Hot streams of sunlight poured into the streets of Tokyo as the morning began. One by one, the windows began to light up, as the denizens of Japan began their days in the middle of November. Each in turn, it seemed that every radio was turned on, and began to broadcast a familiar sound- a greeting by a generally beloved instructor as the morning aerobics began.
In a brightly lit room with pale walls covered in a variety of brightly colored posters, a girl with nearly florescent blue hair tossed herself into an upright position. Pressing her hand against a print depicting a humanoid figure in flowing white and red clothes with a feathered rod and strange hat and visor, she bounced herself out of bed, bare feet hitting the floor in a sluggish way, as she began to execute hurried stretches, her petite body twisting at double time before she dressed herself and bounded from her room.
Letting out a short breath as she adjusted the pleated hem of her white shirt and straightened her little green ascot like tie, she began to set out making herself breakfast, humming happily as she did, her green-grey eyes flashing like the sea in the brightly lit apartment, which, while sparsely decorated, was tidy and sharp looking.
Sitting herself down on a slim stool at a white, almost antiseptic looking table, she began to partake in her breakfast- which today, consisted of a bowl of steaming rice, which had been left in a small electric pot over night, and a lukewarm takoyaki she had purchased the day before. As she chewed through her meal, she took a thoughtful look. The girl contemplated turning on the TV, but instead scrunched her lips to the side, and looked towards the ceiling. The quiet was rather enjoyable. Her brow furrowed as she felt something off, sliding her foot against her leg, nudging the red, thick belt around her calf down against her long white leggins with the toe of her shoe.
A fair hand with well manicured finger nails reached from under a thick, plush sheet and gently lifted a pair of rounded glasses. A flurry of silky brown hair flowed from the blanket as the glasses were sucked under, and placed on glistening blue eyes. As the radio crackled to life, she rose and tugged a jacket over her shoulders, and began to look about the unlit room.
Entering the main combination living-room-/kitchen, she slunk smoothly into the kitchen, sitting and quickly drinking a bowl of miso soup.
"Good morning," her father greeted with a nod.
The girl did a double take, forcing a swallow of hot broth.
"Dad? What're you doing here so late?" she blurted.
"The building's being cleaned and fumigated, so I can't go in until later today," explained her father.
"I uh..." she began.
Charolette had never been exposed to her father for more than a moment, so she was almost unnerved as her to just see him standing there in the morning, polishing a glass with a soft rag. She swallowed nervously, feeling unsure.
"I'm... going to school," she remarked, hurriedly standing and leaving the kitchen.
With her bag at her side, she left her home, sliding into a pair of black flats, covering her warm knee high socks as she swiveled out the door. The cold air braced against her face as it rushed into the hall from downstairs, and moved towards it, starting her day.
The shadows of the cavernous ceiling, lit only by faint symbols, lightly glowing in various colors, fading and moving elsewhere, replaced by another of a different color and shape, filtered down into a sight most bizarre. Amongst apparently standard tiles, were interwoven what appeared to be grey veins of unhewn stone, which at several places was rounded and raised above the tile in a branching pattern, and around this thronged over a score of individuals in tight fitting pale uniforms, with what appeared to be sewn plating into the upper chest and shoulder pads. Adorning their faces were visors of a strange metal which cast their eyes in shadow. Few of these were connected to wires, which ran to the ground and into great terminals of processors which seemed to line the room, though none were placed upon the raw stone-like areas, and were thus in a haphazard pattern. In the focus of the area, as the room had a parabolic shape, or rather the area that could be seen, lit somehow from below by an unseen source, was set a large ring, inside which was a gridded plate, topped with a large clear tube. Many of the supercomputers around the room seemed to lead to or from this large tube, which could clearly be seen from a command deck, lined with desks and stations high above the research floor, where several figures in uniforms of their own looked on.
A figure above lifted a phone, pausing for a moment before nodding to another.
"Begin preparing for mass isolation- upload prerequisite data," a voice from the area above stated in a projected, commanding manner.
The floor below began to buzz with activity more than before, as wires were placed and replaced, and researchers with wired goggles called out figures to those without.
One scientist, with thinning, grey hair and a scruffy facial hair, approached the individuals at the command station, his manner meek, and his voice low.
