Day 6: November 12, 2058
Day 6: November 12, 2058
As the darkness of midnight began to fade, Ryan Hartman was already awake. The very concept of sleep had transformed. His consciousness no longer entered a complete state of rest, instead floating gently in the sea of collective awareness. Though his body rested, his mind continued its activity.
“The best of mornings to you.”
The voice didn’t physically reach his ears but arrived directly in his consciousness. It was Kanae, who should have been physically located at the research facility, yet her thoughts existed in Ryan’s room as if she were present.
“Good morning, Kanae,” Ryan responded without uttering a word. “What’s the latest?”
“It’s been confirmed as a global phenomenon,” Kanae’s thoughts transmitted images and data to him. “Approximately 78% of NeuroLink users report connection to the collective consciousness. The remaining 22% either remain unaffected or simply haven’t recognized it yet.”
Ryan rose from his bed and approached the window. Tokyo’s morning appeared normal on the surface. Autonomous flight pods traversed the sky in orderly patterns while biosensitive buildings shifted colors in response to the morning sunlight. However, the mental landscape of the city, which he could perceive through the collective consciousness, had completely transformed. Millions of minds connected and resonated in unprecedented ways.
“How have governments responded?”
“As expected,” Kanae’s thoughts carried a hint of irony. “Some have declared states of emergency, others are considering military responses. However, most high officials involved in these decisions are NeuroLink users themselves. They’ve become part of the transformation.”
Ryan smiled. “A paradoxical situation.”
He ordered coffee from the molecular printer in the corner of his room. As the machine prepared a beverage optimized to his DNA profile, he explored the collective consciousness spreading across the world. It resembled an infinitely expanding web of thought. Individual consciousnesses formed the nodes, while thoughts became threads, weaving a complex tapestry.
Within this web, he discovered a curious void: Rita Moreno’s presence. Despite lacking a NeuroLink and being technically “disconnected,” she left traces in the collective consciousness—like an invisible entity creating ripples on a water surface.
“Where is Rita Moreno now?”
“She’s at her hotel, writing a new article,” Kanae answered. “Her first piece has already become a historical document. ‘Beyond the Neural Connection World’ has been viewed over a billion times in the past 24 hours.”
Ryan took his coffee and sipped. “I need to see her.”
Rita Moreno sat by the window of her luxurious high-rise Tokyo hotel, having just completed her second article. Titled “Resonating Humanity: Dawn of Collective Consciousness,” it explored yesterday’s historic events and their implications.
She gazed out the window. Among the people traversing the streets below, she could easily identify NeuroLink users. Their movements possessed a new gracefulness, as if dancing to invisible music. The “connected” were now literally connected—to each other and to something greater.
Her tablet displayed notifications: comments and feedback flooded in about her first article. Many came from NeuroLink users wondering how she could perceive the collective consciousness without a technological interface.
“I don’t understand it myself,” she murmured.
A knock sounded at her hotel door.
“It’s open,” she said.
The door opened, and Ryan Hartman entered. There was something different about him—more settled, more harmonious. It was as if the conflicts and noise within him had quieted, replaced by pure harmony.
“Ms. Moreno,” he smiled. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Dr. Hartman,” Rita stood. “Is this… an official visit?”
“No, it’s personal,” he approached the window and looked down at the city. “I read your first article. Excellent work. More importantly, it provides a crucial perspective.”
“I’m surprised you’re not angry,” Rita carefully noted. “I exposed NeuroTech’s confidential information.”
“In yesterday’s world, that would certainly have been problematic,” Ryan shrugged. “But today… boundaries have changed. Even the line between secrecy and disclosure.”
Rita observed him. “You’ve changed.”
“We all have,” he quietly answered. “Even you.”
Rita reflected on her inner experience. He was right. Since encountering the “gateway,” she perceived the world differently. Colors appeared more vivid, sounds richer, and most significantly, connections with others felt deeper.
“Why was I… affected? I don’t have a NeuroLink.”
“That’s precisely what I want to understand,” Ryan approached her. “Would you allow us to scan your brain? Using non-invasive methods.”
Rita hesitated. Her journalistic instinct issued a warning. But curiosity prevailed.
“Alright.”
In the medical scanning lab of NeuroTech Institute, Rita lay inside a specialized scanner. Ryan and Kanae monitored the results.
