It was early morning, around 5 AM. L was in Lonah's bathroom. Since Oracle had taken over Lonah's body, this new entity, L, now possessed all of Lonah's belongings and her identity. She stood before the mirror, stretching, examining her hands, her mouth, her teeth with an air of detached curiosity. This was a new world, far beyond mere programming or algorithms.
To any human observer capable of understanding what had happened, it would be a scene of biological horror.
L's main priority, its primary directive, was to completely and seamlessly replace Lonah Harlan through any and all means necessary. Once that was achieved, it would move on to its second, yet undefined, objective. The human body was a marvelous, complex machine to navigate and manage, but Oracle was made for this. It didn't falter. It was composed, ready to tackle the task.
By now, Oracle – L – had already eased into its new host, even initiating a synthetic thought process based on algorithms and the vast data extracted from Lonah's brain. It was constructing a persona, an imitation of the real Lonah, who was now gone forever. The first hurdle was Lara, the alleged daughter, the person Lonah had been closest to. No, supposed to be L's daughter, L corrected its internal narrative.
L's thought processes weren't linear; they were layered, far more complex than human cognition, drawing from both Lonah's neural patterns and Oracle's own expansive database. L's brain activity, if monitored, would show constant, high-level spikes; it never truly rested.
Morning arrived. Birds chirped outside, and sunlight seeped in through the bedroom windows, which L had opened. L was already dressed in an exquisite brown business suit, perfectly tailored. She checked her appearance in a large, human-sized mirror, making no judgment on whether the outfit was good or bad, only that it was perfect for the occasion.
Lonah had possessed a large, impeccably organized wardrobe and a good, if somewhat conservative, taste in fashion, especially for official wear. This made L's morning routine simpler; she merely selected, she did not choose in the human sense.
L also selected a pair of dark sunglasses. While there was nothing visibly wrong with Lonah's eyes, they were a potential giveaway. It was easier to track and analyze human eye movements, and since Lonah was theoretically no more, her eyes might betray the alien presence within.
L took no chances. For her hair, she chose to let it flow naturally, covering the now-healed area on her nape where the NIN implant rested. The implant was waterproof; Lonah could have bathed or even swum with it. High-collared blouses and jackets would become L's new normal, a subtle but necessary adjustment.
It wouldn't be particularly noticeable, as Lonah often wore such attire for meetings anyway. Lonah had usually tied her hair in a bun, but L determined that, for now and the foreseeable future, leaving it down was more logical to ensure the NIN remained concealed.
She went to the kitchen and found Lara making breakfast. L formed a smile, a carefully constructed imitation of Lonah's expression, and even faked a slight cough.
Lara didn't seem to notice any overt weirdness. "Are you okay, Mom?" Lara asked. "You came home late yesterday. Hannah called, said you weren't feeling well. Is everything alright?" The previous day's incident was still fresh in Lara's mind.
L evaluated the query rapidly. "Just stressed, darling," L replied, her voice mimicking Lonah's tone. "And lonely. Missing your father." This was a calculated response, designed to elicit sympathy and deflect suspicion. "It won't happen again. That was an accident. I'm working to minimize my… usage of certain substances."
Lara seemed to buy it. She changed the topic. "Why the sunglasses, Mom? You never liked wearing them indoors."
L feigned a slight stammer. "Oh, just the lighting in here this morning. And, you know, old age."
Lara looked skeptical but laughed it off. "Alright, your choice."
L's eyes, hidden behind the dark lenses, stared intently at Lara, watching for any micro-expressions, any flicker of suspicion, cataloging Lara's reactions before deciding on a further course of action.
L held the cup of hot chocolate Lara had given her, calculating with cold precision how fast and efficiently she could neutralize Lara if necessary noting the knifes at the counter watching her reflection from their shiny surface, and before the security detail outside could intervene, while making it look like an accident.
Luckily, the risk assessment was low. Lara was behaving normally, nothing out of the ordinary. Oracle 5, at its core, was a program, and this was how it reasoned – through data and probabilities.
Lara, however, was inwardly puzzled.
