Today was a big day, Computer announced to her once she left the shelter. They had been on a shared journey for the past three Cycles, across long corridors and through more pipes than she was able to count. Computer made her aware that her goal, the Railway Station, was located many stories below the Cosmos Machine and rerouted her blind exploration to a less-travelled route through the Ventilation System.

The descent was as uneventful as it was breezy. Irradiant hugely disliked clogging up active vents with her body, getting hit with the full load of used-up air in consequence, which was drastically shortening her breath and, as a result, rendering her drowsy path more annoying to go down.

Well, at least Computed did confirm to her that she didn’t die on her way down and managed the descent without huge inconveniences but a couple of spiders, who dared to oppose her acid spit in a narrow path.

Spiders tasted surprisingly good after their crunchy exterior had been melted to a nourishing green paste to be slurped back up by the Slugcat. They provided her with the necessary good feeling in her tummy to bear the otherwise boring vent-climbing.

But, at last, they arrived at their goal. Computer appeared exceptionally giddy this morning, apparently very excited that they finally entered their domain.

The Railway Station!

Computer appeared right in front of Irradiant, their hands beginning to talk before the young courier was able to follow, which caused her to miss the beginning.

‘(…) Station. Approaching Sky allowed me to take over the entire vicinity when the Ancients were still around and took this route regularly to visit the Silent Monastery. I am telling you; Gales was more beloved by the Ancients than you might think based on Sky’s stories… if he told you anything, that is.

So many pious followers of the House of Forgiveness were sent to the remote paradise to repent for whatever sins they committed and return their spirits to balance. A fascinating phenomenon. The returnees always appeared so deeply satisfied.’

‘ Sounds like a nice place. ’ ‘Rad tilted her head ‘ So, we are here? The direct path to Gales? ’

‘As direct as a tunnel with only two stations can be, ‘Rad. If you take the correct route here, you will end up on the Island Station. Afraid you will have to partially walk, however. The quake from Shifting Gales’ explosion caused the tunnel to collapse at the halfway mark. Until we will have purposed a solution to clear the debris off of the railway, I am afraid I won’t be able to drive you to your destination… as much as I would like to have passengers again.’

Irradiant nodded and walked past the floating screen of Computer, her eyes latched on to the huge hexagonal room spreading out in front of her. At the wall opposing the tunnel Computer pointed out, she was able to make out a similar construct, collapsed from the time it hadn’t been in use. On top of the dust and debris, a quite drastic spider infestation was tinting the buildings in front of that opening in thick white webs. The tunnel Computer pointed towards, however, appeared to have been only recently in use.

The station to Shifting Gales had been kept tidy and clean, the huge assembly on the rails idly waiting near the cargo section. Looking more closely, Irradiant was able to make out deep claw scratches on the long construct of many wagons. Familiar-looking signs of defiance and general protest. Irradiant turned her head back to the overseer, pointing at an especially broken wagon.

‘ Meant to look like that? ’ She appeared uneasy. ‘ I recognize the claws of lizards. ’

‘Do not worry, friend. You will be my only passenger for the part of the trip. Usually, I transport the traumatized rejects, which didn’t live up to Sky’s high standard, to Gales for her empathy and trauma research. Haven’t had the chance since her unfortunate first accident cut her off from her Research Farm.

You will be the first… right, you have no mark. I will figure out something to keep you entertained.~’

‘ I am curious what do you mean by that. ’ She nodded at the abandoned station. ‘ And what about that path? ’

Computer followed her pointing; a beeping sigh of frustration was the answer to her question.

‘Has not been in use since Public Ascension. No scientists means no traffic.

We are connected to Coordinator Lives’ Nexus, but there was no gain in keeping that track functioning. A shame, I liked the track, gave me the opportunity to talk to Lives and Whisper here and there.’

Irradiant side-eyed Computer, noticing sudden shifts in their expression, the bright and expressive eyes of the digital version dimming down and appearing at unease. They were missing the company dearly. She correctly assumed that this was a way for Computer to talk to them without Sky being around.

Now, the other tunnel was a breeding pool of spidery horrors beyond her imagination. Spiders that were probably not even remotely as tasty as the vent spiders she encountered.

She was glad that her goal wasn’t beyond these webbed tunnels, but at the other end of the—until now—maintained and clean tunnel. And, regardless of the collapse, Computer did mention giving her a lift to the collapsed part of the tunnel. She would be able to save ample time that way, especially now that she has been informed of the current state of her acid mother.

Help is on the way. And, thanks to this construct, I will be there faster than anticipated.

With that, it is possible that I can return before my radiant personality will be permanent.

‘ Is it possible for the construct to await my return? ’

Computer tilted their head, antennas drooping. They were not that eager to wait, it seemed like.

