Chapter 1: The Departure

In recent years, a peculiar trend has emerged across various sectors of the corporate world. Despite the implementation of stringent cybersecurity measures on computer networks, many companies were making a surprising shift away from electronic media and returning to an age-old method of communication—interoffice couriers. It was a change that raised eyebrows and invited curiosity. However, it was the controversial actions of a Japanese company that thrust this transition into the international spotlight, causing uproar throughout the Western world. The Japanese firm had taken it a step further by employing nude interoffice couriers, igniting a heated debate. Yet, as quickly as the incident had captured national headlines, it faded away, and soon companies in Asia, Europe, South America, and North America began adopting variations of this unconventional program.

Amidst this peculiar shift in the corporate landscape, my personal story unfolded. My name is Ronda Sanchez, and just over three years ago, I experienced the devastating loss of my older sister, Nirvana. It was at the tender age of eighteen that she made the life-altering decision to become a mailgirl—a choice that would forever change the course of her existence. I was just entering high school at the time, and I still recall the fervent pleas of my parents, desperately urging Nirvana not to sign any commitment contracts with the Human to Machine Company. Little did we know then that the contract she ultimately signed would bind her for a lifetime—a lifelong purchase agreement that would strip her of her humanity.

During my years in high school, I knew better than to discuss my sister’s metamorphosis with my parents. To broach the subject would be akin to inviting a storm of anger and disappointment. But as I transitioned into adulthood, the burning curiosity within me grew stronger, pushing me to uncover the truth behind my sister’s departure from our home. And so, I embarked on a journey to uncover the circumstances that led to her transformation. What I discovered was a horrifying revelation.

Nirvana had been forced to contort herself into a cramped wooden crate, sealed shut by my parents. The sight of them securing the lid and a group of individuals affixing shipping straps to the crate remains etched in my memory, a haunting image that I can never forget. It was as if she had been reduced to nothing more than a package, a commodity to be transported.

Since that fateful day, my parents have been left in the dark, ignorant of what became of my sister. We received no news, no updates about her well-being or whereabouts. The only glimpse into her new existence came nearly a year after her departure when a letter arrived in our mailbox. It bore the shocking revelation that Nirvana Sanchez was no longer considered human. Instead, she had been transformed into a mere code—S2G34DE7. The letter revealed that she had undergone successful reprogramming and modifications to fit the specific requirements of the Human to Machine Company’s customers.

With this newfound knowledge, I delved deeper into the workings of the company responsible for my sister’s transformation. I discovered the extent to which these mailgirls were modified, tailored to meet the desires and needs of their clients. The company specialized in erasing all memories of their past lives, ensuring a clean slate for their mailgirls. No trace of their previous existence as humans remained. They were known only by a series of eight code names, a combination of letters and numbers. Each mailgirl was branded with a serial number, marking them as property rather than people. Their very identities were stripped away, leaving them devoid of any personal connection or individuality.

But it didn’t stop there. The company went to great lengths to ensure that these mailgirls were fit for purpose. Their bodies were modified, removing all unnecessary components like reproductive organs, which were sold off for profit. In their place, a sophisticated parcel system was installed, complete with secure interoffice parcel tubes that could be remotely controlled. The mailgirls became living packages, ready to be shipped at a moment’s notice, treated to withstand any climate or condition.

Once the conversion process began, the mailgirls would lose all memory of their previous lives. They would wake up, activated as a mailgirl, with no recollection of who they were before. Even the newest additions to their physical forms, like the shipping containers integrated between their legs, were simply accepted as part of their modified existence.

And so, the story of Nirvana Sanchez, now known only as S2G34DE7, begins. Her oldest memory is that of being activated, of awakening as a mailgirl. She knows nothing of her life as a free human, her past erased. As I dig deeper into the world she has become a part of, I can only hope to uncover the truth, find my sister once more, and discover if there is any way to bring her back to the world she left behind—the world of humanity.

As I delved deeper into the grim reality of my sister’s transformation, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, grief, and a burning desire for justice fueled my determination to uncover the truth and confront the sinister forces behind the Human to-Machine Company. The more I learned, the more determined I became to rescue Nirvana from the clutches of her mechanical existence.

In my quest for answers, I stumbled upon a network of underground activists who were fighting against the dehumanizing practices of the Human to Machine Company and similar organizations. They operated in the shadows, challenging the system and advocating for the rights of those who had been transformed into mere commodities. Intrigued by their mission, I reached out to them, hoping to find allies who shared my goal of reclaiming my sister’s humanity.

Through clandestine meetings and encrypted communications, I discovered a hidden world of resistance. These brave individuals, who had witnessed the horrors of the mailgirl program firsthand, provided me with valuable insights and information. They revealed that the modifications inflicted upon the mailgirls went far beyond the physical realm. Their minds were manipulated, their personalities suppressed, and their emotions stifled. It was a chilling realization that these once-vibrant individuals had been reduced to mere vessels of efficiency and obedience.

With the aid of the underground network, I embarked on a perilous journey to locate the facility where Nirvana was held captive. It was a secretive fortress nestled deep within the heart of an industrial district, concealed behind layers of security measures designed to keep prying eyes at bay. But I was determined to infiltrate their stronghold, to confront the heartless executives who had orchestrated the theft of my sister’s humanity.

Under the cover of darkness, armed with forged identities and a determination burning within me, I made my way through the labyrinthine corridors of the facility. Every step brought me closer to the truth, closer to Nirvana. The air was heavy with the hum of machinery, and the flickering fluorescent lights cast eerie shadows on the sterile walls.

Finally, I reached a door marked with a series of digits that matched Nirvana’s code name—S2G34DE7. My heart pounded in my chest as I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the risks and uncertainties that lay beyond. But I knew I couldn’t turn back now. I had come too far to let fear hold me back.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I pushed open the door and stepped into a sterile chamber. And there, before me, stood Nirvana—my sister—transformed into a mechanical entity, her once-vibrant spirit trapped within a shell of steel and circuitry. The sight of her, stripped of her humanity, struck me with a mixture of profound sadness and burning rage.

“Nirvana,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “I’ve come to bring you back.”

But as I reached out to touch her, a blaring alarm pierced the silence, signaling my intrusion. Red lights flashed, and security personnel closed in on us, their cold gazes devoid of any compassion. It became clear that my mission would not be easy, that the fight for Nirvana’s liberation would be fraught with peril and sacrifice.

As I prepared to face the consequences of my audacious act, I clung to the glimmer of hope that still flickered within me. I would not rest until Nirvana, and all those like her were freed from the clutches of this heartless industry. The battle for humanity had only just begun, and I vowed to do whatever it took to reclaim what had been stolen from us—the essence of what it meant to be human.

The security personnel closed in on me, their mechanical precision and unwavering determination sending shivers down my spine. I knew I was outnumbered, and outmatched, but I refused to let fear consume me. I had come too far to back down now.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled energy, I darted past the advancing guards, maneuvering through the maze of sterile corridors with a mix of agility and desperation. The blaring alarms echoed in my ears, urging me to move faster, to evade capture. Every turn, every door I passed, brought me closer to both liberation and danger.

Finally, I reached a door marked “Exit,” the faintest glimmer of hope flickering within me. I pushed through the heavy door, emerging into the cool night air, momentarily free from the confines of the facility. But the taste of freedom was short-lived.

The sprawling compound was surrounded by towering walls topped with razor-sharp wire, a formidable barrier between the world outside and the hidden horrors within. Spotlights swept the perimeter, revealing the intricate security measures designed to keep intruders at bay. My heart sank as I realized the magnitude of the challenge that lay before me.