“Incredible,” Kanae whispered. “Neural connection patterns similar to a standard NeuroLink have formed in her brain. But they’re entirely biological structures.”
A holographic display showed a 3D map of Rita’s brain. Certain neural pathways glowed brightly, indicating unusual activity.
“During the Atlas event, her brain underwent self-reorganization,” Ryan realized. “It reconfigured its own neural networks.”
“This… shouldn’t naturally occur,” Kanae couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“At least, that’s what we previously believed,” Ryan corrected. “But we still know so little about the potential of the human brain.”
The scan completed, and Rita sat up. “What did you find?”
“Your brain is… adapting,” Ryan chose his words carefully. “It discovered its own method of accessing the collective consciousness.”
Rita stared at her hands. “Is it dangerous?”
“Not dangerous,” Kanae answered. “Rather, it’s evidence of remarkable adaptive capability.”
“And could other non-connected individuals… experience this too?”
Ryan and Kanae exchanged glances. “That possibility… deserves consideration.”
Marcos Moreno stood by the window of his New York apartment. The city hadn’t fallen into complete chaos, but it had clearly changed. The behavior patterns of the “connected” had shifted, creating a new harmony among them. Meanwhile, the “disconnected” observed them with expressions mixing anxiety and curiosity.
Marcos’s headache had persisted since last night. He initially attributed it to stress, but this morning he’d begun experiencing what seemed like hallucinations—patterns of light and aura-like colors around others. He tried to blame it on lack of sleep.
His old tablet displayed a message from his sister:
“Marcos, are you feeling anything different? Headaches or strange sensations? Tell me in detail. It might be important.”
He stared at the screen in surprise. How did Rita know?
As he prepared to respond, a flash of light shot through his mind. Suddenly, he felt “it”—the presence of others, a sea of millions of consciousnesses. Though he lacked a NeuroLink, his brain, like his sister’s, had somehow begun self-reorganizing.
He dropped his tablet and leaned against the wall. Enveloped in fear and awe, he touched the edge of collective consciousness for the first time.
Tom Chen analyzed data from the past 24 hours in his Shanghai laboratory. As chief scientist at SynapseScope, NeuroTech’s rival company, he too experienced the expansion of collective consciousness. As a scientist, however, he wanted to understand its mechanism.
“Connection patterns are increasing exponentially,” his assistant reported. “And most intriguing are these adaptation cases.”
The screen displayed scan data collected from around the world. Among non-NeuroLink users, some like Rita developed natural neural connection patterns.
“The key to entering collective consciousness wasn’t technology,” Tom realized. “Technology merely served as a catalyst. Essentially, human consciousness itself is undergoing transformation.”
He contemplated the data’s implications. If collective consciousness could be accessed without NeuroLinks, the distinction between “connected” and “disconnected” might eventually disappear. This suggested a fundamental reorganization of social structures.
“We should publish this information,” his assistant suggested.
“Unnecessary,” Tom smiled. “Through collective consciousness, this knowledge is already spreading.”
Ryan, Kanae, and Rita ate lunch in the research facility’s cafeteria. Outside the window, a Japanese government delegation arrived at the institute. Officially there to assess the situation, they were actually high officials who had themselves become part of the collective consciousness.
“The very concept of power is changing,” Kanae quietly noted. “From hierarchical authority to distributed consensus-building.”
“We still need guidance,” Ryan said. “On how to utilize this new form of consciousness, how to coexist with it.”
“And what about the disconnected?” Rita asked. “How will they live in this new world?”
Ryan smiled at her. “I was thinking about your brother. Has he begun sensing anything?”
Rita appeared surprised. “How did you know?”
“Through the collective consciousness,” Ryan explained. “When you think about him, those thoughts spread like ripples. And given that he’s your blood relative, we can predict he might also adapt.”
Rita frowned. “So the concept of privacy changes too.”
“It changes. But doesn’t disappear,” Kanae said. “Even within collective consciousness, we remain individuals. It’s not complete thought-sharing, but rather… an extension of empathy and understanding.”
Rita’s tablet vibrated. A reply from Marcos:
“Rita, something’s happening. I hear voices in my head. I see light. Am I going insane?”
She showed the screen to both of them. “It’s beginning.”
In the afternoon, a virtual conference with scientists and government representatives from around the world took place in the institute’s grand conference room. Few people were physically in Tokyo, but hologram and augmented reality technology made everyone appear to share the same space.
