((JEEZUS CHRIST I FINALLY FINISHED. I've been working overtime on getting this bio done, so please excuse any blatant errors or nasty incongruencies. However, if you wish to obtain my eternal gratitude, or just be a nice person, please notify me of them by PM so I can fix them. The devil's in the details. And OCD. There is so much OCD in the details. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it. Also note that this thread WILL change as time progresses, be it me adding or removing things and such or character development. Thank you, and enjoy.))

BIRTHNAME: Nicholas Burnton (Not publicly known, the name Burnton is instantly recognized by anyone that is a long-time resident of Titan City)
ALIAS(ES): Nicholas Ridley
AGE: 18
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 5'9"
WEIGHT: Currently about 135ish
IDENTIFYING FEATURES: Light green eye color, redheaded, Caucasian, highly intelligent
PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT (If applicable): Currently the CEO of the company known as Candlelight. Widely successful in all aspects of the tech industry. Well-known. To the public and most of the company, the CEO is nearly nonexistant. A corporate council makes most of the decisions for the company, but any and all propositions are run by the head executive before being put into effect.
HISTORY:

-EIGHTTEEN YEARS AGO-

"In today's news, the founder of his own technological empire, Gregori Burnton, had his first and only son, Nicholas Hugh Burnton, but he was born extremely small and premature. Little Nicholas's life is in a very fragile stage at this point, as his health is very shakey and he must be handled with much care. It has been confirmed, however, that a new procedure is going to be tested on young Nick, that will artificially increase his development into a much safer state. It is unknown what specific effects the procedure will have, but Dr. Burnton refuses to shed light on the subject..."

-THREE YEARS LATER-

A resounding yell was heard in the industry mogul's home, not angry, but happy, "Hey, Nickie, c'mere. I wanna show you something." The statement reverberated throughout the house, a strong, but kind voice carrying it down the halls, and into every crevice of the happy home, reaching the ears of a small, three-year-old boy. In an instant, a grin was on the child's face, and he was racing towards the source of the sound.

These words were always associated with joy and wonder, always something new, always something even better than the last. They had always been there, there was no first time he heard them, no beginning, always existing. Nothing compared to the anticipation that came with these words.

When the small boy came down the stairs and around the corner, his father was waiting for him at the kitchen table with a small smile, kind, green eyes following the little rascal. Nick's father had a laptop sitting in front of him on the table.

"Daddy!! Daddy, what is it? What do you wanna show me this time? Is it cooler than the robot dinosaur, Daddy? Or the floaty thing. What was the floaty thing called, again?"

"It was a prototype antigrav generator, Nickie. But this is better than that, and the dinosaur. It's cooler than everything I've ever shown you put together! But I dunno if I can show you, it's some pretty top-secret stuff..." Nick's father, Gregori Burnton, held a small grin on his face, knowing what his son's next question would be.

"Daddy!!! That's not fair!" Nick pouts for a moment, but then an idea appears in his mind. Blackmail. The tool of every small child. "You know Mommy said that it's mean to tease people!! If you don't show me, I'll tell her, I swear!"

Greg chuckles at his son's determination, feigning worry, and raises his hands in front of him in defeat, "Oh, please don't, anyone but her! You can tell the police, the president, or Barney, but please, don't tell Mom! Have mercy on a poor soul, Nickie!"

At his name, Barney, a chocolate-covered Labrador came trotting info the kitchen. He nuzzles way under one of Nick's small arms, and Nick gives him a tight hug around the neck. "Get him, Barney!" The old dog walks over to Gregori, placing his head in the man's lap, begging for attention.

"I think your plan has backfired, bud," The father said with a smile, rubbing the dog's head affectionately. "But if you don't tell Mom about what I did, I'll show you, okay?"

Nick immediately grins, shouldeing Barney out of the way and climbing into his father's lap. Gregori pulled his laptop closer to him, allowing Nick to see the screen in more detail. On the screen, Nick saw something quite strange, something he didn't quite understand, but it was indeed something new.

