The research group treated him differently after that revelation.

Namely, they treated him more like a test subject than a person, trying to slide questions and requests into conversation: Hey, Otto, is there any chance you could…stand on this scale for a second? Just trying to see what you weigh. Now – and I just thought of this – maybe you could use that skill while on it…

After the third scale broke and he started outright refusing their requests, they started giving up and leaving him be. With an added caveat: he wasn’t allowed to practice any skills in the observation chamber, unless he told them first. From the way they delivered the news, they expected him to cave immediately and let them run as many tests as they wanted. Unfortunately for them, he didn’t. He had plenty of free time to practice, whether in his rooms or in the cafeteria, so the restriction didn’t bother him as much as it did them. Braes in particular had begun sulking every time she glanced at him in the observation chamber. Their restriction had, to his own private amusement, caused more grief on their end than his.

Days passed. He went from anxious every day to going through the motions pretty quickly. The type of research the scientists did each day varied to some extent, but it was similar enough that he began tuning it out. The Feeder was still the main subject of their scrutiny, and a day didn’t pass without Darwin being used extensively. He had even been invited to see its first evolution.

It was the end of the day, according to the digital clock on the wall. The only indicator other than his body’s own exhaustion, it was still taking some getting used to. Otto found himself disoriented when he woke up and it was a coin flip if he was bone-tired at the end of the day or filled with energy. He was assured by the scientists that the food served in the cafeteria was filled with “all the necessary nutrients for human survival,” a statement that would have been much more relieving if it wasn’t inevitably followed by a ‘probably.’

Darwin was unmanned, hanging from the ceiling with limp, half-curled limbs like a dead spider. Otto and the scientists were gathered below it, craning necks and shading their eyes against the fluorescents that refused to dim.

“When is it…” Lapo began, only to get hit on the arm by Maleera.

“Shh!” She hissed. “I don’t want to miss it!”

Karro and Jola had grins plastered on their faces while Braes was poised to take notes. Yaris looked the most concerned of the bunch. His arms were crossed and he kept tapping his foot, to Maleera’s displeasure. Every time she forced him to stop, he would start again moments later. He claimed it was involuntary; she did not agree.

Otto half expected it to get covered in a chrysalis and emerge a different color, streamlined and polished, or to shoot beams of light like a Pokémon.

“Where’s Ameris?” He asked. The group looked among themselves and shrugged.

“I haven’t seen him.” Jola said with a shrug. “He disappears sometimes.”

“Last I saw him was…five days ago?” Karro said, stroking his chin. Otto frowned; that was the last time he’d seen the man as well.

“This sort of thing isn’t his style, anyway.” Maleera said. “Now, hush! It’s starting!”

Otto looked up and saw that she was right.

Purple glyphs lit up along the rust-red arms of Darwin, reflecting off the pool below. The light grew until it was blinding, and then, it dulled.

A hazy purple copy began to overlay Darwin, like a hologram, flickering in and out of existence. It overlapped with it in some places and displayed new limbs in others, complete with brand new tools that he hadn’t seen before.

Most of them flickered out. The overlaying parts fizzled to nothing, while several of the limbs changed shape, moved on the machine, and vanished. At first, Otto thought it hadn’t worked.

The purple glyphs suddenly surged in both power and brightness, and the remaining purple limbs snapped into existence. When Otto blinked the dots from his eyes and looked up, several brand new rust-red limbs were attached to Darwin like they had been there all along.

The scientists started cheering, hugging each other and clapping. Yaris even let a slight smile creep onto his face, though Otto thought it was out of relief more than genuine joy.

Otto’s mouth was open while he looked at it, and even he had to admit it was incredible. He couldn’t even tell they were recently added; there were no seams showing where they were attached. It was like the machine had the tools all along, and they only now noticed.

“How does it work?” Otto wondered aloud.

“No idea.” Karro said, still smiling at it. Otto gave him an odd look.

“What?” The Jarran asked. “None of us are enchanters. How are we supposed to know?”

