Empathy Corp.

What makes us human?

Even being a self-aware, self-centered, and individualistic creature, it’s the ability to feel selflessly for others.

It’s Empathy.

You cry for someone, you feel happy for someone, you get hurt by someone; Why? Because it is human.

But humanity started to perish with the introduction of the virtual world, where emotions were replaced by online glyphs.

Year 2156 A.D., the new era after the Doomscrolling Doomsday. The century without laughter and tears. It all started a hundred years ago.

2050 A.D. – Instabook, by Seta, introduced Instachip—a new form of surfing social media in virtual reality.

2060 A.D. – Virtual reality content creation took over. Influencers were the next big thing.

2100 A.D. – Everyone gets engulfed by this new form of doomscrolling, and soon, all human influencers are replaced by hyper-humane AI content.

2150 A.D. – People started living in virtual realities, abandoning humanity. So all governments came together and banned all kinds of virtual surfing.

Within 2-3 years of the ban, it became clear that the years of virtual doomscrolling made humans immune to real emotions. People roamed around like zombies, families got separated, societies broke apart, and love vanished. Without any real-life desires, the population shrank drastically.

A new epidemic, called The Emptiness, wiped out a quarter of the population. It was a condition in which the brain refused to function due to a lack of stimulation. Soon after, bodily functions shut down, and the person falls into an eternal coma—quite peacefully.

The third-world countries were most affected by it due to a lack of resources for crisis control. Those countries quickly became slums of the world. The West and China were able to delay the inevitable for some years, but they too lost this war. Without quick stimulation, nobody had the attention span or motivation to do anything.

The world economy crashed, dividing the world into two parts—The Roof and The Basement. The Roof was governed by a handful of people who still had some emotions left. They were called Empaths. They managed to create a system for powerful and wealthy people with the introduction of the AMS (Automatic Management System). All bureaucratic, economic, health, and governmental bodies were managed by AMS—the most powerful AI system.

But the trivial tasks that AI couldn't do, like real-life maintenance, waste management, construction, and repairing, were left to The Basement. All of the developing and underdeveloped nations at that time turned into hubs for data centers and dumping grounds.

Food became the new currency of the Third World. People were only living out of their survival instincts. By doing menial cleaning and repairing jobs, Basement people were able to satisfy their hunger; while the Roof contained all the luxuries of the world. However, without any solid desires left in humans, it was evident that humanity would not survive long.

All changed by the invention of a drug called Empath Serum, manufactured by Empathy Corporation. Contained in a tiny ampoule, the azure solution temporarily induced emotional receptivity in its subject. Its consumption allowed a person to feel things and achieve an ecstatic state. However, its limited supply and exorbitant cost made it a luxury only the chosen ones from the Roof could afford.

Empath intoxication was highly addictive and lasted up to 74 hours. Its intake would make people euphoric and allow them to feel “human” again, which was the motto of Empathy Corporation—Feel Human Again.

Meanwhile, in a remote outskirt of The Basement, previously known to be Nepal, shared a close proximity to China–a big part of the Roof. Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, quickly became one of the largest dumping grounds. Drenched in a foul smell of rust and ashes, the whole city looked like an ashtray. Piles of old, broken machinery, fallen buildings, debris of concrete, smoke rising, and several bunkers made out of shipping containers became a home for a lot of people. People who couldn't find a spot in the bunker would either roam around like homeless zombies going through leftovers of rotten food or die because of starvation or the emptiness.

In one of the junk heaps, there was a beaten and crooked container. It was surrounded by chunks of huge metal and a pyramid of garbage. Above the container, there was almost 20 feet of metallic pile. The container looked like it could collapse at any time under the weight of the humongous junk. In that vulnerable vessel lived a guy, Poopfungi26. Since all the governmental organizations crashed down in the 2150s, people were called by their previous Instabook usernames. Yet, it didn't matter because humans stopped calling each other by their names a long time ago.

PF26 (poopfungi26) was in his mid twenties with a pale body corroded by the rustic air. His body barely had any meat on the bones. From a distance, someone could misrecognize him as one of the steel sticks sticking out of concrete debris.

He worked as a Sprinkler in one of the data hubs located in the heart of the city. It was 200 stories high and covered an area of Buzzground, previously known as Tudikhel. The data facility tends to produce a lot of buzzing sound, which is why it was called Buzzground. Its high electricity consumption and heavy calculations also produced a lot of heat. Sprinklers were the people responsible for watering the plants—huge servers and generators responsible for the computing.

PF26 earned his daily ration of food by working 15 hours in the facility, mindlessly watering the plants. His daily routine for the last ten years was identical: waking up, working, eating the only meal of the day, going back to his bunker, and sleeping.

He lived in loneliness. His parents passed away from the emptiness, some years after his birth. And, it was not the age when people had friends or partners.

Back in the Roof, the newfound solution was taking over. Those who could actually afford it stayed high in Empath dosage all day long. After a long time, people were able to feel the pulse of their heart, zeal to live, desire to do things, and warmth of the sex.

