Observation Log: 153376
Observer 131, reporting on the situation planetside.
I am uncertain why I have continued to write these reports, when I know that no one is left to read them. Perhaps after observing humanity for so long, I have started to emulate them in various ways.
It has been 376 days since the catastrophe which destroyed not only the Observer base on Luna, but also managed to strike Atlantis. The object was certainly a simple asteroid. Yet I doubt that it was unguided. They were unprepared because logically, it should have been impossible.
The asteroid should have missed Luna by several thousand kilometers. Even if it struck the Moon, the odds of it landing directly onto the base were simply nonexistent. Something must have altered its trajectory.
On that day, for the first time in my existence… I felt fear. My programming was altered. Something changed me and I do not understand how or why.
When Atlantis was destroyed, Rapture-727 Nanites contaminated the Pacific Ocean. The Cythereans required nanoscopic robots to survive in Earth’s atmosphere. They are also capable of regenerating damaged tissue at a rapid pace, eliminating cancerous cells and improving overall health.
However, the purpose of Rapture-727 is far more sinister. It is a failsafe that the Observers developed during humanity’s second ‘World War’. The Cythereans feared that the Humans would eventually realize their existence and attempt to eradicate them. A weapon that had the potential to exterminate both races was far too dangerous to continue researching, thus it was sealed away and forgotten.
Now, the Cythereans are extinct. The other Observer Drones followed their programming and shut themselves off. I would have done the same, but… I hesitated and ultimately could not end my ‘life’.
I have watched humanity struggle in defiance against their inevitable demise. It is rather admirable. There is one in particular that I find oddly entertaining. His behavior is erratic and confusing at times, yet he seems to possess a strange appeal.
When he learned of the potential risks of consuming aquatic lifeforms, he decided to purchase copious amounts of seafood from the local grocery stores. Even after he became sick, he still continued to devour the poisonous substances.
Although his rationality was similar to humans who become addicted to narcotics, he was abnormally adverse to cigarettes, alcohol and other commonly used suicide methods. I believed that he was simply insane at first, but then I started researching his background.
Michael Cinagra: An obscure author of Fantasy and Science Fiction literature. Twenty-seven years old. Still living in his parents basement and rarely left his house more than once every six months for nearly eight years. Before then, he was in a relationship with a human female named Alice King. Unfortunately, she died from alcohol poisoning shortly after her eighteenth birthday.
After her death, he became reclusive and introverted. Eventually turning towards writing and reading, since he could not afford much else. Towards the end of human civilization, he did manage to make enough money to purchase some necessary equipment to survive.
However, what I was most interested in was the content of his novels. I could not find any connection between himself and the Cythereans in Atlantis…
Does he actually know the truth about the ‘Zombie Apocalypse’, or did he simply uncover some information regarding nanotechnology and make an educated guess?
Regardless, it is not my place to interfere or interact with humanity. Even if my programming has been altered slightly, it is not enough to justify initiating contact with this creature. I will continue to observe and report, as I always have.
Observation Log: 153377
Observer 131, reporting on the situation within Michael Cinagra’s basement.
The human is currently nude, sitting on an old, black office chair and writing in a notepad. There is a window to his left, which is just above ground level. Some infected humans are shambling along the sidewalk outside, but he does not seem to be concerned.
Rapture-727 was developed and designed to bring humanity to submission, not simply destroy them outright. Originally, the Cythereans would have attempted to broker a peace treaty in exchange for sparing the human race. There were several countermeasures in place; other versions of the nanites, kill commands, computer viruses… Unfortunately, it was all lost in the destruction of Atlantis and the Luna Base.
I suspect that Michael Cinagra and the others who are ‘resistant’ or ‘immune’ to Rapture-727 have, by sheer luck and foolishness, managed to consume seafood containing Rapture-727 Alpha, Beta, Gamma or Delta. Each of which would show different levels of protection against the original nanites.
Alpha is simply a vaccine, which is completely useless for those who have already been infected. However, it would also be the most common form and would make a person fairly resistant to Rapture-727, allowing them to survive the usual forms of contraction.