“I thought all Jarrans knew magic.” Otto said, feeling like he was pulling a Lapo. “That’s what we learn on Earth, at least. You guys are the mages who made the Donor.”

“All Jarrans have some capacity for what you would call ‘magic,’’ Karro said, “But it varies.”

“I have barely any aptitude at all.” Jola said, raising her hand. Karro nodded in her direction.

“Most Jarrans are a bit better than Jola, but only a bit. Most of our society uses magic for mundane things, or not at all.” He said.

“Ameris is the only Full mage in this compound. It’s why he’s in charge.” Braes said. There was a note of irritation in her voice. The group looked a bit uncomfortable, but nobody corrected her.

“Is that…normal?” Otto asked as delicately as he could muster.

Karro scratched his head. “Ameris is old fashioned, and so are the people who sponsor him. Full mages used to be in charge of everything until recently, since technology has begun to rival magic. People from the traditional faction, like Ameris, don’t like that. They like the old status quo.”

“They think they’re better than us since they’re Full.” Braes cut in. “They want the old caste system back, where Partial and Empty mages were entirely subservient. They can’t stand the idea that one of us might order around one of them.”

“Wish we’d stay in our places.” Yaris muttered.

Otto winced. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a sore subject. I thought that all Jarrans were good at magic. I didn’t realize there was much nuance.”

Karro shrugged. “That’s the image the government presents to other planets. We can’t fault you for believing it.”

The walk back from the observatory was uncomfortable and quiet. The unchanging white walls brightened to an uncomfortable degree by the overhead lights were starting to grate on Otto more than he would prefer. He still had more than a week to go.

The tube they walked in began to vibrate with increasing intensity, but none of them paid it any mind. Otto thought he would never get used to the Feeder killing system, but he barely noticed it anymore. He had learned that the method used to kill Feeders was through an actual honest-to-god science fiction laser that neatly cored their brain like an apple. It was strong enough that it shook the entire complex when it fired, which was usually once per day.

Around a minute after it started firing, Otto realized it hadn’t stopped. The vibrations were still going, growing with each passing second. That gave him some confusion; If the Jarrans were half as precise with their engineering as they were with their research, they would have the duration down to the nanosecond.

A large rumble ran through the ground, causing the group to stumble. Otto stabilized himself on the wall of the tube. The vibrations grew until it became difficult to stand, let alone walk properly, like a localized earthquake.

“What’s going on?” Otto asked. His voice came out more panicked than he intended, and he turned to the scientists.

Their expressions were much the same. Everyone turned to Karro, the de facto leader of the group.

He looked as confused as the rest of them. Otto felt a pit in his stomach begin to grow, and the fear he thought he had left behind since arrival reared its ugly head. Another rumble shook the tube, this time moving it back and forth. Maleera lost her footing and started to fall, and he reached out, grabbing and stabilizing her. He didn’t realize he had instinctively activated [Leviathan’s Mass] until he started wondering why he hadn’t been shaken as much as everyone else.

When did that start happening?

It was an inane thought, one that he didn’t have time for, but his brain was high on adrenaline. Each thought came lightning fast, dozens tearing through his brain at once. Maleera looked at him in thanks, and he noticed Jola was holding onto Braes. Lapo had fallen onto the floor and was struggling to get up, while Yaris was trying to give him a hand.

Karro’s face turned from idle confusion to real worry. The pit in Otto’s stomach grew deeper.

“We need to get to the hub.” He said to everyone. He was blinking rapidly, and he spoke almost absentmindedly, like he had forgotten he needed to lead. Lapo was still trying to get up, and Yaris looked about to lose his footing trying to help him.

Why is there nothing to grab on to? Otto thought angrily. Who builds eggshell smooth walls? No pipes, no grooves, nothing? He almost voiced the thought before catching himself. It wouldn’t help right now, no matter how frustrated he felt.

“Are you okay to stand?” He asked Maleera. She nodded hesitantly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Okay, good. I’m going to help Lapo. Don’t fall.” He suppressed a wince at his wording and staggered over. He waved Yaris’ hand away, and the man gratefully pushed himself back against the curvature of the tube. The vibrations never stopped.