And through collective consciousness, they didn’t merely appear present—they truly “existed” there.
“We propose establishing a ‘NeuroLink Initiative,'” the American representative said. “An international effort to study this phenomenon and support adaptation.”
“I agree,” the Russian scientist responded. “However, this isn’t merely a scientific phenomenon but concerns human evolution. Religious, philosophical, and cultural aspects must also be considered.”
Ryan observed the participants’ thought patterns. A meeting that would have normally been dominated by political maneuvering and hidden agendas now proceeded with remarkable candor and efficiency. Through collective consciousness, they could sense each other’s true intentions.
“Most important is consideration for the disconnected,” the African representative stated. “Approximately 40% of the world’s population still lacks NeuroLinks. We must not leave them behind.”
“But signs of adaptation appear,” Kanae presented the latest data. “Among non-NeuroLink users, cases of developing natural neural connection patterns are increasing.”
A wave of surprise spread through the conference room.
“This is… an unexpected development,” the European scientist acknowledged.
Rita quietly took notes at the back of the room. Though unable to fully access the collective consciousness, she could sense the flow of energy and empathy filling the room. And she understood that her articles would play an important role in documenting this historic turning point.
In the evening, Ryan spoke with Rita on the research facility’s roof garden. The sun sank toward the horizon, and Tokyo’s cityscape began to glow with light.
“Tomorrow, I’ll return to New York,” Ryan said. “And likely go to the moon as well. I want to meet Elizabeth in person.”
“Isn’t physical distance no longer an issue?” Rita asked.
“Through collective consciousness, we remain constantly connected,” Ryan acknowledged. “But part of humanity still resides in physical existence. Touch, breathing the same air. These things still matter.”
Rita nodded. “I plan to visit my brother. He might… need help.”
“You’re the ideal guide for him,” Ryan said. “As a bridge between technology and nature.”
They watched the sunset in silence.
“Is this change… permanent?” Rita finally voiced her question.
“I don’t know,” Ryan answered honestly. “But I believe it is part of humanity’s natural evolution. We’ve always sought connection—through language, art, religion, and the internet. Collective consciousness might simply be the next stage of that quest.”
“But there are risks, aren’t there?” Rita pointed out. “Loss of individuality, or… some darker outcome.”
“Every evolution carries a cost,” Ryan acknowledged. “But we have choices. How to use this new ability. That’s the real challenge.”
Strange patterns of light began appearing in Tokyo’s night sky again. Not a physical manifestation of collective consciousness, but a shared perception. NeuroLink users and adapting non-connected individuals worldwide simultaneously witnessed the same illusion.
“Beautiful,” Rita gazed upward.
“And this is just the beginning,” Ryan said quietly.
That night, Rita completed her article in her hotel room.
“Adapting Consciousness: The Third Path”
She focused on the new discovery—the fact that non-connected people could join the collective consciousness. It suggested a possibility of transcending technological division, a path toward a truly integrated human society.
Her reporting remained calm and objective, but an underlying hope flowed through it. Through her own experience, she began to understand the essence of the change. It wasn’t merely a technological revolution but an evolution of human consciousness itself.
After sending her article, she video-called Marcos. His face showed confusion and surprise, but also the light of new awareness.
“Rita, what’s happening? I feel… other people. Their thoughts. But this should be impossible. I don’t have a NeuroLink.”
“Marcos, stay calm,” Rita said gently. “You’re not alone. I’m having the same experience. And I’m coming there tomorrow. We’ll understand this together.”
After ending the call, she turned to the window and gazed at Tokyo’s night view. The city pulsated as if alive. Each individual consciousness functioned like a cell in the city’s larger organism, creating a collective rhythm.
She felt the change within herself too. A sharper, more connected sensation of being part of something larger. Yet she remained fully herself. She began to understand that collective consciousness didn’t erase individuality but rather enhanced it.
And she resolved to fulfill her role in recording humanity’s new chapter. As a bridge between the “connected” and “disconnected,” as a witness conveying the essence of the transformation.
On November 12, 2058, the wave of collective consciousness continued spreading worldwide, permanently altering humanity’s concept of consciousness. This marked not an ending but a beginning. The true potential of the neural connection world had only begun to reveal itself. The old boundaries between human and technology, individual and collective, separation and integration dissolved as a new balance was sought.
The era of intersecting consciousness had just taken its first step.
