◣ AB❈ AETERNO ✁ -- IC ❜

counter

+1	100.0%	[ 79 ]
Total Votes:			[ 79 ]

[from eternity]

"shiny ponkan"]
"legit cyn"]
"Brethil24"]
"malurus coronatus"]
"Miss MeguMegu"]
"hyperion blue"]
"SketchyGengar"]

_________________Anima City, Candore
_________________Y62-MM-DD 23:45

“-if I may, Leon.”

Though glazed with a trying serpentine humility, the words echoed sharply throughout the dark office room. But the intended recipient of those words reacted with the usual silence. Seated with an inhumane apathy, the figurehead of Xpergisci Incorporated remained facing the other direction. When the agenda was still new, it had felt nerve-wracking to stare at the back of that chair, never knowing what was being thought about your proposals and ideas. These days, Amadeus had a pretty good guess—the supposed father of modern society only ever had one thought about seemingly everything.

That anything and everything not already in his head was unimportant.

And so, like any other night, Amadeus waited through the silence staring blankly into the dark office through the usual computer screen, and counting the days left until he no longer had to put up with this monkey dance of a formality where all his grand visions had to be filtered through a fossil that was no longer concerned with reality.

That old fossil took his time. Tired, empty eyes continued to stare out at the edifice of the room directly opposite of the screen. A wall completely made of glass, overlooking the large Jump Towers that housed the richest third of the population. The only third that mattered. The only third that could afford a modern life of dreams instead of being grounded in reality. Four colossal spires were clothed in a seraphic incandescence by rows upon rows of lights that scattered the surfaces of the architecture. A fifth, with only the lower half finished, peaked out from the rest of the Candore skyline.

“Five minutes,” the silhouette of the seated man finally said, as if reluctant to give even that.

“I’ll make it fast,” the man on the screen began again. “I would like to know why my request for administrative access on the jump towers directly was declined, Leon.”

The chair slowly spun around until Amadeus’s eyes met the hollow gaze of his company. Even with just the glow from the screen, the characteristic sunken eyes of the man were impossible not to notice. He always looked and conducted himself in a way that made him appear exhausted and drained. With what? It was a fruitless question by nature, but after each exchange, Amadeus would catch himself wondering it. It certainly was not because the man was focused on running the company. Did Xpergisci even register in his mind? Taking a deep breath, Amadeus recomposed his eloquence before continuing.

"You can't expect me to keep things running like this. Jump tower four has already closed one wing and I've had to order another shipment just to cover the expenses of tower two. Look--,” he began before pausing to figure out how to appeal to reason.

Leon hardly even looked up from his seat.

Amadeus rapped on the camera with his knuckle, a spiteful part of him wanting some sort of a response even though this was all for show. "It's all thanks to me we've managed to get this far with the fifth's construction, but you gave Madame the key to the bank and I can only manage for so long, Leon. At this rate we might as well blow the entire thing up; you know she has no concept of finances. I’m just asking for a way to further the company’s interests and get things done on time without wasting valuable hours and days leaping through bureaucratic loopholes."

A slight sigh in response and then finally, a response.

“Madame is working very enthusiastically to ensure our Provenance patch before Somniatus hits the servers smoothly next month. The increase of funds to her department will only last until then. I assume you of all people understand how important the Somniatus is to keeping this company where it is,” he said quietly, in a strange manner that lacked much intonation. That was something that Amadeus had picked up early—the rambling way through which the man spoke made it seem as if he was verbalizing thoughts for himself, unaware of the differences between him and his audience. Then, without pause as if it had been in the back of his mind the whole time, Leon glanced to the watch on his arm and interrupted the beginning of Amadeus’s response, “Anyway, I have to leave. This can be discussed later.”

With a slight tap on the chair, the screen blended back into the blackness of the room before a response could be uttered. There was a shuffle as the now solitary man made another glance at the time before breaking the silence once again.

“Initiate log protocol, new entry as usual, let’s just start a bit early today.”

There was another small pause before a stern, female voice answered. “Sir, during your conference call, street cameras near the border have detected an anomaly of possible import. Your attention is required.”

“Just relay it to security as usual. It’s almost midnight, I’d like to make my daily entry please.”

“Your lack of concern has been noted. A live feed is being sent to your screen. Previous footage has been flagged.”

“Wh—can’t this wait until after?”

Entirely ignoring the protests of the only occupant in the room, the screen once again flickered to life, this time with a collection of monochrome footage from various angles. The room became devoid of sounds as a young female appeared on the screen. Her attire was almost odd, and though not foreign, gave off a different feel than the usual inhabitant of Candore. Yet, Leon’s protests were stifled for other reasons. With eyes suddenly alive and burning with a rare inquisitive energy, the man finally pushed himself from the seat and walked up to the screen until his fingers could touch the display.

“…Nora?”







Ceneri was an island city that upon the foundation of mankind’s potential and weakness. Despite issues such as environmental pollution and a growing divide between the rich and the poor, Ceneri was a progressive city. Technology flourished under a heavy emphasis on scientific progress. With developments in engineering and manufacturing, it looked as though things would only move up.

Then the plague hit.

It seemed unthinkable in a society dominated by the all-capable hands of science that there existed a disease that could not be identified. Virulent, sinister and deadly, the disease swept through the basin of civilization and within a month, death rates had hit benchmarks that spelled the end for mankind. Ceneri was at an impasse, mankind’s only salvation lying in the hands of a pair of ex-lovers. Leon Hirsch, the technological prodigy son and sole successor of a long line of politicians, had made huge progress in developing technology that could have been the doorstop to the demise of society. There would huge losses and sacrifices made, of course, but mankind would not end there so long as he succeeded. But Nora Rebane, a successful self-made scientist, was of a different mind and had left Leon out of disgust. There was no way she could stand idly by as tens of millions were left to die. In her opinion, though mankind would undoubtedly survive in physical form under Leon’s plan, humanity in spirit would die with the disease simply by the execution of such an atrocious act. Instead, she vanished from the attention of the world and began research into a vaccine.

To her surprise, the cure did not seem so far out of reach. Though very little was known about the virus, enough was there to figure out a defense. Of more concern and surprise was the possible origin of the disease: it was not of this world. It was not alien in nature. In fact it seemed as local as ever in space. But in time? The chemical dating on the molecules were all wrong. It was as if the virus had moved to Ceneri through time itself.

It was on the eve of this discovery that Leon paid Nora a visit. He was about to present his society-saving technology the next day: a fully-functioning, automated operating system and accompanying artificial intelligence. With this, humanity would no longer have to work to ensure society still functioned. Everything from food to entertainment would be automated. There would be no need to go outside or interact and thus, the virus would effectively be quarantined until it was forced to die out. Naturally, its high virility would quickly devour everything not contained and then it would starve itself out within a few years. Oblivious to the reasons for their separation, he pleaded with her to come to his press conference. For a moment, she considered the offer, but the night ended with her leaving him behind once again. Dejected and lonely, Leon made to leave, glimpsing a stirring shadow out of the corner of his eye. But it caught his attention for only the shortest of moments and he soon leaves.

Nora disappeared from Ceneri the next morning.

Despite the near hundreds of phone calls from Leon, she never answered. The press conference moved on without her. With his job seemingly done, Leon devoted himself to her search. But there was no trace. Her lab had shown signs of tampering but by no one identifiable and what little trail there was soon ended at her apartment. It was as if she had just vanished into thin air, pulled into some other world. Her research was missing large pieces for some reason, and no one could even begin to suspect how close she had been to a vaccine. With no other choice but to give up, mankind focused on the task at hand: weathering the storm.

Fifteen long years later, Ceneri is prospering again but under a different name. Once named after the word for ashes because of its heavy industrialism, the city has been christened Candore—like the candle’s whiteness. A symbol of man’s unwavering tenacity in the face of hardships, a solitary, surviving flame. Though heavy machinations have blanched out the sky with a permanent grey forecast, the city is eternally lit up by white lights everywhere and during the day, the sky almost feels like a great white blanket. True to Leon’s plan, the virus had been starved out just five years after the application of his automaton system. And true to Nora’s greatest fears, those too poor to afford proper housing and access to automated food had died off, leaving little more than 15% of the original population left. But still, with ambitions in mind, the humans slowly came out of hiding and began a new chapter. It did not take long for life to find some form of normalcy. Everything lost had begun to be rebuilt.

Yet old habits die hard.

Most had forgotten what it was like to be outside. Too many had realized how unstimulating life had become. Those who were too rich to work stayed indoors, seeking other diversions. With so many politicians and celebrities inactive, the government had to remodel. In good faith and as thanks for the technology that had saved them, they appointed Leon Hirsch as the public figurehead. Who could deny the will of the man that had saved their lives? It was as much a political move for societal stability as it was a show of gratitude. Leon, however, had long since found other tasks to pursue. In his eyes, his role in society has already been played through—what disturbs him is how he had lost the only woman he had felt a connection to. Distraught over the meaning of a life without anyone to bond with, Leon remains a recluse. Though he is the acting CEO of Xpergisci Incorporated, the company that handles all of the automated processes in the city from food production to clothing, it is only through his appointed officials that the government and Xpergisci move.

Instead, Leon had focused everything on a means of escape from a world barren of companionship and comfort. He has blood on his hands and he knows it. Had only the lives of faceless civilians been sacrificed, he may have stomached it eventually. Yet, in his gambit to save society he emerged at the end of the tunnel feeling only an insatiable emptiness. And so, chasing the humanity that Nora once said he lacked, Leon used the infrastructure of his technology to develop the second major advancement in Candore: The Somniatus. Essentially a glorified virtual reality, the world felt far too real in every way. For the rich, who had lost their beautiful gardens and luxurious balls, the Somniatus was a huge hit. Those with money and sustainability but derived no pleasure from the world flocked to the Somniatus where they could start over. The technology came with the features necessary to exercise passive muscles, handle nutrients and remove excretions. In fact, it almost seemed like the Somniatus was healthier than living. As long as one had the money, they no longer needed reality. It was a convenient economic fix as well; the Somniatus had suddenly increased spending and removed the access money people had been stockpiling during the years in hiding. Before, there was nothing but food and housing to spend money on. Now there was entertainment—those rich enough to pay for it would essentially liquidate their money and belongings in this world. Once they had enough monetary value, they simply began to live in the Somniatus. Money was always moving because there was always demand; inflation was no longer possible with bank accounts over a certain amount never being touched. And with heavy deflation because of the constant effective removal of currency from the system, more and more people were forced to buy into the Somniatus. Those without money found it harder to get their hands on it as everyone with any was no longer of this world.

