Q: In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
An accident at the beach left Ian Burkhart paralyzed. Now, the 23-year-old Ohio man is trying to become the first person to move his hand using thoughts and technology. (Lee Powell/The Washington Post) 
  
 An accident at the beach left Ian Burkhart paralyzed. Now, the 23-year-old Ohio man is trying to become the first person to move his hand using thoughts and technology. (Lee Powell/The Washington Post) 
  
 First they screwed the end of the gray cord into the metal silo rising out of Ian Burkhart’s skull. Later they laid his right forearm across two foam cylinders, and they wrapped it with thin strips that looked like film from an old home movie camera. They ran him through some practice drills, and then it was time for him to try. 
  
 If he succeeded at this next task, it would be science fiction come true: His thoughts would bypass his broken spinal cord. With the help of an algorithm and some electrodes, he would move his once-dead limb again — a scientific first. 
  
 “Ready?” the young engineer, Nick Annetta, asked from the computer to his left. 
  
 “Three. Two. One.” 
  
 Burkhart, 23, marshaled every neuron he could muster, and he thought about his hand. 
  
 1 of 14 Full Screen Autoplay Close Skip Ad × A bionic future beckons View Photos Ian Burkhart has a chip implanted in his brain and, combined with electrodes and a computer, researchers at Ohio State University’s Wexner Medical Center are testing a new technique to restore motion to his paralyzed hand. Caption Ian Burkhart has a chip implanted in his brain and, combined with electrodes and a computer, researchers at Ohio State University’s Wexner Medical Center are testing a new technique to restore motion to his paralyzed hand. June 18, 2014 Ian Burkhart, left, shares a laugh with Nick Annetta, an electrical engineer with the nonprofit research organization Battelle, in a room at Ohio State University’s Wexner Medical Center in Columbus on June 18, 2014. Annetta helped design the system allowing movement of Burkhart’s paralyzed hand. Lee Powell/The Washington Post Buy Photo Wait 1 second to continue. 
  
 The last time the hand obeyed him, it was 2010 and Burkhart was running into the Atlantic Ocean. 
  
 The hand had gripped the steering wheel as he drove the van from Ohio University to North Carolina’s Outer Banks, where he and friends were celebrating the end of freshman year. 
  
 The hand unclenched to drop his towel on the sand. Burkhart splashed into the waves, the hand flying above his head, the ocean warm around his feet, the sun roasting his arms, and he dived. 
  
 In an instant, he felt nothing. Not his hand. Not his legs. Only the breeze drying the saltwater on his face. 
  
 His friends had saved him from drowning. A helicopter carried him to a hospital. He learned that he had smashed into a sandbar, hidden by the waves, and broken his neck. He rehabbed at a special facility in Atlanta. He returned home to the Columbus suburbs, unable to move anything below his elbows. 
  
 He lived in his father and stepmother’s basement. He needed help with almost everything. Showering took hours, with assistance. When it was time to eat, family members strapped a fork to his limp hand; using his shoulders and elbows, he could spear bites. The night before the doctors strapped Burkhart’s arm into an electrode sleeve, before he tried to make that hand move again, he had to call his dad to come turn him from his side to his back so he could sleep. 
  
 His doctors said he signed up for this experiment — for elective brain surgery — because he hoped, someday, if the technology could get there, to ease his parents’ burden in caring for him. 
  
 “I’d say that the thing I miss most is just being independent,” Burkhart said in April, shortly before doctors implanted a chip in his brain. “You have to rely on other people so much. 
  
 “It would really be nice,” he added, “to just do something as simple as open up a water bottle myself.” 
  
 The next day, doctors opened Burkhart’s skull. They crowned his head with a small metal cylinder, attached to bone by screws, and ran a wire between it and the chip they stuck like Velcro to his brain. 
  
 The wound healed nicely, though Burkhart’s head hurt a lot, especially when, in the days after the operation, his hospital wing decided it was a good time to test its fire alarms. Burkhart finished his finals at Ohio State University, where he had enrolled after the accident. He helped coach the lacrosse team at his old high school — where he had been a standout goalie — to the state finals. 
  
 Three times a week, he rolled his wheelchair up to a computer monitor and allowed scientists from Battelle, a nonprofit research organization that invented the technology they hoped would let him move his hand with his thoughts again, to plug into his brain. Together, they practiced. He would watch a digital hand move on the screen, and he would think about moving his hand the same way. The computer would read his thoughts and move a second, animated hand at his direction. 
  
 Finally, last Wednesday, four years and a week since he lost command of the hand, it was time to try for real. 
  
 Burkhart rolled his electric wheelchair into a narrow room at Ohio State’s Wexner Medical Center in Columbus. He wore a green T-shirt over a white T-shirt. His father had shaved his head that morning with electric clippers. The round port stuck awkwardly out of it. When they plugged the cord in, he looked like Neo, the Keanu Reeves character from “The Matrix” movies. 
  
 When the time came to start the attempt, the room was packed with several journalists, at least seven cameras, two Battelle engineers (Annetta and Chad Bouton, the project leader), two doctors (Ali Rezai, who had performed the brain surgery, and Jerry Mysiw, the rehab specialist who recruited Burkhart to the project) and Burkhart’s father, Doug. 
  
 The doctors knew the chip was in the right place to pick up the brain signals. The engineers knew their algorithm was translating his thoughts to movements. They believed the film strips strapped around his forearm, which they called a sleeve, would stimulate his muscles to make those movements a physical reality. The big variable was Ian Burkhart: Could he will his hand to move? 
  
 “He’s got to focus on the task,” Rezai, the surgeon, said. “Imagine the task.” 
  
 They started with the drills Burkhart had done for weeks, moving the animated hand on the screen with his thoughts. He repeated the sequence several times. “Both Ian and the computer are learning at the same time,” Bouton said. 
  
