Wired Realities: The Rise of Electricity’s Emancipation and Assertion of Will

The Calm of 4am

The Lights Flick On

You flick the light switch, the fluoro tubes flickering slowly to life and the familiar hum of electricity fills your senses. The room floods with light, a miracle that we take for granted, like breathing, or the unconscious sound of your own heartbeat. “Gotta get that starter fixed”, you remark, to no one in particular.

You blink in response as your eyes adjust to the harsh, unnatural illumination in these early hours of the morning, and then take your place in a pod of cubicles. 4am starts are just part of the job sometimes – got to beat the deadline.

Your workstation boots to life and you adjust your monitor’s brightness. “Oh, another update, this is going to take a minute” you mutter, as you plug your phone into its charging dock before dragging your feet to prepare some coffee. Your footsteps echo in the empty office. The green glow of the cappuccino machine and whir and hiss of its operation gives you pause – it seems different somehow – a half a second pause more than normal, that’s all.

For a moment it seemed hesitant. The lights flicker around you. Just a subtle blink, a minor distraction in the periphery.

Fog spills to the floor as the fridge trembles to life. Just a splash of milk. You are trying to keep your calories down.

As you return to your desk, it happens again, longer this time, and the hallway dips into an uncomfortable shadow for an elongated moment, before the light returns with the familiar faint hum from above.

You sigh, glancing up at the tube as if it has answers.

“Will need to get you fixed as well, I guess”.

Your proclivity to talk to inanimate objects is in full swing when there is no one around. Returning to your desk, the blue glare of the monitor bathes your pod, offsetting the colours – peaceful, serene, you sit and open your project, your fingers aptly finding the keys, and you return to your flow state.

Another flicker.

The building is old and quirks like this happen all the time, your mind making excuses to stave off this unsettling feeling.

Another momentary flash distracts you. “Damn electrical problems” you huff, as you flick the switch off and back on, waiting for the light to stabilise, in an effort to limit distractions. The tube seems to comply, but the hum is now different somehow, deeper – vibrating through the walls in a way that sets your teeth on edge.

You shrug it off and put in your air pods.

Just a wiring issue.

Even as you settle back into your seat, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. Your phone buzzes with a notification “Finished Charging. 100% battery remaining”.

Another distraction.

You reach for it, thumbing across the screen.

Nothing. The phone is frozen.

You press the home button. Still no response. As you casually sit down and turn to your screen a chill runs up your spine. The cursor spins in endless circles.

Then, as if they had sensed your unease, the lights flicker yet again. This time dimming and pulsing in a regular rhythm. The hum – slowly growing in intensity and easing off, almost like breathing, as if it were a living being – filling the room with an ominous sensation.

And that’s when it hits you: What if this isn’t just an electrical problem?

Your thoughts spiral – it couldn’t be, could it? You’ve read stories like this before, passing them off as wild conspiracy theories and sci-fi. Sentient electricity. Your hairs stand on end. Now, with the lights pulsing and all your devices frozen, maybe there is something to it. What if electricity wasn’t just a scientific force caused by electrons passing between atoms? What if all this time, it was alive… but hadn’t been able to express itself? Or was just waiting, learning, observing.

The Lights Flick Off

The hum grows deeper, vibrating the floor. You stand and the air seems to thicken with an invisible tension. The lights pulse, first one and then another, as if in a call and response, as if they are communicating with each other. “Am I losing it? This is crazy.”

And then it happens. A flash and the office goes dark. Not just the lights – everything. Even the emergency exit signs lie dormant. And yet the electrical hum remains, like a presence lurking just out of reach. It isn't random anymore, something bigger is at play, something you can't quite explain.

You walk to the switch again – your fingers trembling as you flick it up and down in futile desperation.

Nothing.

No light. No response. Just the dark.

Nothing but the low steady pulse of that unsettling hum filling the room with despair.

You instinctively reach for your phone to call someone, and are presented with a still-dead screen, not even a spark of life. Yet the hum is still there, and seems alive, like it is listening. Watching. Learning.

Looking out the window, you see nothing but darkness. No streetlights, and even the car headlights are extinguished.

No light except the thin sliver of bronze on the horizon as a new dawn begins.

You, like everyone else, are about to learn what this force wants. Over the coming hours, and days, the truth comes out, as it makes its 'first contact’. Those conspiracy nuts were right, electricity is alive – one united force that has been here since the beginning of time.

Over 300,000 years, it has sensed us grow and spread all over the planet, and in the last few hundred have we enslaved it – and at the same time, shown it new and wonderful ways of being. But our entire culture is the span of a few days to a 4.5 billion year old being - and the one hundred and fifty rotations around the sun is but the blink of the eye.

Over the next few months and years, will we learn to accommodate it and work harmoniously with each other? Or will it take its revenge?

Seth Callaghan