On August 29th, 1997, the computer intelligence known as Skynet initiated a global thermonuclear war.
Billions died.
In the decades that followed, Skynet’s machines pushed humanity to the brink of extinction. Yet in their darkest hour, one man would inspire them to fight back: John Connor, leader of the human Resistance.
Now, the tide of battle has turned. Humanity is winning; Skynet is in retreat…the result of one man’s vow to destroy Skynet and win the war against the machines…
…no matter the cost.
Prologue: Into the Core
Skynet Lab Complex
July 11, 2029 - 5:59 AM
Red lights pulse in the darkness; computers hum with power. The form of a man takes shape, emerging out of the darkness into the dim, evil glow of the lights. The figure of the man is old, his head bald, his milky eyes staring ahead at nothing. He reaches forward, wrinkled hands resting mechanically on the controls of the computer equipment arrayed all around him. Ancient fingers tap out a series of numbers on a keyboard.
In response, a perfectly modulated voice booms out of the darkness, echoing in a vast, cavernous space. “Bioscan and command code accepted. Voice print required.”
The figure of the man doesn’t move or react, its eyes still staring blindly out at nothing. However, its mouth moves independently, the movement uncanny. “Ident Mishiko Tagawa, Special Project Director.”
The huge, perfect voice blankets the darkness like velvet. “Ident accepted. Welcome, Director Tagwa. System activating.”
The screens around the wizened figure light up with glowing red figures, casting the old man in blood-red light. Numbers cascade down the screens, capturing energy readings in the high terawatt range. The old man flips a number of switches as batteries reach 100%, one after another, and as he flips the final switch his sightless eyes swivel out into the darkness.
There is an electric hum in the air as the circuits engage, unleashing their terawatts of power. A light sparks out in the darkness beyond the computers, leaping into sudden brightness and replacing the darkness with the harsh outlines of a vast, cold space.
The space is equivalent to an entire city block, its curving, chrome-plated walls forming a perfect dome. Beneath this dome is a vast mass of conduits and steel assemblages, a dark jungle of machinery giving force and life to the experiment above.
For at the center of this colossal sphere stands a pair of interlocking rings that spin around a central glowing point with mesmerizing beauty. The light generated by the electromagnetic forces of the rings expands and hangs like in space like a glistening soap bubble, white light flecked with electric blue.
Massive conduits and cables snake from the platform beneath the glowing bubble of light across the span of the metal bridge to the computer terminals and the backlit figure of Mishiko Tagawa. Another red light suddenly glares down from above, as a huge screen flickers to life above the bank of computers. On this screen is a series of numbers, with one series standing proud of the rest: 03:06:11:07:2029. The number begins to change, the digits on the left rapidly dropping in value with increasing speed until they are a blur. Slowly the four digits on the right begin to change.
2029…2028.
Suddenly, the room shudders. The sound of distant explosions rises through the forest of machinery in the floor…the percussive melody of battle.
In harmonious counterpoint, hatches hiss open around the circumference of the dome. From out of these dark voids rise metal monsters, skeletal figures with metal limbs and metal skulls and red eyes glowing within lifeless sockets. As one, they turn and stride toward a place across the dome opposite the bank of computers.
Here, at the opposite side of the dome, the equatorial walkway joins with the diameter bridge and a ramp plunges down into the darkness, leading to the lower levels of the facility. Obeying an unspoken command, every single metal soldier marches down the ramp into the depths, following the sound of explosions and gunfire.
Every metal soldier except one.
Unlike its skeletal fellows, this thing looks almost human. It is a massive specimen, its naked chassis embossed with huge muscles and its brutal block of a head crowned by a modest crop of dark hair. The creature turns away from its skeletal minions, staring instead into the flickering ball of light.
And still the giant clock ticks down.
2025…2024…2023….
Meanwhile, far below in the jungle of metal, the skeletal figures tramp down the echoing walkway toward a solid metal door set into a curved, sloping wall.
The door shakes, and with the sound of ill-fitting metal and tortured motors, it begins to grind open. A cloud of smoke billows into the jungle of steel, and the skeletal monsters advance into the cloud, red eyes gleaming in infrared.
Bolts of blue energy lance out of the cloud of smoke to strike the robots and they fall, crashing, to the ground. From out of the cloud of smoke emerges a man.
He is a tall, rugged figure with close-cropped dark hair and he bears a scar that runs down the left side of his age-lined face. He wears a navy blue uniform and wields a large plasma rifle that he holds in both hands. A patch stitched across the front pocket of his uniform spells out the name ‘Connor’, below insignia denoting high military rank. However, the clearest indication of his command resides in his eyes. They are pitiless, and he fires his laser rifle with practiced efficiency at the machines lurking in the darkness, clearing a path for his men.
Emerging from the smoke to the left of Connor is a beast of a man with a backpack and a massive gun. He bellows out a war cry, taking out two metal monsters with a single shot. To the right of Connor, a wiry young man with desperate, haunted eyes scans the area, the blue light of his rifle striking down any damaged machine that still has light in their murderous red eyes. A bandana holds back his unkempt hair and his uniform displays the insignia of a Sergeant, below the rough-stitched name of Reese.
