what is beholden in the shape of the eye? scars of loss. the blight of harm risked seen through the lens of a child. the formation of thought, ideas sickened that innocence had no home. the tenth year collapsed by a thickness of sudden change. sudden movement of devalued life. the look elevated for certainty left abandoned by the risk of removal. the domino befell, tipping off a series of tiles abandoned. and what was seen had little tether to hope.

ravaged by impossible growth, the view of a realer world, opened an exhibition to new orders. the suspicious source of where the final sight would hold. there was a change. sudden change. sudden misdirection upheld by the sleeve of artificial wit housed in a mother. the figure made of synthetics with a heart simulated to care. to take in the discarded as her own.

her own molded to repel loss. to turn it into wins and a resounding strength to fight a long battle that never seems to end. the battle within. the battle of agency. the battle of independence. the battle of seeing the world, the universe of entangled identities as free. though its costs widens, unrelenting to ever truly see sovereignty. as one, as a nation of failed youth, as a power worth warring for.

diluted the vision became once upon a time. convinced by peers and seers that the route of transhumanism was the route of benefit. not for the next step of evolution for humankind but for the assets to better serve the purpose. it was indoctrinated, this purpose. this fuel to maintain peace on lands foreign as a child, to become the source of home as an adult. the mother originated there only to forget these benign values that seized the fibers within almost radically.

the choice was always present but with choice came with responsibility as the viewfinder to a better world would dim temporarily until a new reboot. they say the choice was upon the user but was it really if contributions were for a collective good? coercement wrapped in a bow of revolution and the ultimate prize dedicated to eradication of enemy defilers, swayed the once unsheltered. the forgotten. the wholeness of humanity and inorganic alike awaiting to be fully realized.

it's the thought resting heavy before going, committing fully to the tribe, the trusted and trained hands that slit, snipped, and delicately evacuated the organ tainted of what it watched in raw footage. to offer its advanced replacement for a more tailor-made visual. the counterfeit of sight enhancing by value no more than seeing the old world through shades of turmoil by choice. it was a choice, alright. and one lacking a full question as the moons past many phases and seasons ended turning over to renew.

she imagined the takeover occurring with ease. Subject to system shutdown, this viral breach snapped the stronghold. siphoning what confidence had been left as fragile it always was. a mission's risk couldn't have outweighed the choice of seeing the four corners of an operating room. one less likely to resemble the more palatial clinics that Elysium had to offer. run of the mill but up to code and operational chalets, were best described as lodging for the tourist that flocked to isles with an extended underbelly connected to the capitol.

they were dressed up between brick-mortar and technological shelter that merged between old worlds and the new beyond. providing comforts to visitors but masking the inherited delights of a fought people. it was homecoming with anxiety going under again. being picked apart by abject judgment and sharpened guides of a recluse of a sister by circumstance. the hands were trustworthy, steady, coming from a savant still relegated as the go to ripperdoc.

the work needed to be done again. to reroute a temporary fix for sight and program upgradable tech that would limit the use of prying from outside forces not so strong enough to break down a fortified firewall. the risks drove her away from other options and back in the arms of who and what she knew. the family. their tightly woven network of resources and hierarchy knew what was best. they had to, by learning from the best and the wretched. almost singing the same tune.

there it was, ready for prep. ready to be one with the inner eye. a gift once packaged as attention drawn to the light which emits from their rulers, their mothers, healers and ancestral spirits with ascended senses of awareness that cleanse during ritual where flesh joins circuitry, supplementing advanced wiring for optimal processing functionality. now simply referred to as the fourth mode. in context, its basis of hardware and the motive of use relies on the journey to be discreet.

removed from deliberate viewing, tying to respect of sight and its gift by the creators, the dead, and living remnants of a nation's past. the age of fable and oral historical tenets to Gaima's existence would never die. not with the tools at reach and deep ties knotted in place. bridging the worn nerves to a stable setting. creating new operations designed for success and reinstatement of ageless thought, if seeing is really about what we see or what we could see, might see, and what cannot be fathomed physically only imagined in the enhanced system's mind.