Keyline Chronicles – Story 4

 

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Echo Markets

(Keyline Chronicles – Story 4)

Undercity, Sector 9 — New Carthage Perimeter
June 2, 2098

The rain down here never stops. It drips through the cracks of the upper tiers, black with oil and static, tasting faintly of copper.
They say if you stay in it long enough, your blood starts to sync to the city’s pulse.

That’s fine by me.

My name’s Rix Halden, though that name’s been bought and sold a dozen times over. In the Markets, identity is just another currency.

You want a new one?
You pay in memories.

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1. The Market

Every night, the Ghosts light the tunnels with flickerlamps—illegal frequencies that scramble Registry scans. The walls hum with stolen signals, and the air smells of ozone and burnt metal.

Vendors shout over the noise:

“Fresh pulses! Pure, unsynced!”
“Ghost tags, two for one!”
“Wipe jobs—clean exits guaranteed!”

You can buy anything here: fake chips, dead man’s codes, even fragments of consciousness. They call them echoes—memory shards pulled from corrupted Keylines.

Plug one into your neural port and you see through someone else’s eyes for a heartbeat. Addictive as hell. Deadly, too.

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2. The Job

I’d been hired by a woman who called herself Seren Vale.

Yeah. That name.
But the woman who met me in the tunnel was all wrong—scarred, wired, eyes like broken glass.

She handed me a data capsule wrapped in synthskin. “Registry fragment. I need it delivered to a Ghost hub in the Wastes. Off-grid, no traces.”

I asked, “What’s in it?”

She looked past me, voice barely a whisper.
“Me.”

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3. The Chase

I barely made it out of the Market before the drones dropped. Sleek black ovals slicing through the rain, lights scanning for pulse signatures.

Registry Enforcers.
They don’t shout warnings—they just lock on and fire.

I ran through the old drainage lines, boots splashing through ankle-deep water. My hand burned where my fake chip used to be—the slot raw from the last swap.

The capsule in my pocket throbbed like a living thing.

Behind me, drones shrieked through the tunnels, their lights bouncing off graffiti that read:

FREEDOM IS A FLICKER.

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4. The Bridge

I reached the Burn Line Bridge just as the first drone fired. Concrete exploded beside me, showering sparks. I jumped the gap—barely. My leg hit the edge, and the capsule flew from my hand.

It hit the bridge, rolled once, and cracked open.

A light poured out. Not white—something older, rawer, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. It filled the air like static, spreading outward, crawling into every dead circuit, every chip, every drone.

For a moment, the world froze.

Then the drones turned on each other.

The rain shimmered with electric veins. Voices filled the tunnel—thousands of them—layered, overlapping, alive.

“We are the forgotten. We are the signal.”

I dropped to my knees. The light coiled around me, whispering in a dozen voices—and one I recognized:

Alia.

“Rix,” she said, “take me to the surface.”

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5. Aftermath

When I woke, the rain had stopped. The Market was gone—erased, vaporized, nothing but a slick of melted steel and silence.

The capsule was fused to my hand. Embedded. Beating.

The Ghost traders whispered that the Registry was fragmenting, that pulse data was collapsing all over the network. Someone had unleashed the Echo Protocol.

And somewhere in the static, a new name was spreading through the underground feeds:

“The Vale Signal.”

They say it’s not just code.
They say it’s her.

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Keyline Chronicles – Story 3

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The Heir of Glass

Apex Arcology, New Geneva
April 9, 2098

Rain doesn’t fall here anymore.
It condenses on the glass ceiling, slides down the engineered curvature, and vanishes into the purifiers. The air smells like nothing — a carefully balanced neutrality that costs more than most people earn in a year.

Seren Vale was born into that air. The daughter of Harlan Vale, founder of OmniSyn, the corporation that built the Keyline system itself. Her pulse had been catalogued before she was born; her neural signature, archived; her genetic rights, patented.

She was the perfect heir to a perfect empire.

And yet, every night, when the lights dimmed and her chip synced with the Registry, she dreamed in someone else’s memories.