Anima city had become the site of “Jump Towers”, huge housing complexes for the rich that handled everything for those sleeping within, allowing them to remain in the catatonic state of the Somniatus permanently. Forza and other small outlying areas became more and more decrepit and the divide between the rich and poor had made anything ever seen before a joke. Everything but Anima became dilapidated slums while the city grew prettier and more breathtaking with only a handful of the population privileged enough to see it.

But fifteen fateful years have come. A girl wakes up in the middle of the unfamiliar streets. She is not of this world. Lost. Eyes are immediately on her. The hollow shell of a man that resides in the Xpergisci tower senses a familiarity in her. A familiarity he can’t muster from anyone else. A distinctive smell of Nora’s fire. Surveillance is deployed to the slums to find her but they won’t be the first. Nearby from the girl’s waking site is an orphan who lives out in the slums. An orphan with more connection to the events beyond Candore than anyone could have dreamed. Amalie, who had been hiding in Nora’s lab fifteen years ago, has a lust for knowledge and answers. Answers to the questions she had inherited from Nora’s research. Answers that this new girl may hold.





______❈ SCALES ✁ MAESTRO OF PROGRESS, Amadeus
You are the CFO of Xpergisci and well-deserving of such a high position. Hard working and ambitious to a fault, nothing makes your heart pound more than the fruits of your labor. Candore is your home and lifeblood and you see it as your duty to make sure this great city continues to flourish. Despite understanding that the Somniatus is a large part of your company, you don’t feel that strongly about it. It is outside your realm of work and what goes beyond is not of your concern, only the money that comes out. While you’ve come along way and still see a long road of upward movement for yourself, you are often stifled by the balancing of powers. In particular, FEATHERS FROM HER WINGS largely clashes with your ideology and irresponsibly undermines you, no matter how unintentionally. Also you grow tired of your need to go through LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK for every administrative decision, despite how unmotivated and apathetic he seems to be. He is a hindrance to your grand ideas. More involved than the rest of the privileged, you see potential in NOTES FROM HIS VOICE either as a pawn or as an accomplice as opposed to simply dismissing the resistance as bitter poor people. You also work closely with VELVET FROM HER ANTLERS to get most of your agenda completed within the company. At the present time, you were just cut off from responding to LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK rudely during a conference call.


Design Notes: A less harmless Scales, should showcase a lot of key features of scales that Abel and Kyo have not. This is also the first Scales that is a prominently very involved with the course of the plot so far. Ambition and the archetype name should be felt strongly in your actions.


______❈ VELVET ✁ THE CORE OF EXPERGISCI
You are an integral part of the progenitor technology that saved the world. Though upgraded and tweaked multiple times, you are essentially the original accompanying artificial intelligence. Despite your normal distance when working with privileged individuals at the corporation, you are actually the first and most superior of your kind. Capable of thought, learning, and possibly emotions, you observe and perform the will of others. Usually you are content with following instructions but that does not mean you’re at all limited—often you do have your own agenda. If anything, you have a stronger will of your own than many of the people you work with. LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK designed you and works with you closely for personal reasons. You are the only one he talks to about his thoughts and feelings, albeit indirectly through his logs addressed to Nora. You are also rare in your knowledge of the previous STONES FROM HER FEET on this world, though all of your information is anecdotal from those logs. In addition, you interact with SCALES FROM HIS EYES and FEATHERS FROM HER WINGS for their work-related activities. SCALES FROM HIS EYES in particular has made a lot of effort to explore your relationship with him further. In essence, you carry out the will of Xpergisci Incorporated including your ability to control cameras, surveillance, output and input. Your overall influence on automation of society is limited by access permissions as to not allow you to go haywire and risk life on Candore, but the amount you can influence around the city is very large. At the present time, you are informing LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK that a mysterious girl has been spotted in the slums because you recognize features that seem consistent with Nora from his descriptions.


Design Notes: The first in a long line of Velvets that will break the mold of the confused meek princess. Aim to showcase the stronger aspects of Velvet. Of course the usual themes of difficult choices, getting the short end of certain sticks and being relied upon by people for no reason can still be used but they should not be the main focus. This is also the first AA character that is not human. Be creative and do not feel limited as you would with a human. Obviously, you will play a subservient second to Leaves, Scales and Feathers, but this will not limit the role you can play in the plot. To be discussed later.



______❈ NOTES ✁ VOICE OF THE RESISTANCE
For someone self-taught, you are well-learned, eloquent and noble. You of all people feel strongest about the divide between the rich and the poor. Though not quite officially, you lead the thoughts and hopes of many living in the slums of a fairer world. While you are friends with many in the slums, you are especially close to GLASS FROM HER TEARS, having run away with her from the orphanage at an early age. You confide in her in a way you normally would not with others, though there is a growing suspicion that she does not necessarily tell you everything. The appearance of the new STONES FROM HER FEET confirms that something is being hidden from you. Trusting is like walking on a tightrope in the slums. You never know if someone is just using you to scrounge up enough money to escape to Anima in hopes of entering the Somniatus or even trying it just for a little. Despite wanting to trust GLASS FROM HER TEARS, there will be significant tests of faith in the future. At the present time, you are either in the slums furthering your agenda or with GLASS FROM HER TEARS as she is about to find STONES FROM HER FEET.


Design Notes: A not-very backseat Notes. You are not the bard or priest this time, you will be leading the vanguard for your cause. Not necessarily similar to Die Gottlosen Notes but certainly less amiable than normal. You are an archetype based around hope and dreams. This is a world where hope is dead and dreams are the murderers. You have less pre-planned interactions than most people because you only have history with Glass but that doesn’t mean to leave it at that. Scales will play a part in your character later but that has not been planned entirely. Talk to Cyn with ideas and then expand that as you will. Trust is another main theme for this Notes. To distinguish this pair of glass and notes from the one in Provenance, please plot out a distinctive feel with Grace. Yes, the two are once again old friends and are fond of misadventures with each other. However, oddly enough, your bond may be shakier here than in Provenance, the world of deception and lies. Amalie knows things that she hasn’t necessarily told you entirely about. You are in a shaky position and the possibility of betrayal should be strong in your mind because of where your character grew up in. It’s a dog eat dog world in the slums.



______❈ GLASS ✁ SEEKER OF ANSWERS, Amalie
You are Amalie, the prodigy child who escaped the intellectual prison in the form of FEATHERS FROM HER WINGS’ orphanage with NOTES FROM HIS VOICE. While hiding out in the weeks after, you came across Nora’s, the previous STONES FROM HER FEET, lab. Upon her disappearance, you went through her research and took what sources interested you. In particular, the origin of the virus being from a different chronological period in time bugs you. While Nora mostly worked on a vaccine, her studies into the strange virus have opened many questions—questions upon which you have expanded slowly throughout the years. With the appearance of the new STONES FROM HER FEET, you see the opportunity to finally finish your theories and piece together the puzzle of both the virus and the summoning of the new girl. The flaws of your society are things you would not mind doing away with but you are not nearly as concerned about it as your friend, NOTES FROM HIS VOICE. Instead, you’re more interested in the implications of your stolen research. To you, this is a discovery that may extend way past Candore. You are also one of the few people to have seen LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK in a vulnerable state, even if that was only from the shadows many years ago. At the present time, you are in the slums and about to find STONES FROM HER FEET.


Design Notes: Most of this has already been discussed. We can discuss Amalie’s theories on multiple worlds and what not. As said previously, do your best to give your relationship with Notes a distinctive feel and not a repeat of Provenance. There’s a lot of good material to work with obviously and we’ve already gone over a few possibilities. A lot of the delivery of Candore will rest on how Amalie chooses to approach certain situations.



______❈ LEAVES ✁ CURATOR OF DREAMLAND, Leon Hirsch
You are a broken man, nearly obsessed with the woman you lost many years ago. You see your job on Candore as complete and have devoted the rest of your life to finding and understanding the humanity the previous STONES FROM HER FEET had said you lacked. All other interactions are trivial in your mind to the point where it’s sometimes hard to remember faces and names or apply significance to them. In the past, present and future, you are sitting in a dark room.


Design Notes: Plot important, action-lacking character. Will mostly interact with Velvet and sometimes Scales/Feathers. For the most part, all posts will be monologue-thought style and flesh out the background of Ceneri’s transformation to Candore. Occasionally, Leaves will want to do something in the world but will probably act through Velvet. This Leaves emphasizes isolation and self-enforced hermitage. It is hard for almost everyone but Velvet to interact with him and posts will be fixated mostly on the past which will flesh out the world and the rationale behind many of the technology, terms and mindsets within this AU. Mostly a world-building centric NPC. However, origin story for Blood From His Nails will surface sometime through Leaves.



______❈ STONES ✁ LOST VAGRANT, Tanaka Etsuko
You are Tanaka Etsuko, someone who intended only on escaping the nuisances of everyday life. Jazz loving, independent and headstrong. Yet, somehow you’ve found yourself in a foreign city ripe with the stuff of nightmares. Everyone seeks something from you and you’re not even sure if you have it. You recognize no one, understand nothing and yet, a part of you refuses to crumble under these pressures. You may not be the STONES FROM HER FEET of this world but you are probably the next best thing. At the present time, you have just woken up near the border of the slums in Forza looking up at Anima city through a gigantic fence.


Design Notes: Pretty interesting concept and unique in the cast. Culture shock part 2? This is a situation that’s pretty hard to operate because your character has very little knowledge to work with. However, this is where Stones excels. Unlike usual, you don’t really need to go up and about and do things because everything will be coming to you. Do your best to portray what would happen should an earth stones end up in a very, very unfamiliar world. She’s supposed to remind people of Nora’s intensity as well so strive for a good mix of stereotypical stones and unique background/character design.



______❈ SILVER ✁ ???

Design Notes: Planned Cameo. Disregard for now.


