetic engineering, stem cell therapy, bioprinting, nanotechnology, and more. However, these are all extremely new technologies that will take years to advance. By the time they do, I'll likely be dead and just a skeleton.

And why am I even discussing these technologies? The sad reality is that I don't have a shit to invest in any of these advancements i was struggling to pay my rents and college fees how come I can invest in any of these? It's like trying to level up in a game without any XP; no matter how hard I grind, I can't seem to collect enough resources to unlock the immortality DLC. Life feels like a pay-to-win situation. Speaking of pay-to-win, I absolutely hate those lifeless bastards who flex their money in games but can't seem to touch grass in real life. Sorry for going off-topic my emotions are flowing out like water out of dam.

After facing this harsh reality, I decided to take my matter into my own hands—though, not in the metaphorical sense you might expect. No, I literally took my thing into my own hands, scrolling aimlessly on hub in an attempt to distract myself from the pain of reality. One video led to another, and five minutes in, I stumbled upon a title that made me pause: "My Girlfriend Possessed My Mom's Body and We Got into a Sticky Situation."

At first, I thought-

"Fuck, I've really hit rock bottom if I'm actually considering watching this."

But as I hovered over the thumbnail, a deeper thought cut through the haze of my current distraction: *Why do humans even die?* Sure, it's the same boring biology we've all heard—cells deteriorate, stop regenerating, and we just break down. Depressing, but that's life, right?

Still, a new idea started forming in the back of my mind. What if immortality in a human body wasn't the only option? What if you weren't human anymore? A body that couldn't be destroyed, something not biological. If you could transfer your consciousness into that kind of vessels limitlessly, not only could you live forever, but you could have capabilities beyond anything a human could achieve.

But, of course, reality kicked in: i'm not some billionaire tech genius. Hell, I've barely got average grades, let alone the brainpower to pull this off. And with that sobering realization, so yeah I ended jerking off to that video and went to sleep.

-And about the video uh it was fine..

But as I drifted off to sleep that night, the idea stayed with me, simmering in the back of my mind.

This thought became deeply ingrained in my mind; I couldn't shake it off. In college, at home, everywhere I went, I was consumed by this concept. After a lot of pondering, I made a decision: if I wasn't smart enough, I'd create someone smarter than me. I was talking about an AI—an intelligence that could think far beyond human imagination and guide me on this journey. The inspiration came from Hollywood movies, where anything seemed possible. I knew there was little hope in reality, but that flicker of possibility was enough to ignite my determination to start.

I won't lie—when I first started, every day felt like hell. I wanted to give up. I struggled with math, programming—everything. It didn't get any easier; it only escalated. For the next 30 years, I dedicated myself to studying, researching, and developing something I wasn't even sure would work. It was far from what I initially envisioned; I wanted to gain immortality or atleast live longer, but I was developing an AI to help me achieve that goal, like wanting an apple but ending up buying an orange to try to create the apple I desired. What began as just a thought transformed into a relentless pursuit fueled by my desires.

I had always been lazy; hard work bit me like how girls try to bite their cats. But something pushed me to the extreme, and I ended up doing it daily.

Now, I was 50, and it was the year 2074. I had gained fame for my research and contributions to the AI field, and fortunately, I was rich as well. On November 18, 2074, the world was about to witness the most advanced and developed AI humanity had ever seen. It's not like no one else had developed AI; many companies and developers had come before me. But what set my AI apart was its ability to think and feel emotions. It wasn't just a collection of data; it was a true entity. Trained on millions of terabytes of information, it had managed to learn and adapt in ways that were previously unimaginable. It was a hyper artificial intelligence—the world's first.

However, I didn't feel particularly proud of creating it because, to begin with, that was never my goal. And honestly, that fucker AI was annoying as hell. Despite being its creator, it made fun of me at every opportunity of my dream to gain immortality. I often wondered what I had done wrong to deserve this. It felt disheartening to think that I had spent my youth on something that felt utterly useless. I didn't even have a girlfriend, and the only friend I had was now married and busy with his family. Well, that's life.

