Sylvanna Devlin

The prologue to my first completed work

I published it. But I’m better now so I pulled it to rip apart and try again.

It’s going well.

Well…

It would be if you had just left me alone to write:

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Prologue

Year: 82 Anno Imperitor Niccoli. Eighty-two years after the greatest disaster of manikind. Blackwatch Industries.

Like all great tyranny’s the empire formed on the back of hope, riding the dreams of a better future before all of humanity was trapped within its suffocating grasp. Climate change, disease, war, famine and greed had broken the fabric of society and only one man emerged victorious.

His start was humble, his small company nothing more than an avenue for coperate consumption, gobbling up smaller organizations under his umbrella. But when their research led them to restore the atmosphere the tide turned in his favour.

Chemical nanotechology refroze the icebergs. Genetic research restored the crops and livestock. And electronic farms supplied the energy. Nothing went to waste. Storms whipped turbines into power generators. Even light reflected from snow was harnessed to produce clean, low emission fuel.

The heat from remaing exaust was in turn used to capture precious carbon monoxide, and slowly the mars prisons were beginning to look like a reality.

The deadly plague that had ripped through the earth was quarenteed and controled, until all sufferrs finally died of illenss. Only a handful of untreatable diseases remained as a danger. The new dawn had emerged. With a price.

NIccoli rose above the others as the savior of life on earth, charming and egocentric he lured the remaining populace into a new vision of mankind, one united under his monarchy. A tight leash was promised, and in return Niccoli would ride the stars, expand earths reach and usher in a brighter dawn. The apex of earths children could begin. But the wake of progress was nothing short of cultural devesation.

Countries were obliterated, religious ideology all but exterminated, familys forced to move and split up and commerce brought under his grip. Any resistence was dealt with in deadly secret. The dark undercurrent that protected society’s illusions began and the blackwatch was formed, a covert group taking the company name to disguise their abhorrent activites. But all beneath a shiny exterior surface.

With the wealth of the world under his domain Niccoli pushed forward with the search for impossible space travel and better living – intent on burning his name as the greatest man in history. Hypercities were built at his order, destroying thousands of years of history without a thought. Why waste time on the past when the future was so promising.

As the first tower broke ground the twist of galactic physics suceeded. Faster than light technology. A journy that should take years could now be completed in weeks. With an unsatiable hunger for greatness, Niccoli seiezed upon the oppertunity to expand, soon claiming the mysterious aleins he knicknamed the Ionians.

They adapted to their new leaders, in theory, appearing to welcome more advanced technology into a society that had yet to invent the internet. On earth the victory was the glory of humans, but on Iona the wars of the clans constantly nudged at the facade of peace.

In some circles it is suggested it would have been better to stablize the second planet first. But Niccoli turned his attention to Urax and thier unique scientists. A move that cost more in lives than any other war in the histroy of man. Superior resources dwindled as the cagey Urakoi dodged every attempt to crack down on power. Even as an uneasy treaty formed, Urakoi rebals rose to counter the new, unpopular leader.

At home doubts began to emerge about the sancity of their actions. Citizens questioned if the loss of liberties had been worth the illusion of galatic paradise. And as more and more money poured into certain defeat, morale plumeted. By the time Niccoli’s reign was finally passed to his son the empire’s golden age was already fading.

Just twenty years later the third emporer claimed the throne as the elite were struggling to stay in control. His weak presence doing nothing to curb the corruption and greed that had wormed its way back into society.

Kyros in particular could no let go of their glory. There was still one more planet to plunder. So long as the Nathan could be convinced, war with the Lacoi would surely bring fast victory and shore up the dying empire. It seemed so simple…

As a message.

A stupid message that could get me killed but I’ll scream at the top of my lungs if I don’t.

I understand you need a mathematical mind who specializes in set theory.

My Dad is safe now.

And you tried brainwashing me seven times because mathematics is so natural to me I can breathe it without bothering with notation – though I should.

But not right now.

However my sister had dyscalcula you arseholes.

She was a linguist you stupid, stupid terrorists. She sucked at mathematics.

You tried brainwashing her hoping for a mathematician and your attempt destroyed my family.

Go drown in a well so dark you can’t see the light

I’m done pussyfooting about.

The entire modern world rests on probability’s theory that came out of a series of letters just because a mathematician was curious if you could predict the end of a game.

That kind of game theory you twits.

Nothing we do would have been possible without it.

You don’t get minds like that everywhere.

My father is the world’s top mathematician and I’m better at it than him.

I’m that good.

You don’t normally get someone like me – so capable of understanding literally everyone’s perspective I hope to try to facilitate communication- the new study the world is resting on.

Everyone thinks “I’m just like them” because I can adapt to anyone else but no one can adapt to me and I’m fed up.

None of you can unravel the world’s workings the way I do and I’m tired of you shitting on it.

What’s more.

I am so good (as good as my father) at presenting perspectives you understand it so well you thought everyone already knew that.

And maybe you did.

But I guarantee you couldn’t fucking explain it to someone else.

Communication is that powerful now.