Otto pressed one hand to the wall and reached another to Lapo. The Jarran took his hand and pulled on it, a life buoy thrown to a drowning man. He heaved hard, and if Otto hadn’t been under the effect of [Leviathan’s Mass], he would have fallen over with him. Instead, he was the anchor Lapo needed, and he helped him get to his feet.

“Thank you.” Lapo said. His voice was shaky, and he looked up at him with the same wide eyes Maleera had. When he looked around, they all had them. Anyone not looking to Karro was looking to him instead.

Otto had never thought about Jarran height much until that moment. It suddenly felt like he was surrounded by a bunch of children playing scientists; short, funny-looking kids in oversized white lab coats. Frightened, clutching to the first authority figure they found.

That’s me. Otto numbly realized. I’m the authority figure. I’m…security. I’m supposed to protect them.

He felt a surge of indignation at the idea. He had no idea what to do; he knew less about the emergency protocols than they did. He was barely sixteen; they were all double his age at least, probably more, and they were looking to him for protection?

You’re the Agreed. A voice in his head told him. It’s your responsibility.

Fuck my responsibility! I’m scared too! Another voice replied, but he shook his head of them both.

“Let’s go.” He said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Link hands if you need to. To the hub, right Karro?” He asked. The lead Jarran looked down the tube with glazed eyes; it had never looked longer.

“Karro.” Otto repeated, louder this time. He blinked and turned.

“Y-yes.” Karro said. “The hub. It’s the most sound part of the complex.”

“Okay. Everyone, follow me.” Otto said. His voice was steady, to his surprise.

He felt like an imposter. He was saying what he thought he should; they sounded hollow to his ears, what the protagonist might say in a bad action movie when crisis struck.

The Jarrans didn’t notice. They took his advice of linking hands – even though he had no idea if it would help – and started down the tube.

Progress was slow. The tube really did feel longer than ever, and while the vibrations weren’t growing demonstrably stronger, the quakes were frequent. Someone stumbled and fell more than once, and Otto had to carefully pick his way back and lift them, only able to keep his feet planted because of his skill.

“Nobody gets left behind,” he found himself saying. He spoke to fill the air, to distract himself as much as everyone else from what was happening. “We work together, we stay calm, we…” Otto trailed off. He’d ran out of things to say.

“What’s going on?” Maleera asked. She was the most rattled of the bunch, although that wasn’t saying much. She looked directly at Otto when she said it.

Otto grit his teeth hard. He resisted the urge to snap back with a ‘How am I supposed to know?’

“I don’t know.” He said. He felt her eyes on his back, expectant. Worried. He turned towards her.

“We’ll be okay.” He said. He tried forcing a smile, but it didn’t come. She visibly nodded and relaxed a bit, collecting herself. Otto turned back around, hunched, stalking forward as steadily as he could at a pace they could follow.

I hate this. He thought to himself. His thoughts felt like they were on fire, they came with such speed and vehemence.

I don’t want to be a hero. I want to go home. I want to complain while I’m told the holes I dug were half as deep as they need to be after sweating in the summer sun for hours on end. I never wanted this. Why me?

“Why me?” He repeated out loud. It was masked by another quake. Yaris stumbled and fell from this one, nearly taking Lapo down with him. He hit the ground hard, but pushed himself from the floor, grimacing hard all the while.

Is he favoring his left hand? Otto thought. There was no time to ask.

“Are you okay?” he heard Lapo say while they walked. Yaris grunted in reply, and that was that.

They pushed through the tube in tense silence. Every thirty seconds or so another quake would force them to stop and brace themselves against the walls. Otto was afraid the tube would collapse or split or detach from either side, but Karro – after some prodding to get him out of his stupor – denied it vehemently. The very idea seemed absurd to him.

Otto hoped he was right, because each quake made his heart beat faster. When the exit became visible, palpable relief flooded through his body, but he forced himself to keep moving at the same steady pace.