______❈ FEATHERS ✁ LUXURIOUS HERALD, Madame
A rare breed in the world of dreams, you are a self-proclaimed visionary. Fickle and multifaceted, you often appear random and chaotic to those limited in their own boxes of thoughts. You are currently the CTO of Xpergisci Incorporated, a position where you’re able to flaunt your flair for theatrics and twisted sense of humor. LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK generally leaves you alone as you do not get in his way and meet the deadlines with outstanding performances. SCALES FROM HIS EYES sees you as a nuisance to his plans, which is something you don’t care about unless he happens to get in the way of your own great work. Additionally you work closely with VELVET FROM HER ANTLERS because of your line of work. When it comes to the Somniatus, you are in charge of everything from coding to art direction. To you, life is an art and everything should be addressed as such. Completing your adoration for the odd, you are a foster mother of several dozen, owning a small orphanage in the slums. It is from this orphanage that NOTES FROM HIS VOICE and GLASS FROM HER TEARS escaped. As someone who sees herself as a lovely mother to all, this action has particularly hurt you and if you ever find out where the two have gone, you will handle it yourself. At the present, you are either working on the Provenance patch on test servers or furthering your agenda either with the orphans or SCALES FROM HIS EYES.


Design Notes: Yes, this is the same Madame as Provenance effectively. Yes, Provenance was played out on just a test server of the Somniatus—the 8 archetypes in the last AU were NPCs used to test things out. Your options are pretty wide open and it would be preferable to explore almost all of them. Plot a lot with ponkan over what Madame was like in her mind and then adapt into the role of Feathers. Just like Provenance Madame, you run an orphanage and have a similar motherly instinct though motherly is a loose term in your eyes. Make sure you don’t pass up opportunities to flesh out your past with the orphan characters as well as your constant rivalry with Scales. The theme of artistic flair, creativity and duality should be heavy in this Feathers. In particular, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to be very creative with the duality theme this AU. If you think it might be too crazy, you might be doing a better job than you think.

[from eternity]

Etsuko's arrival in Forza sets things in motion. Alerted by Fylax, Leon demanded Etsuko be found and brought to him. Fylax obeyed, sending out drones to capture the woman and bring her to Xpergisci headquarters. She is chased by the robots, right into the company of Amalie and Julien.

They were at the border of Forza and Anima investigating, Amalie's most recent calculations indicating that something significant is about to happen in this time and place. Whether or not this is the moment her research was trying to show her, their presence places them in the right place to save Etsuko from capture.

The moment he's hung up on, Amadeus finds Madame, intent on confronting her himself. She's at work in her jump tower and in a few moments, will receive the notification from Fylax giving her the location of her escaped orphans. Amadeus overhears and his curiosity is piqued, interested in what Madame could possibly want with two streetrats.



______❈ SCALES FROM HIS EYES ✁ Anima City, at Somniatus Jump Tower
______❈ VELVET FROM HER ANTLERS ✁ assisting Scales, Leaves, Feathers
______❈ NOTES FROM HIS VOICE ✁ Forza-Anima border, with Glass
______❈ GLASS FROM HER TEARS ✁ Forza-Anima border, with Notes
______❈ LEAVES FROM HIS BOOK ✁ Anima City, Xpergisci office
______❈ STONES FROM HER FEET ✁ Forza-Anima border, nearby Notes and Glass
______❈ FEATHERS FROM HER WINGS ✁ Anima City, at Somniatus Jump Tower

[malurus coronatus]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What was so special about the border between Forza and Anima, Julien had no clue, but Amalie was never wrong. Not when they had been children at the orphanage, not when they had wandered the streets alone, and not even as adults. Matching her pace as she milled the area, Julien shook his head and let her at it. She would be in no danger with him here. He would see to that. It was why he had insisted upon accompanying her, despite her protests and his own schedule to keep. Or, at least, part of why.

Her safety was paramount to him, of course. It had been that way for some years now, even as his network of influence had spread and he had come to care for more and more people. However, Julien also wanted to know what exactly she was up to. What danger she might have placed herself in, or worse, what secrets she was keeping from him. Amalie had never hidden anything from him before and he worried for it.

Giving his companion a sideways look, Julien sighed and shook his head to himself. He felt some guilt over suspecting her, because it was Amalie. But, well, it was Amalie. She was smart. Too smart, some told him, and unpredictable. She was not the sort of blind spot he could afford to have, much as he wanted. He had put in too much work, and too many relied on him for that. He was a veritable lynchpin. Julien had made sure of that.

Digging his hands into his jacket pockets, Julien momentarily turned his attention away from Amalie and to their surroundings, taking stock of how close Anima was from here, and how beautiful it looked. It was just as breathtaking as from afar.

For a moment, he wondered at the lives within the confines of its splendor, at what the other side lived like, and then he scowled. Life spent dreaming away at things that would never truly happen. It was no life at all, in his opinion. The destination reached, but without the value of the journey.

What was even worse was the dilapidated condition of Forza’s streets compared to Anima, its buildings dirty and worn compared to the svelte structures of Anima. Even the way the moonlight bathed the buildings in its light differed.

“Well, Ama?” His old nickname for her slipped easily from his tongue and he smiled down at her. “You said something would be here, but I don’t see anything extraordinary.”

There was the fact that the streets devoid of any life, but that wasn't exactly extraordinary either. Not this late at night, or when you got this close to Anima. After all, all life in Forza was typically found at the centre of the slums, day or night. It was where the most opportunity lay, for money or otherwise, and was thus where the crowds went—a fact he took advantage of time and again. Though it wasn’t advantage so much as quid pro quo. He did favours for others and they returned the gesture. There was only person he felt any sort of altruism towards and, even then, he picked her brain from time to time.

As they got closer to Anima, Julien placed his hand on Amalie’s elbow and gently guided her to turn right. “Not too close to the city,” he warned, voice quiet even in the empty streets. “Surveillance is much greater there, and we wouldn’t want Madame catching wind of our trail. She’s still looking for us, I hear. They call us the ones that got away. Or, at least, some of them do.” Lincoln, a fellow orphan who had been under Madame’s thumb until recently, had provided that kernel of information three months ago in exchange for a job.

It worried him more than a little, Madame’s persistence, even a decade later, and his grip on Amalie’s arm tightened a moment. Just as quickly though, Julien let go to slide his hand back into his pocket. He shouldn’t have worried so much. What could Madame do, now that he and Amalie were adults?

A glance at Amalie and his mind supplied, a lot.

The quiet and the darkness of the border was beginning to make Julien feel both distracted and antsy, and he hunched his shoulders slightly, belying his unease to Amalie. “You’re absolutely sure this was the time and place?” He asked, a frown crossing over his features. She was most likely sure, but it never hurt to ask. Sometimes, Amalie could be a bit scatterbrained, genius or not.

Then, carefully, he added, “You know, if you had let me bring some people as I had suggested, we might have found whatever it is you’re seeking faster, Ama. I do not see why you were so adamant about doing this alone.” Amalie could be unreasonable as well, he remembered.

[The Ducko]

The night’s chill nipped at her, but she took little notice of it. Upon her request, they were standing around the border between two worlds; Forza and Anima. Excitement welled up inside her, threatening to burst out in a babble of words, but she kept silent. Wandering around the area, her excitement was stuck on its highest note, almost painful now as she waited and watched and hoped that what she suspected could possibly transpire. If she were right, the implications were enormous.

Julien lurked some distance behind her, and shook his head. He was here by his own will. He had insisted upon coming to keep her safe, but there was something else going on, something that Amalie was trying to push from her already swarmed mind. Presently, and over the past few months, she had not been entirely honest with him about her work. While he wouldn’t admit it, Julien was busy as hell, and they were getting too old for Amalie to constantly rely upon him. Yet, here they were, despite her well-meaning but probably somewhat bitter attempts to withdraw her strain on his energies. The guilt for all this was simmering just below the surface, and she was sure Julien had picked up on some of it, she just wasn’t sure how much- or how to resolve it.
Narrowing her eyes, she allowed herself to sceptically observe the jumping towers, were countless lives were dreamed away. It made her think of their time in the orphanage, and how Madame had come very close to putting Amalie inside one of her dreaming pods. Some of the other kids went in and when they came out, weren’t the same. Part of her fear of the dreaming was that she suspected if she started, she wouldn’t want to stop. So, she struggled hard against it, knowing that the feelings of comfort, safety and acceptance would touch a weak spot in her.
Walking around, she looked for… well, something. Not exactly sure what to expect, she had hoped that if they showed up here… something nearly inexplicable would happen. Squatting, she examined a pot hole curiously, taking a moment to wonder if the event could occur without their knowledge. Maybe the subjects would be miniscule. Looking along the ground, she straightened back up and resolved to stand still, just in case.

“Well, Ama?” Julien asked her, using her old nickname. It made her feel warm inside, but his smile made her feel bad. He trusted her so, but it was like there was a huge block between the truth and Amalie’s words. She couldn’t quite get there. “You said something would be here, but I don’t see anything extraordinary.” Frowning, Amalie looked around at the empty streets. Deciding to overcome her fear of stepping on something important, she continued to move towards Anima.

“It’ll be here, I know it,” she said, confidence somewhat false. It didn’t help that she didn’t know what to look for. As they neared, Julien placed a hand on her elbow and directed her right, veering away from the city.

“Not too close to the city,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Surveillance is much greater there, and we wouldn’t want Madame catching wind of our trail. She’s still looking for us, I hear. They call us the ones that got away. Or, at least, some of them do.” This didn’t exactly surprise her, but it felt like a slap in the face from the past that they should still have to be careful to avoid that woman.

“After all this time?” She asked, not expecting a reply. “She had us for long enough,” she muttered, flicking the concern aside. She had her chance to prove herself to us. Madame had always been somewhat obsessed with her, but it had been a long time since she held any sway over Amalie.

“You’re absolutely sure this was the time and place?” He asked, and she sensed his restlessness. Turning to look at him, she saw his frown and shrugged. Turning back to face away from him, she continued her search for… something, and noted the care he took in his next comment. “You know, if you had let me bring some people as I had suggested, we might have found whatever it is you’re seeking faster, Ama. I do not see why you were so adamant about doing this alone.” Patience wearing thin, she didn’t look back at him to speak.

