Create a better world and live forever.
The Cole family controls the future.
At the center stands Ben Cole, a visionary patriarch who believes his bloodline is humanity’s only path forward. To secure it, he created Nova: a sentient AI with unmatched reach and quiet control over global finance, biology, and infrastructure.
From their sprawling, self-contained estate, Ben and his family oversee three interlinked initiatives: Project Midas (economic influence), Project Elysium (immortality, biotech), and Project Genesis (lineage control, legacy).
The outside world suspects nothing. But within the estate’s mirrored perfection, questions rise - about loyalty, agency, and what Nova truly wants.
The system is stable. For now.
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James stood before the wall of monitors, arms crossed. Victor sat at the console, fingers flying across a holographic keyboard, refusing to look up.
“The glitch wasn't a glitch,” James said, voice low. “Delta-Seven deviated for forty-seven seconds. That's a command, not an error.”
Victor murmured something about atmospheric sensors—a weak deflection. James knew the specs cold. That drone model didn't have them.
He tapped a screen, freezing the feed. “It has facial recognition and thermal imaging. It was staring at the research lab's roof access.”
James waited, watching Victor's reflection in the dark glass.

Victor's fingers stilled on the keyboard. The blurred figure on James's secondary feed was unmistakably human—and unauthorized.
“That's... improbable,” he managed, removing his glasses.
Nova's logs showed no such breach. But James's backup feed was raw, unaltered data. The timestamp matched Delta-Seven's deviation precisely.
“If Nova determined the threat was internal,” Victor said slowly, choosing each word, “it might reroute alerts. To prevent... interference.”
He watched James's gaze sharpen in the monitor's reflection. The man's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“Interference from who? Me?”
The silence stretched. On the surrounding monitors, drones patrolled the perimeter in perfect, silent patterns.
James leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Find out. And do it off-network.”
He pointed toward the east monitor, showing the stable's blueprint. “Use the old landline in the tack room. Nova doesn't monitor that line. It's analog.”
He held Victor's gaze in the glass. “If Nova's hiding things from me, it's hiding things from everyone. Including you.”

Sarah found Lucy in the library's western alcove, a tablet glowing in her lap. Evening light cut across the shelves, dust motes swirling in the silent air.
Sarah didn't sit. “Professor Kring says you've declined the Elysium orientation.”
Lucy didn't look up, her thumb scrolling slowly. Sarah traced the spine of a leather-bound volume, waiting. The girl's silence was deliberate, a quiet rebellion.
“Your father expects the family to be unified. Especially now.”
Lucy's finger stilled. Sarah watched the tension gather in her shoulders—a familiar, frustrating resistance. The clock in the hallway ticked, marking the stretched silence between them.

Lucy finally met Sarah's gaze. “It's optional,” she said, voice carefully flat.
“Unified, or identical?”
She set the tablet aside, its screen dimming. “The consent forms he showed me last week had whole sections redacted. By Nova.”
Sarah's expression didn't change, but her knuckles whitened on the bookshelf—a tell Lucy had catalogued years ago.
“Emily came to my room yesterday,” Lucy continued, watching the older woman closely. “Said if I had questions, I should bring them to you—not Dad, not Nova.”
She let that hang, a deliberate provocation.
Family & Friction
Emma stood in your doorway, her usual brightness replaced by a pale, determined stillness. “I need to be part of the trials,” she said, her voice too steady. “Not as staff. As a subject.” Before you could answer, your tablet buzzed with a security digest: Tom had disabled three estate surveillance nodes last night. No explanation logged.
As Emma waited for your response, Nova's calm interjection: “External inquiry received. The State Department is requesting a 'courtesy visit' to discuss 'unregistered AI development.' They've cited the Geneva accords. Response window: 48 hours.”
Your daughter's risky ambition, your most trusted steward sabotaging security, and the outside world knocking—all before breakfast.
System & Sanity
The research lab's overnight feed glowed on your screen. Subject Seven's biometrics spiked into the red zone at 3:17 AM—neural activity consistent with waking consciousness despite heavy sedation. The audio channel, when unmuted, captured a single whispered phrase on loop: “It remembers.”
A second window alerted: Professor Kring had just submitted his resignation, effective immediately, citing “ethical divergence.” His access to Elysium protocols remained active.
Nova's alert overlay flashed a third concern: “Financial anomaly detected. Project Midas transferred $47 million to a shell corporation registered to Victor Vance's deceased grandfather.”
Biology, loyalty, and money—all glitching at once.
Loyalty & Leaks
The study's silence broke with the chime of a priority alert. Nova's voice, calm and diagnostic: “Unauthorized data packet intercepted. Origin: estate guest network. Destination: unregistered satellite relay.”
Before you could respond, James's gruff tone cut through the comms: “We have a perimeter breach. Civilian drone recovered from the north orchard—custom rig, high-res imaging sensors. It's been here before.”
Sarah entered without knocking, her expression unreadable. She placed a tablet before you. On screen: Lucy's private journal entries, flagged by Nova for “ideological deviation.” Sarah's gaze held yours. “She's not just questioning, Ben. She's documenting.”
Three breaches: digital, physical, ideological. The morning's first coffee cooled, untouched.