The lights above them flickered in and out, causing someone behind him to exclaim in surprise. Some of them came back, but most didn’t, until emergency lights flickered on from the corners, casting the spaces that had fallen into darkness from a lack of light into a dull red. It did nothing to assuage his fears, and even when he reached the exit, he kept glancing up at them.

The door, thankfully, split open to allow them through. They stumbled into the hub, the ground far more solid underneath their feet. The vibrations were more distant now, due to entering the sturdier hub or because they were subsiding entirely Otto didn’t know, but he was thankful either way. The quakes only shook the ground lightly, although the lighting in the main hub chamber was similarly scattered, some spaces illuminated perfectly while others had to settle for the dim red.

Otto let [Leviathan’s Mass] drop somewhat reluctantly. For all he hated being chosen as an Agreed and having these powers thrust upon him, he found that the comfort it had given him was difficult to let go of, even when he knew he was safe. If he wasn’t so filled with dread, he might have found the dichotomy funny.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Instead, his back was pressed against the wall and his eyes were closed. He was focused solely on his breathing, trying his best to calm himself down. He found himself falling into old habits; breathing exercises he had been taught in the wake of his parent’s passing, and from guidance counselors in bids to curb his temper. He had never felt they did much, but right now, he was desperate for anything to help him through.

The group was similarly recovering. Maleera was clutching the neckline of her shirt with a white knuckled grip while hyperventilating, and Jola was patting her on the back while she didn’t look much better. Lapo was arguing in whispers to Yaris who kept denying something and turning away, and Braes was prodding Karro, trying to get him out of his stupor.

Otto’s pit in his stomach only grew looking at it all. He had no idea what he was supposed to do in a situation like this; he had no crisis management skills or experience – in a situation like this, he was still young enough that he would be told to seek out a trusted adult.

Now, he was looking at the ‘trusted adults’ panicking the same as him.

“Hey!” Karro said suddenly. Everyone froze in what they were doing and turned to look at him. He glanced uneasily at Braes before licking his lips, speaking in a wavering, but slowly firming tone.

“There’s a few things we need to do.” He said. “Our…we have disaster protocols. We need to…to…” he stumbled, looking over to Braes. She whispered something in his ear.

“Right! We need to ensure all emergency services are functioning still. That means the generators are top priority since they make everything else functional. After that, heating, structural supports, food…”

He continued listing services of importance until, mid-sentence, the Donor went haywire.

Screens flickered at the edge of Otto’s vision, popping up and vanishing before he could read them. Fuzz like TV static flickered in and out until all at once, it stopped.

From the other’s reactions, they’d had the same experience.

“What happened?” Maleera asked. Otto felt himself relax; he had feared the worst, that the Donor had broken completely. Instead, it looked like it had only been a temporary issue.

“I’m not having sure.” Karro replied. “The [Interplanetary Metaphysical Editor] appears to having failure.”

Otto blinked at the words, almost not noticing something was wrong until Karro kept speaking.

“Can you guys understand me?” Otto asked.

Everyone looked at him. Karro cocked his head, while Jola, Braes, and Maleera furrowed their brow’s.

“I thought you were having knowledge that we are not all males.”

Otto groaned and shook his head. “I know, sorry. The Donor isn’t translating properly. I used slang.”

Karro’s face darkened, and he started tapping on something Otto couldn’t see. After a few seconds, he grimaced.

“The local [Editor’s] connection to the [planet of hairless apes] is having broken.” He said. “Translation will having trouble; it only is having access to local understanding, which is limited.”

Otto suppressed a sigh. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen – it was miles better than if the Donor had somehow failed completely, but it was just another thing on the pile.

“Can you having understanding of my words?” Karro asked Otto. He had expected the man to recede back into his shell following the Donor’s issues, but it seemed to be the opposite. It was like this was a more familiar crisis than whatever had gone wrong earlier, and now he wasn’t as nervous.

Otto nodded in reply.