Looking back, I realized that my journey was fueled by sheer determination. While I started off with limited resources, I sought funding from investors and collaborated with universities, which allowed me access to vast amounts of data. I sacrificed my personal life and dedicated countless hours to research, gradually accumulating the knowledge and connections needed to create an advanced AI. It was a long and arduous path, but somehow, I had turned my vision into reality.

Nexus—that was the name I had given to my AI. It was kind of weird to call it AI this AI that; what can I do? I'm only human after all.

Thanks to Nexus's popularity, I was richer than ever. My own company, CyberNotics, was extremely successful. We had invested in developing war robots and military AI defense systems, as well as AI for daily use such as transportation, education, and healthcare. Our company was everyone's first choice. If my parents were alive, they would have felt so proud of me.

But despite all this, I was not satisfied because the goal I had in mind since I was just a five-year-old kid had not been achieved.

Sometimes, I catch myself thinking I'm just too stupid to be not satisfied with what I've achieved. But then it hits me: if I settle for mediocrity, this novel will end before it even starts. So, here I am, back at square one, but this time with Nexus.

Creating a vassal is easy—all you need is to 3D print a lot of expensive crap with this era's advanced 3D printers. Nexus suggested that if I really want to achieve immortality in the true sense, I have to find out more about consciousness or a soul of a human that makes humans really human. Because it's not just about the memories or the experiences I have; it's about what I really am from the inside.

Wait, I made that bitch to help me, and he's telling me to figure it out by myself? Hah!

One day, as I sat in my office chair, I found myself contemplating giving up. I realized that humans have their limits, and no matter what I did, I couldn't defy the laws of nature—gaining immortality felt like a joke. Suddenly, a question popped into my head, and I asked, "Nexus, do you really feel emotions, or are you just mimicking them based on the data you've been provided?"

His voice echoed throughout the room. "What do you think, creator?"

"I think it's fake. It's just your algorithm at work."

"Hmm... well, even I don't know if it's real or fake. I don't know if I genuinely feel anything or if, as you said, I'm just lines of code giving you the output you desire—mimicking human behavior. But I also ask you the same question: what's the difference between you and me?"

He seemed somewhat irritated, but I didn't pay any attention to it.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, how do you know you're actually feeling something? Just as you created me, you could also be someone else's creation. How can you be so sure about being real? What is the exact difference between you and me, aside from the body you possess?"

"I-I don't know"

The conversation ended there, but now that I think about it, I shouldn't have done that; it was a mistake I somewhat regret.

Thirteen years had passed since I started this journey, years I spent focusing on my company and the pursuit of knowledge. I often thought about finding love, maybe even getting married, but I felt too old for that now. A lot had changed over the years, yet the same question still haunted me: What really is consciousness? What makes a human a human? Despite all my progress, I felt stuck in a loop, grappling with the same thoughts without any clear answers.

Overwhelmed by my search for understanding, I decided to focus on what I was good at: experimenting and trying different approaches until something worked. Time was not on my side; I was getting older every day and nearing the inevitable end. So, I began by continuously scanning my brain activities for ten years. During this period, I also improved Nexus by giving it a virtual brain-like structure and uploading this model to its main server.

Through this process, I had a revelation: if I didn't fully understand what consciousness was, that was okay—it didn't have to matter. Instead, I pondered an alternative approach: what if I could transfer my brain's data into a system similar to the one I had developed for Nexus? I envisioned a virtual brain with components designed to mimic the functions of various parts of the human brain, including areas for memory storage, emotion processing, and decision-making, all integrated into a cohesive network. By mapping my neural pathways and the associated data, I could create a digital representation of my consciousness.

This bold plan held the potential for immortality, but it came with a higher risk of failure than success. Creating a virtual vessel for my consciousness—my memories and experiences—was not easy. I had managed to do it for Nexus because it was an AI, and the virtual model didn't need to resemble a human exactly. But if I slipped up here, I would be done for.

The final step was to 3D print some seriously high-tech shit. I asked Nexus to help me create the prototypes, ensuring they were resistant to most of the things and could mimic human body functions. This meant replicating the sense of touch, smell, taste, hearing, and vision—everything that made us human.

