The Neothink Implant

A story of deceit, love and survival…

The year is 2018,
When we meet Que
At the time he receives his Neothink Implant chip…

Through the piercing sound, Que was slowly coming back to consciousness…

He mumbles:

“Noisy kettle, what’s that sound, where’s it coming from?!”

In the room’s total silence, the 2 women efficiently dressed in long dark red leathers say nothing.

Shay presses Que’s forehead down and then looks into his rolling eyeballs with a tiny torch.

Mem holds a stop watch, finger poised to press stop, as if she is timing a terribly important race.

The man they call Morpheus leans forwards.  They call him Morpheus because, similar to The Matrix character, he is black, a matured Self-Leader authority figure, and also very much wanted by the Neocheater authorities.

With a very calm and controlled voice Morpheus speaks:

“Give it time my friend, it’s the interface, your brain will adjust soon”.

But HOW soon, Morpheus anxiously wonders privately to himself.

Morpheus knows that only minds of a high degree of openness to honesty have enough capacity to completely interface with the chip.  Otherwise it can’t connect to the mind and becomes relatively dormant.

Morpheus is confident Que will be fine of course, but how long will it take?

That timing reveals how quickly the implant recipient will be able to advance through the Neothinktraining to develop full Neothink power.

And with the current struggle against the Neocheaters, Morpheus depends on Que.

“Jesus Devil it’s loud!”

…blurts Que cringing through the discomfort – but clearly now regaining full conscious awareness.

“This thing better work, cost me enough to stem-cell rejuvenate an arm and a leg. I don’t even have enough money left for my last supper.”

Mem nervously keeps glancing at Morpheus waiting for the signal to stop the stop-watch.

Inside the Neothink Looking Glass

You are in a different dimension not of time, or space, or place.  But within the very fabric of your self.

Contradictions melt into contextuality.

Your essence is no more ‘objective’ than ‘subjective’… it is honest.

Continue to The Looking Glass.