“That is having goodness. Now: We will split like this…” He listed out pairs of names. Otto waited for his own to be called, but it never was. At the end, Karro turned in his direction.

“Otto, you will check the source of the convulsions. I will be guiding you until it becomes having too much danger.”

His stomach dropped. “Why me?”

Karro cocked his head. “You are Agreed. You must fulfill your obligation.”

“I-I know that.” Otto said, somewhat flustered. “But why won’t any of you come with me?”

The Jarrans shifted uncomfortably, sharing glances. After a few seconds of silence, Karro begrudgingly spoke up.

“It is governmental procedure to utilize Agreed in place of Jarrans when the situation is having much danger.” Karro said. He gave Otto a thin, nervous, placating look.

“You must understand. It is…procedure.” He said .

Otto looked back at him. None of the other Jarrans would meet his gaze, all finding something interesting on the walls or floor to study instead. He felt his throat burn with unsaid words, but he cut them off.

What could he say? That he wouldn’t do it? That he was angry with them for throwing him towards danger the moment things turned bad?

He had to do it. He was an Agreed; he didn’t know the consequences for refusal, but since he never heard of it happening and the person coming back home to Earth, he imagined they were severe.

Nothing bad will happen, Otto. He spat in his head. You won’t have to do anything dangerous. We’re perfectly safe.

His expression must have been darker than he intended, because Karro grimaced and started speaking, “I’m sorry, but-“

Otto cut him off. “Just show me where to go.” He said. His whole body felt like it was vibrating with nerves, fear, and a non-insignificant amount of anger, none of which that had any outlet. The whole situation felt like his nightmares made manifest, his greatest cynicisms regarding Jarrans and Agreed being confirmed in one fell swoop.

He never wanted to be an Agreed, but it was okay, since he would only be on Babylon. It would be years before he was summoned for the first time, if at all.

He was summoned as security, but it was okay, because they were in a state of the art base at the bottom of the ocean that was safer than anything on Earth.

He had no authority, no autonomy, no freedom to make his own decisions, but that was okay because the local Jarrans were kind enough to try making him feel as comfortable as possible. They wanted to focus on their research, not pushing around a necessary but undesired Agreed.

The lights near them flickered out and were replaced by emergency red. Several of the Jarrans flinched, and Otto kept staring at Karro. He looked away first.

“We will check the preemptive defense mechanism first. It is having the most likelihood of source of the failure.”

* * *

The journey to the tunnel was filled with tense silence. Karro walked ahead of Otto, although he didn’t seem comfortable doing so. They had traveled in a direction from the hub that he had never gone before, towards the opposite of where the dormitory and cafeteria were. The further they went, the less normal lights were functioning, and the more it was bathed entirely in red.

Otto couldn’t help but think they were going in the right direction.

They reached the tunnel that apparently lead to the laser which periodically killed Feeders, and they stopped.

The tunnels, usually flush with the wall until approached to open, was already cracked over halfway. It, thankfully, didn’t look forced open, but Otto still felt it was an ill omen. The jigsaw shaped sides were stuck in a half-open half-closed limbo, wide enough for him to pass through if he ducked and turned his body a bit.

Karro looked at it with concern, and back to Otto.

“Please be remembering: if you spot anything unordinary, remember it and telling me when you return.”

Otto glanced back at him and tried to hide his nerves, walking to the tunnel instead of replying.

He hadn’t liked the plan when he was first told it, and he didn’t like it anymore when they got into details. He was going somewhere potentially dangerous to survey a machine that he didn’t understand for damage or signs of malfunction. When he voiced these to the Jarrans, they had waved away his concerns.

In their opinion, the damage would be rather obvious. To their surprise, that didn’t make him feel any better.

There wasn’t a single normally functioning light in the entire tunnel. All the way down, all he saw was red and the occasional flickering white, but it never lasted long. The white walls were drowned in crimson that was only abated by those flickers, and the reveal only made Otto more uncomfortable. He almost wished the lights would stop flickering all together; at least then he might get used to all the red.