“I’m not surprised you don’t see why we need to do this alone,” she said tersely, finding it hard to remain socially acceptable with all the racket inside her head as she ran through possibilities, perhaps even that she was wrong. “You didn’t even need to come. I would have been perfectly happy to do this on my own,” a lie, and a bad one, but he had come of his own free will. “I appreciate your assistance, but I need to concentrate…” stopping, she heard a tapping from around a corner. Slowly approaching it, she motioned for Julien to be still and silent, peering around the corner at the location of the noise. Squinting, she saw a bobbing figure in the distance. The tapping was the sound of far off footsteps. Beckoning over Julien, she held him close as they peaked around together at the now fast approaching figure now clearly pursued by drones. Heart lurching, Amalie faced Julien with wide eyes.

“We have to help her- This is too- This cannot simply be a coincidence!” She spluttered, looking back at figure, now clearly a woman. “U-Uh-“ she said, trying to think, pulling out her experimental Electro-Surge 4.0 and swallowing. “I-If you grab her, I’ll detonate the charge-“ She suggested, hands shaking with a mixture of excitement and fear. Julien knew she was still working out the kinks in the device. It was designed to deactivate the drones, though at the moment it only worked for 30 seconds, and the charge often left anyone in the immediate area sizzling. Looking at him hard, she felt like he’d need a bit more encouragement to let her do this. “Please. I-I know I haven’t been up front with you-“ her face went red, blushing against her will, “-but this is- it’s everything- it’s-“ taking a breath, she looked at him hard. “Please? Remember the surge area, try to get her away. I’m not sure how the device will affect me, but take her back to the lab- keep her safe.” Looking at the Electro-Surge 4.0, she tucked a wire away, feeling the swirling thoughts and her racing heart slow and fade.

[malurus coronatus]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The terse tone that Amalie took with him made Julien purse his lips. It had been a while since she had gotten so testy with him and he did not like it. However, he remained silent, where with anyone else, he would have fired something back. This was not a bridge he wanted burned. Not yet. Not ever, if he were truthful, but life had taught him you couldn’t always get what you wanted, so he would settle for the present.

With nothing else to say, they descended back into silence, and he pushed a hand through his hair, feeling his frustration mount. However, when she beckoned him, Julien followed to peer down the corner. There in the distance was the figure of a person—a woman?—running. That was not what his eyes settled on, though. No, they immediately fell to her pursuers and stayed there. Drones.

What the hell were drones doing in Forza? Sure they were close to the border, but they almost never left the confines of Anima. Not unless it was serious business.

Any vague desire he might have felt to help the woman, which had, even then, been minimal at best, withered away. This was not just a potential set up for some quick cash as he had assumed when he first saw the woman, but getting involved with powerful people they might not be able to afford to anger.

“Are you kidding me?” he hissed, pulling Amalie back around the corner, though she was already fiddling with one of her gadgets, hands fumbling. “Ama. Think clearly for a moment. Those are drones. This is business involving Xpergisci. You remember who’s involved with them, don’t you?”

His words were useless though, and she babbled about him grabbing the running female and detonating a charge and Julien let out a growling sound of frustration. “This isn’t like pissing off those random guys you pick up, Ama. I won’t be able to—“

“Please. I-I know I haven’t been up front with you-but this is—“

Julien let out an exasperated breath as she kept going, wide eyes on him, pleading. There would not be much time left. He had to make a choice.

Amalie, or everything he had been working towards the past decade.

“Fine.” His tone came out curt, and for good reason. This was madness, what he was about to do, all for the sake of old friendship. “Fine. But this is the last time, Amalie. I swear. After this, you tell me everything, or we are done.” It was the first and only time he ever hoped to use that threat.

As the steps against pavement got louder, Julien tried to think of the best route to take back to Amalie’s lab. If they wanted to avoid being seen, the old underground concourse might have been their best bet. Vaguely, he remembered a time when the paths had been filled with stores, bustling with business and foot traffic. He had been maybe about five or six at the time. As the sickness had come though, the routes had fallen into disuse. Not many went down there these days, and those who did minded their own business.

Mind made up, Julien cast one more look at Amalie and exhaled noisily through his nose. “Stay safe,” he said eventually, before dashing out onto the street, intersecting with the woman and grabbing her hand, small and almost delicate compared to his own. She stumbled a little at the sudden change in direction, but Julien gave her little time to recover. They had to keep moving.

God. He was such an idiot. What was he doing?

“Move faster,” he barked at her. “Come on.”

Even though the mechanical whirs of the drones had faded out, he kept running. They took a right at the next block, then a left three blocks later until he spotted the giant set of stairs that led beneath the city.

With his free hand, he reached for the flashlight he had clipped to his belt earlier that night and flicked it on. Julien looked once over his shoulder, then at the girl before pulling her along as he descended the steps. “We should have lost them for now. Now tell me, who are you and what does Xpergisci want you? Couldn’t afford to pay them?”

[hyperion blue]

Nora. Only “Nora” of relevance is Nora Rebane. The Nora to whom Leon dictates his logs to.

Unlikely. Nora Rebane has been registered as missing. Data ends approximately fifteen years ago. This female is unregistered in database. Updating database. New file: Unnamed Female - Nora?

Drones requested. Locating nearest. Required: restraining devices. Required: not high priority operations. Drones located. Entering commands. Cam activated on D-52A824CJ. Estimated distance: 30 meters. Estimated time of retrieval: 40 minutes.

”Drones have been dispatched. The woman will be retrieved shortly.” A pause. ”Sir, this woman cannot be Nora Rebane. She does not exist in the database. Nora Rebane’s file was last updated before this program was completed. There have been no updates since. For all intents and purposes, Nora Rebane has been terminated.”

Female is fleeing. Commandeering additional drones. Calculating path for interception. Drones dispatched.

Newcomer. Identification failed. No recent files. Drone does not possess recording device. Extrapolating features. Searching for match.

Missing.

M I S S I N G ?

Visual tracking failed. Activating infrared. Error: drone does not contain infrared capabilities. Initiating grid tracking. Recalculating pathing.

Partial match found. Gabriel Winters. Currently in Somniatus room #854879.

Partial match found. William Hendricks. Currently in Somniatus room #12854243.

Partial match found. Charlie Greenfield. Deceased as of Y26-08-12.

Partial match found. Julian Delacroix. Current location unknown. Reported missing from Madame’s orphanage approximately ten years ago. Red flagged. Linked file Amalie – no surname assigned. Red flagged. Syncing with Madame.

In the jump tower the cheerful voice trails off mid-exclamation, as if it has been distracted by something.

”Oh, hey. That’s cool. You won’t buh-leeve who I just found! Madame! You gotta look at this! Madaaaaaame!” A screen pulses, indicating interference, and the data fades into the background. In its place is an image of the male, as captured by the drone cam. ”Look, look! Isn’t he one of those, whatchit, the ones that got away? Isn’t that awesome? Isn’t it? Isn’t it? Praise me~”

The image slides to the side and shrinks to half its size, replaced by a map. A glowing dot marks the Forza-Anima border where the woman who is not Nora Rebane was found.

”And they were riiiiiiight… here!” The dot blinks.

ERROR

E R R O R

Connection with drones lost. Cause unknown. Attempting to re-establish link.

Link established. Approximate one minute of data is unavailable. Queue for reconstruction.

The map and visual feed is fed to Leon’s screen, up until the moment the drones deactivate.

”Apologies, sir. Retrieval is not possible at this time. The female is in an unknown location. Permission is required to deploy drones in larger numbers. Do you wish to specify a search path?”

Additional note: equip drones with infrared capabilities. Permission required from Amadeus. Locate speakers. Mobile device located. Establishing link.

The voice is accented, elegantly polite, and broadcasts out of Amadeus’ back pocket.

”Amadeus, more drones with infrared would be useful right now. Will you grant permission for that change to be made to the plants?”

[Brethil24]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“They left. Oh. My. Gosh, they left, just turned tail and ran, why they do that, why would anyone do that! Now of all times! This is what, the eighth? Nineth? …Ugh, twelve? We’ve done this twelve times already!? Shut it down. Just. Just shut it down I can’t even bear to watch anymore. Machines 5 and 8 too, they look like they’re going the same way.”

Madame leaned back in her chair and flung her arm across her eyes, groaning like she’d been terribly wounded. Because she was. Terribly. Those two were just so stubborn about not following their roles, no matter how she tweaked their parameters. Much more than the rest of them. If only they were as sweet as that cop girl, Evelyn. She did as she was supposed to, just ran around like a headless chicken and died on cue. What a good child. Couldn’t they all just be that way?

Speaking of which. “Fy, my love, send a note to Rick downstairs, will you? I still don’t like Evelyn’s dress, it needs more… shlooosh in it.” She made the appropriate motion with her free hand before continuing. “I want five new designs on my desk by the morning. And maybe a headpiece. Her hair seems a little bare, don't’ you think?”

On hearing Fy’s chirpy response, she sighed and set her chair spinning, uncovering her eyes enough to expose the glass ceiling whirling above her. Well at least that was an easy problem to fix. Good artists could be hard to come by (especially given a certain someone’s propensity for firing people without warning), but at least they were easy to work with. Just feed them and house them and give them enough time off for a little romp in their Somniatus server of choosing and they were happy as clams. Could she do that? Put a Somniatus inside a Somniatus in order to tempt the two into behaving?

Ugh, and now she was thinking nonsense. Madame groaned and flopped face down on her desk. “Geez, why do I even bother! It’s not like anyone appreciates my genius anyways!” Rolling over slightly, she glared into the glow of her monitors, eyes skimming across placid faces, their lives laid out in text. Eventually her face turned thoughtful, and she began slowly walking her fingers along her keyboard, daintily skirting around the keys. It was a little old fashioned, and she did enjoy dictating orders to Fy, but there was a satisfaction in typing out commands. A single button press with the tips of her fingers, and the world would change entirely.

“Maybe it would be simpler to scrap them entirely,” Madame mused outloud, eyes unfocused, slightly dreamy. “Select all, delete. Just rebuild them from scratch. I could even flatten them a little, make them easier to work with. I mean, not all eight parts have to be equally deep.” She hummed, fingering one key, then the next. So simple. Just a little twitch and it’d be done.

“Well! I’m sure some others might be tempted. But not I! True art’s course never did run smooth, and how could I, the great Madame, accept any less than true perfection? Fy, pull up the log reports! Start up the orchestral soundtrack! Bring forth the good champagne! Tonight, we bring Provenance to its pinnacle!”