However, its short-lasting effects were inadequate to bring back deep-rooted humanity traits—like curiosity, enthusiasm, love, faith, and most importantly, Empathy.

But the thrills of the Empath serum were definitely addictive, and the demand for it was skyrocketing. Empath Corp. had promised to meet the market demand in the near future.

Far from the chaos, PF26 was continuing his daily routine without questioning anything. None of it mattered to him. He was just surviving in default mode, purely driven by his hunger calls.

It was one of the identical days; nothing peculiar. He finished his 15-hour drill, packed his food, and trod tiredly toward his so-called home. On his way back, he felt something or someone following him. He didn't look back. He thought it might be one of those homeless zombies following the scent of his meal. They were harmless, so he continued his walk home. But it kept tailing him. He could hear strange footsteps behind him. It was definitely not from a human or a homeless. Yet he ignored it. Humans had already stopped fearing or caring, and PF26 was not an exception either.

Through the familiar rugged trails, he finally stepped into a dark shadow casted by his abode; but still unable to get away from the piercing, razor-sharp gaze from before. Obliviously, he opened the crackling door of his bunker and turned back to shut the door. At the baseline of his straight eyesight, he saw a tiny creature—damped and muddy, wagging its soaked tail. It was a pup.

This was a rare sight to encounter any animals, especially in the hostile environment of the Basement. Unfazed, PF26 spent some minutes staring at that dirty little beast. Exhibiting a foul gutter smell, that creature sat in front of his door, looking innocently at the blank face of PF26.

Arf

The critter squealed.

It startled PF26 a bit. He hadn't heard such a noise besides crackles and buzzes. He leant forward and scanned the wet, furry face of that brute.

Arf

It spoke again and groaked at the hanging plastic bag. PF26 reached out to his meal bag with his left hand. The pup's tail started to wag ferociously. Bewildered by that response, he gave it a little bit of the processed artificial meat from his ration. The pup munched it excitedly, even licking up any scents left in the ground.

PF26 stood up, looked at that gleeful face one last time, and shut the door.

The next day, waking up at the holler of the town alarm, PF26 prepared himself for his shift. He put some effort into opening up the jammed door only to find the pup from yesterday carefreely sleeping with its belly up at his doorside; twisting and turning in its sleep.

After staring at that spectacle for a minute, he ventured on his everyday path to follow his everyday routine. For Basement people, time flows in a circular path—a loop. For PF26, he was also living a looping memory; every new day was a copy of yesterday.

Like always, he finished his 15-hour drill, packed his meal, and headed toward home. Normally, he would enter his home, eat the meal, and sleep to repeat the same schedule tomorrow.

But today was different—a glitch in the loop. He could see a familiar face awaiting his arrival at the doorstep of his bunker. Without giving much attention, he walked toward his door. But that little creature started to run toward him. PF26 stopped, not knowing what to do next. He froze and just watched that tiny beast storming toward him.

Within a few seconds, that pup reached PF26 and started to circle him several times before sitting in front of him, moving its tail from left to right. The pup might only be a few weeks old. Its greyish, fluffy fur was coated with black slime and dirt. Its eyes were radiating a blueish color with a long red tongue sticking out of its mouth, drooling with saliva.

PF26 could do nothing but just analyze its features. It was nothing like he had seen before. He stared at it a bit and walked toward his bunker. Before entering, he gave a small piece of the artificial meat, slightly bigger than yesterday, to the pup. The pup jumped on it with the same ferocity and gulped it in one bite, savoring every fiber of the meat.

The days went by. They kept sharing the same encounters every day. The pup started growing, and PF26 also started working 17 hours for extra ration. But their relationship was rather symbiotic. The pup was in it for the food, and PF26 was in it for rather unexplainable reasons. Maybe it was nothing, or maybe because it was the only anomalous event of his daily routine. He couldn't exactly name this phenomenon, and he didn't give it much of a thought.

In the Roof, people were fighting each other for a drop of the Empath serum. The current supply was nowhere near satisfying the compulsions. The thrills of Empath intoxication made people crave more. The aftereffects of Empath usage made people more soulless and hollow from the inside. The only solution was more intake of this drug.

On the other hand, Empathy Corp. was making a fortune out of it and establishing dominance in the Roof politics. They monopolized the supply, upped its cost, and controlled everyone, from people to governments.

While in the Basement, things stayed the same. There was no craze or profit for drug distribution in the Basement. It was solely driven by the hunger to survive. So the Basement was ignored by the Empathy Corp. and the Roof government.

Among the hunger-driven people of the Basement, PF26 was living a quite unusual groove. Everything stayed the same in his daily schedule apart from a fleeting interaction. Every day, he had someone waiting for him. This daily meeting brewed some strange reactions in his gut. He had never experienced such an occurrence before. After his hectic work, looking at the pup devouring every bit of chewy meat hooked him in that moment.

He would look at its frisky eating for hours. The pup would jump, circle, chase its tail, and drool until PF26 gave it the meat. He would straightly jump on it, sometimes even trip and roll away; only to get back up quickly and attack the tiny piece of meat.

