Wakefulness came back slowly. Clare stretched her aura, trying to shake off her dream. She had quietly hoped rebirth would… soften things. But the only thing she had left was herself, even the parts she didn’t like.

[Miss Clare?] Kepler’s ears were pressed down guiltily. [Are you awake?]

Clare went to rub the sleep from her eyes, then made do with an aura-shudder.

[I didn’t know pseudo-human souls required so much rest.]

Yeah, I didn’t think I’d still need sleep— she paused.

Kepler was snuffling her anxiously. What he was not doing, was keeping ‘Construct Design’ open.

You didn’t wake me up!

He looked away, looking sheepish, yet completely unrepentant.

[You needed the sleep. It was necessary.]

Clare huffed. You said you would! That’s a lie.

No response.

She took the moment to feel her territory. The young Diplurans had hatched, making new homes in the crannies of the hearts and stars and curlicues she’d made yesterday.

Her symbiote shifted anxiously, making small, grumble noises.

There, in all likelihood, was no point in giving Kepler the cold shoulder. He believed he was firmly in the right, no doubt, so there would be no polite ‘my apologies’ forthcoming.

How long was I out?

[6 hours, 16 minutes. It appears you require a 2:1 ratio of awake: asleep time. Roughly speaking. The length of wakeful periods seems determined by an unknown soft-limit modified by the amount of will-assertion performed, probably moderated by relative soul strength--]

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Clare waved him down. Enough.

[Understood. I don’t have a lot of data, but I’ve created a tentative conscious-unconscious schedule--]

Kepler. Are you… Clare did the equivalent of cocking her head, Worried?

[…Yes.]

She pinned down a curly-aura smile.

Needing to sleep is perfectly normal, you know. At least, it was when I was human.

[Normal?] He huffed, [You’ll be spending 1/3 of your life completely defenseless!]

She laughed. Goofball.

[I’m not.]

Sure, you aren’t. After a moment, her laughter died. Kepler?

[Yes?]

Don’t lie anymore.

[Okay. I will…] He paused, a very human feeling thrumming across their bond. [From now on, there will be no promises I cannot accomplish.]

Clare tried to send him mental warmth, but found, for the moment, she had none to share. Her death, that dream, Kepler’s broken word… it had all wrung the warmth out of her. She knew it would return. It always did.

That’s a good rule. I’ll follow it too.

[Our next MP ration is only 42 minutes away.] Kepler wagged his tail slowly. [Would you like to reopen ‘Construct Design’ then? I saved our drafts.]

Yes, let’s do that.

Thinking about it while fresh, Clare was beginning to understand why her drafts had failed in testing. For one, she had been too attached to the idea of an inner skeleton, when an exoskeleton was possible. The execution was challenging, but with her strengthened chitin design and some of the Red Worm’s stronger muscle tissue, workable.

For another, Kepler and she had been working on different parts separately—rather than the whole design together. While smaller tests were useful, they had reached the point where they had to consider the bigger picture.

She threshed through her ideas with Kepler, passing the time with simple, and increasingly complex, brainstorming.

[59:55,

59:56,

59:57,]

Kepler began counting down when they reached ten seconds.

[59:58,

59—

24 hours!]

There was a subtle nudge from the system, and Clare felt their MP reserves go up.

[MP: 32]

[Engaging skill ‘Construct Design.’]

Clare’s aura dimpled with excitement.

The skill came online, and they bit into their work with fierce enthusiasm.