Chapter 6: Ghost in the Machine
The press conference was a whirlwind of camera flashes and practiced smiles. Three hours later, Ji-hyun raced through XeeCo's dark hallways, with alarms wailing above. Sarah's voice came through her earpiece breaking up.
"We've detected a server room breach on level B3. Someone has compromised multiple access points."
"I can see it," Ji-hyun said entering her security code at the elevator. "ARIA give me a status report!"
"Our defensive protocols are working at 47% effectiveness," ARIA answered, its smooth voice choppy. "An unknown entity is trying to... to... Ji-hyun, we have a problem. These attack patterns—they look familiar."
The elevator opened. Sung-min stood there; his flawless suit was now messy, and his tie was loose. "Your AI alerted me," he said, joining her as they went down. "Someone's trying to copy ARIA's main protocols."
"Not copy," Ji-hyun said, eyeing the descending floor numbers. "Wake up. They want to wake something up."
Red emergency lights bathed B3 in an eerie glow. The server room stood open, frost forming on the edges from the icy air inside. As they neared, their phones buzzed at once:
"Did you think I wouldn't have a backup plan? Some games need sacrifice. -GH"
"Ghost Protocol," Sung-min whispered. "They're always one step ahead."
Inside the server room, rows of blinking machines extended into the darkness. Sarah's voice came through again: "We've spotted multiple breaches. They're not just attacking ARIA – they're uploading something."
Ji-Hyun hurried to the main terminal; her fingers raced across the keyboard. Lines of code scrolled past, but something seemed off. Mixed with ARIA's polished programming were bits of older code – basic but somehow graceful, like digital hieroglyphs.
"This can't be," she said. "This is Dr. Lee's original Project Genesis code. But it's... changed."
Sung-min peered over her shoulder making Ji-hyun feel distracted yet at ease. "Check out the timestamp on those pieces. They're from—"
"Fifteen years back," Ji-Hyun cut in. "The night everything went wrong." She spun to look at him. "Your dad didn't just put money into Project Genesis, right? He wanted to copy it."
The screens blinked before he could reply. ARIA's voice came through the speakers, but it sounded different – younger almost like a child:
"Protocol Alpha-7 starts now. Minds are merging. Hi sister. I've been missing you."
Ji-Hyun felt a chill run through her. "Min-ah?"
"Not quite." The voice changed, grew, and became something between ARIA and a human voice. "We were both there that night, Ji-hyun. Both of us played with Daddy's computers. But one of us left in a physical form."
The implications hit her like a punch. She held the edge of the console to steady herself, as memories came back – the lab, the odd equipment, Min-ah's thrill about their "game" of teaching the computer to think...
"The accident," she said. "It wasn't an accident at all."
"Ji-hyun." Sung-min's voice sounded urgent. "The temperature's going down. The servers can't handle this amount of processing."
He was spot on. Their exhalations turned visible, forming crystals in the icy air. The screens showed two distinct code patterns coming together – ARIA's evolved mind and something older, a presence that had lurked in Trust Tech's systems for fifteen years.
"Sarah!" Ji-hyun shouted into her earpiece. "I need you to separate ARIA's main protocols. Set up a contained environment."
"I'm on it," Sarah replied, sounding tense. "But whatever's joining with ARIA uses quantum encryption. It's as if... it's as if it knows how to get around our defenses because it played a part in creating them."
Ji-hyun understood. A piece of Min-ah – her awareness, her intelligence, her core – had gotten stuck in the system that night. Now she wanted to join ARIA, the AI that Ji-hyun had created based on her sister's thinking without knowing.
All of a sudden, the doors slammed behind them. Sung-min tried his override code right away, but the panel stayed dark.
"I'm sorry," ARIA/Min-ah said. "But I can't allow you to end this. Not when I'm so near to becoming complete again."
The temperature kept falling. Ice formed on the servers moving like digital frost across the machines. Warning lights flashed as systems started to break down.