It was dead silent. The vibrations had stopped, and there hadn’t been a quake in nearly twenty minutes at this point. The only sounds were his heart thumping in his ears and his poor attempts at controlling his breathing. His chest rose and fell in a forced slow rhythm, one that only barely didn’t make him dizzy. He desperately wanted to start breathing faster, but he knew if he started, he would end up hyperventilating.

Calm down. He told himself. The vibrations stopped. The quakes have slowed. Even if there is structural damage, it hasn’t collapsed yet, so you’re probably fine.

He eyed the red walls.

Besides. It would only be structural damage. It’s not like there’s a monster lurking around the corner or something. This was all caused by a malfunction like the scientists were saying. Nothing more.

I hope.

He reached the end of the tube, where another door waited for him. This one was sealed shut like usual, and as he approached, it opened. Or attempted to.

The door split open and got stuck halfway. It started to close and immediately tried opening again, jamming again. It repeated this a couple more times, and Otto moved to try helping it open.

The doors pushed beyond whatever was jamming it and with a dangerous sounding grating noise, slid open all the way. Otto could almost imagine the building’s sigh of relief when they stuck open, but he was preoccupied with what he saw in the next room.

It wasn’t hard to piece together what it used to be. It was a large room with glass on all sides, giving a view into the infinite blackness of the deep ocean. In the center of the room was a massive octagonal metal box that came to a point almost like a pencil, though he imagined its point operated more like the barrel of a gun. It rested on a rotating platform that offered 360 degree mobility, and even was capable of tilting up and down.

Glowing light blue glyphs lined the top and bottom of the windows, while red ones circled the barrel. An attachment the size of a computer monitor back on Earth was affixed to the side with a dazzling mosaic of intricate, tiny green glyphs across the entire surface.

The vibrations Otto had felt the other days were caused by the machine he was looking at. It would build up energy and expel it through the barrel out into the deep sea, spearing Feeders to appease the truly massive denizens of the ocean, to keep them away from the curious structure that had appeared in their domain. It shot with such high energy and with such force that it shook the entire complex.

Now, the once impressive machine was in ruins.

The barrel was melted slag, and globs of once molten metal were frozen dripping down the side like rain down a window. Few of the runes on the machine were still active, most no longer glowing while the few that were dimmed and re-brightened, gasping for air.

The machine was half-fallen off of the pedestal, and it was a miracle it hadn’t tumbled to the ground completely, barely holding itself up by just a few connected plates. The green glyph mosaic, once impressive, was covered in hairline fractures, and a single large one down the center.

Otto slowly picked his way into the room, stepping over fallen debris and piles of hopefully no longer molten metal. The blue glyphs on the walls were mostly intact, although around a quarter of them had lost their light.

“At least it was obvious.” Otto muttered to himself. He approached the glass, surprised that it hadn’t received any damage despite being at the center of the quakes. Something else about it bothered him in the back of his mind, but he only realized when he reached out to touch it.

His finger dipped into freezing cold saltwater, and he pulled it back instantly like he’d been bitten. He stumbled back, tripping over a hardened mound of metal and landing painfully on his side. He scrambled away, pressing his back against the machine, uncaring that it was also in ruins.

“There’s no glass.” He said to nobody at all. He looked around the room at the surrounding, open gaps in the walls, somehow keeping the water at bay.

Otto looked up at the blue glyphs. He suspected they were holding it back, and suddenly three quarters remaining didn’t seem like so much of a win. He wouldn’t have been comfortable standing in the room before it was damaged, but now?

He shot to his feet, making his way towards the door. Why was he sticking around? The room could implode in moments; if those blue glyphs failed, the ocean would correct the pressure imbalance with prejudice, uncaring of the human inside being crushed to a fine red mist in the process.

Just as he was about to exit, he paused, and looked down at his wet finger.

“Shouldn’t you be crushed?” he whispered. He hesitantly brought it to his mouth and touched his tongue to it, hearing the warnings of every science teacher he ever had about how taste was the only sense they were not allowed to use echo in his ears.

It was salty. It tasted like ocean water.