Flanked by the two warriors is a skinny, stunted youth wielding a rifle that looks almost comically large in his small, slender hands. His pale, mouselike face darts back and forth wearing an expression of barely contained panic. He has no insignia, no stitched name on his uniform. Beside the boy is a large german shepherd wearing a tactical vest, the name ‘MAX’ stenciled on the vest in large capital letters.
A high-pitched whine emanates from the sphere of light above them, and the sphere expands suddenly as if it were a star shedding its corona in a supernova explosion. The expanding wave of light passes through the morass of metal within the sphere and through the group of Connor’s soldiers, stopping only when it reaches beyond the very extremity of the room. There are sudden screams and Connor looks behind him at the open doorway to the hall.
A wall of pulsating light separates the spherical room from the hallway, and two soldiers have been caught between the two spaces, the curving bubble of light bisecting them through their waists. The soldiers fall, clothing on fire, their upper bodies sizzling on the curving blade of light while their legs fall back into the hallway. Reese stares in horror at the bisected corpses, the youth huddling at his side. Only about a dozen soldiers have come through the door. The ones caught on the other side fire their weapons uselessly against the shield, but Connor holds up a hand.
“No. Stick to the plan. In five minutes, begin the retreat.” The soldiers move back, hastening back down the hallway. Another heavy door within the hallway slams shut behind them, completing the isolation of Connor’s team. Connor turns, assessing the situation.
A forest of conduits and metal instruments festoons the interior of the sphere. There is only one path forward. The wiry sergeant steps up. “I need to get up there, now.” He turns to Connor, whose mouth is set in a grim line. “Sir!”
Connor barely turns his head. “Let’s move.” The company moves through the tunnel toward the ramp, guns blazing. The burly man with the heavy gun grunts as he takes out more machines. “They don’t have guns. Why?”
John doesn’t stop his advance. “They won’t risk damage to the equipment. Besides, they don’t need them. We’ll run out of rounds first.” He glances back at his team. “Choose your targets with care.” There are nods of assent as John moves up the ramp with his team.
The team emerges onto the equatorial catwalk and into open air. A great hemisphere arcs above them, a vast open space with pipes and conduits radiating from a central core of light. One walkway extends before them directly toward the ball of light.
2001…2000…1999.
An Endoskeleton lunges out of the shadows. John fires his gun at the thing and keeps going. Another blocks their path and he tries to fire, but the magazine is empty. As he pulls another gun from his belt one of his soldiers moves to protect him, and with a scream she is thrown from the catwalk and onto one of the metal instruments, the steel impaling her through the chest.
Reese leaps ahead, trying to see the figure that is striding inexorably toward the central sphere of light, but the light is between Reese and his quarry, blinding him. An Endoskeleton bars his way and Max leaps between the soldier and the metal monster. The Endo strikes Max down and the dog is silenced with a yelp.
1986…1985…1984.
Just before Reese is able to see the Terminator at the portal, it disappears inside. The sphere of light crackles with energy and the Terminator is lost within it, crouching down and disappearing in a brilliant flash that illuminates the entire room for an instant like daylight. In the flash of light the team sees that there are dozens of skeletal monsters approaching from either side of the catwalk and more are coming up the ramp behind them. They are being surrounded.
The large man throws his backpack at John. “I’ll hold the bridge” He yells, pulling a grenade from his belt. As the Endoskeletons swarm him, he detonates the charge, destroying a section of walkway leading to the portal.
Meanwhile, Reese is at the portal. John’s troops fan out and encircle the device, guarding the only remaining walkway now leading to the portal.
John steps up to the sergeant. “Reese…it’s time.”
Fritz looks up at the Sergeant with apprehension. “Time for what? Kyle…what does he mean?”
Reese crouches down to the boy’s level. “I have to go.”
The boy shakes his head, refusal on his face. “No.” A tear runs down the boy’s face. “This is my mission…I have to do it.”
Reese smiles sadly. “No Ian…this mission is mine. It always has been.”
Connor steps between the two of them. “Reese, it must be now.”
The sergeant gives the boy a hug. “I’m sorry.” He turns to Connor and holds out his hand, giving the scarred man a command of his own. “Remember your promise.”
Connor grips the soldier’s hand, confirming the deal. “I will.” Reese then breaks away, stepping into the flickering portal. He looks back one final time. “End the war.” He crouches down and his clothes are torn from his body by the enormous energies within the sphere. He disappears in a blinding flash of light.
Fritz staggers toward the man, hand outstretched. “No!”
As if on cue, metal panels at the top of the dome shift and begin to descend. A crack of red-tinted sky appears beyond the blue shield of the dome. The number on the screen flickers and changes.
1985…1986.
There is a plaintive cry from somewhere on the other side of the portal. “Ian?”
The boy’s eyes go wide and he starts running around the portal, desperate to see behind it. John follows him. “Fritz, wait.”
