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LOCATION: VOSS TOWER, 20TH FLOOR
CITY: SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
DATE: JUNE 16, 2025 | TIME: 4:00 PM
Elliot Voss stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back as the sun dipped began its decent beyond the San Francisco skyline. Eight hours had passed since he and Mallory first sat down that morning, and the emotional weight of the day pressed in like a storm front.
At eighty-two, Voss remained remarkably steady—sustained by decades of discipline and purpose. But across the room, Mallory looked utterly spent.
He turned from the window, his voice gentler now.
“Listen, I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry to unload it all at once.”
He took a step toward her.
“But the truth is, I can’t do this alone anymore. We’re at the inflection point.
Once the first bottle of Vitalyx hits the shelves, we’re on the clock.
Every move after that has to be executed with surgical precision.”
Mallory rose, stretching her legs and arms, shaking off the physical tension. She took a long pull from her water bottle and met his gaze.
“Of course. You have my full attention, Mr. Voss. This is… the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard. I’m with you.”
Voss nodded, a flicker of relief passing through his expression.
“Good. Because this is where it all starts to feel very real.”
He stepped behind his desk and tapped a button on the console.
The LED screen lit up again—glowing with pulsing neural maps, shifting and alive with internal light.
“The nanobots—well, technically, they’re not quite that,” he began.
Mallory tilted her head. “Not nanobots?”
“Not in the classic sci-fi sense,” Voss said. “They’re synthetic bio-constructs. Programmable molecular agents—biologically compatible, adaptive, elegant. But for simplicity? Yeah. Let’s keep calling them nanobots. Nanoscale. Semi-autonomous. Close enough to fiction to be terrifying.”
Mallory gave a short, breathy laugh.
“Yeah. Terrifying sounds about right.”
“Don’t worry,” Voss said with a grin. “They’re not here to take over the world. They’re here to help us rebuild it.”
He gestured toward a new rendering—an anatomical cross-section of the human head.
Tiny pulses of blue light flickered as they moved toward the optic nerves.
“As I said, once Vitalyx completes its internal sweep, the bio-constructs shift to the optic nerves. They begin constructing a microscopic scaffold—layer by layer. Filament-thin. Transparent.
The ultimate result is an internal heads-up display, keyed to the user’s cognition.
Think fighter pilot helmet… except you’re the cockpit.”
Mallory studied the image on the screen, transfixed.
“How long does that take?”
“Two to three days. It’s painless, noninvasive.
Undetectable unless you’re looking with extreme resolution.
Even an MRI wouldn’t catch it—not unless you knew exactly where to look.”
He turned back toward her, his voice lower now.
“Rejuvenex triggers the second phase. Its constructs migrate deeper—prefrontal cortex, occipital lobe, cerebellum. They use metabolic byproducts—nothing invasive—to build the final layers of the neural bridge.”
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Mallory raised an eyebrow.
“So… they’re not consuming brain matter for this construction?”
Voss chuckled.
“No. They’re resourceful, not cannibalistic. Elegant, right?”
She smirked.
“Elegant, sure. Still creepy.”
“Ahem…” Voss cleared his throat, chuckling at her deadpan delivery. “That’s—fair.”
Then he grew serious again.
“Once both networks are complete, they go dormant. Awaiting the signal.”
Mallory leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees.
“And what triggers this signal?”
Voss lit up, practically vibrating with contained excitement.
“That’s the next step. Once a critical mass of the global population—say around 75%—has taken both Vitalyx and Rejuvenex, we activate The System.
That night—across the world—one hour after each person falls asleep, the interface comes online.”
He smiled, eyes gleaming.
“They go to bed as civilians... and wake up on the precipice of something so much more.”
Mallory’s brow furrowed.
“You’re not flipping the switch all at once?”
Voss shook his head.
“Too dangerous. Imagine triggering it for a pilot mid-flight. Or a surgeon in the middle of an operation. No—it's a rolling activation, tied to the individual's circadian rhythm.
The Interface monitors their biometrics in real time. When they enter REM sleep, it connects to The System and initiates. Seamless. Personal.”
Mallory nodded slowly, processing—stifling a yawn halfway through.
“Smart. Safer.”
She blinked a few times, trying to shake the heaviness pressing behind her eyes.
Voss could see it—Mallory was nearing the limits of her focus. Her composure held, but her eyes had begun to glaze.
“Alright,” he said gently, “that’s enough for today. You’ll learn more in detail as we move forward.
And as much as I’d love to give you the rest of the day to process all of this...” He gave a wry smile, sweeping his arms out to either side. “I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before you get to rest.”
Turning back to his desk, he continued.
“I’m sending you a list of the Chief Executives across my sixty-four companies. I need them here in San Francisco by Thursday. Meeting in the auditorium starts at noon—sharp. As you can see, we have a lot to cover.”
Mallory’s eyebrows rose sharply.
“Sir, that’s only three days away. These are high-powered executives with—”
Voss cut her off, his tone firming like steel cooled in water.
“There will be no exceptions. Attendance is mandatory. Anyone who refuses or hesitates will be removed. No appeals. No explanations. If I don’t have their confirmation by tomorrow morning, I’ll expect their resignation—and the Chairman of the company in question will appoint a replacement immediately—who will show up Thursday as ordered.”
He met her gaze without blinking.
“We don’t have time for ego or excuses. I rarely issue commands, Mallory.
But when I do, I expect them to be followed—unquestioningly.
Feel free to make that very clear when you call them tonight.”
Mallory straightened instinctively, her voice crisp despite the fatigue behind her eyes.
“Understood, Mr. Voss. I’ll draft the meeting orders and start making calls on my way home.”
“Good. Also,” he added, pausing just long enough to re-center her attention, “I need a new NDA for all of them. The most comprehensive, ironclad document you can conceive. Now that you know what’s at stake, you understand the need for secrecy.”
He paused again.
“Make it clear: this is the deepest secret they’ll ever know. If they can’t handle that, they can walk. Quietly. We’ll give them a year’s salary. No hard feelings. It’s not like money—as we know it – will mean anything after The System comes online.”
Mallory nodded as she packed her notebook and slipped her tablet into her bag.
“I already have something in mind—mostly written. I’ll get the draft to you tonight.”
Voss shook his head, his voice softening.
“There’s no need. I trust you. When you send the NDA, don’t mention Thursday’s meeting.
Every piece of information from here on out must be curated, compartmentalized, and deployed with precision.”
He paused, just long enough to look her in the eye.
“You understand.”
She nodded again, more slowly this time.
“Completely.”
Voss gave a final smile.
“Thank you, Mallory. This was a long day—but a pivotal one. And the work is just beginning.
Imagine what we’re about to accomplish. History has been waiting for this moment…
Even if no one knows it.”
She stood, smoothed her blouse, and slung her bag over one shoulder.
With a final nod, she stepped toward the door.
The glass hissed shut softly behind her.
Voss turned back to his desk—just as his phone buzzed.
A message flashed across the screen.
From: Graham Thorne
Subject: Urgent. Need to talk.
Voss narrowed his eyes.
“Well, that can’t be good,” Voss muttered as he texted Graham to let him know he could come in any time.
Voss narrowed his eyes. Graham Thorne was calm under missile fire. For him to call something “urgent”? That was basically nuclear.