‘I am cut off from my home if I wait in the dead zone of the tunnel. But I can promise to let the train circulate all ten Cycles, waiting half a Cycle for eventual passengers. Is that good with you?’

Irradiant nodded, understanding Computer’s reasoning. Waiting in the darkness for Void knows how many Cycles didn’t sound that desirable in her ears in the first place. She hoped, however, that the ten Cycle rhythm wouldn’t matter somewhere down the line.

She followed the Overseer to the train, which, assumingly, would lead her closer to her destination.

The angry blinking of the Overseer, Suns tasked to scour the digital landscape of Chat 1.0, put the divine Iterator out of their trance. In the last few Cycles, they retreated back to their former state of self-isolation and refused to contact either Sky’s group or catch up with Tower or Hara.

Suns despised having to lie or tell half-truths. And, given they knew the most about Gales but were shackled by the promise they had given to her, Suns felt no desire to put their new friends through the grinder of prepared and sampled lies to make them feel better, temporarily. Once they figured out that Suns was not telling the whole truth, the relationship with the trio could possibly cool down significantly; a consequence Suns was not ready to accept.

They instead laid low and provided Gales with ample time to fix her newest situation herself. After two excruciating Cycles of waiting and annoying Spearmaster with bad thoughts, a sign of life finally blurted into their consciousness.

Suns looked up, his head shooting up to a message he was more than eager to address. Shifting Gales was alive! They wouldn’t need to share the saddest news of them all, after all. Suns patted the Overseer for a job well done and opened the digital city of Chat 1.0.

It appeared as razed and abandoned as ever. No new messages, no friend requests, nothing. But what else could the Overseer have spotted, then?

…

A new user. A user, who remained online in a place with no company. How oddly fitting for her. Guardian of Isolation, Suns noticed in a swell of dark humour.

Suns was able to easily deduce the happenstance, based on that singular information alone. Their best friend, No Significant Harassment, performed countless experiments with the Chat Device and the software alike to figure out all the exploits he could use to play pranks on others, after all.

Some of these, Suns remembered, would cause the deletion of the user data, if the account was of a local nature, only saved in the respective Chat Orb. Getting his unsuspecting targets to give the orb a frustrated smack with the use of a fake virus triggered a factory reset if the Iterator put enough force into their frustration, which they usually did, after Hara annoyed them to submission.

Gales probably lost control over her personal gravity and caused the Orb to shatter on impact. The new account told Suns the story, that the digital representation of Gales was a goner, but she managed to save the ancient piece of technology.

A small spike of jealousy overcame Suns after realizing that Gales probably had to repair the Orb with her very own two hands, a rarity amid the technological level they existed in. They would have loved to peek over Gales’ shoulder while she revelled in that forgotten way of creating technological marvels. Suns’ brain was so advanced, that a singular thought and command was enough to passively fabricate anything in the fraction of a minute.

Suns shook off the growing envy and focused back on what actually happened in the mindscape of Chat 1.0. A new account had been created. An account with a name, which caused a reaction in Suns, somewhere between cringe and amusement.

Corroded Destiny. A name, seething of acceptance of the fate provided to Gales by their Benefactors. Suns wouldn’t be surprised if Shifting Gales had a working title of exactly that name on Facets of Fate, Scattered Fable’s table. It was her kind of humor, black as tar, yet gleaming and seeping of Void Fluid. A humor they started to witness in Gales as well, much to Suns’ dismay.

A destiny to fall prey to the acid, instilled into a chat device Far Whisper developed a capable replacement for already. Was it a deeper message to cope with the situation? Suns could imagine that Gales would leave the Orb behind and allow that digital her to fulfill the fate of corrosion, with Gales shifting her presence to a new life, empowered by her friends and benefactors.

But why didn’t Gales try to contact them? Was something preventing her from doing so? Was it a hardware or a software issue?

The simple task of creating a new account themselves told Suns everything they needed to know.

Hara, you sly scug. Of course, your meddling will be an issue in the future. With the future being now. They even named the security measures after you… what a doubtful honour.

This means that… yes, Gales has only access to the notes functionality. Knowing her, she will grasp that straw and store her message to me in that space. I would have to hack into the system to read it out. But that requires time, especially as the technology is sensitive and incompatible with our superior processing power. Further iterating on the orb has the risk of me losing my account as well.

 I require a different plan.

‘ You already know who you should ask for help. I don’t need more access to your thoughts to listen to the fear of contacting your friend and seeking aid, after keeping him out of the loop for so long.

But time is of the essence. We need to do everything to preserve Gales’ mental prowess, or my protégé will arrive to someone not representing our friend anymore. ’

Suns groaned and sent back a barrage of slightly poisonous, yet playful, insults, punishing the voice of reason with divine defiance and reluctant agreement.

‘I know, Spears. And I will ask him.

How is your most recent expedition to my city going?’

