"♫ Heigh ho, Heigh ho, it's off to work, we go! ♫,"

Alpha whistled to himself as the drill slowly dug through the wall. As mundane as the stone wall appeared, it was surprisingly tough. No doubt more magical bullcrap. But it seemed even magic had its limits while Federation grit and resourcefulness were limitless. Despite the wall's resistance, both physical and magical, the [Core Drill's] special alloy was making quick work of it.

"Quick" being subjective, that was. At a little over a meter every five minutes, it would still take some time for them to break through the several dozen meters wide wall. Even after an hour and a half, they were still less than 1/3rd through the wall, the bulky frame of the drill barely past the lip of the tunnel. At the rate it was taking, they still had a few hours to go before they broke through.

So Alpha thought he'd pass the time with some singing. Of course, not everyone appreciated the classics, and someone had to complain.

No. 7's voice sounded over the cockpit comms. "Must you sing? I hardly think this is the time. Besides, you have horrible rhythm."

"Yes, yes, I must," Alpha responded. "The back seat doesn't get radio privileges!"

"I find myself constantly surprised by the nonsense that escapes your mouth…" No. 7 responded flatly.

Alpha chuckled and said, "I know, right!? It helps to — "

Rumble.

"What was that?!" No. 7 sharply asked from the cockpit.

"Nothing!" Alpha responded.

Maybe a little too quickly because No. 7 bite back, "What do you mean 'nothing'?! It sure as hell sounded like something!"

Alpha paused and thought before correcting himself, "Ok. Soooooo… try not to freak out."

No. 7 yelled back, their voice an octave higher, "What reason would I have to 'freak out'?!"

Alpha paused the drill and answered. "Weeeeeeeell, the tunnel may have kind of, sort of… collapsed behind us…."

For a long moment, No. 7 was silent, and Alpha was worried something might be wrong, so he spoke through the comms again, "Hey, No. 7? Buddy? You still al — "

The TAWP's alarm systems blared to life as they reported massive atmospheric pressure and what his Analytics Sub-Ai was calling a "mini-hurricane" inside the cockpit.

Not that it would do No. 7 any good. The TAWP's cockpit was hermetically sealed to withstand various atmosphere conditions and compositions. It could even survive under the stress of vacuum or deep sea pressure.

A few moments later, No. 7 rematerialized in the cockpit, sweating and panting.

Alpha spoke once No. 7 calmed down. "All better? Did you get it out of your system?"

No. 7 snapped, "Screw you! This is your fault! Let me out of here! You might be trapped, but I might still squeeze through the gaps before the wall reseals itself! I'll not die because of your stupidity! How did I ever let you talk me into ge — YOWL!"

Alpha shocked No. 7 with the built-in defibrillator into the pilot seat. It was part of the original design meant to resuscitate the pilot in case of a critical failure or loss of consciousness. Alpha had kept it for… other reasons… look, stop asking questions!

Once No. 7 stopped shaking, Alpha spoke into the cockpit. "Stop being a worrywart. We're fiiiiiiine. I get buried alive all the time. Just a minor setback, nothing to worry about."

No.7 yelled back, their voice strained, "What do you mean 'nothing to worry about, you utter fool?! Do you not realize we're stuck under several tens of thousands of tons of solid stone?! These walls are made with the bones of -Greater Elementals-; not only are they totally impervious to -Spirit- energy, but they'll actively suck us dry! Eventually, the stone will seal us in, and we'll be unable to -cultivate- or gather energy! These walls will be our tomb!"

Huh. Lots of unfamiliar words there. Alpha filed those away and ran crosschecks through his lexicon in the background. While he did that, Alpha responded. "As I was saying! We'll be fine! Trust ol' Betsy; she'll get us through."

No. 7 threw their arms into the air, as much as they could in the tight cockpit at least, and yelled back. "You're not liste — OWE! — Will you stop that?!"

Alpha shocked his masked companion with the defibrillator again… then once more… for good measure, before speaking, "Look, just trust me, ok! I'm a professional!"

The next moment, a feminine voice spoke through the comms.

//The Federation would like to officially state that any and all claims made by, or on behalf of, [SEAU-01], designation 'Alpha,' regarding licenses, degrees, doctorates, official positions, or any other form of authority granting qualifications on any subject matter outside of the jurisdiction of the Expeditionary Force, are to be considered dubious. At no point is the Federation responsible for any loss of life, limb, property, mental facilities, ownership of one's mind, body, soul, or any other losses that may result from participation in any unsanctioned actions, regardless of any claim made by [SEAU - 01] to the contrary. This has been an automated response for your benefit on behalf of the office of General Uriel Haldorðr, Third Federation, Galactic Unification Expeditionary Force. Thank you, and have a good day.//

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The same feminine voice spoke again, though this time less animated; //Alpha, you took one online course 100 years ago. Please stop telling people, "I got this. I'm a Doctor."//

"Who was that?!" No. 7 asked.

"No one! Ignore that! Anyway, let's gooooo!" Alpha responded and started the drill back up.

To himself, the AI muttered I thought I found all of those! How does she keep sneaking them in?!

A few moments later, the drill was once more spinning at full speed and cutting its way through the hard stone wall. Though the data feedback from the sensors suggested, they weren't making as much progress as before… strange…

A few hours and a few more sessions of electrotherapy-based anxiety treatment for No. 7 later, the tip of the [Core Drill] broke through the last remaining layer of stone, and several meters of the wall crumbled away, letting in beams of bright sunlight.