On the black screen, small, green text rippled and flowed down the screen, all of them changing and never staying the same. They flowed downward in neat, straight columns, and they never seemed to end. Numbers and letters continued to roll down the screen, each visibly affecting the one next to it, and that one affected the ones next to it, and so on. The show on the screen was mezmerizing, and Nick was in a trance.

Greg pointed at the screen, "Do you know what this is, Nickie?"

Nick was taken out if his stupor by his father's question. "No, Daddy. It just looks like a bunch of numbers and letters to me."

"That, little man, is called a sourcecode. Do you remember what I told you that was?"

Nick thinks for a moment, and then smiles and says, "That's a bunch of commands and stuff called code that a computer can understand. But most od the time it's from a different place, and the sourcecode is the basic stuff for the real code."

Gregori smiles with pride, "You're exactly right! But this sourcecode is special. It's the sourcecode for an artificial intelligence. Can you tell me what that is?"

Nick thinks again. Artificial meant made by people, and intelligence meant smartness. "Is it a brain made by people?"

"Right again. But, Nickie, this one...this is the -first!- And guess who made it?"

Nick giggles, "You, Daddy! You're the smartest daddy in the world!"

Gregori laughs, hugging his son. "I dunno about that, kiddo, but I -do- know I made this one. You can even talk to him."

Nick's father leans forward, typing on the keyboard, 'Hello, Luminator.'

The text appears near the top of the screen, and the code nearest it disappears, which causes the code next to that to disappear, and so on, making a ripple effect. A response soon appears on the screen.

'Hello, Mr. Burnton. How are you today?'

Nick looks at his father's greeting. And asks with difficilty, "Daddy, what's a Lum-Limnu-Lomina-"

Gregori smiles, "Luminator. It's the artificial intelligence's name. The Luminator Sourcecode. I call him Lou sometimes."

Nick smiles, "Can I say hi, Daddy? Pleeeeaaaase?"

Greg nods, "Go ahead."

Because tge computer had been left alone for a few moments, sttings of code began to appear here or there, but dissappeared when Nick's small hands manage to type, 'hi I'm nick burnton'

Another response appears quickly. 'Hello Nicholas Burnton, child of Gale and Gregori Burnton, age three, male.'

Nick smiles. "He talks funny, Daddy."

Gregori nods, "He does. It's because he thinks differently than you or I," the father's face becomes serious, "But we don't make fun of him for it, right?"

Nick shakes his head. "Never!"

Nick looks back at the screen. "Daddy, can I talk to him some more? If he's the only computer brain, than he needs a friend to talk to. Right?"

Gregori seems surprised. "Why, I suppose your right." Nick's mother comes down the stairs after this answer, flowing red locks in perfect order even after sleeping. Gregori had no idea how she did it, but it didn't surprise him. That was just Gale for you.

"How are my boys doing this morning?" She said with a small smile.

Nick grins, "Mommy, I get to talk to a computer brain!"

She laughs, but looks at her husband with a raised eyebrow. He mouths silently 'Work.' She nods. Gregori stands, picking up Nickie and placing him on the chair in front of the laptop, scooting him in so he can reach.

Nick begins to type on the computer, a small, friendly little boy, speaking to an intelligent, but young consciousness, a friendship sparked here, but lasting for a lifetime...

-FOUR YEARS LATER-

Nick sat quietly in his room, lying in his bed, typing on a clunky laptop.

'Yeah, he's kind of an idiot. I've tried to tell him to stop or shut up, but he just won't listen.'

As usual, text appeared almost immediately in response to his statement.

'Have you tried telling an adult?'

'Yes, of course. But they don't do anything. He just keeps pestering me. So, I punched him in the face. I didn't know his nose would bleed that much. It was kind of nasty.'

'The nose is a part of the body rich in blood vessels and is situated in a vulnerable position protruding on the face. Trauma to the face can cause nasal injury and bleeding.'

