What could be accomplished, if someone were to begin rigorous testing? What could be understood, if Senshi magic was put under repeatable, testable conditions, if proper experimentation was performed, if a Senshi was pushed to and past her limits in the name of understanding what could and could not be done? It was a whole field of study laid out before her, and Industria could not help but find excitement in it. There were so many options, so many things to pursue, so many questions that lay wholly unanswered.
But that was not her goal tonight. The broader questions of the limitations of magic were fascinating, of course, and she wanted to talk to Amazonite about the possibilities—perhaps a captive would be better subject so as not to unnecessarily harm a fellow Negaverse Senshi, and she needed narrower questions and better experimental design regardless to truly make something she could be certain of, plus she would have to do more testing…
Her last attempt at recording a magical phenomenon had failed spectacularly, with her recordings of the well only really retaining her own voice and perhaps some faint sounds. Nothing exciting, to say the least. So she would have to rethink exactly how she wanted to do it. Perhaps set up recording and test it before running the test experiment proper to see if magic even showed up on film.
That particular endeavor had been so...disappointing. Industria hated unanswered questions, and that was all she had about the entities in the wells. Except that she was fairly certain that it was entities plural, given their prevalence, and that when she'd gone back there had been nothing of substance, merely a strange, echoing croak and no way to get more footage. It was gone before she could even begin to record.
So very deeply frustrating, but that was alright. Not every experiment ended in success. Sometimes things simply didn't work, and now, no matter where she went, she couldn't seem to find the same type of creature, so perhaps it would just...have to wait until they began to appear again.
Or, simply, she would have to accept that what she had gotten was all she was going to get, and focus on the young man she had met who had seemed so curious. Perhaps he was worth further inquiry; she would have to speak to Amazonite about him, and perhaps he would be worth scouting for the Negaverse. That, at least, would bring some benefit from her otherwise terribly failed exploration.
That was the way to do it. Not obsessing over what she couldn't find; moving on to something more applicable, so that she could actually make it all worthwhile.
Again, though, she was terribly distracting herself. She had to stop letting her mind wander so far; it wasn't good for her actual pursuits. But it was difficult, when there were so many thoughts to chase and there was so much to attend to.
She sighed, swirling the strange vial of golden liquid in her hand. Cryptomelane had mentioned something similar giving him insight into his previous life--insight that had been confirmed to not be a hallucination, dream, or fabrication by encountering the alien Senshi who had recognized them both. And while she had not been particularly interested in following Ympe's advice when it stood alone, no matter her affections for Cryptomelane and her desire to support him in any endeavor, having external confirmation of the strange item's abilities had made it instantly more appealing.
She'd found it while poking around in Negaspace, in a simple black puch sitting discarded on a a shelf. She couldn't say what, exactly, had compelled her to pick it up, but something had, and frankly, it was such a reasonable impushe she felt she could hardly be faulted for picking it up and opening it to find the little, figner-sized vial inside. The shimmer of the liquid within, as she'd tilted it back and forth, had held her attention, and she had picked it up and tucked it away into her subspace to be dealt with later, whenever she wanted to figure out its exact properties, and promptly forgotten because there were simply too many other things to pursue in her new journey of experiencing magic as a real, tangible thing that she could study and experience.
But now, its function was perhaps revealed, and frankly, she could not resist the opportunity to see what she might see. So she had set herself up in Amazonite's office, and requested she be allowed to have it to herself for a little while; Amazonite had found the request worth no more than a shrug and a request to report if she remembered anything interesting. Of course, it made sense that an ex-Kngiht who kept a sentimental artifact of her time on the other side wouldn't find the idea of exploring one's past life too thoroughly objectionable; Industria supposed it likely just made sense to her to be curious.
And, anyway, she had cleared out without too much argument, and that was really all Industria wanted. It meant that she had the lab to herself to perform her little experiment, and that she wasn't going to be interrupted partway through.
Probably she should have had someone with her, but she had enough experience trying out unusual substances that she wasn't really particularly nervous.
She settled into a chair, got comfortable, and took a drink.
And in a moment, she was somewhere else.
It was a hallway, and she was walking. The walls around her were brick and brass, with grand arched windows that let in the light from a slowly dipping sun. Shadows fell long across the hall, and her own stretched before her--mostly humanoid, and familiar, but for a pair of pigtails and what looked like the suggestion of little, pointed horns.
"Industria," a strange voice demanded, "you cannot continue to ignore what is happening outside your walls."
Industria sighed and turned, and found herself face to face with yet another nonhuman. He was tall and handsome, with long oilslick-black hair, and her eyes flicked up to take in the curling, draconic horns coming out of his head. Another of those aliens, then--or perhaps he didn't count as alien, given that this was clearly many centuries ago. He wore a labcoat of sorts, over a tight top and shorts, and he looked thoroughly unimpressed with her.
"Perhaps you should worry about your own planet, Daedalus," she said, uninterested, "rather than putting so much effort into mine."
"Your people are starving, Industria," Daedalus accused, "and you hole up in your castle with your inventions and only leave to visit your Asshai on Saturn. They think you've forgotten them. I don't think they're wrong."
"They should have more faith in their Senshi," Industria said, dismissively. "I'm looking for answers. I'll find a way forward. I always do."
"And how many will suffer before you do? Even your prototypes could do so much good, if you just let them be used instead of iterating forever--"
"They are imperfect," Industria said, "and I will not allow imperfect creations into the world."
"They talk about darker things, too," Daedalus said. Industria rolled her eyes.
"They've talked about darker things for a long time. Decide if you believe them or not, but leave, Daedalus." Industria said, firmly. "Worry about your people first, and then we can talk about mine."
The dragon man--Sailor Daedalus?--made an offended snarling noise, and then turned around, storming off.
And Industria jolted back to herself, blinking in surprise.
She wasn't entirely sure what she had expected, but being face to face with another alien who was clearly criticizing her choices was not it. They spoke as if they knew each other well--and as if he didn't like her, or agree with her choices.
In truth, Industria couldn't pretend that she understood what a Senshi's role on their plent was, and she had to admit that she couldn't quite find it in herself to care. If her previous self had been an inventor, more interested in perfection than practicality, perhaps she could udnerstand that. And surely there ought to have been other people equally responsible for whatever fault he found in her action or inaction.
And, anyway, it was a fragment of a fragment, but a fascinating one. Suddenly, Industria found herself curious. Voraciously so, perhaps.
Surely, there had to be more to know. She would have to track down more vials. Have more memories.
In a frenzy, she pulled out her tablet to begin making notes.
[wc:1539 words]