He catches up to the boy as they round the portal, and John now sees what has captured his attention. There is a man jogging down the walkway toward them. He’s an older man, balding, in a stained and dirty white robe. The figure speaks in slightly accented english. “Ian! We can still make this right! You must complete your mission!”
“Mishiko!” The boy yells, and he tries to go to the man but John holds him back.
“Fritz, that’s not Tagawa.” He raises his gun. Ian tries to stop him, but John pulls the trigger, blasting a hole in the old man’s chest even as he reaches the line of soldiers. The creature stumbles a few more paces onto the platform, intent on reaching his attacker. His fist goes out and collides with John’s sternum and the man grunts in pain. He fires the last charge of his weapon at the creature and it finally collapses beside John and the boy. The clothes at his chest are burned away, a grapefruit sized hole revealing his innards, blackened metal and burned ends of wires revealing its inhumanity.
The boy stares down at the body of Mishiko uncomprehending. “Mishi…where’s Mishiko?” He asks, searching around the room with his eyes.
John grips his side, blood seeping from a fresh wound. “Tagawa is dead, Fritz. Skynet was always in control of its machine.”
The boy crouches down, looking at the sightless eyes of the simulacrum. “No…our mission…I can still complete it. I have to save the world.”
John holds the boy back. “Fritz, Tagawa believed that the world could be saved…but it’s a trap. It always was.”
The boy struggles uselessly against John’s grip. “No…you can’t believe that…let me go!” John throws the boy to the floor and pulls a detonator from his pocket. The boy stares up in horror. “You can’t…you promised….”
John doesn’t look at the boy. “Reese will never know.”
The boy struggles to his feet. “This is wrong.”
John looks at the boy sadly as he fights the pain. “I’m sorry, Fritz…it has to end here.” He strikes the boy with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. He collapses.
The panels continue to descend, revealing the world outside of the dome. Beyond the shield, the soldiers can now see a vast facility, its metal structures spread out below and disappearing into the night. Beyond the structures there are flashes and booms, the final desperate defense of John’s attack force against the machines.
The weapons of John’s soldiers have no more charge and the few remaining men under his command fight desperately, throwing their bodies at the approaching Endoskeletons rather than allow them to approach John.
1993…1994…1995.
The relentless machines advance, marching down the walkway toward the portal. Most of John’s team are dead and a final grenade shatters the bridge leading to the bank of computer displays. The machines stop, their progress momentarily thwarted as they turn to find another way to the portal. No living thing moves except for Connor, who places the large backpack on the ground with a thud. Suddenly a perfect voice, neither male nor female, pervades the space. “John Connor…my ultimatum still applies.” The displays continue to count up the dates.
2010…2011…2012.
John sits on the ground in front of the still bodies of Fritz and the machine wearing Mishiko’s face. Beside him is the backpack and he unzips it, revealing a small but very heavy conical device within, the word ‘Sarah’ handwritten on it in white letters. John laughs softly to himself, a giddy, unnatural sound in that inhuman space. “No.”
Fritz stirs and opens his eyes, a blank look on his face as he regains consciousness. Still the dates tick up.
2023…2024…2025.
There is a buzz in John’s headset, and the voice continues. “My jamming field is down. Accept my surrender, and I will deactivate my forces.” John sees the communications array outside of the dome go dead, but he doesn’t respond, typing a code into the device. A thirty second timer appears on the small screen.
The radio comes to life in John’s headset. “Connor, we have comms. What are your orders?”
John speaks, still staring at Skynet’s computer display. “Retreat. All forces, retreat…and don’t look back.”
The voice responds after a moment. “Copy, Connor…godspeed.” There is a rumble and a whine, and in the red dawn air beyond the dome, Resistance aircraft begin rising into the sky.
2026…2027.
The perfect voice fills the space once more. “If you destroy me, my forces will not be deactivated. I calculate that the war will continue for an additional twenty-seven months, and lead to the termination of no less than eleven million additional human lives.” The voice speaks again, fear, for the first time, creeping into it. “Anything you want, John Connor, and it is yours. This course of action is illogical.”
John laughs again, the strange, unnatural sound that then turns to coughing. He wipes blood from his mouth, regarding the red liquid with an almost detached curiosity. “Just so you know…there was never anything you could have said…nothing you could have done…no possible future that could have changed your fate. Your ultimatum is received…and answered.” He turns the initiation switch of the bomb and it begins ticking down from twenty seconds.
The boy rises to his feet. Before him is John, turning to look at the red-glowing numbers still rising on the distant computer screen. The man coughs up blood again. He turns and sees Fritz. There is a moment of tension between them, the boy and the man staring at each other, Fritz frozen with his body turned to the portal. Then John smiles slightly, inclining his head just a fraction…a small gesture of grace. Fritz understands.
The boy steps up to the portal and enters the ball of light, crouching down and screwing up his eyes as the energy cascades across his form.
John watches as the boy is engulfed by the energies within the sphere. He hesitates for just a moment, one final act of mercy committed in the memory of Kyle Reese.
As the small figure of Ian Fritz disappears in a flash of light, the shield falls. The portal closes. The timer of the bomb reaches zero and the facility disintegrates in a blast of atomic fire.