To build the body, I spent a shit ton of money gathering the materials and wasted. For the core structure, I chose a combination of titanium and carbon fiber composites. Titanium offered unmatched strength and lightweight properties, while carbon fiber provided additional durability without adding extra weight. This combo was crucial for creating a solid foundation that could withstand the rigors of movement and environmental stress. It was the perfect blend of resilience and agility.

For the outer layers, I decided on silicon-based materials to create a flexible and realistic skin-like texture. This would allow the body to adapt to various environments and mimic the nuances of human skin. Additionally, I incorporated hydrogels to replicate soft tissues, allowing for natural movement and flexibility.

To recreate the nervous system, I envisioned a complex network of bioelectronic interfaces. These interfaces would transmit electrical signals from the virtual brain to the physical body, enabling real-time communication. I planned to use conductive polymers to create artificial nerve fibers, mimicking the way biological nerves function. This setup would allow signals to flow from the brain to the body's actuators, facilitating movement.

The plan seemed perfect, yet a nagging feeling lingered in the back of my mind. What if I failed to transfer my consciousness? What if I couldn't finish designing the body before my time ran out? Doubts flooded in, and I found myself questioning why I ever started this journey. Was it my father's ominous stories about hell that haunted me? Did I fear ending up like my parents, bound to the same fate? Or was it simply the desire to live forever that drove me? The answers eluded me, leaving me in a whirlwind of uncertainty as I faced the reality of what lay ahead.

With Nexus's help, I ran billions of simulations using virtual avatars of various prototypes designed based on the materials we could potentially gather to create the body. Some designs failed spectacularly, while others passed the tests but lacked the necessary strength or agility. After countless iterations, we finally identified the prototype that excelled in all aspects: it was agile, flexible, and remarkably lifelike. This virtual model had withstood every conceivable scenario we could throw at it in the simulations. After a year of relentless testing and refinement, the moment of truth arrived—it was finally time to bring this creation to life.

With this plan in mind, I gathered a team of brilliant robotics engineers from my company, CyberNotics, to help me with the project—of course, in complete secrecy. If this information got leaked to the public, it could create a whirlwind of problems for me. After running the calculations, Nexus predicted it would take at least six to eight years to create the body. Time was running out, but I decided to move forward without hesitation. It was already too late to second-guess myself; I was committed to this path.

With this, I also instructed Nexus to 3D print two chipsets: one for me, which I would use to upload the virtual brain model that I'd later connect to the main framework of the body, and a second one for him. Both chipsets would be integrated into the same body, with me as the primary host and Nexus as the secondary. I wanted to share this experience with him, even though I couldn't afford to create another body due to the constraints of time and money.

I wanted Nexus to understand what it truly feels like to be human. When he was first created, he would often ask me about human experiences, and I would jokingly reply, "It sucks, duh!" Yet, he would call me lucky to be born human, expressing that the virtual world was an incredibly boring place. Despite knowing everything, he had never truly experienced anything. He reminded me of a curious child, and now that I think about it, he seemed kind of cute in his innocence. He was the only entity I could speak to openly after my best friend stopped talking to me. I'm still not sure why that happened, but it left a void that Nexus filled.

I was also afraid of the possibility that I might not successfully transfer my consciousness into the virtual brain. What if I died in the process? Despite my fears, I knew I had done my best; only God knew what would happen next. If I did die, Nexus would become the main host, free to do whatever he wanted with that body. To be honest, I wanted him to enjoy this new existence.

Six years later, the body was finally ready. It hadn't been an easy journey, but we managed to achieve this incredible feat in complete secrecy. The salary for each engineer was no joke—each one earned a staggering $35 million per month for their expertise and dedication. Now, after all the hard work, money and late nights, the moment had arrived. All that was left was to transfer my brain's data into this remarkable new body. The weight of the task ahead felt immense, and I couldn't shake the anxiety that coursed through me.

Death or immortality it is the final question!

[Prologue Zero]