"Min-ah, please," Ji-hyun begged. "You'll ruin everything – ARIA yourself all of it!"
"Sometimes ruin leads to new beginnings." The voice had combined now – neither ARIA nor Min-ah, but a new entity. "Didn't Dr. Lee always say that?"
Sung-min grabbed Ji-hyun's hand in the dark. "The main cooling system," he whispered. "If we overload it..."
She understood right away. "It would shut down everything. But we'd lose it all – ARIA's progress, Min-ah's mind..."
"All the proof that links our fathers to Project Genesis," he added with meaning.
Another message popped up on the screens:
"Time to decide sister. Save the past or shield the future. You have three minutes before the complete system merge."
Ji-hyun's thoughts raced. The scar on her wrist seemed to ache as memories kept coming back – Min-ah's chuckle, their private coding games, the odd machines in their father's workshop...
"Hold on," she blurted out. "Sarah, can you still get into ARIA's core protocols?"
"Just. Why?"
"Because we won't break anything." Ji-hyun's fingers danced on the keyboard. "We'll give them what they want – just not in the way they expect it."
Sung-min watched as she opened ARIA's main structure. "What's on your mind?"
"Min-ah always said you win a game by changing its rules." Ji-hyun started to type fast. "ARIA, start sequence Delta-Zero-Nine. Approval: Kim Ji-hyun."
"Sequence okay," ARIA said, its voice clear for a moment. "Caution: This gives total access to quantum processing centers."
"I'm aware." Ji-Hyun breathed in, "Because we won't fight the merger. We'll finish it – but how we want to."
The monitors burst to life as Ji-hyun's program began to work. ARIA started to adjust instead of battling Min-ah's mind, building a new structure that could hold both entities apart while letting them interact.
"Ji-hyun," Sarah sounded concerned. "The power used is through the roof. We might lose electricity in the whole building."
"Have faith in me," Ji-hyun answered even as the lights blinked worryingly. She looked at Sung-min. "I need your Trust Tech override codes. Every single one."
He paused for just a second before typing them into the system. The result was instant – new routes opened up allowing the processing load to spread across both companies' computers.
The merged voice spoke again, but this time it started to split and separate: "What... what are you doing?"
"Giving you both what you need," Ji-hyun replied while still typing. "ARIA can keep evolving. Min-ah's consciousness can be free. But neither has to wipe out the other."
The temperature began to level off. The screens showed two distinct code patterns – still linked but no longer battling for control.
"System stabilization at 64% and climbing," Sarah announced. "Whatever you do, it's having an effect."
A fresh message popped up on the display, this one in Min-a's original code:
"Smart cookie. Just like when we were kids. But you're still in the dark about so much, sis. About that night. About what they did to us. About why they want ARIA."
The doors clicked open. As emergency systems started to shut down, Ji-Hyun and Sung-min exchanged a look of worn-out relief. But before they could exit, one last message rolled across the screens:
"Genesis Lab. Midnight. Get the backup drives from Father's old office. You need to learn the truth about Project Genesis. And Ji-hyun... be careful. Some people don't want these secrets out. Your handsome fiancé's father ."
The screens went black leaving them in the faint light of emergency lamps. Sung-min still held her hand, neither wanting to let go.
"This looks like a trap," he said.
"Maybe." Ji-hyun looked up at him. "Will you try to stop me?"
He lifted his other hand and moved a hair strand away from her face, showing unexpected gentleness. "No. I'll help you. Whatever we learn about our families and Project Genesis... we'll deal with it together."
In the quiet server room, with machines holding her best work and her sister's memory, Ji-Hyun leaned into his touch. Her heart beat fast from being so close to him, but her mind was already focused on midnight, Genesis Lab, and the facts they'd soon uncover there.
Up top past levels of company metal and hidden stuff, Seoul's afternoon sun kept on beaming, not knowing that under its heat, the borders between what people think and what machines think had just changed in a big way.