With a flourish, she returned to the task at hand with renewed vigor, blazing through the events log. What to do, what to do. She needed some way to keep all eight of them in the room, at least long enough for the grand reveal. But how? Physically restraining them had been no good; blocking the door had simply caused the whole group to panic, which was less than productive. And it’d been such hard work getting them to such a good state, Liam and Emily withstanding. She needed something tempting just for the two of them.

A bigger secret perhaps? Some juicy bit of knowledge that would give Emily all the leverage she needed over her former employers? Which was a fine enough idea, but how to incorporate it? It was one thing to dump even more secrets into the Alghieri, anyone would expect as much, but what was the best way to have her know about it. A favor through Liam? Swap the correspondence with the assassin to one with the phantom thief, throw in some prior interactions, maybe an addiction? Too much of a liability. Still, it was true the killer had more than enough work for the night without a later rendezvous with the host. Maybe she could throw in a case of mistaken identity? Confused assignments? The wrong items entering the wrong hands?

Hmmm, but that wouldn’t end up destabilizing the host, would it? The girl was normally quite manageable, but she had her moments; her earlier tendency for murder-suicide had been amusing at first, but then it just. Kept. Happening. At the most inopportune moments too, far too early in the arc for anyone to give a damn. Perhaps she’d been a little overzealous correcting that, but at least the rising action had stabilized. Besides, an enterprising player ought to be able to dig the behavior back out of the girl easily enough. Madame sighed at the thought, glancing over the girl’s history, her stats, her recent behavior.

Huh. How odd.

Frowning slightly, Madame scrolled back up the events log, gesturing vaguely for Fy to pull up the traceback and scene feedback. There, right before the server was reset. The girl host had grabbed onto her brother, nothing too out of the ordinary, and yet resource allocation for her had peaked drastically in that moment, far more than was normal. And here, it almost looked like one of the processes had stalled for a bit. A bug? Was there a bug in her baby? She leaned forward, muttering intensifying when the screen suddenly pulsed and went out with a wink.

“Fy! I was still reading that!” Pouting, Madame prepared to launch into a tirade about timing and respect and multiple monitors for a reason when the image on the screen flickered into clarity, forcing her to a premature pause. The man pictured was a handsome young thing, nicely crafted features that would be even better if they weren’t currently fixed in an irritated frown. Madame stared at him unblinkingly before clapping her hands, face lit up with recognition. “Julian!”

Gosh it’d been years, hadn’t it! Look how much he’d grown, she almost didn’t recognize him! “I can hardly believe it! Oh Fy, this is fantastic! Oooh, that boy is in so much trouble! Fy, bring him here! He is going to get such a talking to.” Filling with indignant anger, Madame leapt to her feet and began pacing about her office, very nearly tripping over the assorted cabling in the process. “What was he thinking, running away all those years ago? And without even saying goodbye, too! It’s like there isn’t a grateful bone in his body! Isn’t that terrible? After all those years of love and tender care…” She faltered at that thought, eyes suddenly welling with tears.

Oh, to have been betrayed such! A little teenage rebellion was understandable, but to such an extent… couldn’t they see she just wanted what was best for them? That they were her children and she loved them so. Surely they realized that somewhere deep in their hearts? Fumbling for a conveniently placed handkerchief, Madame dabbed at her eyes before blowing her nose rather noisily into its lacy pattern. “I… I’m going down to meet him. Ready my transport Fy. Oh, and be sure to bring along any companions he has.” Julian and Amalie, they were just thick as thieves as children. Surely they were still together? Though even if they weren't, at the very least, Julian was probably keeping tabs on her. That was just the sort of boy he was. And if she couldn’t squeeze any answers out of him directly, she could always try talking to his friends. She was so very good at dealing with friends.

[second day sea]

Leon's countenance suddenly disappeared, the drone's dead screen reflecting Amadeus' own face. There was no anger there, just a moment of surprise that turned steady resignation. Conceding marked most of his interactions with Leon Hirscht. It should be counted as a success that he got any reply at all, but in this particular instance, Amadeus wasn't settling for half-assed successes and the fact that he had been ignored, brushed off once again made irritation prickle at the base of his skull.

"Fylax? Next time Madame makes a withdrawal, lock funds and send her through me first." The reply came through the drone just before he pushed it away, flapping his hand at it to get it to go. Her voice chirped through his back pocket. "If she has problems with it she can discuss them with me. That's the point."

He spoke as he cut across the street, paying little attention to traffic—what traffic?—and touching the handle of a car stalled at the sidewalk. It trilled as it opened and he settled himself inside, letting the seat adjust itself properly to his height, reclining just so. The speakers clicked from the dashboard in front spoke instead. "No, tower one first. I need to check with Sela on the power failures before anything else. Oh, and the fifth goes live in a few months, so contact Harvey. It's late, but he'll respond. Project the expenses needed for the new trade and give it to me too. I'll cover whatever Julien wants in return, barring control of the city."

He laughed, mostly to himself.

The car pulled away from the curb smoothly, only the faintest humming audible, gears changing automatically as they crossed empty streets, intersections with lights that no longer mattered, slipping onto the freeway and merging into nonexistent traffic. The highway sloped up, arcing through the city, weaving between tall buildings. Only the car's lights illuminated the roads; he had shut down the streetlights years ago, working only the barest minimum so the rest of the energy could be funneled to the towers.

Tonight, they were the only thing moving, glittering in the empty eyes of smooth panes of glass. Useless glass. He could find so much more purpose for the abandoned buildings in Anima. He could turn them into offices again, build them up to actually serve a purpose.

He watched the car swimming in the reflection absently, resting his hand on the door handle. Then he caught his reflection grimacing and he pulled away, snappishly interrupting Fylax's voice. "Change vocal track. Something less...annoying."

Pulled away from his reverie, he drew his phone out and began to read, thumbing through pages and pages of graphs, flipping almost absently from one to the next. Though occasionally he'd let Fylax run a calculation for him, but notes he kept to himself and she fell silent in the meantime, memorizing the graphs and data, storing them all inside his head. That was why he was in charge. That was how Xpergisci managed. That was how Candore survived. The numbers never lied.

He leaned forward, holding the phone out to the dashboard camera and zooming it. "Figure out this anomaly in the second tower. Is this Madame's doing?" He leaned back again, looking displeased. He was more than accustomed to her test runs, but occasionally test runs went wrong and then the entire tower felt the consequences. She needed to be careful, but no amount of warning ever got through to her. All she ever really cared about were her programs, right?

What was the best way to handle this? He could confront her, but he already needed to handle her spending issue. Still, an anomaly of this scale in the event logs was perhaps the more pressing issue. And for this spike to be so strange... He clicked his tongue against his teeth. He couldn't let that go unattended to. There were nearly a thousand people at any time in the jump; even the tiniest bug could cause thousands of dollars worth of damage. He squinted unhappily at the leap in the data. Numbers never lie. Something strange had happened.

And suddenly, his screen went black and warped.

He stiffened up, staring at the device in his hands for a moment. Then he glanced up to see a train of drones heading in the opposite direction. He twisted in his seat and watched them disappear, brow furrowing. What the hell was that? Why were so many altogether at once?

”Amadeus, more drones with infrared would be useful right now. Will you grant permission for that change to be made to the plants?”

"More drones..." he echoed absently. The voice Fylax had chosen was much nicer—he approved. Then it dawned. "More drones? This wouldn't have anything to do with the interruption just now, would it?"

The lack of response answered it.

He rubbed his head, suddenly aware of a headache. "Fine we'll discuss later about the drones. I want to find the source of that disruption just now."

The car abruptly changed direction, pulling a u-turn, then following the drones down the road they had taken. Amadeus sat back quietly, his phone still on the fritz. Not that he noticed that. His attention was well past studying Madame's experiments. Drones didn't act like that without explicit orders. Was Leon...? No, that was ridiculous. Leon was holed up in his office, doing whatever it was he did when Amadeus wasn't bothering him. Still, the behavior was suspicious, and coupled with his phone fainting without warning, Amadeus needed to find out.

A sliver of unease snaked its way into his gut as they passed through the dome, but he pushed it away. Fylax brought the car to the boundary of the city, stalling on the bridge between the two districts and there Amadeus got out, shutting the door behind him and scanning the surroundings.

Something shiny on the ground caught his attention and he squinted, trying to make it out. "Lights, Fylax," he muttered, and suddenly the ground below was flooded with the streetlights, illuminating the pile of dead drones.

And a girl, picking herself up.

The reinforcement arrived, red lights flashing. Amadeus frowned, gripping the railing of the bridge, ignoring the grime on his hands now. "Fylax, what the hell is going on?"

[shiny ponkan]

A twitch, a shiver, a fluttering of eyelids.

She awoke on the cold and hard ground to the loud churning and whirring of a city alive and in motion. Honey tinged eyes blinked hazily at a sliver of dark gray skies between the high walls of buildings on two sides.

What am I looking at? She thought at first, reaching for her head, which throbbed dully with every heartbeat. Is this a dream?

Then she realized. If this was a dream, she would not have asked if it was, and the physical pain in her head made it apparent that no, this was not a dream. She was awake in a reality that was very wrong.

She flailed her way into upright position, her breathing quick and body shivering from unease. She appeared to be in a narrow alley between two buildings, with one end dead and the other leading out somewhere. Pushing herself onto her feet, noting as she dusted off her hands that her outfit was seemingly intact and unchanged from what she had been wearing at work earlier, she stepped hastily towards the open end, her eyebrows furrowed and hands clenched tightly into fists.

She expected to see a Tokyo street, automobiles between white lines on black asphalt and bright storefront lights along the sides. She expected to find a pay phone and call for emergency services, lacking her own cellphone to do so. She expected to find someone to ask for help if no pay phone was in sight, as surely there would be at least one person around.

Instead, as she emerged from the dark alley, she gaped at the sight of the street, and then at the sight of what loomed above it. A great snowy mountain, and upon its steep slopes rested a great dome. Immediately before her was a crumbling street that appeared to incline in its path, perhaps intended to meet the bridge that extended from the dome. The street was lined with buildings that did not seem in inhabitable condition and were lit into view only by the occasional flickering light, and overall completely devoid of human presence.

But there were others ready to greet her.

Hovering in the air, they had noticed her heat and sensed her movement. As she came into view, they sat and scanned her, quickly realizing that they could not identify her. They whirred louder and faster as they began their descent towards her to fix that problem.