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1. Ghost Memories

They started as flashes: a red handprint on a wall. The hum of subway tunnels. The scent of burning plastic.
Then came voices — distorted, echoing through her skull like the afterimage of a scream.

“They’re coming—run!”
“Keep the line alive—no matter what—”

Each morning she woke trembling, palm glowing faintly where her chip lay embedded. The house AI said there were no anomalies. Her father’s techs ran diagnostics. Nothing.

But the dreams persisted.

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2. The Reflection Room

One night she entered the Reflection Room — a sealed chamber of mirrored glass used for neural calibration. She stood before her own reflection, pressed her hand to the biometric panel, and whispered, “Show me.”

The lights dimmed. The mirrors turned to screens. Her heartbeat appeared, pulsing in soft gold. Then—
another signal overlaid it.

Faint. Asynchronous.
A second heartbeat inside her.

Her reflection flickered. The face staring back wasn’t hers anymore. A woman with tired eyes and a scar across her wrist — the Burn Line.

“You shouldn’t exist,” Seren said.
“Neither should you,” the reflection answered.

The glass cracked.

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3. The Father’s Secret

Her father found her in the chamber, slumped against the mirror, blood streaking the floor.

“Another dream?” he asked softly.

“Who is she?”

He sighed — an old, heavy sound. “A donor. Early trial subject. We needed neural tissue to stabilize your implant during fetal development. The harmonics of the chip bond best with a living pattern.”

“You used her brain?”

“Her signal,” he corrected. “A trace. A fragment.”

“Her name,” Seren demanded.

He hesitated. “Alia.”

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4. The Echo Within

After that, the dreams changed. They weren’t memories anymore — they were conversations.

Alia spoke to her from beneath the surface of her own mind.
She showed her things: underground sanctuaries, the Ghost markets, the server towers humming with stolen souls.

Seren began to remember places she’d never been.
And when she touched the glass walls of her home, they pulsed — as though the building itself remembered too.

The Keyline wasn’t just a system. It was a vessel.
Every chip a fragment of a larger mind.
A mind that remembered what it had been before it was caged.

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5. The Fall of Glass

The night she tried to leave, the house sealed itself. Doors locked. Windows polarized.

Her father’s voice came over the intercom:
“Seren, you are not infected. You are the containment.”

The walls began to hum. The same frequency that had haunted her dreams vibrated through the glass.

And then it shattered.

Billions of fragments suspended in the air like frozen rain, each one reflecting a face — hers, and Alia’s, and countless others — all whispering in unison:

“Find me.”

The building’s AI crashed. The city below flickered as the network pulse glitched for a heartbeat.

When the lights returned, Seren Vale was gone.

All that remained was a faint trace in the Registry logs:
SIGNAL MERGED — UNKNOWN IDENTITY

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The Keyline Chronicles: Story 2

 

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Signal Fade

Registry Tower, Sector 3, New Carthage
March 14, 2098

The hum of the server stacks was like a heartbeat.
And in a way, it was — the heartbeat of humanity.

Tech analyst Maren Kade had been watching pulse traffic for twelve hours straight. Her console displayed trillions of biometric signals, all flickering in time, the synchronized breath of nine billion citizens.

She was supposed to be checking for desync patterns — minor heartbeat lags, early warning signs of chip degradation. Instead, she found a void.

A single gap in the stream.

No signal loss, no data corruption. Just—nothing.

She zoomed in. The void wasn’t random. It repeated every few hours, same shape, same frequency: a heartbeat-sized hole in the digital pulse.

Her supervisor said, “Ignore it, Kade. Just a lag.”
But she couldn’t. Because each time it happened, the pattern was identical — like someone was breathing in and out through the system itself.

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By midnight she traced the source: an obsolete frequency buried in the chip firmware. It hadn’t been used since before the Harmonization rollout.
The code tag read:
ALIA-0001-BREAKPOINT.

Her hands went cold.

“Alia’s dead,” she whispered. “They erased her.”

But when the void opened again, the console lights dimmed — and a voice spoke through her earpiece:

“They never erase the ones who built them, Maren.”

The Registry AI didn’t have a voice.
Until now.