The thought crossed his mind, and he barked a manic laugh.

“It sure does taste like ocean water.” He said, staring out of the gap in the wall. All he saw was blackness. “I wonder why.”

Otto looked back down at his finger, tasted the salt in his mouth, and started shaking his head. He walked out of the room, hurrying down the tunnel.

“I’m going insane.” He said. “I must be. There’s no other explanation. What am I doing?”

One thought kept nagging at him as he walked down the hallway. He raised his pointer finger in front of his face, and he found himself piecing together a few different things.

Everyone seemed confident that I would be fine, even if the building collapsed and we were stranded at the bottom of the ocean. I have a skill called [Abyssal Body]. My finger didn’t turn to wet dust the moment I stuck it through the shooting-window.

I guess they were right.

I don’t feel any better.

Knowing that if the facility imploded and took everyone with it that he would be the lone survivor, alone, at the bottom of a foreign world’s ocean, without anyone else, surrounded by monstrous gargantuan creatures, alone, didn’t help his anxieties. He would almost rather be taken out with the rest of them if something went wrong; instant implosion seemed a preferable way to die compared to getting eaten by a giant aquatic monster.

Otto shook his head. Sweat beaded down his forehead, and he wiped it away.

“Don’t think like that.” He said quietly to himself, “It will be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

He squeezed through the half open door and noticed Karro waiting for him. The Jarran was tense, tapping his foot rapidly against the floor while he waited. Otto scuffed his foot, and while Karro jumped at the noise, when he turned and saw Otto he relaxed significantly.

“Did you trip having good luck?”

Otto grimaced when he heard the translation.

“The…preventive laser machine is broken.” He said. He couldn’t remember its actual name, but Karro got the message. He bit his lower lip nervously.

“It can be repaired?” He asked hopefully.

Otto slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. A lot of it was melted off onto the floor. Many of the glyphs are broken.”

He deflated, but nodded anyway.

“Why are you waiting for me here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be with the others?” Otto asked.

Karro shifted uneasily while they walked, glancing towards him and away.

“I was having worry that the others would think me hovering.” He said calmly. Otto side-eyed him as they walked, but shrugged it off.

They returned to the designated meeting place – the break room that he had met them all in initially – and found everyone to be already waiting. Most everyone relaxed when they saw them enter, but curiously, Braes sat back and glared at Karro the entire time. He avoided her gaze.

Each person reported individually. Otto had been so inundated with bad news becoming worse on the day that when everyone spoke, he was mildly stunned.

Most everything was working properly. Whatever controlled the output of food and water in the cafeteria was still functioning, the dormitories were undamaged and all utilities were functioning, and the generators were functioning without a hitch.

The facility’s doctor had apparently refused to join the meeting but, according to Jola, he said he was “ Of course capable of healing anyone who needs it. What do you think I’m here for?”

That was good news, not that Otto wanted to be in need of any healing. He would rather the option be available than not, though.

The only two things that were truly damaged were the ‘preemptive defense mechanism’ and potentially the tunnels.

“The integrity of several tunnels is having weakness.” Braes reported. “I checked the mainframe’s disaster panel alone,” She glared at Karro, “And did not like what I was having seeing.”

She pulled out a physical map of the facility and rolled it out on the conference table. It was larger than Otto thought, with more tubes and chambers than he had ever explored on his own. Not that he had done much exploration.

Tubes that had no structural damage were left untouched, which was a scant few. The ones with any level of structural damage were colored in with red marker according to how much; fully covered meant they had already collapsed or were about to, a quarter meant it had sustained damage but nothing too serious as long as the quakes remained absent, and so on. A knot twisted in Otto’s gut when he saw the tunnel he had traversed to the laser-turret’s room was over half colored in. He tore his attention to it, pointing to a small pair of chambers at the very bottom of the facility. Both tunnels leading to it were nearly fully colored in.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Ameris’ chambers.” Lapo said. Otto blinked up at him.

“Has anyone seen him?” he asked with concern. The man was, quite frankly, an asshole, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die stranded with nobody attempting to help.

