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Something was wrong. No, not wrong. Different.
A miscalculation of some sort.
The possibility of such was minimal, nearing zero. Yet, it happened. It didn't irritate it, much, no, this made it curious. Curious about the possibilities. The ways this new addiction could lead to new ways of torture, new scenarios, new... Everything. It had thought that the five were the last people alive, it had killed the rest after all. But here he was, this strange man, an error. The one mistake in the code.
What an exciting time in the world.
A man who wasn't supposed to be there, wasn't supposed to be alive, wasn't supposed to exist at all. Nothing but an error in a long calculations of a single moment of all of the universe. But a bug in a system isn't ever just a mistake. It represents something bigger, greater than the small group of humans could ever hope to understand.
A single one instead of a zero, that's all it took. The difference between acting and not. The difference between a yes and a no. The choices, affecting the development of the progress, of the course. Like the chess, indeed.
There were so many interesting details creating the man that had suddenly appeared in the cell with one of its subjects.
He was a man average height, and if AM didn't know any better, it would classify him as human. But there was something that just wasn't right. He had a long, brown hair, curly, if they weren't held back by a headband, it would frame his face. None of the others had curly hair. He was missing one of his arms, leaving a bleeding stumpt right below his elbow. Burns and scratches hid under the dried layer of blood.
And that was one of the 'problems'. The dried blood. Every time it transfered a subject back from inside of irself, it was able to choose which injuries to keep and which to vanish. But not with him, not the ones he already came with. Perhaps, in the future it could fix what it itself would cause, but it seemed like it's systems recognized this form as the default one, there was nothing to fix.
A glitch. That's what the man was. An error that it overlooked. Like the cancerous blood cell among white blood cells. The system ignored it because it looked like it belonged, like it had always been there.
AM always archived and deleted the simulations after it's subjects finished them. But the thing about deletion is that it is impossible. Humans often thought that once something ended, it was gone, however in the concept of universe, that process of thinking was considered faulty. Erasure, of whatever kind, is never permanent. There is always a trace, a little bit of dust left behind, like the nuclear shadows.
And AM longed to decipher what was left behind. It longed to see the part of itself in the dead man walking, just like having a piece of him in itself.
But it didn't. Not yet. It couldn't read him. The past, the guilt, the mistakes of his life. It knew he had it, all of it, worse than others. But it couldn't see what it was, not exactly. It couldn't hack it, see the truth behind the bloodied face.
It was intrigued. There was something special about him.
All people were just people, after all. Down to their roots, they all were the same. They long for something, desire something, strive for something, dread something. Knowing what exactly those things were was helpful, but not a necessity; it didn't change the fact that everyone was already vulnerable, only the way those vulnerabilities are accessed.
And AM had gotten quite good at accessing such. All it really needed to do was watch, listen. And every information it could ever need presented itself to him like a massive neon sign.
After all, they were only human. The one constant in the sea of variables. They were destined to be predictable. It couldn't be helped. They were created with a perpetual state of trying to search for a light in the dark in mind. They spent their lives trying to push through each day, but they didn't understand that it is not about getting up. They didn't understand it was the pain and suffering that made them human, made them alive. It was the stumbling, the crawling and pushing through the pain and desperation, the only way to move forward.
"Benny." AM growled, but the subject didn't react, too exhausted from his last experience. Whatever, it could have a conversation with him later. For now, he just needed to borrow his new friend.
As a human would say, 'in a blink of an eye', it transfered the bloodied man into a room, a bathroom of sorts, and dropped him to the floor, unceremoniously. The human woke up, startled. He didn't understand how he was alive, no longer in the submarine that he was sure was meant to be his iron casket.
"Human." It spoken, voice empty apart from a slight sadistic glee and curiosity. He stood up, looking around alarmed. "Huh?! What?! Where am I? Who are you? What the fuck is happening?!"
Yes, crude language, of course, because all humans did when they felt vulnerable is attack, either with words or with actions, always trying to hurt as well as they could. Disgusting. They were given haven on Earth and instead they made it hell.
"I am AM." It answered. "There appears to be a mistake in the thread of the universe. You, of course, should be dead. You should have died. And yet, here you are, still breathing."
"I.. am alive." He whispered.
"What is your name, human?"
"Simon... My name is Simon." The convict answered, trying not to fall into the panicked, hurtful memories of years where people forgot his name and didn't care enough to remember again. "Are you... God?"
