Chapter 13: Drone, 4th Dimensional UDA

Summary of chapter 12

Miranda Hughes, the unyielding matriarch of the Hughes family, faces a harrowing ordeal when her niece, Jodie Hughes, is discovered brutally assaulted outside the Soggy Doggy tavern. In a gripping account of perseverance and family loyalty, "Lights Out: The Reset" delves into the chilling aftermath of Jodie's attack. As she lies battered and bruised with her life hanging in the balance, high-tech medical bots race against time to save her, mirroring the intensity and urgency that pulses through this grim dark science fiction saga.

The Hughes family is thrust into a vortex of panic and determination, with Miranda at the helm, her resolve as unbreakable as the advanced technology working to mend Jodie's ravaged body. This tense chapter, brimming with futuristic medical marvels and the raw grit of human emotion, culminates with Jodie's voice piercing the sterile atmosphere of the medical bay, marking the starting point of a grueling recovery in a world where showing vulnerability can have dire consequences.

As the plot of "Lights Out: The Reset" thickens, readers will be left anxiously awaiting the revelation of the one responsible for this heinous crime, and the swift justice the Hughes family is determined to exact. Tune in to this dystopian thriller that expertly weaves family drama with cutting-edge technology, ensuring the Hughes' fight for survival and retribution in a merciless world keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Chapter 13

I plop down next to Lydia, my eyes never leaving the creature. "Ain't like nothin' we've ever seen before, is it?" I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around the sight of it.

Lydia leans in, her eyes wide with curiosity. "It's somethin' else, alright. Like a floatin' tentacle ball." She shudders, but I can see the fascination in her eyes. "What do ya think it is, Tim?"

I rub my chin, my mind racing with possibilities. "Could be one of them hive mind drones I've heard about. But I ain't never seen one up close."

Lydia's eyes widen. "Hive mind? You don't think it's dangerous, do ya?"

I shake my head. "Don't reckon so. If it was, I think it would've done somethin' by now." I lean back, trying to get comfortable. But my eyes keep getting drawn back to the creature. "What do ya think it's doin' here, Lydia?"

She shrugs, her eyes never leaving the creature. "Could be lost. Or maybe it's lookin' for somethin'."

I nod, my mind still racing. "Or maybe it's tryin' to tell us somethin'." I look at Lydia, my eyes wide. "You don't think it's a sign, do ya?"

Lydia looks at me, her eyes filled with concern. "A sign? Of what, Tim?"

I shrug, my mind still racing. "I don't know. But somethin' ain't right. I can feel it."

Lydia puts her hand on mine, her touch warm and comforting. "Don't go gettin' all worked up now, Tim. We don't know nothin' for sure."

I nod, trying to calm down. But my mind is still racing. "You're right, Lydia. I'm just jumpin' to conclusions." I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Let's just watch some TV. Maybe it'll help take our minds off things."

I reach for the remote, my hand shaking slightly. But as I turn on the TV, I can't help but feel like something is off. The colors seem brighter, the sounds louder. And the creature, it seems to be pulsing, its tentacles moving in a rhythm that's almost hypnotic.

I blink, trying to clear my vision. But the pulsing only seems to get stronger, the colors brighter. And then, I start to see things. Shadows moving in the corners of my eyes. Strange shapes forming in the static of the TV.

I turn to Lydia, my heart pounding. "You seein' this too, Lydia?"

She nods, her eyes wide with fear. "I see it, Tim. What's happenin'?"

I shake my head, my mind racing. "I don't know. But somethin' ain't right." I stand up, my legs shaky. "I'm gonna get some water. You want some?"

Lydia nods, her eyes never leaving the TV. "Yeah, Tim. I think that's a good idea."

I walk to the kitchen, my mind still racing. But as I pour the water, I start to feel better. The colors seem to fade, the pulsing to slow. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

But as I walk back to the living room, I can see that Lydia is still entranced. Her eyes are glued to the TV, her body rigid. And the creature, it seems to be pulsing faster now, its tentacles moving in a frenzy.

I sit down next to Lydia, my heart pounding. "Lydia, we need to turn off the TV."

She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving the screen. "I can't, Tim. I can't look away."

I reach for the remote, my hand shaking. But as I press the button, the TV doesn't turn off. Instead, the static seems to grow louder, the pulsing stronger.