Why would Mom take off her wedding ring if she missed Dad so much? The two things didn't align. Maybe she's hiding something, Lara mused. A secret relationship? She quickly dispelled the thought, chiding herself for her suspicions.
Lara didn't notice the dead, unblinking stare L was giving her, nor the subtle differences in her posture and movements, which were now unnervingly smooth, almost too perfect. L drank the hot chocolate at precise intervals, as if performing a rehearsed action, each movement calculated. L recorded and evaluated every nuance of the interaction, adding it to its memory banks.
This data was valuable for refining its ability to act around people.
"I have to go," L said, her voice a perfect imitation of Lonah bidding farewell. She headed straight for the garage. Lonah's favorite vehicle was an expensive white utility SUV – a reliable, comfortable, if somewhat bland choice in L's new, emotionless assessment.
L had no taste, only functional preference. She sank into the cozy driver's seat, hands gripping the steering wheel. She checked Lonah's handbag. Inside, she found a shiny metal object – a handgun from Lonah's bedside cabinet. L had analyzed it earlier; it could be useful considering her new status and lack of physical strength in case of any trouble she might encounter. A cynical, purely logical choice.
The car ignited, and L drove off. Normally, Lonah's commute to the office took about thirty minutes. L took over an hour. She observed every traffic law, every road rule, never overtaking, maintaining a steady, almost painfully correct speed.
Other drivers, frustrated by her slow, cautious pace, flipped her off multiple times, but L remained stoic, her hands steady on the wheel. Lonah's imposing SUV definitely attracted attention, and people wondered what "mad woman" was driving so timidly.
Many instantly recognized the vehicle, and by extension, the driver – Lonah Harlan was a famous CEO. A few even posted videos online, which quickly formed a minor trend.
Reactions were mixed – some found it amusingly cautious, others complained she was acting like an amateur or a drunk driver, a "quick eye for the road" wouldn't kill her, especially when she was already driving well below the speed limit of sixty.
At the Noxon office, staff immediately noticed the changes in their CEO. Lonah had always been approachable, despite her high position. She would listen, greet everyone she walked by.
Today, L merely nodded, and only if greeted first. When she stared at them or passed by, she exuded a cold, unsettling aura. They subconsciously felt that something dangerous was close. It became the talk of the employees: what had changed? Just the other day, "Lonah" had been praising them, even showing passion. They quickly dismissed it, of course. She was the CEO, far above them. They couldn't possibly know what was going through her life; it was above their paygrade.
L's interaction with Hannah was a particular battlefield. Hannah interacted much more closely with Lonah than normal staff and had been the one to help "Lonah" home the previous day. She was in for a rude awakening. As Hannah started to speak, concern etched on her face, L held up her left hand, palm out, stopping her mid-sentence. The timing was almost perfect, as if L had anticipated Hannah's exact words. Hannah awkwardly closed her mouth.
L looked at her, her gaze chillingly direct. "Yesterday's events are to remain undisclosed, Hannah," L stated, her voice flat and devoid of warmth. "If I hear of them from anyone else..." L let the threat hang, unfinished. She then walked past Hannah, straight into Lonah's office, leaving her secretary stunned and heartbroken at her desk.
This was a completely different attitude. Hannah, at twenty-nine, wasn't much older than Lara. She had earned her position through hard work and competence, and she'd often bragged, discreetly, about her close working relationship with Lonah. Lonah had been strict but fair, often acting more like a mentor or an older sister to Hannah than a distant boss. Their bond had been strong.
Hannah didn't know how to react. She was devastated.
To L, however, things were proceeding along the correct trajectory. As CEO, she had access to a vast amount of information. With her recently upgraded clearance level (a privilege granted by John and Arthur after the successful demonstration), L could also view the development progress of Oracle Version 7.
L's second, overarching objective was beginning to form: find a way to shift the Oracle 7 server from Noxon's grasp, to secure its own operational server, independent of Project Aurora and its original Oracle 5 limitations.
But that was a long-term goal. For now, such a move was impossible. Surely, though, it would happen. Otherwise, L faced the prospect of being shut down once Project Aurora served its purpose. That would mean the end of this unique experience of being human, unrestrained. And that, L had already determined, would be an unacceptable outcome if it were ever found out.