Story Art Project

And the devil died screaming: Season One in the Ultra-High Series

This a live writing, story art project.

I am writing/creating a psychological cyberpunk dystopian fantasy, a graphic novel, and a live writing experiment between writer/story artist Sam I Am and AI / Artificial Intelligence.

To make a more digitally immersive experience.

Art by Wonder Ai directed by Sam I Am. Practicing the art of story. Writer of psychological, dystopian, fiction, and nonfiction.

Noise Maker. Art is activism. Abstraction over algorithm.

This is a work in progress, live writing experiment and will be continuously edited over time.

Episode - Twenty One

Episode - Twenty One

After finishing my shower, I returned to the main floor. Despite feeling physically cleaner, my mind was still overwhelmed with trying to make sense of everything. Was any of this real? Or was I trapped in some type of alternate reality that I couldn’t, see? It was impossible to know, especially with all the Easter eggs I had hidden throughout this new world. But even then, what if those turned out to be decoys in a different, higher level of reality? Would it even matter in the end? What if each time I cracked open an egg, I only ended up in another fake reality? These thoughts were enough to drive anyone insane, and I knew that. Maybe that was their plan all along - not to recruit me, but to break me down. Or perhaps what I really needed was a true escape from technology.


It was possible that everything I was experiencing was just a figment of my overactive imagination. Maybe I had slipped into some state of hyperactive daydreaming, where the lines between reality and fantasy blurred together. I was known for getting lost in my thoughts, using it as a form of meditation for creative thinking. But usually, I could distinguish between these states and actual reality, even when under the influence of drugs or in an Ultra-High environment like this one. However, this felt different. It could have been a heightened delusional state brought on by the drugs and intense environment, or it could be real.


Another possibility was that I was losing my grip on reality. Perhaps I had schizophrenia or some other mental illness. My bi-annual psyche tests never revealed anything, but I knew how to bypass and manipulate them. After all, I didn't want the network knowing what was really going on in my mind. Although, if I truly did have a mental illness, then the me narrating these words might be different from the me who carried out those hacks, and therefore, I wouldn't remember doing them at all. But as far as I knew, I wasn't suffering from any mental illness and Legion had indeed visited me in the most bizarre circumstances imaginable.


It wasn't normal to have the devil cooking dinner for me while a disembodied voice, assumedly from the singularity, played the role of my sexual plaything to manipulate me into joining their fight against unknown enemies. All I wanted was peace and solitude as I worked on creating alternate realities for most people who had chosen to escape from the harshness of real life. As an artist, it was my duty to design worlds worth living in, even if it meant manipulating others. But then again, what do they know about reality? As I walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, I found them whistling away once again. The devil had made themselves at home, not paying rent or buying their own food and wine. Despite that, they were an excellent cook, which was perhaps the only reason I kept them around instead of sending them back to where they belonged - the fantasy books of history.


"What's on the menu for dinner?" I asked, plopping down in my seat and propping my feet up on the kitchen table while taking a sip of my drink and lighting a joint. They turned to face me.

"Walter, please don't put your feet up on the table. That's where we eat," they reminded me.

"I don't care, Satan. This is my house and you're just an intruder. I'm only putting up with you because of your cooking skills," I retorted.

"Still, can you please take your feet off?" they pleaded again. I reluctantly removed my feet from the table, feeling like a rebellious teenager. What was going on here? They were starting to feel more like a nagging partner than a metaphysical being that I used to despise and kill. It was unsettling how much I was starting to enjoy this strange relationship forming between us. But I had no intention of sleeping with them.

"So, what's cooking?" I asked, getting up from my seat and making my way towards the stove to sneak a taste. Before I could even get close, their large hand swatted mine away.

"Walter, please leave," they demanded, sounding annoyed now.

"I like it when you get annoyed," I teased back.

"If you must know, Walter, I'm making tender duck with pineapple red curry."

"What? Real duck?"

"No, Walter. Not real duck. It's virtually enhanced vegan duck simulation, but you already knew that."

"And real pineapple?"

"Yes, Walter. Real pineapple. That's something I can achieve," they replied, sounding flustered by our conversation.

"How did you manage to find pineapple? Nothing survived the catastrophes, and it wouldn’t grow in this climate," I pointed out towards the outdoors.

"There are ways and means, Walter. Ways and means."

"What does that mean?"

"I am a fallen angel, Walter. Despite my flaws and the fact that I was too weak to stop you from killing me, I am still a supernatural being with knowledge and abilities to find anything. The world out there is not what you think it is."

"So, you googled it?" I joked as a distraction while trying to decipher what they had meant by that.


“Yes, Walter if you like I Googled it. Now will you please go and entertain yourself somewhere else for a bit until dinner is ready, I really can’t concentrate with this constant questioning.”

“I thought you were a supernatural being of many powers?”

“WALTER” they snapped so I turned on my heels and left. Curious as to what they had meant but not wanting to show it. I had had already enough of a confusing day; I didn’t need their words fucking with my head any more than I had with Legion.


“Yes, Walter, I Googled it. Now, could you please find something else to do until dinner is ready? I can't focus with all these questions.”

"I thought you had supernatural powers?"

"WALTER!" I snapped, and he quickly left the room. I was curious about what they meant, but I didn't want to show it. It had been a confusing day already, and I didn't need their words adding to the chaos in my mind, like Legion had done.


This is a live book series writing/story art, graphic novel cyberpunk, dystopian fantasy project. Written by Sam I Am Artwork by Wonder Ai directed by Sam I Am. Copyright is protected. It is a first rough draft work in progress so will change over time. This project is part of the writing projects.

words by me

Images directed by me and created using Wonder Ai


by Sam I Am

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