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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.30 - Making Old Friends]
Date: 8.9.175 AA / 4404 LTC
Location: The Bunker at Haven-Of-Progress // Zephyro’s Domain
//No thing finer than friends of your own making.//
//As we grow older, it becomes more and more difficult to find other adults to relate to. Humans are social animals, and crave connection, so shouldn’t it be easy to make new friends as you grow older? One of the difficulties is that no one but our friends shares our childhood memories, and that forges a strong bond, which often eclipses any new relationships in their forming phase.
Who, we ask ourselves, could ever compare to our friends of old?
How could we make new friends of the same quality?//
[>>DATA CORRUPTED]
E1 %Just be careful, Tin. Don’t let the machine up there notice you. Here, do it behind my back.%
E2 %Let me scoot closer. Here. Move over.%
E3 %Why does this thing have so many shackle holes?%
E1 %Just pick one. The Shackle nail will do the rest.%
E2 %Ugh. Ew!%
E3 %What?%
E2 %It’s so creepy! Just look how changes itself when it gets close to a hole. Pulses like some disgusting machine…insect…thing.%
E1 %Hey, something we can agree on!%
E2 %Oh go shackle yourself…%
E1 %*Quiet laughter*%
“Let me help you up to the next roof, Sultana,” Zephyro said, and I grimaced.
It wasn’t his fault, and I knew that, but there was something about his casual tone that made me feel small and weak. As if I couldn’t overcome this obstacle on my own. The thought made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and only when I realized that fact did I become aware of the heat hiding behind it.
I was still angry.
So very, very angry.
And even though I knew that wasn’t Zephyro’s fault, it took me far longer than I would have liked to reign myself in and not snap at him.
He was right, of course. I checked the wall ahead of us to see if there was any chance I could climb up on my own, but it was completely smooth and had at least twice my height. If Chris had been here, maybe they could have built me something to help, but they weren’t.
They had abandoned me, just like everyone else.
I gritted my teeth.
Zephyro noticed, of course. “What is it, Sultana?” he asked, and I hated how his tone hit that perfect balance between care and confidence. It made me feel even more powerless, like I couldn’t even stand the pain of loss without him there to soothe it. I also hated that he might have been right. And I loathed that I couldn’t take him up on his offer.
“Nothing,” I said, tersely.
It almost looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just bent down, interlacing his fingers for me to step into. I did, and the moment I was ready, he boosted me up the wall with all his considerable strength. Again there was this weightless feeling at the apex, but it faded quickly when I grabbed onto the ledge and braced myself with my feet. I heaved myself onto the next roof with a small grunt. Before I could turn around to offer Zephyro a hand up, he had already jumped and landed next to me, as casual as if he were taking two steps of a staircase.
Again I had to grimace, and it took me a second to understand why. It was his casual demonstration of power. Next to him, I was nothing. I was dimly aware that just half an hour ago, I hadn’t cared about that at all, but now things were different, even if I couldn’t exactly figure out what had changed.
It had been the same with my friends after Veltruvia. After losing one of our own, it was as if the foundation of our friendships started to crack, no matter how often Patti tried to tell me it was all in my head. I had been right after all. They’d left me alone, one after the other.
Wincing, I snapped out of the gloom. No, that wasn’t fair at all. It hadn’t been their choice. It had been mine. I should have been stronger, should have—
“What?” I barked when I caught Zephyro looking.
For his part, the Vizier just stood there, armor glinting in the distant firelight, and let the silence do the talking. I caught his eyes, deep and brown and so damn compassionate. Tried to stare him down.
He won.
“My friends,” I said, even though he hadn’t asked anything. I pressed the words through teeth gritted with regret.
Then, after a deep breath, “I was thinking about my friends, and how much I miss them.”
“That is understandable, Sultana,” Zephyro said, and even though I wished he’d urge us forward, so I could keep running from the memories, he stepped closer.
“Tell me about them, Sultana.”
I scoffed again, shaking my head. “Why?”
“Because it might help.”
I snorted a derisive laugh. “How? They’re all dead, Zephyro. They died either during the retreat, or in Novus Apex, and standing here talking about them won’t bring them back.”