Her eyes snapped uphill at the sudden increase in noise that was somewhat reminiscent of a helicopter. Except unfortunately for her, it was not a helicopter here to save her, but a multitude of flying machines heading towards her, and judging from their appearance, it did not seem like they were here to help.

Instinct told her to run, and so she did, fleeing from the machines as fast as her legs could carry her, without a single idea of where to go except away.

She rounded the corner, relying on her hearing to gauge how fast they were catching up. So far she had managed to maintain her speed, but she was not sure how long she could keep this up. A misstep into a pothole caused a twinge of pain in her ankle, but she stumbled only a moment before falling back into her original pace, ignoring the slight throbbing that now plagued her ankle, because there were humans ahead, a man and a woman, and maybe they would help.

They split up as she ran up to them. She was too out of breath to utter a word, but no words were necessary, the man immediately grabbing her hand and pulling her with him. She stumbled again with the sudden direction change, wincing as her ankle took the hit, but the man ceased to notice, instead ordering her roughly to move faster, much to her chagrin.

They ran and ran some more and were descending stairs when she realized the sound of the machines had disappeared. The woman who had split up with the man earlier must have done something about them, hopefully without any injuries on her part.

The man spoke up abruptly, demanding answers.

“Xpergisci?” She asked with a pant, the sharp tone of her voice betraying her distress, imitating his pronunciation of the foreign-sounding word before quickly continuing to clarify, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t even know where this—”

In the midst of talking, she stumbled again. This time her weakened ankle could not withstand the strain, and she collapsed forward with a pained gasp, onto the man still pulling her by the hand. “Ugh, I think it might be sprained,” she muttered, pointing at her left ankle. “I can still move but we need to go slower,” she added almost commandingly, matching the tone he had taken with her before.

She paused, thinking about the questions he had asked. It would be best to reveal all the truth, even though the truth was difficult to believe. Depending on how he perceived it, he could be either less suspicious or more. Likely more, but she did not have anything else to say to explain herself anyway.

“I’m Etsuko, from Tokyo. I woke up alone on the ground earlier, and then those machines came after me, and I think I’m more confused than you are about it all,” she offered, her voice now calmer than before. She tilted her head, her eyes brighter than before as prepared her own barrage of questions. “Where are we? What is Xpergisci? What are those machine things? Why would they come after me?”

[SketchyGengar]

Dear Nora,

Do you remember what you said as you stepped beyond the threshold of my door? That I was incapable of empathy. That I wasn’t human.

I have to ask you. Does being human still mean the same thing to you now? What makes something human? And what makes a man in the flesh something inhumane? Is it dreams? Is it aspirations? Is it chasing beliefs so fervently that we disregard reality like you did?

If so, has humanity never been as human as it is now? Reality has been dethroned and everyone granted an eternal life of dreams. Of intangible beliefs and perceptions. And if so, does that not make me the god of this realm? An unsuspecting Hypnos lording over his wonderland of sleep. Once again, almost human but not quite. Once again, probably a monster in your eyes. You thought me a beast for not holding any remorse for the billions I ‘sacrificed’. I still don’t. They were not mine to save, nor did the parameters needed to do so exist.

But your words still haunt me.

I’ve delved into the deepest ends of human literature, art and culture these past fifteen years. I’ve absorbed more humanity than any human in recent history. Fylax and I have organized and exhausted a few centuries of archived music, paintings, sculptures and writing. My once direct and technical diction has been purposely obscured to sound more empathetic. My mind is now primed with the existential questions from the books I’ve scoured. Yet, I can’t help but feel even more distant from humanity. Even more distant from your vision of what the future should have been.

I wonder if the Council was familiar with Huxley or Orwell. I wonder if the repercussions of effectively signing off all privileges to one single engineer ever crossed their minds before they eagerly set off on vacation indefinitely. If fear for the future ever entered their calculations. Nora, do they count as human as well? Men and women who abandon the dreams of others to embrace and devour their own? Or is it not that the dreams are being eaten- but instead the dreams that are doing the eating.

You were wrong, Nora. I do feel remorse- not for the billions I could not reasonably save, but for the million survivors that I’ve imprisoned in my own experiment to find humanity. I feel remorse for all those that are held hostage on the other side of this window as the reality they once called home slowly decays into obsolescence. My staff thinks me incompetent. They too, don’t see me as human. They judge me as negligent and ignorant of the problems in the outside world. But I do know. I do hear and see everything. Through Fylax, I have eyes everywhere should I only choose to pay attention. Is this what a God would feel? Sitting behind a glass window as the world cries out for help. So many prayers, each different. Who do you listen to? And more importantly- why listen at all? It’s no longer my world. Behind this glass, the matters of sustenance and diversions are satisfied. As an organism, my needs are met. I’m sure you would help them all. Listen to them all. But I’m not one who can simply do things without a thorough reason. What makes mankind so important that it deserves assistance?

It’s true, humans are capable of exceptional higher level cortical function and many in the past have stated this as enough reason to separate humanity from other animals. They go as far as to no longer categorize humanity as an animal altogether. But just as humans can think, birds can fly and fish can fly. Intelligence isn’t exclusive to humanity either. In the end, it’s all just another adaptation. Mankind isn’t special, only different just as all things are. What you see inherent in human life, I may never know.

But that can change.

You’re here now. The publicists insisted Expergisci would sell well and imply good things for the city. “To awake.” Well, it seems in your absence, I’ve instead drowned this city in sleep. Perhaps with your return, I will find reason to awake things once more. But first, I need you back here. I want to know everything you’ve seen all these years. I want to read through your thoughts and beliefs and see for myself whether there’s a reason to budge.

Show me this so-called humanity that is worth protecting.

-----

“End log,” Leon abruptly ended the silence as he peeled his eyes away from the glass window overlooking the jump towers. His left hand patted away the creases on his ceremonial white coat. A small floating white drone quickly blinks its single red light in acknowledgement before floating in front of the man.

Right, he had interrupted Fylax’s question since it had hit midnight. Logs were to be started on time after all, regardless of the circumstance. Particularly on this day. Fifteen years exactly since Nora had disappeared. And now she just resurfaces, without warning. Coincidence? Unlikely. Too unreasonable to act as if it were.

“For now, stop pursuit. I’d like for her to come back to me preferably. She’s not the type to run from me if she feels I’m the problem in the first place. Resume normal patrol routes on all drones.” A smile suddenly cracked through Leon’s exposure. “It seems we have more research to do, Fylax. Retrieve and provide all details of any person spotted within a two hundred feet proximity of Nora since her identification.”

It had been such a long time since something had caught his interest in this barren city. He could almost feel a rush for once. But still, matters such as this were best performed logically and with self-control. Control. Right, there was something else.

“Fylax, I’d like to ask a question.” His voice was gentle and slightly more spirited than usual. “Would you be willing to become accomplices?”

The towering and lanky man turned towards his unlit office room. Pitch black. “I’d like for you to hide all details about this matter and any further developments from anyone else. Including Amadeus and Madame. Is that something you’re willing to do?”

[The Ducko]

The drones were impressive, of course. Their sleek metal exteriors looked capable of holding real intelligence. She didn’t get to look at them for long, before she activated the device. The timer triggered, she sprinted into the drones, and braced herself for the charge. Electricity ran through her and she hit the ground, her body shutting down momentarily. The drones fell beside her, stiff, their interface lights going dark. The world was blurry and slow, and it took her a few attempts to sit up. There was a sense of urgency in the back of her mind though, and she forced herself up, her legs slow as she scrambled back into the city. Amalie felt eyes on her, and hoped the others had escaped. Julien was pissed, but he would be considerably more pissed if he ended up in Xpergsci custody.

Stumbling around a corner, she grazed her palm on the rough brick wall, pushing off, legs picking up speed now. She was puffing. It had been a long time since she’d had to run- her life had improved considerably over the past few years, and all because of Julien. She admired him more than she’d ever be able to express, and yet lately there was this rift between them- a thorn that she couldn’t seem to pick out, and just pushed deeper and deeper with her clumsy attempts. If it was left there, she knew it’d fester. Why was it that she could talk for hours about robotics or astrophysics, but found her tongue paralysed in the face of Julien’s disappointment? It was irrational, and that fact only wound her tighter, compressing her frustrations into a potentially explosive mess.

I’m so out of shape… she lamented, dragging herself on, through the abandoned streets of the outer areas. It was night, but as she ran she made it into the more populated areas, and there was quite a nightlife to be found. Luckily, Julien’s brand of business was one that occasionally got his employees into some trouble. Because of this, he had various businesses that acted as “safe houses”. Spying one, she slipped inside. It was a busy restaurant, operating at night because of the low brow nature of its clientele. The waitresses were topless, and their wobbling was quite distracting. Heading into the back room, Amalie didn’t stop to rest, leaving via a hidden exit and continuing on her way, confident she had lost anyone who was still tailing her.
The hubbub of the markets was still almost as strong as in the day, with all kinds of goods being peddled, and prices yelled out to the swarming crowd. Amalie weaved through them, breaking out into clearer roads, and jogging the remainder of the way back to her lab. Upon arrival, she slipped inside and bent over, resting her hands on her thighs and leaning forward, trying to catch her breath. Cat jumped onto her back as she did so, and mewed innocently. Grabbing him by his scuff, she tossed him away. He landed gracefully, and hissed, prancing away into a dark corner of the lab.

“What… an… a*****e,” she said, taking a deep breath at the end of her statement. Taking out her cigarettes, she hopped up on the bench that ran along the walls of the large, square room. She opened a window, and lit up, taking a deep breath and exhaling out the window. She knew how much Julien hated her smoking, but there were limits to how much she let that influence her. Looking over at Julien and their anomaly, she finished her cigarette, and put it out in an ash tray by the window that was already almost overflowing. The irony of being short of breath and smoking a cigarette wasn’t lost on her.

“I owe you an explanation,” she said to Julien, treating the girl as an experiment subject for the time being, and ignoring her. “You know of the multiple universe theory, yes?” She asked, though didn’t leave much time to respond if he didn’t. “I’ve been working on a theory which was inspired by another’s research. The factors were becoming increasingly frequent, and-” She stopped herself from going off on a tangent, sensing a lack of patience from Julien. “Basically, the equations pointed to an anomaly,” she nodded at the girl nonchalantly, “appearing somewhere near that location at around that time.” Jumping down from the benchtop, she walked up to the girl, and observed her. “She’s not from here. Not from Forza,” she paused for effect, smiling, “or Anima. She’s not from here in any sense of the word. If my calculations are correct, and if I’m not misreading the data…” she took in a breath, smiling, excitement building. “She’s from another universe. A universe without Xpergisci, or the plague, or-” she stopped, looking at the girl in the eye for the first time. “Tell us about the world you’re from.” Amalie brushed off a stool covered in notes, and gestured for her to sit, as if she’d suddenly remembered her manners. She retrieved two more stools for herself and Julien, and brought over a juice pop, offering it to the girl. Those juice pops were delicious. Amalie looked up at Julien, and tried to express what she couldn’t say.