I look at Lydia, my heart pounding. "We need to get out of here, Lydia. Now."

She nods, her eyes wide with fear. And together, we run out of the house, leaving the creature and the TV behind. But as we step outside, I can't help but feel like we're not alone. Like something is watching us, waiting for us.

I look at Lydia, my heart pounding. "We need to get help, Lydia. We can't do this alone."

She nods, her eyes filled with fear. And together, we start to run, our hearts pounding, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. But as we run, I can't help but feel like we're being followed, like something is closing in on us.

And then, everything goes black.

Then suddenly, we are among other creatures that look like the drone near by was a large organic looking structure, that I could feel… it's thoughts. "Do you see that Lydia?"

"Do you see that, Lydia?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The world around us has transformed in the blink of an eye. We're no longer in our cozy living room, but amidst a swarm of organic structures that mirror the drone we found earlier. They're all around us, zooming past like we're standing in the middle of a bustling, alien highway.

Lydia clutches my arm, her grip tight. "I see it, Tim," she says, her voice shaky. "What's happening?"

I wish I had an answer for her, but I'm just as clueless. I can feel the drone's presence, its thoughts brushing against mine like a soft breeze. It's not speaking in words, but in emotions, in images. I see flashes of a hive mind, a collective consciousness that spans across these creatures.

Suddenly, I'm not just Timothy Jones anymore. I'm a part of something bigger, something that stretches far beyond the confines of our small Appalachian town. I can feel the pulse of the hive mind, the hum of a thousand thoughts that aren't mine, yet somehow are.

"Tim?" Lydia's voice cuts through the cacophony of thoughts. "We need to get out of here."

She's right. As fascinating as this is, it's also terrifying. We're not meant to be here, not meant to be a part of this. I nod, my decision made. "Let's go."

We start to move, careful not to touch any of the creatures. They seem oblivious to our presence, focused on their own tasks. As we weave through them, I can't help but feel a sense of awe. Despite the fear, there's a part of me that's fascinated by this, by the sheer scale of the hive mind.

But as quickly as these visions came, they start to fade. The creatures around us begin to blur, their forms becoming less distinct. I can feel the connection to the hive mind weakening, the thoughts growing fainter.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, it's over. We're back in our living room, the drone still hovering near the chair. I look at Lydia, her face pale. "Did you see that?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nods, her eyes wide. "I saw it, Tim. I saw it all."

We stand there for a moment, just staring at each other. I can see the fear in her eyes, but there's something else there too. Curiosity, maybe. Or perhaps it's the same sense of awe

I blink, trying to make sense of what's happening. "Can you understand me now?" a voice said, echoing in my mind. I hope this isn't the drone.

I close my eyes hard, then open them. "Yes?" I ask, hoping there was no answer.

"Yes" Lydia said, without moving her mouth. Her eyes widen as she realizes what just happened.

"Lydia, you spoke without moving your mouth." I, Timothy, said, my voice filled with confusion and fear.

"I did?" she asks, her voice shaky. "I don't understand what's happening, Tim."

"I don't either," I say, my mind racing. "But I think it's the drone. It's communicating with us somehow."

"Communicating?" Lydia repeats, her eyes fixed on the creature. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know," I say, my voice low. "But it's happening. And we need to figure out what it wants."

The drone hovers in front of us, its tentacles moving in a rhythm that's almost hypnotic. "Why are you here?" I ask, my voice steady.

"We are here to learn," the drone says, its voice echoing in my mind. "We are here to understand."

"Understand what?" Lydia asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

"Everything," the drone says. "We want to understand everything."

I look at Lydia, my mind racing. "What do you mean by everything?" I ask, my voice low.

"Everything," the drone repeats. "The universe, the stars, the planets. We want to understand it all."

"But why?" Lydia asks, her voice filled with wonder.

"Because it is what we do," the drone says. "It is our purpose."

I nod, my mind racing. "And what do you want from us?" I ask, my voice steady.

"We want to learn from you," the drone says. "We want to understand your knowledge, your perspective."

I look at Lydia, my mind racing. "And what do you get out of it?" I ask, my voice low.

"We get to learn," the drone says. "We get to understand."

I nod, my mind racing. "And what do we get out of it?" I ask, my voice steady.

"You get to learn as well," the drone says. "You get to understand."

I look at Lydia, my mind racing. "And how do we do that?" I ask, my voice low.