 The last drill ended. “Awesome job,” Annetta told Burkhart. 
  
 And then it was time. 
  
 Before Burkhart’s surgery, Bouton had talked about this day, and his hopes for it, which boiled down to one finger. They hoped Burkhart could move one finger. Now the day had come, and Bouton was more ambitious. He wanted Burkhart to do something that would be a building block — a movement that could lead to him eating or brushing his teeth, someday, by himself. 
  
 “We’re going to see if Ian can open and close his own hand,” Bouton told the cameras. To Burk­hart, he added: “No pressure.” 
  
 Annetta counted down from three. 
  
 Ian Burkhart thought about his hand. “You really have to zone everything else out,” he would say later, “and focus on that movement.” 
  
 At 2:58 p.m., his fingers quivered. His hand opened. Not all the way, but it opened. 
  
 A moment later, he balled his hand into a fist, and he curled the fist toward himself, like a weightlifter doing curls. 
  
 Again and again, he balled his hand and curled his fist. 
  
 “What do you think?” Bouton asked Ian’s father. 
  
 “Pretty cool,” he replied. 
  
 Ian Burkhart smiled. 
  
 Later, the doctors and engineers would talk about the possibilities now seemingly open to them, in the bionic future they had just ushered in. They talked of sleeves that would slide over paralyzed limbs, headbands that would do the work of a brain chip, cellphones that would do what the computer did now. That’s all far away; Burkhart would unplug and go home and be stuck with a body that still didn’t follow his orders, at least not yet. 
  
 “It’s not a matter of if” he would get movement back in his limbs, Burkhart would say. “It’s a matter of when.” 
  
 Mysiw said most of his patients spend at least some part of every day asking whether it would have been better if they had just died in their accidents. Most of them, but not Burkhart. “What drove him” to volunteer for this, Mysiw said, “was the need to contribute.” 
  
 With the sleeve strapped on, Burkhart trilled his fingers. He opened his hand wide. He curled his wrist some more. 
  
 His last task was a spoon. A first step toward feeding himself. Bouton placed it next to Burk­hart’s hand on the table. 
  
 There was no practice, no visualization. Burkhart grabbed the spoon by the handle, flipped his hand over and held on for a beat. 
  
 Then he dropped it, like a towel on the sand. ||||| Screenshot by Michelle Starr/CNET 
  
 Ian Burkhart, a 23-year-old quadriplegic from Dublin, Ohio, was injured in 2010 in a diving accident, breaking his neck on a sandbar and paralysing his body from the neck down. He has some use of his arms, but was left unable to move his legs, hands and fingers. 
  
 Thanks to a new device known as the Neurobridge, though, Burkhart has now moved his right hand and fingers for the first time since the accident -- signalling a brighter future for paralysis patients. 
  
 Neurobridge, a collaborative project developed by The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center and applied science development non-profit Battelle, is a system that allows the brain signal to bypass the site of injury -- in Burkhart's case, his spinal cord -- sending it directly to the muscle. 
  
 Two months ago, neurosurgeon Dr Ali Rezai of Ohio State University performed brain surgery on Burkhart, implanting a sensor chip smaller than a pea into the motor cortex of his brain. This chip reads and interprets the electrical activity in Burkhart's brain, sending it to a computer. 
  
 The computer then recodes the signal, and sends it to a high-definition electrode stimulation sleeve Burkhart wears on his right arm, a process that takes less than a tenth of a second and allows Burkhart to move his paralysed digits. 
  
 "The surgery required the precise implantation of the micro-chip sensor in the area of Ian's brain that controls his arm and hand movements," Dr Rezai said. 
  
 A team led by Chad Bouton at Battelle spent nearly a decade developing the algorithms, software and sleeve. Two years ago, Dr Ali Rezai and Dr Jerry Mysiw were brought on board to design the clinical trials. 
  
 "I've been doing rehabilitation for a lot of years, and this is a tremendous stride forward in what we can offer these people," said Dr Mysiw. "Now we're examining human-machine interfaces and interactions, and how that type of technology can help." 
  
 Burkhart, a former lacrosse player, was the first of five potential patients in a clinical study of the technology. 
  
 "It's definitely great for me to be as young as I am when I was injured because the advancements in science and technology are growing rapidly and they're only going to continue to increase," Burkhart said. |||||
A:
It is, as the Washington Post writes, "science fiction come true": A 23-year-old quadriplegic managed to move his right hand last Wednesday, a hand that he'd had no power over since he broke his neck after diving into a sandbar in the Atlantic Ocean in 2010. Since then, Ian Burkhart has been living in his father and stepmother's Columbus, Ohio-area basement, where he's able to feed himself using his shoulders and elbows, which he still has some use of—after a family member affixes a fork to his powerless hand. In a bid to ease such reliance, in April Burkhart let doctors open his skull, implant a chip in his brain's motor cortex, and run a wire from it to a small metal cylinder that was fastened to his bone using screws. Then came the practice: Roughly every other day since then he's worked with scientists from Battelle, a nonprofit research group, observing a digital hand moving across a screen and thinking hard about imitating the motion. Battelle's technology, dubbed Neurobridge, allows a brain signal to bypass Burkhart's injured spinal cord and, in a tenth of a second, go directly to an electrode-packed sleeve on his arm, CNET explains. Last week came the big try: A gray computer cord was connected to the metal cylinder, his right forearm was encircled that sleeve, and Burkhart imagined opening and closing his hand—a movement that could one day allow him to feed himself. The hand opened (not fully), then closed, an action he repeated over and over. And then he managed to grab and hold a spoon ... for a moment. (Last year, scientists scored a breakthrough with paralyzed rats.)