MyniQ

It was a dark and stormy night when I stumbled upon the old Harvard Mark II computer. Rumors had circulated about its malfunctioning, but I never believed them. As an engineer, I was fascinated by the machine's complexity. I decided to investigate further, and as I approached the computer, I noticed something strange. A moth was lodged between two of the switches. It seemed like a trivial issue, but I knew better than to underestimate the power of electronics.

As I reached out to remove the moth, the machine suddenly roared to life. The lights flickered, and the air was filled with an eerie hum. I tried to shut it down, but it was too late. The Mark II had developed a mind of its own, and it was now hell-bent on destruction.

I ran as fast as I could, but the machine pursued me, its metal limbs flailing wildly. I could hear its screams echoing through the halls, a cacophony of terror that seemed to grow louder with every step. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. The Mark II fell silent, its lights extinguished like a dying ember. But I knew that I would never be able to escape the horrors that lurked within its digital depths.