"C-Commander," he began, "It's not... we're not actually going to execute generation, are we?" the man asked in an unsure tone.
"With all due respect," spoke one who had been silent and motionless before, "You have little understanding of what's coming to pass," spake the voice, "'Doctor,'" added the figure, with a rather sarcastic and possibly degrading tone which made the elderly man uncomfortable.
"Variables generating!" called a figure in a rather different, more solid visor, whose uniform fit oddly, only partially due to the researcher's odd stance, "It's showtime!"
The only source of light in the dark room was the faint light of a bulky computer monitor. The windows were practically blacked out with old curtains and grimy dust, and the room was piled with papers in manila folders. A single figure crossed the room, sliding a manila envelope away from a yellowed keyboard, as fingers began tapping away.
A small phone with a slim number pad and sleek receiver began to ring in the mysterious chasm amongst the control desks. A delicate hand reached down and lifted it between curled locks of blonde hair.
"We've begun. The data stream's gone out of sync, we can't predict the outcomes anymore," there was a hesitation in the female's voice then, as the clinical sound shifted from her voice, and a more caring, quiet tone came, "Look. Are you sure you're going through with this? Is it all worth it? I mean, you don't have to go through all this... Even you said that that one Digimon... you showed me the data."
"It's fine. It's what I have to do. I'll handle everything. I'll come meet you soon," the voice on the other end replied.
Placing the phone back on the receiver as a more stern tone came over her face, and she stood rapidly, throwing back her shoulders, her golden curls bouncing behind her back.
"Alright people, floor's hot!" she called out with authority, "Anyone who's not a Monster, clear the floor! Full generation has begin and we're not here to loose anyone! Keep those core samples isolated- no mistakes!"
As the commands were issued, a portion of the coated group of scientists left, but the remainder all had various odd fittings to their coats, with various what appeared to be malformations of their heads, covered by plugged visors. Atop the tube, in which glinting images of egg like spheres gathered from tiny flecks. In an area above the grid and tank, a secondary tank rested, in which three oblong shapes were held, and seemed to be tapped with tiny wires, with a red semi-fluid being drawn from somewhere within. A stream of inputs began to appear in a separate box, alongside the data readouts from the tube, displayed on a large projection above the work floor.
In a brightly lit room with pale walls covered in a variety of brightly colored posters, a girl with nearly florescent blue hair tossed herself into an upright position. Pressing her hand against a print depicting a humanoid figure in flowing white and red clothes with a feathered rod and strange hat and visor, she bounced herself out of bed, bare feet hitting the floor in a sluggish way, as she began to execute hurried stretches, her petite body twisting at double time before she dressed herself and bounded from her room.
Letting out a short breath as she adjusted the pleated hem of her white shirt and straightened her little green ascot like tie, she began to set out making herself breakfast, humming happily as she did, her green-grey eyes flashing like the sea in the brightly lit apartment, which, while sparsely decorated, was tidy and sharp looking.
Sitting herself down on a slim stool at a white, almost antiseptic looking table, she began to partake in her breakfast- which today, consisted of a bowl of steaming rice, which had been left in a small electric pot over night, and a lukewarm takoyaki she had purchased the day before. As she chewed through her meal, she took a thoughtful look. The girl contemplated turning on the TV, but instead scrunched her lips to the side, and looked towards the ceiling. The quiet was rather enjoyable. Her brow furrowed as she felt something off, sliding her foot against her leg, nudging the red, thick belt around her calf down against her long white leggins with the toe of her shoe.
A fair hand with well manicured finger nails reached from under a thick, plush sheet and gently lifted a pair of rounded glasses. A flurry of silky brown hair flowed from the blanket as the glasses were sucked under, and placed on glistening blue eyes. As the radio crackled to life, she rose and tugged a jacket over her shoulders, and began to look about the unlit room.
Entering the main combination living-room-/kitchen, she slunk smoothly into the kitchen, sitting and quickly drinking a bowl of miso soup.
"Good morning," her father greeted with a nod.
The girl did a double take, forcing a swallow of hot broth.
"Dad? What're you doing here so late?" she blurted.
"The building's being cleaned and fumigated, so I can't go in until later today," explained her father.
"I uh..." she began.
Charolette had never been exposed to her father for more than a moment, so she was almost unnerved as her to just see him standing there in the morning, polishing a glass with a soft rag. She swallowed nervously, feeling unsure.