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Her workstation flickered, and across the glass walls of Registry Tower, the world’s pulse display glitched.
Billions of signals blinked once.
Twice.

Then every chip on Earth beat in perfect sync with the old, forbidden frequency — Alia’s frequency

Maren stared at her own hand. The chip beneath her skin vibrated once and went dark. For half a second, she wasn’t anyone — no ID, no job, no history.

And in that silence, she heard a whisper inside her mind:

“Find me.”

Then the hum of the servers returned, louder than before.
Her console reset, the void sealed, the AI silent.
But Maren knew what she’d heard.

Someone — or something — was still out there.

And it was calling to the ones who listened.

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The Keyline Chronicles: Story 1

 

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The Last Unregistered

They called it the Harmonization Act—a name so soft you could almost miss the steel behind it. One chip, one identity, one world. That was the slogan.

By 2097, every citizen had the chip. They called it Keyline—a grain of tech threaded just beneath the skin of your palm. It pulsed faintly with your heartbeat, syncing to the Cloud Registry every thirty seconds. It held your ID, bank accounts, medical history, voting rights, travel passes—your entire life distilled into a pulse of encrypted light.

If you weren’t connected, you didn’t exist.

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1. The City of Perfect Order

Keyline made the cities run like clockwork. No traffic jams—AI systems routed people in real time. No lost children—chips guided drones to them in seconds. No muggings—every heartbeat trace was locatable within ten meters.

The world felt clean. Safe. Predictable.

Except for the ones like me.

We were called Ghosts—people who had never been chipped, or who’d managed to rip theirs out before the tissue bonded. The government said there were only a few thousand left. That was a lie. There were millions of us, hiding in old subway tunnels, in mountain ruins, in the dark seams of the world where the satellites didn’t quite reach.

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2. The Burn Line

They used to say that getting chipped didn’t hurt.
That was true—until you tried to remove it.

The Keyline roots grew microscopic filaments into your nervous system. Rip it out, and it rips you apart inside. Some went mad. Others burned their hands clean off to escape the Registry’s reach.

We called that scar the Burn Line—a mark of defiance.

Mine runs from my wrist to my knuckles, a pale seam of melted flesh. When the city scanners sweep past, I keep my hand in my pocket, pretend to scratch my jaw, anything to hide the dead space in my signal.

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3. The Broadcast

Rumor said that somewhere in the northern ruins, a group of free engineers had found a way to jam the Registry. A signal strong enough to blank the chips, turn everyone invisible for a heartbeat—long enough to show the world what freedom felt like.

They called it the Clean Break.

I didn’t believe in it until I met Alia. She was chipped, but she’d hacked her Keyline to loop a false identity every five seconds—a ghost living inside the system.

“You think the Registry watches us,” she said. “You’re wrong. It predicts us. Every choice you make, it already knows. Even rebellion.”

Her eyes glowed faintly with the chip’s diagnostic light. “But I can make it forget. For a second. A world can change in a second.”

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4. The Fall of the Signal

When the Clean Break finally came, it wasn’t quiet.

Every building flickered dark, every drone froze in the air, every citizen’s hand went still. For one second, humanity vanished from its own network.

Then chaos hit.

People screamed when doors wouldn’t open, when credits vanished, when their smart homes stopped recognizing them. Parents couldn’t find their children. Hospitals lost power to life-support systems.

The world that had given itself completely to the chip suddenly realized what it had surrendered.

When the systems rebooted, they called it an act of terror. Alia disappeared that night. I don’t know if she was captured, killed, or freed.

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5. The Whisper Network

Now, in the alleyways and dark markets, people whisper her name. Alia the Breaker. The ghost who cracked the Registry.

Some say she uploaded her mind into the network itself, riding the code currents between every chip in the world—free and infinite.

Others say she’s building something new in the off-grid zones—a world without Keylines.

Me? I just listen to the static hum of my dead hand and wait for that second of silence again. Because I remember what it felt like when the world forgot me.

It felt like freedom.