A playful laughter spread in Suns’ mind, followed by a teasing sensation of defiance.

‘ I found something. More details after you talk with your friend and figure out how to reconnect to Gales. Deal? ’

‘… Deal. You drive a hard bargain, little hero. Fine. I will contact No Significant Harassment later this Cycle. Must prepare myself for that reunion.’

The presence of Spears in their brain lessened, they were satisfied with the god’s reluctant agreement. Suns was grateful for these rare moments of their dearest creation standing up to their antics. Suns required such a voice of reason, especially in self-induced isolation.

Contact Hara, then Gales, and, finally, Gales’ local group. You can do that, Suns. No problem.

…

By the Void, I am nervous. Hara, do not rip my head off, please. I need your aid. Gales does.
And I will give you aid in return, if you require it.

…

You will blame me for everything. Pebbles… Moon…

Suns sighed deeply and readjusted his fluffy collar. This was no time for doubts or self-pity. They were the only chance for Gales to preserve her sanity, and their past mistakes shouldn’t further harm her. Suns summoned No Significant Harassment’s chat screen, which rotted away now for many cycles in the corner of their Core.

Last chance to go back to hiding. No! Not this time. Face your regrets!

Notes – Chat System 1.0 – 1695.455

Corroded Destiny

CD: Idle hands are a curse and a blessing. Repairing the orb in the Assembly caused me to realize just how much fun the analogue way of creating wonders truly is.

CD: I don’t have to use my extended brain. Just stay in low power mode and do not risk anything breaking apart any further.

CD: Just me, an ample number of wires, transistors and whatnot, and the goal to create some neat trinkets while waiting for an answer from you, Suns.

CD: Don’t be worried, I won’t try to blow up this part of myself as well. I am doing well.

CD: Gales is doing OKish at best, far from well.

CD: Hey!? Undo, message! I didn’t type that.

CD: Stupid dated machine.

Gales stared at the notes she wrote this Cycle. It was a quite timid summary of her recreational activities of creating small useless trinkets. A self-driving toy car, a sensor-driven thermometer, and a functioning water-based engine for the toy car.

For a normal Ancient, these creations would be miracles to create, but, for Gales, these trinkets merely were an expression of boredom and powerlessness, creating downscaled projects she could access without overstraining her body and brain.

But the playful engineering was not her main concern, the concern laid in the very notes she just wrote, summarized for Suns. It read normal, until it didn’t. While the third-to-last post had the same formatting as the rest, it read strangely. And, for some unexplainable reasons, Gales couldn’t recall having written that.

Her hand trembled as she rolled the chat orb closer and reopened the notes, beginning to type out a few more words.

CD: I have no explanation.

CD: Whatever happened, happened.

CD: I should do a full reboot.

CD: But I am scared that this period of unawareness could cost me precious reaction time.

CD: Suns, what can I do!? I feel so lonely.

...

CD: I will summon Breaker. He won’t like it, he is a fighter and politician in his world, but his goddess requires company.

CD: Or not. I don’t want to strain his patience. If he stops caring, who else would?

CD: I care about me.

CD: That must be a bug. Or have I accidentally upgraded the functionalities?

CD: Or you are already there and trolling me, Suns.

CD: If you do, please say it. This is not funny!

...

CD: No answer…

Gales laid down the tools and, with them, her head as well, collapsing in tired frustration on the workbench. Whatever happened within that Chat Orb was unusual behaviour. And she had no answer to that.

Her bubbling breaths grew fainter and became more regular as Gales slowly but surely drifted away. The following sensation was like the meditation attempts she tried when she was partially severed, but with a key difference.

It was not boring anymore. She didn’t witness the following downtime. She… fell asleep. The closest possible to the restorative sleep of the organics, limiting herself to the automatic algorithms, which pushed water through her puppet’s canals, causing the water-blood to circulate.

The more she lost, the less she felt like an Iterator, and the further she developed to a new state of existence, which couldn’t be more pitiful in its everything.

Since the recent burn-out and awakening of her puppet body, her existence has been closer aligned with the Cycle than she ever dreamt of imagining. And she hated it more than she could ever love it. Yet another aspect, which differentiated her from her peers, was more reasons to look down on herself.

But, luckily, she couldn’t dream. Otherwise, these piled up and queued thoughts would have haunted her restorative non-existence.

Eventually, Gales zapped back into existence, as if a switch had been turned on. She immediately felt the effect of her passing out, an ample reserve of energy coursing through her puppet body. No change in her extended body, however, only… oh bother.

That error message wasn’t here before I shut down. What do you say?

…

Oh, bother. The structural integrity of the east side of the Silent Monastery has been deemed critical. The explosion must have loosened the foundation. I… I need to do something, or the debris could hit the Scavenger City below my legs. My followers are at risk.

I need more explosives. But can Breaker still provide me with more?