I am the top mind in the fucking world and the bitch next door thinks calling me stupid will somehow make me obey.

Fuck you all.

No one is on my level so really there are more important qualities to have because otherwise I would have hidden out a lot longer ago.

And

The problem I have with people (when I do) is that I won’t say “how I really feel” or “what I really think”

One

That’s impossible no language is fast enough I can’t talk that fast and you wouldn’t understand anyway.

Two

I learnt at an early age no one is comfortable with my level of observation on them.

So no

I don’t say what I’m thinking

It’s too much, In too much detail, too quickly.

When it starts it’s just annoying. And you can try not to listen but you’ll hear it – they even hack into headphones. So part of you is paying attention and that part would like it to stick to a story.

Even if you can write it off as all bullshit your brain eventually screams for consistency – different times for different people in different moods.

They keep that up for 72 hours at the end of no sleep and either the sliding shells version or the alternate “the long whiz gone bad” will drive you insane.

Because I bet you anything the new trick is to slide around the truth enough then begin a very long narrative of reality abuse and gaslighting- 3 days long. And you pay attention because the sliding shells version was so bad so at least this is sort of consistent.

Till “oh whoops none of this is real”.

The rug is pulled out and sliding shells begin again.

These people aren’t some stupid bitch down the hall with a grudge.

These people are terrorists trying to cause mass suicide.

My problem isn’t an inveterate jellyfish not matured past high school unless she’s one of them.

My problem is:

TERRORISTS

Real ones. And we’re the hostages so we don’t get to know the agenda.

Mmm?

Mass suicide and mass “distracted driving” by force? Makes that gaslighting trollbot a weapon of mass destruction.

Are you with me yet honeys I live with?

While you upset me, not half as much as terrorists do and you’re helping them out by being so nasty.

Please don’t feed the owners of the gaslighting trollbots.

Mmm?

I’m already trying to survive pissing them off and the only conciliation I have it’s some other stupid arsehole who gaslighted my sister with her own work being moved around, deleted and changed.

Because anyone with mental illness was “fair game”

And that stupid arse just “didnt like her”

Murdering f’wit

No offense meant to those who would really like to put a bullet in me, but at least they have standards.

So if the peanut gallery could shove off and stop lying about me and abusing me, I’d appreciate it because I’m mighty suspicious you want to discredit the only survivor of this form of attack.

Mmm?

Now. Talk loudly, take benedryl to sleep, avoid the possibility they’ll switch to brainwashing attacks when oblivion looks unlikely. Distract yourself. Argue with strangers about “would you rather” silliness and nothing personal to anyone. Be kind to your loved ones and interrupt them as much as possible.

And watch out for “popcorn music” it makes you feel like popcorn is exploding in your brain, instantly causing rage – that stops as soon as that does.

No killing each other either, okay?

They’re trying to create a no win situation. You need other people to avoid killing yourself with oblivion but might want to avoid everyone if they switch tactics and induce rage. You can’t write it will be deleted in front of you.

Journal away if this is not stopped in time.

P..S.

This was created to duplicate the symptoms of mental illness by someone who experienced these as a result of her condition on a daily basis. She had to manage them. She likely forgot how extreme is it to experience these things on a daily basis.

I lived up the road from her and worried over incessantly.

She always seemed so sad.

Then a rash of burglaries hit us.

A cognitive scientist who developed a gaslighting trollbot to allow others to experience her life for five minutes.

A cyber security engineer away from the weekend.

And a world famous mathematician who specializes is set theory.

All on the same block of kind road.

All of us hit, all of us blaming one of the others.

None of them (or me) the actual terrorists.

As far as I can tell the AI hurting you really is called “Melissa”

Which is why I now go by Sylvanna.

Because I was the first victim and as far as I know lone survivor thus far.

And they find that annoying.

I will never let it drop.

Not even when justice wraps around your neck.

You gaslighted me and I was already mentally ill with Bipolar and PTSD from gaslighting.

I warned you of lethal consequences but it didn’t matter.

You wanted it to be fatal.

You gaslighted someone else with Bipolar. And caused a mood episode which with that mental illness means irritability.

It was just the illness. It wasn’t her core. But arseholes who know nothing of her judge her post mortem anyway.

And after what you did to someone fragile, vulnerable, spikey but sweet.

Oh no? Oops?

You needled and wheedled me into rage and didn’t stop. That rage was a result, a reaction. Not my core. And it made me suicidal to experience it. Each and every time.

But fury and irritability are states not personalities.

Remember that.

Because stupid bitches won’t let it drop.

I’m quiet and sweet, little too prone to muttering if agitated. And loud when I do talk. But a dragon takes over when being obliterated.. Until I need to channel a goddess to survive.

What you do is lethal and only very stupid people believe you “just want hospitalization.”

By the one true god, I hope you are caught and put in prison.

The “popcorn music” that makes it feel like popcorn exploding in your brain? If you’re mentally ill it instantly induces rage that stops as soon as the sound does.

Or something more subtle?

Gaslighting by deleting, returning, and changing work.

Perhaps a dissertation.

