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“Welcome home Edward.” The voice of Howard R. Ford appears to him from out of the darkness.
“Then quit acting like one.” Pointing his finger heavily at him. “We needed a genetic host for the experiment to be successful. We needed you!” He pauses, then moves away towards the center of the glass mural window overlooking the city. He continues to speak softly and quietly, almost inaudibly. “Don’t be mistaken, before you, there were others,” He turns back to face his creation. “And before them... At the dawn of I. M. U. C.’s creation, we built computers and experimental prototypes such as the Quantum super computer. Then one day, we created the ultimate super computer, one that can regenerate itself and recreate itself. But at the time we didn’t know,” He stops to smile, speaking in retrospect. “How could we have known? We came across something much better than that. We created one that can manipulate itself. It grew and became more powerful by the nanosecond. It began to devour all the matter that encompassed it, until it had no barriers or limits. It distorted the world around it until it ended with what you see here. It maximized the utilization of infinite space and manipulated it until it has become what I’ve desired. Look around you. This is Eden. Oh, I am God! And you, my robotic friend, are Ophidia’s heir apparent. Now, all which I’ve strived for is complete.” Howard turns to face him then continues. “What’s wrong my friend? You appear ill at eased. Look, it’s not that complicated. Everything is done through nano-technology, you and your body, all of the mechanical symbiots are constructed flawlessly from here...” His right hand is thrown out, casting a sweep through the air around him. He appears to absorb an invisible radiance from the room and basks in its delight. “In a world that I’ve created.” His attention is completely immersed in the thought of his creation, leaving the Host to look blindly around this self proclaimed God’s recreation.
The ongoing isolation between the different departments bred an ignorance. One assumed that the other was responsible for the various responsibilities required in the development of the cyborg. But in fact, it was a carefully calculated endeavor by the computer to maintain that ignorance for that, it was It which was in control of the entire procedure of the conversion. The process took place under the very eyes of the doctors as they operated on the man named Edward Craven. The fact remained, Howard R. Ford had no need for the doctors, but for the organization to remain legal and to maintain the computers anonymity. It required the presence of a full staff of Doctors, Engineers and Technicians. But now that he has successfully done the impossible...
“You see my friend?” The computer’s synthesized voice adds, “I needed to see the world, so that I could better control it. I needed to see everything through your living eyes. I needed you, as you need me.” The voice pauses. “We are one... And the same.”
The Host finds himself standing motionless at the center of the room, no longer listening to the words of this madman who stands before him. His attention is focused on the actions that he feels is the only solution. His head begins to spin at the thought and the horror he must pursue. If he had tears, he would cry. The involuntary action, from the rage of his anger, casts each arm out to his sides, as he looks up to the heavens for confirmation. From his upper biceps and shoulders emerge the metal armor plates and from his back the long metal horns. To his surprise, an added feature appears in the form of thorns along the length of his legs. From the soles of his feet come forth, prongs that drill an anchorage through the floor. From them come two probes adding an extra three feet to the total length. The force now required to move him could only be found from a proton bomb.