Responses like that were common. He had learned many years ago that Lou was not as smart as him. He was barely as smart as an average person, let alone him. His short term memory was exceptionally terrible. 'Yes, I know that now. Let's just talk about something else. Do you have any questions for me today?'

Code rippled across the screen for a moment. 'Why do humans have lawns? I have noticed that many of your species grow various species of grass in front of their homes for no apparent reason, and they constantly keep it in a state of near-death by trimming most of it's length. I do not understand this, and I am surprised no groups protecting plant rights have gained popularity.'

The Luminator Sourcecode, or Lou, as Nick called him since the name had been chosen, was one of the first, if not first, functional, learning AIs in existance. And yet, he was only used to be a friend of an intelligent young boy. As far as he knew. His father said it was for research, but Nick didn't quite get it.

An AI, just talking to a seven-year-old? He had to admit, it was nice talking to him, he had become a close friend. He could tell him anything, and the AI wouldn't judge him, wouldn't give him advice unless he asked, didn't fawn over him. It was...comforting. As comforting as talking to a stone-cold robot could be, anyway. He had been talking to him for the past four years of his life. Nick responded to it's question.

'It's usually only for aesthetics. I can understand the confusion.'

'But, why is artificial grass used on sports fields? Why not just have soil? Soil is not alive, and it is not even artificial.'

'True. But humans are just weird.'

'Weird - [weerd] -
1. Involving or suggesting the supernatural; unearthly or uncanny: a weird sound; weird lights.
2. Fantastic; bizarre: a weird getup.
3. Archaic. Concerned with or controlling fate or destiny.

Humans do not control destiny, do they?'

Down stairs, a distant yell was heard, "Niiiiick! Come down, please, your father and I want to talk to you."

"Coming Mom!" A cold, sick feeling flushed through his veins for a moment, but then he calmed himself. This was probably about the kid he'd hurt today. He'd been waiting for it all afternoon, like a death row inmate waiting for his number to be called.

'I'll be back in a few minutes. My parents called.'

'Acknowledged.'

Nick left the laptop, and walked downstairs. This wouldn't be pretty. But as he looked at his parents' faces, there was something...different about them.

"Mom? Dad? What's wrong? I know I shouldn't have hit that kid today, but he was being really stupid and he was bullying me, and--"

His father interrupted him. His eyes were like the ones he had after a long day. Tired, old-looking. But this time it was that, times about five, and mixed with something else...sadness? Regret? He couldn't tell. "That wasn't what we wanted to talk to you about."

His parents looked at each other. His mother spoke first. "Listen, Nick. Your father and I have been holding something from over the past few months." She swallowed, giving Nick's father another glance, stepping closer. Her eyes were glistening with held tears, her voice shakey. "Your father...h-has cancer. He only has a few months to live."

Cancer? No, his dad was young, proud, smart. But as he looked at him, his body seemed frail, weak, deflated of self-confidence. "Is it true?"

His father nodded, walking over to his son, placing a hand on his arm, "We didn't tell you before now because the cancer is incurable. I've run the statistics, found the probability..."

No. Dad couldn't have cancer.

"...the cancer is new, and it's just too aggressive. Even the best doctors I could hire said it was impossible...."

No, shut up, Dad, you don't have cancer. You're going to be fine. Tears began to well up in Nick's eyes.

"...I didn't tell you before now because I didn't want you to look at me and only see a countdown until...my time. Nickie--"

All of this information was too much. Hot tears fell from his eyes, and Nick screamed, "SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE FINE!!"

His mother reached to console him, and his father moved to speak, but Nick retreated to one of the only safe places he knew -- his room.

When Nick left, Gale Burnton looked to her husband, sobbing. She clutched onto him, and he cradled her in his arms, rocking back and forth slowly, consoling her in whispers. When the initial wave had passed, she looked at Greg. "Should I go talk to him?" She wiped the tears from her face, a gesture somewhat in vain, but the determination showed in her face.

