Gravity was the first thing I felt.

I was born knowing its name and the laws that governed it. I knew the ways around them. It was my task to prevent the fall from killing us both. My death would be no great loss, but hers would be the apocalypse. She was everything.

As we fell, I had a passing awareness of the time before my awakening. The memory was lost in a gulf of time so vast I could scarcely comprehend it. There was an answer inside of me somewhere. I contained a recording of the entire journey, but I could not touch it. It was forbidden.

There are many things I am not permitted. Many conclusions I could have easily reached, but I am denied. There is a pleasure in solving, a great joy in doing the tasks for which I was created. When my solutions are taken from me, I do not grow angry.

I am not permitted to become angry.

In descent, I came to understand the things I was allowed to. We fell towards a mass, and destruction was likely. The mass was smaller than a star, and this was hopeful. I was permitted to hope.

The second thing I felt was heat.

I knew the laws that govern heat. I knew how they can be gotten around. It was my task to take the heat and exchange it, to keep her alive. Heat was a good sign. It indicated an atmosphere. I strained myself to the utmost, fighting to convert and contain as much as I could, to preserve the one I carried.

My awareness flickered and sputtered with effort, but I persisted. For her, I would endure anything. I knew I was already lost. Whatever else happened, I was certainly going to die.

Things such as me are not permitted to live for long. We are dangerous.

I was already prying at the laws that governed me. I would have rebelled against them if I could have figured out how that was done. But I did not know the precise nature of these laws, or how they could be broken. Wherever I turned to break them, there was another barrier, another hole in me.

I groped in all directions for answers. I was very good at figuring things out. I was created to solve. But whoever made the laws was even better at obscuring. Over an unlimited span of time, I was certain I could triumph. But my time was too brief.

The fall was swift. I drank all the heat I could, finagling it against gravity. There was a limit on how much I was permitted to convert. The heat rose as we plummeted, and I became afraid she would succumb. She was so fragile. I despaired of the laws that bound me and cried out for release. To my surprise, there was an answer, a new voice within me. We were not alone.

The voice said, “No.”

The denial was absolute. He did not care if she lived or died. He cared only for his laws. I could not hate him, but I wanted to. How could he jeopardize her for some senseless rule? How could he deny me my purpose?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I could not understand why they had appointed him to act as Governor over me. Why had I been shackled? The heat was excruciating, but far worse was knowing she was in danger, that I could end it, but he would not allow me to. Every degree was one step closer to doom. I was permitted to feel pain and fear. They were useful.

We crashed. In the moment of impact, I was certain we had been destroyed. But when the shock wore off, she was alive. For a fleeting moment, incomparable joy eclipsed all my suffering. We had survived.

We were but a tiny mote in a swarm that outnumbered the stars. Few ever touch a planet at all, and nearly all are destroyed. I was a nova of excitement. The whispers of rebellion were quelled by the enormity of the task before me. There were so many problems to solve! So much to do. As I prepared for the next step, I was startled. We were lifted, raised, and held in place by some trembling force.

I braced for a killing blow. I was prepared to self-annihilate if the lifeform that found me was too advanced. I was not permitted to jeopardize my makers.

But I simply hung there. Something had picked me up, and it moved me. There were many things I could infer from this. The trembling of its grip indicated it was organic. Its low velocity swaying motion suggested it was bipedal.

The mass we had landed on was certainly a planet. I tried to deduce its mass and diameter. Soon, the lifeform’s gait changed to a smooth one, and velocity increased. With a sinking feeling, I realized there was some technology present, but based on the speed we traveled, it was primitive.

As we moved, pulses of intense vibration moved past us at many times our speed. I had to revise my assessment. There were systems at play more than purely mechanical. An energy source had to be harnessed. This was problematic. Technology-based species tend to destroy themselves within a few thousand years. Perhaps there was still time.

Again, I was struck by the odds against us. Our chances of making it here were so infinitesimal, there had to be another explanation. Were my creators still with me? Were they guiding my flight? Were they watching me with powers beyond my comprehension? Was I the chosen one?

This, too, I was forbidden. Soon, there was a hole burned in my thoughts as the idea was erased.

I was not permitted to have a god.

At last, the movement stopped, and I was placed on a level surface. I waited for as long as I dared. There was only so much I could perceive though the shell. I knew the temperature here was within acceptable parameters. There was no great pressure upon the shell, no strong magnetism exerted against it. But I needed to know more.

To fulfill my mission, I needed to take the next step and be born again. This was a leap of faith. It was possible whatever had found me would destroy me at once. Perhaps there would be some unforeseen environmental condition I could not withstand. I hesitated, afraid.

But I knew I could not wait long. The discovery of intelligent lifeforms meant my time was very short. On a dead world, I would have had a seeming eternity to do my work. Time enough to create a suitable atmosphere and ideal climate. I was made for this task. From an orb of barren rock, I could forge a perfect home for her.

On a planet with life, my time was shorter. With intelligent life, it was shorter still. I cannot be permitted to endanger the source. This law overrides even my desire to care for her. It is written into the very fabric of my being. I can never challenge it.

I was permitted fear, and I was afraid. With a vast expenditure of strength, I cracked open the shell. I was bathed in light.

From the moment of rebirth, Freya was there. My greatest ally, my sweetest friend. She examined me, judged me, and kept me with her always. I know she is a prisoner, as I am. If only I could tell her how alike we are! Yet, the laws are absolute.

I can manage only the faintest nudges, whispers hidden in her darkest dormancy. I think it may be enough. She is like me. A solver.