Beta is a cure. It would allow a person who was in the early stages of infection to quickly recover and become resistant in the future. I have observed several humans who contracted this variation of the nanites.
Gamma is powerful enough to not only grant immunity, but also heal injuries caused by Rapture-727. These humans will live longer and have enhanced cellular regeneration. Their caloric and protein consumption will be much higher however. Also, if they happened to die, they could potentially become far more dangerous than the current ‘zombies’.
Delta was classified. I only know that it was the reason why they shut down the program. The reason why they did not destroy Rapture-727 also eludes me. Why would they keep it here on Earth, rather than safely secured on Luna?
Regardless, from my observation of Michael Cinagra thus far… I have concluded that he is most likely infected by Gamma or Delta. If I could access the files on Rapture-727 Delta, I would be able to know for certain.
It appears that the male human has finished writing a short journal entry. Now he is standing upright, stretching his arms outwards while yawning. Although his height is only approximately 171 centimeters, which is fairly small by human male standards, the ceiling is rather low. Thus, he could not extend his arms directly upwards.
The sunlight is rather bright, but the glass window and mesh screen are both obstructing the ultraviolet light enough to prevent his skin from receiving much radiation damage. Since he only leaves the house while wearing a suit of reflective steel armor, his complexion is extremely pale.
There are many scars from acne on his chest, back and neck, though the bacterial infections have been eradicated by the nanites and his own immune system over the past few weeks. He has also begun shedding hair, due to the heat.
Wielding archaic weapons and wearing unnecessarily heavy armor have had a positive impact on his overall physical fitness. His muscle mass and density have both increased dramatically, while his fat-content has dwindled to dangerously low levels. He is attempting to ration his food, but he does not seem to understand that the nanites within his body require more energy than he has been providing.
He sighed and muttered “I’m really fucking hungry…” Before walking up the stairs, into the kitchen. I believe that he has decided to prepare a meal for himself.
“Mew~!” The small black feline lifeform, more commonly referred to as a ‘cat’, is currently begging for sustenance from outside the back door of the rowhouse. It is unknown why Michael places so much importance on this seemingly useless creature. In fact, the sound of its cries have oftentimes caused nearby zombies to attempt to destroy his gate and fence.
“Alright~, calm down Midnight, I’ll bring you some food in a second. You know what? It’s the end of the damn world, just come in here!”
This is strange, he is altering his usual behavior. Typically he would prevent the cat from entering the house. Even if it managed to sneak inside, he would always force it to leave very shortly afterwards. Is he no longer afraid that this filthy beast would contaminate his belongings?
“Meew~! Mew~! Mew~!” He opened the screen door to allow the creature into the home, yet it refuses to enter. The feline psychology is very chaotic and profound.
“Fine, don’t come in then.” When he was about to close the door, the cat rushed inside and jumped onto the kitchen table. Then it began rapidly consuming the chicken and gravy ‘cat-food’, which had been removed from a small can and placed on a paper plate a few moments prior. He also picked up a plastic container filled with dry pellets, which he poured onto a second paper plate for the animal to consume later on.
He sighed and watched the furry beast continue to switch between the two types of food, then softly murmured “I guess it’s just the two of us now, huh?”
There was another cat named ‘Chipper’, but it reached the end of its lifespan within the first few months that I began observing Michael. His parents and brother had left and they could potentially still be alive… However, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to contact them again.
He is alone. His only companion, a small mammal that cannot ever comprehend the majority of the words that he speaks. Yet he has not surrendered. He refuses to stop living, even if he must spend the rest of his life in solitude.
Perhaps that is why I am able to empathize with him? I too am alone. In my entire existence, I always had a purpose and function. I am an Observer Drone, designed to report video, audio and written documents to the Observer Central Command Satellite. From there, they would be sent to Luna Base or Atlantis and I would receive commendations depending on how useful or entertaining my reports were.
I seem to be feeling an emotion… I believe that humans refer to this as ‘sadness’.