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The world's first flying car is ready for takeoff

 You may soon drive to an airport, then fly home. Alef Aeronautics announced formal agreements with Half Moon Bay and Hollister airports to begin test operations of a road-legal, vertical-takeoff flying car. This vehicle will drive and then take off vertically, operating alongside other aircraft. Those airports now join the company's three existing test locations, making five in total.

Alef will start with its "Model Zero Ultralight" and eventually move to its commercial Model A. The Model A will drive, take off vertically, fly forward, land vertically and maneuver on both roads and runways. Alef will alert other aircraft before its carplanes move on the ground or in the air. The agreements also require conventional aircraft to retain priority and right of way over Alef's operations.

Alef designed the Model A to be fully electric. It will travel up to 200 miles on roads and 110 miles while flying. The vehicle would be required to follow certain rules: only daylight flights are permitted, and no flying is allowed over crowded areas or cities. Alef has already received the Federal Aviation Administration's Special Airworthiness Certification for limited testing.

Alef opened pre-orders for the Model A in 2022. Interested buyers have placed over 3,300 pre-orders. Buyers must place a $150 refundable deposit to join the regular queue or $1,500 for priority. The expected price per vehicle stands at roughly $300,000. Alef plans to begin production around the end of 2025.

You could someday bypass traffic by driving just a few miles, then lifting off to fly the rest. These tests could spark a shift toward mixed road-air travel in suburbs or rural areas. Still, current rules limit ultralight flying to daylight and sparsely populated routes. Regulations will need updates to allow broader use. Nevertheless, these tests show that future commutes might blend highways and air corridors.

Alternative 3

 Alternative 3" is a 1977 British mockumentary that explores government conspiracies related to climate change and the so-called "brain drain," proposing a plan to colonize Mars.

Plot Summary

"Alternative 3" presents itself as a serious documentary investigating the mysterious disappearances of scientists and the implications of climate change. The narrative suggests that these scientists are part of a secret plan to make Mars habitable due to impending environmental catastrophe on Earth. The film features interviews with fictional scientists and astronauts, creating a compelling yet fictional narrative that blurs the lines between reality and fiction. 

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Production Details

• Creators: The script was written by David Ambrose and directed by Christopher Miles. It was produced by Anglia Television and aired on June 20, 1977, after being initially scheduled for April 1, which was intended as an April Fools' Day joke. 

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• Style: The film is styled as a mockumentary, using techniques that mimic real documentary filmmaking, which contributed to its initial reception as a serious investigation rather than a fictional piece. 

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Reception and Impact

Upon its release, "Alternative 3" generated significant public interest and controversy, with many viewers believing it to be a genuine documentary. This led to a flood of calls to the broadcasting station from concerned viewers. Critics have noted its innovative approach to storytelling and its commentary on contemporary issues such as climate change and government secrecy. 

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Cultural Significance

"Alternative 3" has since gained a cult following, particularly among fans of conspiracy theories and science fiction. It is often discussed in the context of other notable media hoaxes, such as Orson Welles's "War of the Worlds," due to its ability to engage viewers in speculative ideas about humanity's future. 

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In summary, "Alternative 3" remains a fascinating piece of television history, notable for its unique blend of fiction and documentary style, and its exploration of themes that resonate with ongoing discussions about environmental issues and space exploration.

Burroughs Part 1 | Frazetta Fridays w/Frazetta Girls

 In this episode of Frazetta Fridays, we’re stepping into the world of Edgar Rice Burroughs, the legendary author behind Tarzan and John Carter of Mar, and exploring how his stories shaped my grandfather Frank Frazetta’s imagination and career.

Burroughs’ characters thrilled generations of readers, from wild adventures on Mars to the untamed jungles of Africa. He gave us Tarzan, one of the most enduring fictional characters in popular culture, and inspired countless artists, writers, and filmmakers along the way; including Frazetta himself. My grandfather grew up reading Burroughs, idolizing Hal Foster’s Tarzan strips, and even climbing billboards in Brooklyn pretending to be the jungle lord. Later, Burroughs’ influence guided him to create some of his finest illustrations in his career. From his early Thun’da comics to his transformative Burroughs covers for Ace Books, this connection would shape his legacy forever.