Thursday, April 28, 2005

Serve it Cold

I worry about us. No Exit. Two of our members have left us, and neither is likely to return.

Janissary was reinserted a few days ago. That's her choice, her decision to return to the inner world. She was only a kid, I know, but she was among the best of No Exit, and she'll be missed. I'll keep an eye on her, but she's a bluepill now. Now she becomes yet another reason to protect the system, another reason to do what we do.

Then Eunoia was killed. Yeah, murdered by the Merovingian's men. That really came as a shock. Merv has been ticked at us for a long time, but I never expected him to go for Eunoia like that. Guess he really thinks he is invulnerable. Tough for him. The night I heard about the murder, thirty-seven Exiles died by my hand. With that fire bled off for now, I now turn to the search for her murderer. That may take some time.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I'll bide my time, I'll wait and see. My mind has already plunged into the endless calculations and possibilities for justice. My eyes will stay open, my ears will stay keen. One day, my gun will meet the murder, and only one of us will walk away.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Side Jobs

I called Tyndall again today. After disrupting their operations for so long, I decided to do a few favors to avoid straining the Truce. And I still feel I should do something after Swallow's...never mind. Gray approved the calls, so I've been running Zionist errands for the past few days. I'm beginning to see why Zion needs operatives so badly.

I've had to rescue seven of their own operatives from situations that could have been avoided, including one who had been under drugs since before the Truce. These people depress me. most disgusitng of all, I had to deliver a data disk to a Merovingian operative, some kind of trade with Zion. The blasted Exile was a werewolf, and had obviously heard of me. It took two minutes to make the trade, and we were less than a centimeter from tearing each other apart the whole time. When I left, I got a snide remark from the beast, but settled for flipping him off on my way out. I'll track him down later.

My freelance work is picking up, I must say. Since I started contracting with Violet to keep the Legion in order, I've been contacted by several other programs looking for a merc. I despise Exiles, but these let me go shoot other useless programs, and then get paid for it. Any case, Mockingbird called me up, wanted some special candlesticks for her collection. She offered good oney, and the chance to leave a burning trail through Crusher terrirtory, so I obliged. When my trail of damage finally reached the building, I had company. Two other programs had just bought the supposedly reserved candlesticks, and would not return them. The dealer just shrugged and said that they made a better offer. The bigger of the two buyers offered me a deal, something about fetching a list the wanted. Whatever. They were Exiles, and I was ticked off.

I'm getting faster with the shotgun draw, the big guy didn't have enough time to yell before I blew him into the far wall. The second guy grabbed the candlesticks and ran, only to have his back pumped full of lead. That's my kind of deal. The dealer started oozing apologies for selling the candlesticks, so I relented. I gave him a neck snap instead of a bullet. Don't ever cheat me. Anyways, Mockingbird was thrilled, and only complained about the amount of blood stuck to the pieces. Women.

Phone's going off again, looks like Flood wants a favor. Up his. Take care when leaving, Lupines are about.

Monday, April 11, 2005


There was an assassination last night. Three Exiles, leaders of a planned revolt, were cut down in a single night. I would know, I killed them.

Gray called me, told me there was an uprising in the works, and that the three leaders were to be...deleted. They had been careless, and Gray now knew their positions. Too bad for them. First targetwas Annapavlov. Poor Exile never saw it coming. A boot to the stomach, slam to the head, and a following bullet. Deletion complete.

Thessalia was next. This guy had guards, two or three of them. Guards willing to die to protect him. Well, at least they tried. Thessalia himself had a Boorman 5000 under his coat, and got me real good in the right shoulder. I made sure to crush his throat, and let him die for a few minutes for that.

That left Aitken. The leader of these three, he had all the documents Gray needed to get the rest of the uprising. Aitken was full of himself. Only had one guard, a pushover, and his door wasn't locked. He was waiting for me, though. Actaully said "How dare you attack the Great Aitken!". I hate it when they say that, almost makes me feel bad for killing them. Almost. His first and only shot went wide, and I left him with the barrel of his gun buried in his chest. He carried the key to his safe, the idiot, so the documents were easily retreived and mailed to Gray via hardline.

Got a commendation from Gray, approval for my "efficiency". Not sure if that's good or bad. I didn't care, I was bleeding bad from my shoulder, and kinda ticked off at myself for not dodging it. I headed over to Duality, killed a couple of Furies who didn't like me walking in their neighborhood. The view from Duality's roof is incredible. Always makes me feel better to look out and see what it is I'm fighting for, what it is I killed those Exiles for. This world, with so much potential for perfection. It's beautiful.

By this time I was starting to bleed in the real world, and had to go. I jumped, enjoying the sudden silence as I dropped twenty stories to the ground. All you can hear is a low hiss of the air; and for a moment, your mind wonders if this world is not truly real. You can't let this thought stay in your head, otherwise you turn into Silly Putty on impact. It hurts when you land, sure, but the experience is worth it. For that last half second, your belief in the system must be absolute, alse you're dead. Nothing tops that.