“Not all of them died—“ Zephyro began, but I cut him off. It hurt too much.
“Yeah, yeah, except for Chris of course, and maybe Olre.”
“Ah, the Maker and the Traitor. Do you think they are still alive?”
I snorted derisively. “Well I sure as fuck hope Olre died in some deep dark pit somewhere. As for Chris…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. They could be alive, sure, but this was hundreds of years ago. If they were alive they would have gotten me out of here by now. If they even wanted to.”
Now it was Zephyro’s turn to scoff. “Why wouldn’t they help you, Sultana? They are your oldest friend, your best and most loyal adviser.”
“Is that what they wrote in those texts of yours?” I asked, but the silence that followed made the question a statement. It lingered, pregnant with meaning, until Zephyro turned away with a grimace.
“Perhaps the Maker just didn’t know, Sultana,” he said. “Perhaps they thought you died.”
I scoffed, but there was no humor in it. “Sure, that’s another option. If anyone would have caught that my mind got transfered into a laptop, it would have been Chris. If they didn’t notice, then I’ve just been forgotten.”
“Maybe, Sultana. But even you admitted that your circumstances defy belief. Perhaps they didn’t notice in the heat of the moment, and only realized their mistake later. Ah, but I am missing the point. In the end, the Maker is with us again, and that is what counts.”
“What the f— What are you talking about?”
Zephyro frowned, confused. “Sultana, do you not remember the first alley, where we slew the rats together?”
“I do, yeah. What about it?”
“I did not speak in metaphors or blind faith when I said that the Maker had granted you sight beyond sight. There has to be a reason why you can see the Shackled and Ferals, while even I can not, and I do not know of anyone who would be able to enact such a feat but the Maker.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
That thought pierced through the angry haze.
I combed through my recent memory for clues and hope. I vaguely remembered something about seeing, but when had that been? At first, I was hesitant to revisit the notifications I had received, because I remembered the splitting headache far too well. And yet, I had to know.
“Notifications…” I said, and braced myself.
{YOU HAVE 999+ NEW NOTIFICATIONS}
{EXCESSIVE AMOUNT OF NOTIFICATIONS DETECTED}
{FILTER NOTIFICATIONS?}
“Yes,” I said, with no small amount of relief. Why hadn’t that option been there before? More importantly, why was it there now?
{CRITERIA?}
I appreciated how succinct the readouts could be, but even that single word felt like being flicked against the forehead. From inside my own skull. I was not going to like what came next.
With a quick glance shared with Zephyro, I said “Filter for anything related to Chris.”
Again the information roared into my mind. At first, I fought it, but that just slowed down the process and didn’t make it any less painful. Eventually, like ripping off a bandaid, I just let it happen and grimaced as hundreds of prompts rushed by. The notifications didn’t have timestamps, but I was sure I was getting several of them for the second time.
My eyes went wide as the information rattled in my skull, and as more and more pieces of the puzzle aligned themselves, my breath went still.
[//sudo set CHRIs; admin]
[>>User CHRIs is now an administrator of Chr1s’ Mag1c Key]
{Welcome, Admin.}
[//cnctconfig]
[>>Now displaying available connections:]
[>>Redtooth connections 0/1]
[>>Redtooth connection 1:
Connected to WIKI.SAINTNET.GOV:4242 D: {26 lkb/sec} U: ERROR]
[>>SSB connections 0/1]
[>>SSB connection 1:
Open. D:{n/a} U:{n/a}]
[//sudo connect SSB_1, Network_1; HOPe_BNKR_OPEN_NW]
[>>connecting...]
[>>connected.]
[>>HOPe_BNKR_OPEN_NW now connected as “Network 1” via SSB1]
[//run Code_dojo.exe]
[>>Prompt?]
[>>Prompt?]
[>>Prompt?]
[//compile drivers_sensory_Sam_v_0.1]
[>>compiling…]
[>>compiled drivers_sensory_Sam_v_0.1]
[//ins drivers_sensory_Sam_v_0.1]
[>>installing…]
[>>done.]