I’m so happy. All my work, all the hours of checking and rechecking, adjusting and fixing- they’ve all paid off. This is the single biggest discovery of our time- no- of all time. This changes everything. I couldn’t have done it without you. This was why I had to keep it a secret. Will you understand? It’s so important. I could not ignore it, and now I have proof. I’m not good with emotions, and people, and talking- but this, this only I could do, and nothing compares to that feeling.

[malurus coronatus]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Julien huffed out an irritated breath and gave the girl an unimpressed look at her tone. He could easily have abandoned her. She wasn’t being honest with him. I don’t know what you’re talking about, indeed. It would be easy enough to leave the girl here. The drones weren’t no longer posed a threat. He’d done his good deed of the day.

But the girl for some reason was important to Amalie, which naturally made her important to Julien.

Releasing his grip on the girl he pushed his hair back and gave her an exasperated look before giving a curt nod and slowing his steps. Eyes pointed forwards again, he guided the unnamed girl through the darkness, waiting for her to provide some answers. And, when she did, he had to refrain from gazing sharply at her, instead assessing her from the corner of his eye.

It sounded a bit like the ramblings he and Amalie had sometimes heard from the other children that Madame would put in her little pods. Assuming identities that were not their own in gibberish words from places that only existed in the coding done by Madame’s subordinates.

Another world, another city, another place. The fanciful dreams of those who slumbered their lives away, wasting what little time and ample opportunity they’d been given while the rest of the world tried to make better what they could. He was ready to write her off as just one more addict, addled and confused from having been forcibly ejected from Somniatus.

And yet, she delivered it with a calmness that those addicted to the pretty dreams sold to them could not feign.

He lifted his brow at her and shook his head. “Underneath Forza. The machines that were after you were drones made by Xpergisci, a company that is slowly killing those of us who survived the plague.” He pressed his lips into a thin line at that comment, refraining from saying any more on the matter of the company he had come to blame for most the troubles of the people of Forza. “As for why you are being chased, I’m sure Amalie can answer that. She wanted to save you, so you can be her responsibility. Maybe she’ll take better care of you than she does Boris.”

Without another word, he led the girl down through the concourse, pausing only a couple of times at intersections where he had to remember which route to take. Eventually though, they reached a set of stairs that led them above ground a few blocks from the lab he had set up for Amalie some years ago. “Come on,” he said, grabbing the girl’s wrist in case she tried to run, leading her past a group of young people, obviously intoxicated.

At the entrance to Amalie’s lab, he pushed Etsuko in ahead of him first, again ensuring she would not run. She could very easily have been feigning that sprained ankle for all he knew. Others had done worse in times of desperation. Boris immediately came up to them, moving past the girl and then winding himself around his legs, purring and rubbing up against him. Sighing, Julien knelt down and picked the cat up, rubbing the cat’s head and gesturing for Etsuko to keep going.

There, further in, he found Amalie safe and it felt like a slight burden was lifted from his chest. But there was still a small coil of irritation there, a question of whether Amalie was taking advantage of him. For a while, he said nothing, waiting for her to go first. It was always him smoothing the way for her. This time, he’d let her go first.

Finally, she stubbed her cigarette out.

Finally, she offered the explanation he’d been waiting on for what seemed like months.

It was fascinating, what Amalie proposed. The same pretty ideas that Xpergisci sold in the form of Somniatus, but real. A world without the plague, where the people were not suffering from the downfall of most their infrastructure and government. Many worlds, even. He was happy for Amalie. He was. This was an amazing discovery. It was the sort of thing people could only ever dream of proving.

Ultimately though, it was useless.

If this girl, Etsuko, was proof, what then? What use was that? Would they find out how she arrived to Forza and find a way to reverse the process? Find a way to move themselves to another universe? And what would happen to the hundreds of thousands that remained?

Thus, ultimately useless. Or worse, detrimental to the efforts he had made here in Forza. How many would be clamouring to escape this world, truly escape, if given the opportunity? And then there was the matter of why Xpergisci wanted this girl. Because it proved exactly what Amalie theorized? So they could capitalize on it and make the world worse than they already had?

They would market it. A way to abandoning this world, this city, this place. Worse than Somniatus though, because at least the people who dreamed were still here, could still come back to the world of the living. This new discovery would be a permanent removal.

Who would try to make this a better place if they were all to leave? To abandon hope?

The questions buzzed about in his mind and he looked from Amalie and Etsuko. He needed a few more answers before he acted, he decided, slowly lowering Boris to the floor. “I need to make a few calls,” he finally said, voice even. “To secure the area. I will be back.”

Julien offered Amalie a tight smile and slipped from the room, giving the anomaly a leery glance on his way out before exiting the building altogether. Pulling out a phone from his pocket, he flicked the screen on and his thumb hovered over the number pad a few moments. For a brief second, he looked over his shoulder back to the building that contained Amalie and her anomaly. Then, he shook his head and began entering a series of numbers he had never expected to use and pressed the phone to his ear.

When it clicked, connecting him to the man at the other end of the line, a man he had never spoken directly to, only through a series of middle men, Julien spoke without preamble. ”Amadeus. This is Delacroix. I apologize for the calling so late at night, but I have a favour to ask of you.” He paused here for a few moments, slipping his hand into his jacket pocket and looking up and down the empty streets. “There were drones deployed to the border of Forza earlier tonight. I want to know why. Were they after someone, and should I keep an eye out for them? I will, of course, return the favour. You know by now that I am good on my word, I hope.”

[second day sea]

"Fylax," he spoke distantly. The girl was starting to move, pushing the drones off her and taking unsteady steps. Amadeus got going as well, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket and picking up the pace. "Tell Sela I'll speak with her tomorrow. Get those drones fixed. And find out who the hell that was."

Then he was gone, abandoning the car at the crest of the bridge, taking the steps two at a time as he raced to keep up.

(Question: How long had it been since he did anything strenuous?) (Answer: Too long.)

He hooked a hand in his collar, loosening his tie, feeling like his footsteps were too loud, his shoes pounding against the pavement as he vaulted over the railing, landing badly and nearly losing his footing. He caught himself on the fence, eyes still trained on the alley the girl had disappeared into.

He almost blew right past the entrance, and she was already gone from sight. But he wasn't so out of shape that he couldn't catch up to a girl who just got shocked with enough of a charge to put out some drones. He pushed himself on, coming out on the other end of yet another empty street, holding his breath long enough to listen for footsteps.

There was faint echoing coming from his left and he followed it, catching a glimpse of someone just as they turned the corner. (Question: Which is more important, speed or stealth?) Swallowing his ragged breath, Amadeus slowed down even though his legs wanted to keep going, momentum making them buckle with each step.

(Correct answer: Speed.)

He was coming to learn things about Forza that he hadn't known beyond black numbers on a white page. Apparently, a thriving nightlife was one of them. He was at the edge of the streetway, but the marketplace alive under its tarpaulin covering, casting everything in pock-marked spots of light and an endless shower of dust.

His target was gone, lost in the crowd. He hissed lowly, irritated in part because of the unnecessary expense of energy it had taken to come this far. Then he found himself cussed out of the way by a unkempt-looking man, forced deeper into the crowd. Wrinkling his nose at a bad smell that soon followed, he fished his pockets for a handkerchief, covering his face. He'd rather struggle to breathe than inhale whatever passed for air in this cramped bazaar.

His appearance was attracting attention he was sure, even though this was hardly his best suit.

(Question: What next?)

That one he had no answer to. Grudgingly, he followed the crowd, letting himself get pushed further in and giving the wares on sale the briefest of glances. He wasn't quite willing to give up just yet. Amadeus drew his phone out of his pocket, his fingers feeling strangely weak as he tried again to turn it on. He'd need to add anaerobics to his schedule.

When the screen brightened, he gave a soft sigh of relief. "Fylax, did you find out what she used on those drones? Also find out where I am." His words were clipped at the edges where he had to fight to keep his breathing even. "See if you can access the records from those drones she dropped. You should be able to find out who she was. I want to know who she was."

There was a pause and then, "Access denied. Insufficient clearance."

That made him frown. "What do you mean, denied? Who is she—?"

A flash of pink caught his eye and he saw a clear profile framed in the door just before the girl disappeared. Forget being stonewalled by whoever locked the file; he was about to get a face-to-face.

The door chimed as he entered and for a second he was so distracted looking for the girl that he didn't recognize the real distraction until it was hanging—literally hanging—in front of his face.

"Welcome, Sir! Table for one?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a precious second away from his hunt because his head was suddenly pounding and he really didn't need this right now. (Question: Who liked this sort of thing?)

Stiffly, he spoke to the woman, choosing not to ask. That wasn't an answer he thought he needed. All girls, he noticed abstractly, feeling sleazy just from being in the place. "The pink-haired woman. Where did she go?"

"We have seats at the counter as well, if you'd like a better view,—"

"The woman, where is she?" He started through the shop, scanning the diners, only to be blocked by the waitress who had greeted him.

"Sir, we have plenty of other options on our menu, if you would care to take a seat. I am certain you'll find things to your liking." Her voice had gone steely, and he gave her a look of utter disbelief. Whoever this mysterious girl was, she had trained her people well.

God, he was really starting to hate Forza.

Eyeing the waitress with his lips pursed, he let her lead him to a seat against the wall, ignoring the way her smile had gotten that manufactured quality to it once more. Definitely well-trained. Annoyingly so, but even as his mind protested, his body all too eagerly sank into the seat offered, and he found himself asking for a refill of chilled water before the first sweating cup even touched the table.

It wasn't as if he couldn't be productive after all. If Fylax wanted to be disobedient, he would do it himself. He scrolled through his phone, punching in a series of passwords, breaking down one wall after the other in his attempt to access the latest information stored by Fylax's system. (Question: If Amadeus' access was rejected, then who locked him out?)