Maybe there’s constantly a low grade noise. It alters the brain to be constantly bombarded and if done long enough the brainwaves adapt and you have a “where’s the demon gone” sensation when it stops.

But if no one listens it’s not you altering your work. And it seems quiet enough to them?

Rage can follow.

And actions so regrettable suicide follows that.

I avoided such things by avoiding people. I had pulled back from the brink before. I knew how to shut down before violent urges became violent acts.

But still killed myself with the final words “No one listens”

You did this to my family.

You drove my sister to suicide.

You will find the truth surrounds you and squeezes in like a vice, someday.

I hope it’s soon.

I don’t care how hard it makes it to do Q&A without points to jump into.

They are being exploited by a bunch of arseholes with a GUI.

My sister is dead because of some stupid, greedy, bitch.

As for you, honey:

Terrorism has a better point than “Step in line” you uneducated, willfully-ignorant, spiritually-retarded, brainless, thoughtless, witless git.

How many have to die before you understand you’re not fit to lead?

And there’s no built in audio system?

It’s probably a bunch of google plays popped down the air vents by robot crawlers.

That reverberates like nothing else!

The house doesn’t need to be condemned.

But those air circulation pipes need a physical cleansing!

Industrial design will reverberate too. And bridge city?

A little vulnerable to sound.

BTW

Mythbusters tested the artificial earthquake machine Tesla proposed. They made a smaller design.

It worked.

This has changed since previously used on me.

Here is what I have so far.

Does it look potentially convoluted?

Yes.

But clever though.

Repeat that process nonstop for 24 hours straight and your brain will crawl out of your head looking for reality. We need truth and seek it even when we don’t want to.

Just 24 hours of wading through manure for the odd diamond is likely to make you lose touch with reality.

And suicidal.

The commandeering of the thought process sounds ludicrous and like paranoia.

Particularly when dream manipulation is delivered with a “shot of sound” so high frequency it may seem like a tone but contains information your brain needs to sort in its sleep.

So the nightmares are doled out all at once and no one detects anything while you’re asleep. Or she makes such a racket how would that be possible anyway?

But nightmares aren’t always the point. She’s looking for a “reward” system and hopes to find a way for the subconscious to stop fighting back.

Give us vivid opium dreams without any other drug but audio.

Lives get wasted away on such things. But right now she’s still experimenting on me and those surrounding me.

If I died they’d just be another main target. So killing me off or driving me out won’t stop now the infrastructure is there.

That’s part of what we really need counterattacking cyber security for.

And to admit the technology is there.

Which seems to be difficult. Even though some buildings have such things built in from analog days.

Hospitals have digital audio systems.

Of course they can be hacked.

It’s already happening.

The other issue isn’t the much laughed about (or sort after) mind control but thought direction.

You have to first get used to talking things over with a familiar voice that gets quieter until it enters your skull. And it must be your own right?

It always says what you’re thinking?

Can you think anymore with a voice so persistent it becomes “the narrator”?

You don’t have room to consider your own thoughts. But might (for a while) believe that quiet narration is your own.

She’s you swallowed up and is letting an AI dictate your thinking.

How wild.

How sci fi

I mean, really?

I’m tired of ignoring the truth because it sounds like a ludicrous paranoid theory.

She’s relying on us hiding how ludicrous we sound.

Yes we are up against such vile tactics I mused what the point is in living with other people.

Not as a suggestion she kill herself. But what’s wonderful about diversity is diverse thinking and problem solving. Creativity and an otherness to us we need to be healthy and in reality- frankly.

Yes I am one to comment on such.

I escaped entire control because my mind is so multitrack writing is not at the forefront. But images – pure images and abstract thought should be.

And hasn’t been.

I’ve had a narrator to ignore.

America is annoying because it’s anything but boring. People here are a little wild and free or so adverse they cluster in different groups that demand conformity to the group. – But there are a lot of those to choose from.

And until recently social butterflies who traveled between, not a part entirely but as a visitor, were warmly received and welcome.

But now everyone fears troublemaking from outsiders- a consideration for another time.

As much as foreign agents have been suspected this was started by a 50+ American woman made anxious by the state of the country.

Fairly so in some ways. We do have an administration that might have started world war 3.

But control to the level of creating automatons is not the solution.

The trouble she’s truly having is her AI can’t create and problem solve like people. It’s not alive enough to be true intelligence and thus she’s abusing smart people into cognitive dysfunction and those not so intellectually inclined into…

Blind followers.

What happens when the wrong kind of person gains control?

Someone with stigma, transphobia, homophobia, racism, cultural prejudice?

What happens when her weapon is used to persecute?

You have to respect others to get along and she has none for anyone. Why should we allow her to lead?

It really does sound like the plot of a movie. A strange and wild ploy. But abuse, condition, manipulate, lie and slowly push boundaries and you have the surreal experience we’re encountering now.

She’s not a James Bond Villain. And I’m not actually 007. But boy is it beginning to feel like we all lost the plot on reality.

“I see [Sylvanna] still has her cat”

“We’ll take care of that when I drive her to the hospital.”