{drivers_sensory_Sam_v_0.1 REQUIRES RAM: 2 LKB}
{Available RAM: 5 LKB}
{RUN? Y/N}
[//Y]
{NOW RUNNING drivers_sensory_Sam_v_0.1}
{Available RAM: 3 LKB}
[//set -a input: video, audio, tactile, olfactory; HOPe_SENSOR_ARRAY]
[>>Now connected to Haven-Of-Progress Advance Sensor Array]
[>>Warning! Sensor Array at 78% efficiency. Please contact an administrator for immediate repairs. Error Code: OPSEC-14]
[>>Now rendering input from CaXera 125, CamXrX 2921, S8nsr 18, tr7pw0re 4553…( more)]
[//run Code_dojo.exe]
[>>Prompt?]
[//compile memOS_patch_ver076231233]
[>>compiling…]
[>>compiled memOS_patch_ver076231233]
[//ins memOS_patch_ver076231233]
[>>installing…]
[>>done.]
[//run Code_dojo.exe]
There, buried among thousands of other lines of hours-old code, was hope. It hadn’t been me who used those commands, at least not knowingly, and there was no way I had been coding OS patches in the back of my head, not with everything else going on.
Which meant someone else was connected to my system.
Someone trying to help.
Someone who knew memOS like the back of their hand.
“Chris?” I whispered, voice quivering like a flame struggling desperately against the moonless night.
[>>User CHRIs is currently busy: Code_dojo.exe]
Holy shit.
“Oh God… Chris? Is that really you?”
[>>User CHRIs is currently busy: Code_dojo.exe]
“Come on,” I pleaded. “Say something, do something or… I don’t know, just give me a sign!”
Beep.
There was no other response but this sound filling my head, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. Still, something about that noise seemed familiar, like the rattle of the keys to your apartment door. It faded quickly, but echoed somewhere in the back of my brain, like the first note to a favorite song I’d almost forgotten.
“Chris!” I yelled, my heart beating in my throat.
Beep.
“Chris…” I said, breathless, and nothing more, because if I spoke one more word, I knew I might have cried or screamed, or done any number of foolish things that crossed my mind.
It took me a couple of breaths before I organized myself well enough that I could speak again. Even then, first things had to come first.
“Can you get me out of here?” Maybe the question was a bit selfish, but right then and there, there was nothing I wanted more than to see them again and have them tell me things would be alright.
Boop.
“I don’t understand—“ I began, but then I caught on. “Beep means yes?”
Beep.
“Which means boop is…”
{EMERGENCY ACCESS OVERRIDE INCOMING FROM HOPe_BNKR_OPEN_NW}
{ACCESS GRANTED. NETWORK 1 NOW OPEN TO INCOMING CONNECTIONS.}
Boop!
I grimaced at the new lines being stenciled into my mind. I hadn’t requested this information, which meant that Chris wanted to show it to me. They were the only other person in the entire world with Admin rights, after all.
That left me with the most important question: What in the world was going on? Where the first few noises had sounded neutral, almost confident, it almost felt as if that last boop was at least tinged with concern, if not alarm.
{ADMIN 2 NOW CONNECTED VIA NETWORK 1.}
“Zephyro, I think I’ve got company in the real world…”
“Sultana?”
“Someone just connected to my laptop.”
“Is it the Maker?”
“No, I mean yes, they’re connected, too, but there’s someone called ‘Admin 2’. Any chance that is you?”
Zephyro shook his head stiffly, and his worry wormed its way into my heart, where in reply, my anger was radiating its hungry heat. Just when the two were about to meet, however, there was a new readout. This one “felt” fresh, as if it just happened.
[//disconnect network 1]
Beep.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
At least Chris had it figured out.
[>>Access denied.]
Boop?!
“What?!”
{>>NOW DOWNLOADING SHACKLE_v1.3.exe to C://memOS/Samantha_v1/kernel}
{DOWNLOADING: SHACKLE_v1.3.exe = 5%...}
Boop!
Oh, boop indeed…
“Sultana?” Zephyro asked when he saw my expression. “What is going on?”
As even more lines of code rattled through my mind, I slowly turned to the Vizier.
My eyes reflected in his, wide as the moon trembling before the cold vastness of space.
“I… I think I’m being shackled.”