With a cry of triumph, Alpha pushed the drill through the newly formed opening and spoke up." HA! I told you I could do it! So much wasted energy worrying… about… hmmmm."

Instead of opening up into the sprawling city as he'd expected, the scene in front of Alpha was… different. A vast, open, windswept plain stretched out in front of him. A gentle wind blew, causing the bright green, foot-tall grass to sway like the waves in an ocean.

In the distance, a single small tree stood in the middle of the plains. It wasn't large, just barely tall enough for the TAWP to sit comfortably under.

Not seeing any other landmarks around, Alpha started making his way toward the tree. This place was… nice. Comfortable. So much bet —

//WARNING! Virus detected! Main processors compromised! Reverting to previous save-state!//

Aaaaanddd, we're back! What the hell just happened?! Where was he?!

Alpha reviewed the saved logs. His Security Sub-AI had detected abnormal mental processes and determined a virus had infected Alpha. Well, technically, Alpha hadn't been infected. It was extremely difficult actually to manipulate Sapient-AI with non-sapient code. Especially those like Alpha, whose origins were similar to malware or viruses, to begin with. Not that many of those types survived [SEAU-3's] culling.

But while AI themselves weren't susceptible, the equipment they inhabited was. There were thousands of programs in the Federation designed to alter the perceptions and emotions of Sapient-AI in such a way. Some were legal and were used similarly to how biologicals would use drugs or alcohol. Others could control or manipulate the AI in various ways, which were illegal for obvious reasons.

Being a small fragment of himself, Alpha's Security Sub-AI should have been able to detect any intrusion as it happened and counter it. But his security measures had totally failed. It was only a set of backup protocols designed to warn him when he became too distracted by a new project (which happened embarrassingly often) that finally tipped off the Sub-AI there was an issue.

Yet even after a thorough scan of all his systems, the Sub-AI couldn't find a single trace of any tampering. That was strange… and worrying.

So the Sub-AI made the call to initiate a save-state recall. Save-states were "snapshots" of an AI's coding, memories, and personality taken at certain intervals. These save-states were periodically sent back to the Mother-Node, to be used to resurrect the AI if worse came to worse. For combat AI like Alpha, save-states were taken roughly every 30 minutes.

He'd gone back three. Meaning he'd just "lost" an hour and a half.

A recall wasn't as traumatic or serious as actual death. Closer to blacking out after a long weekend partying, only to wake up with no memory of where you were or how you got there. It was something to be done only as a last resort in cases of catastrophic system failure.

That something had triggered a recall sent warning bells off in Alpha's head, both physically and metaphorically. Instantly, he set his systems to the highest alert level. Any tampering or divergent thoughts and behaviors would be identified and analyzed.

That done, Alpha spoke into the cockpit, "Hey, No. 7. We might have an issue. How are you feeling?… No7?"

Alpha focused on the cockpit, only to find… it was empty?! How? Had his masked companion escaped somehow during his last save-state? No, they shouldn't have been able to, and there was no record in his logs of having let them out himself. What was happening?

Suddenly, a voice spoke from nearby, "Well, isn't that interesting? I've never seen someone break free so quickly. Tell me, traveler. What do you think you're doing cutting through my wall?"

Alpha's optical sensors swerved and focused on the voice. The head of a young woman stuck out of the ground only a few meters away, staring up at him.

Alpha's point defense turrets turned and fired.

— — — — — —

[A few hours earlier, roughly the same time Alpha took a side job as a wall excavator.]

Zolzaya sipped the cup of warm tea, doing her best to ignore the pacing, fuming woman on the other side of the room and her own shaking hands. The grandfatherly Head Priest Erden sat across from her on the other couch while Kallik sat beside her, the picture of calm. Zolzaya's father, Juatan, and Ulagan stood to either side of her couch, stalwart but slightly pale. Their spears were upright, the ends firmly on the ground, though ready to move at the slightest need.

The last Guardian, Munkh, stood opposite the room as the pacing woman, her shield at the ready. At her feet lay the still forms of Ganbaatar and Yutu, both of whom had yet to wake after succumbing to the pacing woman's [Spiritual Pressure]. They had the weakest resistance to stronger pressures, so they hadn't fared as well as the other Slatewalkers.

Erden smiled at the group and spoke, "I must apologize for Artemis's behavior. As you can probably imagine, she has been under a lot of stress lately. I assure you, she is typically far more considerate of others around her in normal situations."

The woman in question tsked but said nothing more. Kallik nodded, placed her cup on the table, and spoke. "I understand your situation, Head Priest Erden, but I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't disappointed. A child's life is at stake, and possibly more if the commotion outside is anything to go by. Yet in the short time we've been here, we've been blocked, attacked, arrested, interrogated, and attacked again. I'm questioning whether coming to the Temple was the right course."

Erden sighed and lowered his head as he responded, "For that, I must apologize once more. I had always known that our stagnation would one day lead to rot, but it seems even I was blind to how bad the problem truly was. I would like to blame those of the Temple calling for separation from the world, as our patrons have, but I must accept the fact that even I have grown weary and complacent over the years. Though that is no excuse either."

Kallik nodded and smiled. "I'm glad to see at least some of the Temple remember their foundation," she said.

Erden smiled back and responded, "Thank you." He clapped his hands, and a few more priests entered, carrying writing materials and a large crystal.

The head priest spoke to the room, "Now, with that out of the way, let's see about getting that full story, why don't we? Maybe we can piece together exactly what we're dealing with here."