The pup's exuberant performance would fixate the eyes of PF26 until it gets tired and goes to sleep at the side of the bunker's doorstep.

Slowly but surely, new neural connections started to form inside PF26’s brain. Every time he spent moments with the pup, his brain functions started to spike. His pupils will dilate, his heartbeat will accelerate, and his body temperature will rise. Next, he felt.

Though PF26 didn't understand what was happening to him, this was the first time in almost fifty years that a human felt an emotion naturally. The emotion felt by PF26 was a basic fondness, but in the era where humans were empty shells, a lowlife taught him the joy of being human.

Days went by, and PF26 started feeling more curious and amazed by the pup's silly acts. The pup also started being more energetic around PF26. Their relationship was no longer symbiotic. Both started feeling attached to each other. In a hopeless world marching toward an inevitable doom, PF26 and the pup found a fleeting comfort in each other's company. The mundane days started to light up, just a little bit.

A month passed by, PF26 continued with his daily routine between home and the plant. But every day, he will return home with a small plastic bag where the pup would be eagerly waiting for him. After playing with it for some time, he would give it a meal.

Unlike before, PF26 would sit beside it and eat his share of the meal—staring at the brown horizon blurred by the clouds of smoke. The pup would also join him after finishing its meal and sometimes doze off on his lap.

It was a dusky evening. The air was painted by toxic fumes from the plants, and the static buzzing noise enveloped the silence. PF26 just finished his drill and was heading home with a masked enthusiasm.

He picked his daily ration and advanced on a boulevard of junk. The journey was monotonous, like revisiting a memory, but someone was waiting for him at the end. This thought kept him on his toes. He could see the familiar metal pyramid sheltering his bunker in the distance. He paced with brisk steps. He could now see the uneven patio of his abode, and at its end, he could see the pup. His eyes lit up, and he could hear the faint sounds of it barking.

As he was about to enter his garbage courtyard, two men in hazmat suits jumped from a pile of debris next to his abode and violently picked up the pup. He could hear the pup shrieking, but they were still out of his reach. He ran toward them, but they were already putting the pup inside an old van and preparing to drive away. Before he could catch them, they drove away with the pup.

The van was slowly disappearing into the horizon, but PF26 kept chasing after it. Then, suddenly, the van stopped outside a dark, menacing building, Empathy Corporation written with red neon lights at the top.

Following the trail of wheel marks, PF26 found the van parked outside a wired fence. The van was empty. He looked behind the wired fence and saw a dimly lit building. At the fence, there was a signboard.

Property of Empathy Corp. No Entry.

He could hear some weird noise coming from inside the building. Without much thought, he climbed through the fence. There were no people in sight. He peeked from the glass door but could only see a long hallway. He entered with some hesitation.

After crossing the hallway, he entered a room looking like a factory. The machines were off, but they kind of looked like some food processing equipment. He saw a metal door at the end of the room. He went through it.

This room was different. It was a slaughterhouse. There were chunks of meat hanging by the rope. The floor was covered in red with a smell of iron in the air. A bit far, there were decapitated heads of cows, dogs, and several other mammals. Their eyes were wide open—like they saw something truly terrifying before getting beheaded.

PF26 walked slowly through the horrific sights. He found another door. It led to a lab-like room. There were huge glass containers filled with some blue liquid. He kept moving forward and reached a room sealed with transparent glass. Inside that glass room, he saw the pup strapped to a chair.

Several wires were connected to his head, and on top of his head, a pointy needle was aiming between his eyes. There was no visible entrance to that glass room. An LED board was hanging at the top.

OPERATION EMPATH SERUM

These words were glaring in bright red light. PF26 tried to force his way through the glass wall, but it was too thick. He looked at the pup and reminisced about the time spent with it. But he felt powerless against an inch-thick see-through glass wall.

Arrrrr

He heard the pup yelping through small holes in the glass wall. The pup was staring at him, but was too weak to do anything else. It looked like it was drugged.

Arrrrr

It cried again.

Helpless, not knowing what to do, PF26 banged the glassed wall continuously. The needle started to move closer to the pup's head.

PF26 panicked. He started banging the glass wall more violently.

But it was of no use. He could only helplessly see the needle getting closer.

The needle reached the pup's head, right between its eyes. It slowly started piercing the furry skin.

NOOOOOOOOO

PF26 shouted loud enough for the walls to echo his cry multiple times. PF26 plucked an iron handle from one of the liquid containers and started hitting the glassed wall.

The glass cracked a bit. PF26 noticed the crack and prepared to hit it again with his full strength.

At that same time, he heard a group of boots stopping behind him. He didn't notice when they entered the room. But that was not important right now.

He could see that half of the needle had already pierced through the pup's head. The pup was already unconscious. He swung his arm one last time, desperately.

Right then, BAM!! Something struck his head.

He felt himself falling down slowly.

His vision felt blurry.

And then everything went black.

(To be Continued)