Well, I have to try and get some sleep. Finally managing to tune out the background noises of the Being and its crew, but my hand still goes to the gun whenever I hear someone up and about. I'll get used to it.

Friday, April 08, 2005

No Exit

The Matrix seemed to vibrate around Wraithsight. It was always odd, that moment right before jackout, when sensory inputs come from both worlds. The false world wavered as the process completed, and dissolved into green code as a loud hum filled Wraithsight's ears. He sat up, jooints cracking from his long stay in the Matrix. He could see a blue glow from beyond his pod's main window. Wraithsight threw on his faded, tattered jacket, and stepped outside into the barren wastes of Earth.

A hovercraft, its pads ablaze with blue lightning, slowly dropped in front of his pod. The word "Being" was emblazoned on its bow. Searchlights pierced the darkness around it, illuminating Wraithsight's makeshift pod. He raised a hand, waving it at the hovercraft, trying to get the pilot's attention. A searchlight swiveled towards him, bathing him in white light. He squinted against the light, holding his hand in front of his eyes to keep the intruding brightness out. He heard the sound of a hatch opening, the hiss of the pneumatic struts lowering. A female voice called out.


He saw a silhouette walking towards him, flanked by two others. The searchlight shifted slightly, and he straightened, saluting sharply. "Captain Eunoia, permission to come aboard."

Eunoia raised an eyebrow, then returned the salute. "Granted. Welcome to No Exit, Jay."

Monday, March 28, 2005

My Story

Welcome back. Please, do not mind the weapon. One must always remain armed in these troubled times.

My story? Yes, I did say I would. Very well, open your ears, redpill, and hear of my choice.


I was once Jay Rizen, computer technician. I lived as the bluepills, happy and prosperous, completely ignorant of the war raging outside my little existence. Until one day, I stumbled on a clue.

It was a Thursday, I believe. The local police brought in a CPU unit, and asked me to pull the message logs from the crashed system. The unit had belonged to an average person, who had gone missing just two days before. I got to work, and had the logs reconstructed in short order. The logs detailed messages back and forth from the user to "Whitefire". I had heard of Whitefire, a hacker and network terrorist. They spoke of something called the "Matrix", that it was the life that we knew, that I knew. And that it was false. Shaken, I phoned the police, and informed them that the logs were complete, and had clues to a known terrorist. Within minutes, Agent Johnson arrived. He demanded the logs, and forbade me from speaking of this event.

Mere days later, I recieved a phone call from Whitefire.
"If you wish to escape this false world, be at Club Nightfall in thirty minutes."
Intrique and fear fought in my mind, but curiousity won out, and I made my way to Nightfall. It was there that I was offered the red pill, told that it was the way into the real world. Whitefire, captain of the Zion hovercraft Exorcism, told me that I had seen the truth, the Matix was false, and the world outside was real.
I swallowed their story, so to speak, and their pill.

They say that everyone goes into shock when they see the real world. I thought I had died and gone to hell. My horror at seeing the state of the planet was matched only by my horror at hearing that I could not return to the Matrix. I had been wrenched from my world of peace, to a barren wasteland, to fight for a cause I did not believe in. Mankind should not have to choose the real world sight unseen. Let them live in bliss, I argued, let them live as they have chosen. But no. Whitefire told me of Morpheus, who commanded us to strain the Matrix, to free every mind we could. I was shattered.

Yet, it has never been in my nature to directly confront those more powerful then me. I decided that I would not try to fight the crew, but would play nice, be a good little Zionist. While on slavage duty at the docks, I began to stow pieces of machinery beneath the Exorcism's deck. While at broadcast depth, I would carefully hide these in a cave near our usual spot. Gradually, I built up a pod. It was really little more than a cockpit on the outside, with one chair, surrounded by display screens. I could not have an operator, so I began to secretly code an automated operator program. Finally, while salvaging the remains of a wrecked ship, I stole the core. That night, while the rest of the crew was asleep, I left the ship with the core, and fled to my pod.

Once in the Matrix, I contacted Agent Johnson, and told him of my plans. I would fight to preserve the Matrix, to keep mankind in their happy little lives. In addition, I gave him the mission plans for the Exorcism, detailing their future bluepill targets.

I have not seen Whitefire since. I imagine she was displeased with my esacpe, and outraged at the presence of Agents on her mission. It does not matter. Now I exist as Wraithsight, and this is my purpose.

Sooner or later, everyone must make a choice. This is mine.

Have a nice existence.

Welcome, Redpills

Greetings, Children of Zion, Followers of the Machine, and Exile programs;

Welcome. Please, sit down. The seat is not real, I know, but few things are, in this world.

My name is Wraithsight. My crewmates call me Jay Rizen. The Exiles I hunt know me as the Ghost who Watches. Mine is a story of chaos, rejection, and loyalty. I will tell it to you sometime, if you wish.

But for now, you may peruse this site as you wish. There is not much here for now, but like many things, change comes quickly.

Have a nice existence.