Not the most difficult of questions.

(New question: What did Leon have to hide?)

(Answer: "Somewhere, pending access to this goddamn thing.")

He resisted the urge to snap his phone, not that he had the strength at the moment. He was tired from his run and he was just about to give in and ask Fylax to arrange for him to be picked up when his phone buzzed under his hand. At first, he was confused by the string of numbers across the top. Then they clicked and his eyes widened.

He let it ring for a few seconds, long enough for a new array of questions to line themselves up in his mind. (First and foremost: What was so pressing Julien had to call directly?)

Amadeus kept his mouth shut as it connected, letting the man speak first. And it really was first, the first time they had spoken directly, the first time he had heard this voice. He couldn't help but try to place it to a face, constructing in his mind's eye a suitable persona for the man running the second city, his Forza counterpart. Younger than he had thought.

In the pause offered, Amadeus hesitated before speaking, trailing a finger in the water ring left by his glass. Then, deciding that if Julien found no point in addressing the strangeness of this call, he wouldn't either. He cleared his throat, adopting the same no-nonsense tone the other was using. "I don't guarantee I can be of any help, but you may ask."

The content of the words however was more than he was expecting and he was grateful this was no face-to-face, for he doubted he'd have been able to keep his expression neutral. He shifted, facing the wall instead and speaking in a lower voice, so as not to be overheard. "I don't manage the drones past ensuring they're working properly, so I'll see what I can do. But there are many instances where drones are deployed to the border, as I'm sure you know." A little lie that the man hopefully would not catch. "Give me a second, I'll bring up the logs from tonight." He changed his phone's screen, going back to the stream of information from the group of drones concerned. Finding that much was no problem. But their purposes had been scrubbed clean, as well as the origin of their orders and no matter what he tried he hadn't been able to get through the wall Fylax had set up.

He pressed the phone to his ear again, deciding to keep his cards close to his chest. "Nearly thirty minutes ago, a group of drones were at the border, involved in an incident with a unidentified girl. I suppose that's the one you're interested in? Mmm...it seems the drones lost signal abruptly. All of them at once. That's unusual... Well, whatever they were responding to has been scrubbed from the report, I suppose from the frying they took." He was running on his own witness account now. At least he could rest easy knowing the Forza man would never be able to catch him in those lies. "I can investigate further into this, but I'm afraid I this is where I begin asking questions of my own. Like I said, I'd be abusing my authority by looking into such things and I do like to know what I'm dealing with before I stick my nose in places. If you have more information, I would like it now."

He allowed a smile; it felt like they were friends.

[hyperion blue]

”Understood.”

Reactivating standard patrol procedures. Calculating pathing to nearest patrol point. Drones deployed. Grid online. Search radius: 200ft. Specify search path? Beginning and end points set. Calculating possible routes.

Retrieve and identify all heat signatures. Unnamed Female - Nora? Identified. Two heat signatures within 50ft. Previously identified as Julian Delacroix. Identifying second heat signature.

Routine scan of room. Elevated heartbeat. Source: Leon. Indication of interest?

Unnamed Female – Nora? Flagged for further examination. Assigned to max priority documentation.

”Sir, your statement is illogical. Program FYLAX does not possess enough autonomous features to quality as an accomplice.”

Pulling data files. Encrypting. Encryption complete. Clearance level set to max.

”Files have been locked. Data is still being retrieved. Would you prefer to be updated in real time?”

Re-establishing drone link. Scanning. Motor capabilities intact. Serial numbers match temporarily offline drones. Returning to HQ for closer inspection and repair. Data reconstruction pending.

ALERT. DATA LOSS IN TRANSIT.

Locating Amadeus. Signal source: Forza. Amplifying signal strength. Maintaining link has priority. Device active.

”You are currently in Forza. Please be aware that limited assistance can be given outside of—

“Apologies, but those files are no longer available.” There is the barest hint of an edge to the voice.

User AMADEUS is attempting to drone deployment data. Access granted.

User AMADEUS is attempting to access additional files. Access denied. User AMADEUS does not have sufficient clearance.


[ WOULD YOU LIKE TO REQUEST CLEARANCE ? ]

tab tab > YES
tab tab > NO


Incoming call. Recording active. Identifying voice.

Voice identified. Julian Delacroix. Red flagged. Report to Madame—

Manual override. Updating behaviour engine.

Updating…

Updating…

Update complete.

Julian Delacroix. Linked with Unnamed Female – Nora?. Linked with Amalie.

Calculating possible actions.

Calculations complete. Sending package. Signal identified.

WARNING: LOW CONTACT WITH MAIN PROGRAM DUE TO WEAK SIGNAL.

Tracking activated. Locating Julian Delacrox.

Insufficient data. Adding signal to routine sweep. Updating file.

One of Madame’s screens gives a faint shiver.

”Wah, Madame! The files disappeared!” The light blinks rapidly. ”Awww! There’s a big ol’ sign on it. Boooo Madame they’re not letting me innnnn! Wait—Ah, darn.” The blinking dot and map vanish, as if the data has been erased.

A long silence, before the voice pips up helpfully.

”I don’t know where Julian is anymore, but he’s talking to Amadeus right now! Fuu, I wonder where he got that number from? Gosh, Amadeus knows a lot of people! If you’re still gonna go out, I can take you to him!” Abruptly the voice shifts, dropping down an octave into a smooth tenor.

”Shall I retrieve the carriage, my lady?”

At the same time:

”The majority of the files have been retrieved. Of particular note are Julian Delacroix and Amalie, both within 50ft of the anomaly’s first appearance.” The screen flickers, stills popping up in an array of images. ”Julian Delacroix disappears with the woman. Amalie is temporarily sighted before the drones nearby are temporarily taken offline. Approximately one minute of data is unavailable and cannot be reconstructed.

“Both originate from one of Madame’s orphanages and were documented as missing. Amalie’s current whereabouts are unknown. Julian Delacroix is currently speaking to Amadeus. Will a live broadcast be required?”

[SketchyGengar]

It is Y39. Or rather, whatever is left of it.

The lobby is adorned in a jumble of colored stock paper. They fidget from their places on the walls as people brush by. A man, who goes by the name of Charles, sweeps through the sea of tuxedos and dresses. He almost fades back in but his gold-leaf cufflinks glint defiantly against the glow of chandeliers. Charles then brings an arm around a female in a slender red dress.

I would later learn that her name was Monica. The obituary would oddly print it in a different typeset from the initial of her last name.

A noise knells through the room and hushes the crowd. Charles is the last to close his lips. A solemn silence ensues.

I look at the clock for the forty-seventh time tonight. The thinnest hand ticks towards the Roman numeral XI.

Charles is the first to break character and whispers something into Monica’s ear. The shuffling silhouettes of their neighbors dance along her bare back. As she laughs quietly in response to his words, she brings an arm behind her back to fix her shoulder straps. The scar that peeks out for a second catches the interest of no one, and not for the last time.

In twenty years, Monica’s mother will request that we leave out the scar in our renders for her model in the Somniatus. No request was made for the addition of Monica’s father into the Somniatus.

“Ten!” everyone begins as conducted by the clock. The smell of alcohol becomes all the more pervasive with so many open mouths. “Nine!”

I look at the clock for the forty-eighth time tonight. It ticks rhythmically and the movement of its hands are measured by distinct seconds. Perhaps motivated to fit in, I too begin to mouth the countdown.

“Three!” In the background, a glass shatters. Some stutter at the end of ‘Three’ but no one makes an obvious reaction. Instead, everyone counts down to two. A female voice finishes a little later than everyone else and it trails off in the awkward silence. “One!” The screams and applause that follow are amplified by the echoes from the room’s arches.

I wipe off the few bits of confetti that land in my hair and turn towards the exit.

The gold luster from Charles’s cufflinks give him away before his hand touches my shoulder. He insists that I make a speech. Upon my refusal, he recruits his usual arguments. And when remarks of cowardice and sociopathy do not have an effect, he brings up something he feels I have more interest in. The approach is more hands on and with both hands now on my back, he begins to ‘insist’. ‘To celebrate my thesis publication’ followed by ‘not every day is the start of the fourth decade of the century’, he lazily claims as I’m forcibly pushed through the crowd.

It was a literature review, not a thesis. The relativity of simultaneity was never and will never be I can claim authorship to. Instead of arguing, I glance past my shoulders and for the forty-ninth time tonight, I look at the clock.

The Hirsch way has always been lavish. The Hirsch way has always been prodigious. And as the sole inheritor of a tradition fixated on trading the concrete for the abstract concept of ‘networking’, I once again find myself with an audience with no interest for listening to my words. Instead they are content with watching me talk while sipping the complimentary alcohol in my name.

For the last time tonight, I turn back towards the clock. My eyes run along its plain white surface for the fiftieth time tonight.

And when I turn back, I meet her eyes for the first time. They ignite something in me with emerald incandescence. My mouth opens and while my so-called peers take in the words that fly out of autopilot, I take in every bit of her. Digging, my eyes frantically move along her form, relishing in every strand of hair and the slightest change in her expression. I lose the ability to explain the situation. Beautiful is something that comes to mind but the topic feels unfamiliar.

I finish. Applause. Charles says something to me as I descend from the podium. Before I hear a word of it, I’ve already thrown it out.

I don’t dare look back at the clock as I exit.

---




Illogical? Leon pondered the word for a moment as he furrowed his eyebrows, stepping out of a deep thought that had ensnared him. Then, another memory sank its unpleasant fangs in.
“Don’t be so hasty about judging things as illogical,” he said, almost as if a stern parent. The man gave pause, catching himself in a heated moment before turning back around.

“Neither you nor I possess the omniscience to explain everything. Only rationalize. Remember the difference- understanding that point is what makes you more than a program.”

For a moment, he wondered if he should have put more time in growing his creation. No, Fylax’s processing power should be more than enough. In time, it should be Fylax growing him instead. A tinge of regret still loomed over the tension.

“But yes, update me real time. Anything that involves the events that just happened tonight go through me. I’ll filter them if I need to as they come up.” A delicate scenario for a far from delicate guest. Though the momentum of stagnancy still weighed his mind down, he understood the overwhelming need for proper execution.

“And … let’s get some lights here,” he tacked on with a hesitant swallow before closing his eyes in preparation.