"We share our knowledge," the drone says. "We share our perspective."

I nod, my mind racing. "And how do we do that?" I ask, my voice steady.

"We show you our math," the drone says. "We show you our physics."

I look at Lydia, my mind racing. "And how do we do that?" I ask, my voice low.

"We show you," the drone says. And then, I start to see things. Equations, formulas, diagrams. They flash in my mind, like a movie playing at high speed. And as I watch, I start to understand. I start to see the connections, the patterns.

"Do you see it?" the drone asks, its voice echoing in my mind.

"Yes," I say, my voice filled with wonder. "I see it."

"And do you understand?" the drone asks, its voice low.

"Yes," I say, my voice steady. "I understand."

"Good," the drone says. "Then let us begin."

* * *

I pick up one of our scholarly books on the concept of relativity and another on string theory, both brimming with intricate equations and concepts that even I find challenging to fully grasp. I pass the drone an old e-book reader, a timeless, lightweight design that's swift and responsive, ideal for presenting text.

As the drone suspends itself in front of me, I observe as its tentacles start to flutter and wriggle at an astonishing speed, so rapid that they're nothing more than a blur. I ponder if its sense of time differs from ours, and as if responding to my unvoiced thought, it admits that it's possible, though it can't be certain.

But there's something more, something that appears to have captured the drone's interest. "Intriguing," it states, its voice resounding in my mind.

"What is it?" I inquire, my interest stirred. "What have you discovered?"

"This," the drone, announces, its voice reverberating in my mind as its tentacles persist in their captivating dance, generating a humming symphony that resounds throughout the room. "This is a game changer. We might be able to control the anti-matter, the very essence of our reality, and perhaps even extend our reach to the far corners of space! The more powerful the mind, the more potent the effect, I suspect."

Its mind goes quiet, the atmosphere around us begins to sizzle with the static electricity produced by the agitated movement of its tentacles. The spectacle brings to mind the hummingbirds I've witnessed in antiquated videos, their wings a blur as they suspended themselves before blossoms, back when the world remained untouched by the devastation of the bombs.

As what seems like hours elapse, the drone carries on with its enthralling light display. Shards of its thoughts start to seep out, audible to an extent, "With this, we might be able to control gravity, energy, even the charge of atoms. I had never even contemplated the existence of a reflective world, one saturated with light and perceiving that as a reflective surface. Your perception is so peculiar. I only detect vibration and waves. Sometimes, these can penetrate walls, navigate the unnavigable. The peculiar thing is, I can see through, but never genuinely see. I can envision, reach inside, given that the magnetic field is potent enough to sense it." It imparts, delving further into its own understanding. "I relish imparting knowledge, and you do too. That is a positive trait." The more it illustrates how it perceives, the more I am convinced it to be a 4th dimensional entity.

"If that's how you perceive, then your physical form must be troublesome?" I ask.

"Quite the contrary," it retorts. "It's what tethers me to the tangible, it's what defines my boundaries. Without the entanglement, I might just be adrift in the ether, the immense emptiness, the great silence of the void. That, to me, would be a living nightmare." I hope that what this creature perceives as a nightmare never intersects with our reality.

"What's your take on our theories about the universe, its existence, or purpose?" I probe, "What do you think we're missing, what have you contemplated?" There seems to be no reply as an even greater build-up of static crackles from tendril to tendril. I speculate that it might manipulate magnetic fields to levitate, or perhaps the 4th dimension is its means of suspension. I ponder, how does it hover?

Little did I realize, that wouldn't be the most baffling question I would grapple with as I continue to wait and observe. Have you ever considered the missing link between celestial bodies and smaller, lower entities? Do you believe we could be living in a simulation?

"There is no chance," the drone's consciousness responds, reacting to my thoughts.

"Can you read my mind?" I muse,

"Apparently so," the drone replies nonchalantly. "Perhaps we're becoming more interconnected getting closer to the Over-mind and I. The one that exists, the one that acts." Now, it seems our minds are so intertwined it can access my thoughts.

I'm not sure how much more of this I can endure. We should take it to Arnold, the head of research and development, the guy with a more extensive knowledge base that Dexter draws from.

"Let's," the drone agrees, its thoughts echoing in my mind. I start to head towards my room, inviting Lydia to join me. we go to sleep for the night. I can only assume, if the drone can read my thoughts, then so can the over-mind he mentioned.