"I'm... going to school," she remarked, hurriedly standing and leaving the kitchen.
With her bag at her side, she left her home, sliding into a pair of black flats, covering her warm knee high socks as she swiveled out the door. The cold air braced against her face as it rushed into the hall from downstairs, and moved towards it, starting her day.
The shadows of the cavernous ceiling, lit only by faint symbols, lightly glowing in various colors, fading and moving elsewhere, replaced by another of a different color and shape, filtered down into a sight most bizarre. Amongst apparently standard tiles, were interwoven what appeared to be grey veins of unhewn stone, which at several places was rounded and raised above the tile in a branching pattern, and around this thronged over a score of individuals in tight fitting pale uniforms, with what appeared to be sewn plating into the upper chest and shoulder pads. Adorning their faces were visors of a strange metal which cast their eyes in shadow. Few of these were connected to wires, which ran to the ground and into great terminals of processors which seemed to line the room, though none were placed upon the raw stone-like areas, and were thus in a haphazard pattern. In the focus of the area, as the room had a parabolic shape, or rather the area that could be seen, lit somehow from below by an unseen source, was set a large ring, inside which was a gridded plate, topped with a large clear tube. Many of the supercomputers around the room seemed to lead to or from this large tube, which could clearly be seen from a command deck, lined with desks and stations high above the research floor, where several figures in uniforms of their own looked on.
A figure above lifted a phone, pausing for a moment before nodding to another.
"Begin preparing for mass isolation- upload prerequisite data," a voice from the area above stated in a projected, commanding manner.
The floor below began to buzz with activity more than before, as wires were placed and replaced, and researchers with wired goggles called out figures to those without.
One scientist, with thinning, grey hair and a scruffy facial hair, approached the individuals at the command station, his manner meek, and his voice low.
"C-Commander," he began, "It's not... we're not actually going to execute generation, are we?" the man asked in an unsure tone.
"With all due respect," spoke one who had been silent and motionless before, "You have little understanding of what's coming to pass," spake the voice, "'Doctor,'" added the figure, with a rather sarcastic and possibly degrading tone which made the elderly man uncomfortable.
"Variables generating!" called a figure in a rather different, more solid visor, whose uniform fit oddly, only partially due to the researcher's odd stance, "It's showtime!"
The only source of light in the dark room was the faint light of a bulky computer monitor. The windows were practically blacked out with old curtains and grimy dust, and the room was piled with papers in manila folders. A single figure crossed the room, sliding a manila envelope away from a yellowed keyboard, as fingers began tapping away.
Vector: 000
Protocol Override- G67X
RETURN: Access Denied.
Access Code- 0025700x.098.099.1016.1008.1012
Passage Code: x.001y.125(A)z.neutralize
RETURN: Restricted Access.
A small phone with a slim number pad and sleek receiver began to ring in the mysterious chasm amongst the control desks. A delicate hand reached down and lifted it between curled locks of blonde hair.
"We've begun. The data stream's gone out of sync, we can't predict the outcomes anymore," there was a hesitation in the female's voice then, as the clinical sound shifted from her voice, and a more caring, quiet tone came, "Look. Are you sure you're going through with this? Is it all worth it? I mean, you don't have to go through all this... Even you said that that one Digimon... you showed me the data."
"It's fine. It's what I have to do. I'll handle everything. I'll come meet you soon," the voice on the other end replied.
Placing the phone back on the receiver as a more stern tone came over her face, and she stood rapidly, throwing back her shoulders, her golden curls bouncing behind her back.
"Alright people, floor's hot!" she called out with authority, "Anyone who's not a Monster, clear the floor! Full generation has begin and we're not here to loose anyone! Keep those core samples isolated- no mistakes!"
As the commands were issued, a portion of the coated group of scientists left, but the remainder all had various odd fittings to their coats, with various what appeared to be malformations of their heads, covered by plugged visors. Atop the tube, in which glinting images of egg like spheres gathered from tiny flecks. In an area above the grid and tank, a secondary tank rested, in which three oblong shapes were held, and seemed to be tapped with tiny wires, with a red semi-fluid being drawn from somewhere within. A stream of inputs began to appear in a separate box, alongside the data readouts from the tube, displayed on a large projection above the work floor.
