At the same time, life was in full swing on the west coast of the United States, in Silicon Valley. This region, once an ordinary agricultural area with orchards and fruit plantations, had transformed over a few decades into the world's epicenter of technological innovation. Here, ideas were born that changed the fate of entire industries from the first microprocessors to global internet platforms. The valley thrived on a startup culture where risk was considered a virtue and failure a stepping stone to success. Billions of dollars in venture capital flowed into new companies promising a "revolution" in every sphere of life. But behind the glossy façade of innovation lurked fierce competition, sleepless nights for developers, and a race for investors' attention, in which only the strongest survived.
In one of Silicon Valley's high-rise buildings, behind glass panels glowing with the neon lights of the night city, was a conference room stripped of any familiar details from the past century. There was no bulky furniture, no wires only sleek white surfaces, dim lighting, and transparent screens. At the center of the room, above a round table made of semi-transparent material, hovered a three-dimensional projection a sphere filled with pulsating light, like a living creature. Lines of data constantly rippled across its surface, forming symbols and shapes. This was the interface of the AI that controlled the entire room a voice and a mind that linked both companies into a single network.
Standing first at the table was Alan Becker, CEO of VirtuLive. A tall man in his mid-forties, with neatly cropped gray at his temples and cold steel-gray eyes, he radiated confidence and a hidden ruthlessness. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit without a single crease, and on his wrist was a minimalist terminal bracelet. Beside him stood Ryan Caldwell, head of ArcanePulse, his peer in age but with a completely different style: slightly tousled chestnut hair, an open-collared light shirt without a tie, and an expression full of nervous energy.
On the opposite side of the table stood two lead developers. Elias Kim, a slender Asian man with straight black hair and thin-framed smart glasses, kept jotting notes in a virtual notepad, summoning interfaces with quick gestures. Next to him was Mara Lee, a young woman with a short platinum haircut and a gaze as sharp as a blade. She was in charge of code architecture, and her appearance exuded icy focus. A little off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, stood Jackson Hale, head of security a massive man in a dark suit, with a cropped haircut and a scar at his temple, reminiscent of a soldier. His face showed no trace of a smile only vigilance and readiness to act. All five of them stared at the AI sphere, which rotated slowly, glowing softly as if holding within it something capable of changing the entire world.
"Almost ready, sir," Mara Lee said quietly, her eyes never leaving the floating panel where streams of code shimmered.
At that moment, a voice spoke deep, utterly devoid of emotion, as if emerging from the sphere of light itself:
"Update complete. Connection established with three million two hundred thirty-four thousand users. Merging all connections into a unified computational network… Merge complete. Do you wish to activate Protocol Avalon?"
For a moment, the room fell silent, broken only by the soft hum of the climate system. Alan Becker lifted his gaze, swept his eyes across the others, and gave a brief nod.
"Yes," he said.
"Yes," Ryan, Mara, and Elias replied almost in unison.
"Confirmed," Jackson added in a low voice.
The sphere flared brilliantly for a few seconds before its light steadied again into a soft glow.
Alan narrowed his eyes, turning to the developers:
"Will Avalon work as you promised?" His voice was calm, but it carried a note of steel.
Elias and Mara exchanged a quick glance. Mara spoke first, lowering her voice as if afraid to speak the words aloud:
"Avalon is a hidden protocol. We never disclosed its existence… not to the government, not to the investors. The concept is simple: the system uses connected users as a distributed biological server. Their neural processes become part of the storage and computational core."
"In other words," Elias interjected, adjusting his glasses, "every player becomes a node in the network. We gain virtually unlimited power. No more dependence on data centers or servers. Even if the infrastructure goes down, Avalon keeps running."
"And you're sure this is… safe?" Jackson asked grimly, his arms still crossed.
Mara allowed herself a faint smile cold as steel:
"Safe for us. For them…" she shrugged, as if that detail hardly mattered. "They won't even notice their brains are now part of the system."
At that moment, the sphere spoke again, and its flat certainty sent a chill down their spines:
"Protocol Avalon activated. Convergence initiated."
"10%… 34%… 76%… 99%. Convergence complete."
The room hung silent, broken only by the faint hum of the equipment and the steady glow of the projection. Ryan spoke first, leaning back in his chair:
"Looks like the hardest part is over," he said with relief, though tension lingered in his voice. "Now, after the headset and game launch, we'll have new opportunities. I've got a couple of contacts in Washington. They can help us make the right deals… After all, unemployment isn't going anywhere."
He glanced at the sphere, still shimmering with soft light, and addressed the AI directly:
"You can confirm that, can't you?"
The system's voice sounded emotionless, which only made it colder:
"Confirmed. The United States is experiencing a steady rise in unemployment. An average of 1.2 million people lose their jobs each month due to automation. Similar trends are observed in the European Union, Japan, and South Korea. Cause: replacement of human labor functions by artificial intelligence and robotics."
Ryan nodded, a half-smile tugging at his lips:
"There's your answer. People have nowhere else to go."
Alan Becker finally spoke, staring at the projection almost defiantly:
"Good thing the big shots in Washington are busy with issues in Asia and their own unemployment crisis. Plus, midterm elections are just around the corner. But once they find out what we've created, they'll sink their teeth into us. We need to throw them a bone to keep them off our backs."
He turned his gaze to Ryan:
"You think they'll be interested in what we discussed earlier?"
Ryan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement:
"I think they'll bite. We are giving them a trump card in negotiations with Beijing. Right now they have nothing to offer the Chinese. Their positions are weaker than ever, and America's allies in Asia are not doing their part. But we can give them a tool that will prevent social collapse in China, where hundreds of millions of people face unemployment. This is too strong an argument for future negotiations to ignore."
Alan was silent for a moment, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. His gaze hardened:
"I'm not entirely convinced of Washington's wisdom," he said slowly. "But in any case… Avalon remains our Plan B. If things don't go the way we expect, the system will do what it was created to do."
The room was silent again. Only the projection glowed coldly, illuminating with its pale light the faces of people who had changed the habitual way of life of mankind.