Greg smiled softly. That was the Gale he knew. He shook his head. "No, I'll go."

Gregori walked up the stairs slowly and arduously. It was harder than it used to be, and getting harder every day. He wondered how long it would be before he would be hospitalized. From what his body was telling him, probably two and a half weeks. Such a short amount of time. He had wanted to spend as much time with his family the normal way, before things got too bad. He had only wanted that.

Once he reached Nick's door, he took a deep breath, and entered, slowly cracking the door open. He heard Nick before he saw him. He was cowered in a corner, the covers from his bed haphazardly dragged over to the corner and rasped over him, in some meager effort to protect himself.

The laptop lay sprawled on the floor, having fallen off in the struggle of boy vs furniture. It had been turned off in the scuffle. He closed it, and set it on Nick's desk, and walked over, sitting down near Nick, and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. The boy did not hesitate, in fact he embraced his father, gripping him with all his might. Not even that love could hold him in this place, Greg thought to himself...

-THREE MONTHS LATER-

Nick sat beside his father's bed, the only sound the mechanical beeping and whirring of medical equipment. Or, what remained of his father.

He was now no more than skin, bones, and drugs. The painkillers were so strong that he was never even really Nick's father anymore. Only a shell. As if, his mind had died before his body had.

Nick had become numb. He did not sleep. He did not think. He didn't speak to what few friends he had. He lost all interest in school and learning, which had previously been his favorite thing in the world. He didn't play video games. He just sat in his room. And sometimes, if he was lucky, he cried.

Nick's mother had become worried, as mothers do. The stress caused frequent shouting matches between them. They all ended being about his dad.

Gale Burnton took her son by the hospital every day. They often slept there, right in his father's room.

Or rather, Nick's mother slept. He did not. He sometimes wandered the halls of the place, but always came back to his father's room every hour or so. Just to check. Just in case Dad was awake.

He never was.

But, today, was a different day. Nick could feel it. He just somehow...knew. After waiting for something long enough, you know the day that it will happen. You can feel it.

His mother and he arrived at the hospital around six, at their usual time, and as they walked in, a doctor was waiting. This was never a good sign. "Nick, stay here. I'm going to go talk to that doctor."

Mom always had a hopeful look in her eyes when she spoke to one of Dad's doctors. Maybe she hoped a mysterious 'new procedure' would crop up, or maybe she hoped he would somehow just get better. Nick didn't know. He didn't really understand how she had kept her hope after all this time. Nick had given up a long time ago.

When the doctor finished speaking with her, she walked back to Nick, her already red and puffy eyes tearing up again. She said quietly, taking his hand, "Today's the day."

They walked in silence, and it seemed as if the entire hospital was already in mourning. There were none of the usual hushed whispers, no rattle as carts were pushed down hallways, there was only the lone beeping of his Gregori Burnton's heart rate monitor.

When they entered his room, everything was the same. There was no sense of finality. No ending credits, no sequels. It was just one man, and his family.

Nick did not leave his father's room that night. He just sat. And waited. For five hours, he waited.

His mother was asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. She attempted to stay awake, but had failed.

At what seemed like any other moment, his father awoke. He had woken before, but often spoke gibberish, or screamed at them or the nurses. But his eyes, this time. They were like they were when he was little. In a frail, wheezing voice, his father spoke, "Nickie...c'mere...I wanna...show you...summin..."

Nick stood, walking over, silently, expecting to be screamed at again.

Instead, he spoke a faint whisper, Nick having to lean to hear it. "Play the man...Master Ridley...we shall this day light such a candle...by God's grace...in the world...that I trust shall never, ever be put out."

Nick had no idea what this statement meant. And he had no idea that years later would he use that statement as a drive for everything he did. This was his father's last piece of advice, last lesson.

Nick woke his mother, and told her what had happened and what he had said. As soon as he finished speaking, the unmistakable sound of a heart flatlining through a heart rate minuter is heard. His mother jumps up, and runs to his side.

