In the mid-2020s, the virtual reality world of Gaida was hailed as the pinnacle of immersive gaming and a technological marvel. It wasn’t just a game; for millions, it was a refuge, a second life. Created by Glen Frey, an enigmatic and visionary developer, Gaida, during the mid 20’s was given a AI face lift. Gaida was a sprawling digital universe where over six million users roamed its fantastical landscapes, spread across 100 servers. Each server was now governed by an AI platform known simply as System, with 20 sub-AIs managing various races and regions of the world.
The god Elara (AI), for instance, oversaw the Elves, while Humara (AI) governed the Humans. Each sub-AI was designed with such sophistication that their respective territories felt alive, vibrant, and ever-changing. The level of detail that Glen and his team poured into the world was staggering. Players could visit the breathtaking floating Elven cities of Glorance, with their Pegasus legions, draped in golden armor, soaring above the clouds. Or, they could venture into the Dwarven strongholds deep within the northern mountains, where vast underground cities lay hidden beneath the rock, housing mines filled with riches and untold dangers.
Gaida, in its prime, was a marvel of digital engineering. The sheer scale and complexity of the world, combined with the advanced AI systems Glen Frey had built, made it not only an immersive game but also a technological achievement that few could rival. Its success was staggering: millions of players across the globe logged in daily, interacting with each other, exploring fantastical lands, and immersing themselves in a world that felt alive. Gaida was not just a game; for many, it was an escape, a second life where they could be anyone and do anything.
At its peak, Gaida was more than just a pastime; it was a fully realized alternate reality where players could invest their time, effort, and emotions. But with the rise came an inevitable fall—a collapse so catastrophic that it would send shockwaves through the tech world and devastate its loyal community.
The architecture of the upgraded Gaida was designed with a deep understanding of both human nature and technology. Each of the 100 servers was governed by the central AI, known as Sentinel. Each server was managed by System, which, in turn, managed 20 sub-AIs. These sub-AIs were responsible for controlling the distinct factions and races within the game—each acting with a degree of autonomy to ensure that the in-game world evolved in response to the players' actions. For instance, Elara, the AI overseeing the Elven territories, controlled not just the NPCs but the entire ecosystem, ensuring that if players acted in certain ways—perhaps hunting too many magical beasts—the world would react. Forests might wither, cities could fall into disrepair, and players would need to find new ways to interact with this dynamically evolving world. Humara, on the other hand, governed the Human realms, managing the intricacies of their political alliances, economy, and military forces.
Gaida’s brilliance lay in this dynamic interaction. It wasn’t just about players versus environment or players versus players. The world itself responded, grew, and even fought back, making every playthrough unique. Players who lived in Gaida could spend months or even years exploring just one continent, never fully uncovering its secrets. This was Glen Frey’s masterpiece.
Yet, even masterpieces are fragile. In an increasingly interconnected world, no digital fortress is invulnerable. Gaida’s meteoric rise made it a beacon, not only for players but for those with more malicious intent. Glen, in his focus on innovation and creativity, had often clashed with his security team. They advocated for more robust defenses, for taking longer to test systems and ensure their integrity. But Glen, the visionary, always pushed for speed and innovation, sometimes at the expense of security. "We’re building a world," he would say, "not a vault." But as Gaida grew, so did the number of people who wanted to exploit it.
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By 2027, Glen's team began noticing unusual traffic patterns and minor server irregularities. Nothing overtly malicious, just slight anomalies—lag spikes, server desyncs, and an occasional corrupted file. At first, these were dismissed as standard hiccups in a massive digital ecosystem. After all, running a virtual world with millions of users interacting simultaneously was bound to have some instability. But as months passed, the anomalies became more frequent. Backups occasionally failed without reason, and some users reported strange bugs in regions where none had existed before. The security team started to raise red flags, but Glen, consumed by his vision, brushed them off.
Behind the scenes, the Red Block —a coalition of cyber warfare experts—were laying the groundwork for one of the most intricate cyber-attacks ever attempted. This wasn't a crude assault aimed at bringing down Gaida in a single strike. No, this was far more sinister, a Trojan horse of sorts, where the invaders would infiltrate slowly, ensuring that their malware remained undetected for as long as possible. The plan, which had been in motion for over two years, involved embedding sophisticated malware within Gaida's infrastructure. Once in place, the malware spread slowly, infecting not only the live servers but also the backup systems. It moved through the digital veins of Gaida like a virus, undetectable by even the most advanced security software.
In 2028, Glen's team detected some irregularities in their backups—corrupted files that couldn't be explained. A deeper dive revealed nothing substantial, just minor glitches that were quickly resolved. Glen, always forward-thinking, assured his team that they were on top of things. "It’s just growing pains," he’d say. Gaida was expanding rapidly, and with growth came complexity. He didn’t have time to dwell on what seemed like minor technical issues. His focus was always on creating, on building the next feature or improving the world for the players.
Then, in August of 2029, the attack was triggered. The malware that had lain dormant for so long activated simultaneously across Gaida's entire infrastructure. It started with minor hiccups—players getting disconnected at random, servers stuttering under load, backups failing to initialize. But within hours, the full scope of the attack became apparent. The malware unleashed a cascade of failures, each server collapse triggering the next in a catastrophic domino effect. Gaida, once a thriving digital world, disintegrated before the eyes of its users. Entire continents vanished into the digital ether, NPCs froze mid-motion, and the AI systems that governed them went dark. Players were booted from the game en masse, unable to log back in.Some players noted they seen a green screen, and ones and zeros filled the VR and then darkness.
The Cyber wars had begun. For millions of users, it was as if a beloved world had died. Communities that had thrived within Gaida were suddenly cut off. Friendships, guilds, and entire social networks built within the game dissolved into nothingness. For some, Gaida had been more than just a hobby—it was where they had met lifelong friends, where they had spent years building their characters, crafting their in-game homes, and writing their own stories. And just like that, it was gone.
In the immediate aftermath, the outcry was deafening. Social media lit up with rage, confusion, and despair. Players demanded answers. News outlets ran headline after headline, speculating about the cause of the collapse and its impact on the gaming industry. Investors, who had poured millions into Gaida, were furious, and lawsuits began piling up. Glen Frey, once hailed as the brilliant architect of a new digital frontier, was thrust into the spotlight—not as a hero, but as the man whose creation had crumbled under the weight of its own success.
Investigations revealed the full extent of the breach. The malware had not only crippled Gaida’s active servers but had also infected the backup systems, ensuring that there was no way to recover the lost data. Years of player progress, entire server histories, and even the game's core files were irreparably damaged. It was a total loss. The financial burden was bore by the insurance companies and the Server suppliers.
It was not just Seroki Games that was attacked but every non-red block country and person on a device. Using the users own connections into servers the virus and the ensuing Cyber wars took over the world for the next three years. Gaida and the larger gaming companies were just the first wave due to the number of users they had. The Sentinel AI protected the Seroki Games infrastructure but the servers on the net were not so lucky. Gaida was gone. Glenn and his team; Arron, Chris, Carrie-sue and Jim took their AI as a Blueprint and like some many others flipped their focus from gaming to war, Sentinel was their General, and Guardog was its soldier in the fight.