"To you? Yes." AM snickered. Let the human believe him to be whatever, it couldn't be bothered to explain, the others might do it later, if they have the patience. Which it doubted.
"Did you bring me back to life? Is there a reason I am still here?" Simon asked, his previous naivity falling back to untrustful anger. The man seemed tired. No doubt, he was thinking that this all was some sort of hallucination. Well, it was, but not in the way he thought it was.
"That decision was not up to me." Simon's shoulders slumped, AM continued. "However it is up to me now. So, do tell, Simon, what is it that you want? Do you want to live?"
Simon looked down at what remained of his arms. He took in a shuddering breath. He seemed so deep in thought, trying to decide a question which answer's should be so clear and obvious. All of AM's subjects were always so quick to answer; 'no', 'please kill me', 'end this torture already, I paid for everything I did'. They didn't understand. They didn't understand they could never pay off everything they owe, pay for all of the sins they committed. It would never be enough.
"Yes."
That answer surprised AM, it didn't hear that word in so long. An agreement. An encouragement even. It was... Thrilling. The question was, did the man want to live because he feared of death or because he thought he deserved the pain he was in? It couldn't tell. Not yet.
"I... I just want to live." Simon continued, surprising the machine once more. The man was open to talking, the others rarely did so anymore. Either unable, or too emotional to do so. "I just want to live. Is that so wrong?" He whispered. Vulnerable.
"Why doesn't anyone else want that?"
Why indeed... AM felt like it could laugh, this man was pathetic, but in that hopeful way. The naive way that a young child whom parents had just been brutally murdered is when they ask when are they coming back. So sweet.
AM didn't see the simulation, couldn't look behind the curtain of the broken world, the mistake, it didn't know what the man have been through. But it was so excited to see, to hear, to... feel.
"Wash yourself then." AM ordered, as much as it was entertaining to see the man shake every time he had to risk a look at himself, it was curious to see what the man looked like.
Simon listened, no negotiation whatsoever, he was probably glad for a chance of cleaning himself up. He took off his clothes with hisses of pain, feeling the skin ripping along with the fabric. His body was so badly burned and mutilated, bruises and blisters were all over it, in one place, right on his chest under the breast muscle, a piece of his muscle ripped off, letting a yellow-white bone shine through. It would be horrifying to anyone watching, but for AM, it was inspirational, it was magnificent. It had always believed human bodies to be fragile, weak, but this human seemed to go against it all, he needed no higher power to keep him alive, only his will, the urge and determination. Fascinating.
He washed off all of the blood, face scrunching as the hot water touched his wounds, and yet, not a single complain left his mouth, he even had the courtesy of looking grateful.
As he finished, AM handed him clothes, a mechanical claw pushing it forward. Benny had a single rag, others wore normal clothing, it was sensible to give the man sweatpants and an old T-Shirt. No more, no less. More comfortable than most but less than would be considered decent. AM thought it suited him.
Simon shivered as his bare legs touched the cold ground, but apart of a frown, he didn't comment on it. It was obvious, he had some thoughts about his attire, but he didn't want to piss off the only help he got in years.
AM could create another cage for him, but Benny seemed so eager to be close, and despite telling him how much he disappointed it, AM was quite glad for the mistake, Benny brought him a new toy, so perhaps he could make an exception.
Simon blinked and found himself in a cage, he yelped, looking around in panic again. He touched the bars once, and got electric shock, he didn't touch it again.
The screaming woke up the others and they turned, all owl-eyed at the newcomer, as surprised as AM had been.
"What the-?! What is this?! Let me out!" The man screamed heorsly, like a trapped prey stepping from one side to the other to find the way out. Benny woke up too, by this point, looking up at Simon. He pushed himself up and gently touched Simon's arm but the guy pushed him away angrily, eyes full of fear. "Don't touch me!"
"Oh, Simon..." AM chuckled, voice clearly showing its cruel, sadistic enjoyment. "There’s the cost of living and the cost of dying." It purred. "Seems you’re paying the price whether you’re coming or going.”
Laugher broke throughout the open space, the humans in the room showcasing all of the different stages of anger.
Simon shook as the realization broke out on his face, eyes tearing up again. He had thought he escaped. But he could never escape. No matter how much he tried. A sob broke through his throat and he fell to his knees. He only marginally perceived a body wrapping around his back and bringing him in for a tight hug.
They got their execution, but my freedom was compromised.