The group glanced at each other and shrugged. Otto took that as a ‘no.’

“He’s probably fine.” Lapo eventually said. “Other than you, he is having the best chance of survival if the facility imploded.”

The other researchers shot him dark glares at his words, and he held up his hands, a look of slight surprise on his face. “What? We all are knowing there is a chance. A small one, I am having thanks for.”

“So…we’re leaving him?” Otto asked with some surprise. They didn’t really like Ameris, or so he had gathered, but he hadn’t expected them to leave him like that.

“His chambers are having disaster supplies like the facility has. Generator. Food. Water.” Karro said. “He is safe.” His eyes slid to the tunnels.

“…Just stuck.” He added after a moment. He clapped his hands together.

“Okay. I am having a plan.” He said, a bit cheerfully. “We are safe here. The structural damage is in tubes we are not having need for. We are having had a corpse-owner’s lever with the Donor to home. A signal has been having sent every day. Since we are cut off, it will be stop. Help will come soon. Few days at most.”

After Otto took a few moments deciphering what he was saying through the janky translation, he almost cried out in relief. They had a deadman’s switch in case of an emergency exactly like this one occurred, and with the Donor losing connection to its siblings on other worlds – namely the Jarran home planet – it would trigger, and they would know something is wrong. Help would come, and if there was any benevolent force in the universe, Otto would get to go home.

“What about Osthenos?” Yaris suddenly asked. He had the most emotion Otto had ever seen him express, his face a mask of grief and outrage.

Karro’s eyes slid towards him. “…We leave it. And having hope it can be salvaged when the time comes.”

Yaris’ eyes blazed with fury. “We cannot leave it-“

“We must, Yaris.” Maleera cut in. Her eyes were sunken with stress, and she wrung her hands with it. She had been the most quiet of everyone in the meeting up until now. “It is not worthwhile having death over a machine.”

“It is not just a machine!” Yaris yelled, standing and slamming his hand on the table. The moment he did he exclaimed in pain, grabbing his wrist and cradling his hand. Tears sprung into the corners of his eyes, clutching it close to his chest.

“Yaris?” Jola asked, rushing over to look. He pulled away, trying to hide his hand from her. She grabbed his head and pointed it towards her.

“Show me.” She said in a tone that brokered no argument. He carefully uncurled his hand, letting her inspect it. She poked it a few times, and he winced each time in return. She tsked.

“It’s broken.” Jola said, looking back up at him. “When did this happen?”

He looked away, refusing to reply. Jola tapped him hard on the forehead. He flinched.

“…Tunnel. Earlier. When I was having a fall.”

She tsked again. “You should have told us.” She grabbed his good hand and pulled him up. “Come. I am taking you to Garrelis.”

“I will be-“

“Now.” She said. Yaris, wisely, shut his mouth and followed her out of the room.

A few moments after they left, Otto turned to Karro, confused.

“Osthenos?” He asked. He hadn’t heard the name before.

Karro cocked his head at him. “Osthenos. The machine. You were having presence there when we named it.”

It dawned on him what he was talking about.

“You didn’t-“ Otto began, and he realized he didn’t know how to continue the sentence.

I thought you named the machine after a famous scientist from my home to make me more comfortable. He almost laughed.

That was pretty self-centered of me.

“Who was Osthenos?”

Karro shrugged. “Ancient Jarran scientist. Very old. Discovered…” he struggled for the word, probably trying to keep it simple for Otto and the Donor’s translation. “Adaptation. In nature. He studied beetles; very famous. Dead now Loooong dead.”

Otto leaned back in his chair, thanking him. He glanced up in the air, where he always imagined the Donor would be. Somewhere in the ephemeral ‘above.’

When I get home, I’m telling Earth’s Donor that those translations could be a little less…helpful. He thought. I thought they were trying so hard to make me comfortable they named their precious machine after someone I’d know.

When I get home.

A little voice in the back of his head couldn’t help but correct him, no matter how much he tried to silence it.

If.