Gemotions

The hum of the server room was a low, constant drone, mirroring the persistent ache in Ben's temples. He'd poured everything into his AI-powered language translator, convinced it would change communication forever. Instead, he found someone else had beat him to the finish. He moved mechanically, checking the data logs, though he knew there was nothing left to salvage. A strange detachment filled him; his sense of purpose had evaporated. He felt like a ghost, haunting the empty corridors of his own ambition. He turned out the lights and walked away.