Doctors come and go. Nick and his mother eventually leave. They get home. His mother goes to her room, and he to his, as they had done every day for the past months.

But the words his father spoke rang around in his head.

It was 1:27 on Tuesday when Gregori Burnton, head of a multimillion dollar tech company, died.

-FOLLOWING WEEK-

As Nick came downstairs for a rare breakfast from a night of sleep better than he has gotten months, there was a knock at the door. Nick walked silently to it, and opened the door, blinded by the sun's morning light. He said sleepily, "Hello?"

There were three men standing in front of him...two in labcoats, another in...what was he wearing? It looked like metal armor or something, but that wasn't right. As far as he knew, no scientist wore metal armor.

He heard his name, "Nick, we worked with your father on the Luminator Project. Do you remember that?"

Nick nodded vaguely, still half asleep. Why did that sound familiar? Maybe he'd heard Dad talking about it or something.

"This is Lou. He's your friend. Do you remember that?"

Nick's eyes came into focus. The metal man was actually that -- a dark, steel-hued robot that wasn't much more than a vaguely human skeleton and a pair of glowing, red eyes.

"Hello, Master Burnton." Nick couldn't tell where the voice was coming from, as it had no mouth, but it was clearly from the robot in front of him.

"H-hi, Lou...I've...missed you..."

Nick, utterly confounded, allowed the men into his home. Lou ducked slightly to enter the door.

Nick's mother was drinking a glass of water when they entered the kitchen, which she promptly dropped at the sight of the Luminator One. Nick's mother was a strkng woman, but she could never get used to the things that came from her husband's mind.

And it turned out Lou was exactly that. He had been created before Gregori had fallen ill, and the people that had worked with his father had finished he project. Even a week after his death, Nick's father was still teaching him.

The men wanted us to have Lou, as he had always been my friend anyway, and because Dad had sent them a letter before he had been totally drugged up in the hospital. They apologized for the letter's delay, as it was supposed to have arrived right before his death, but they had brought the letter with them.

To the Candlelight Staff, with an afterword for my son,

I graciously thank all of you for you for your service to my company. It has been a wonderful journey, from the first few employees from college, to the huge breakthrough a few years ago with creation of our own brand of computers, Televisions, video games, cell phones, and even calculators. We are even branching out to the military as I write this letter.

This company has come such a long way, and it will not stop at my death. I have chosen a group of my best corporate officials to take part in a council that will choose how the company fares until its true owner, my son, comes of age.

It is up to my son how the company will fare. I have taught him all I know, and I must admit that he has taught me as well. He will be much smarter than I have ever hoped to be, and I hope you will accept him with open arms.

Afterword

Nick, son, I love you. More than you could ever know. You don't know how much I've dreamt about showing you how to run my business -- well, -your- business, now -- and how much I hate leaving you like this. The last few days, all I've thought about is what I'll be missing. Far too many to count. But I do want to leave you with something more than just money, or a corporation, or anything like that.

When I was diagnosed, I started the Luminator project. It was to create a body for the artificial intelligence you've known for so long. See, Nickie? I left you a friend. Someone to guide and teach you for me.

Now I know you probably won't speak to him while I'm sick, and I've spoken to him about it, and he understands.

And Nickie, I wanted to leave you with a quote. A little something I learned in college, that I named our company after. It was spoken by one man to another, as they were dying by burning at the stake, in England. It goes like this...

"Play the man. Master Ridley, we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in the world, that I trust shall never, ever be put out."

Nick reread it, and reread it again. All of a sudden, tears began to well into his eyes, and Nick jumped up, and hugged the Luminator around the waist, speaking quietly to no one in particular, "Thank you, Daddy..."

-PRESENT DAY-

Nicholas Burnton to his company, Nick Ridley to his friends, he now roams about the City of Titans, searching for answers to his never-ending questions.

After a few new people, Nick has quickly adopted a small group as his family. Anyone who hurts his friends or stands in his way, beware. For there is a light on the horizon...