The data server golem’s entire soul gem entered Amelia in an instant, overwhelming her core, her modules, and her very mind.
There was just SO MUCH energy.
The raw power involved was such that her body was unable to move while forced to process it. She could not even pick herself off the ground.
Her HUD, once blocked severely by the mana dampeners, finally switched back to life. Her Access Core greeted her with a simple question:
Amelia, welcome back.
Soul detected. Would you like to incorporate or convert?
“Incorporate...” she muttered.
Are you sure?
The detected soul has an immense power level.
It may not process well.
“Do it...!”
The Access Core did not appear in the HUD again for a moment, as if hesitating to comply with her actions.
Got it, Amelia.
Soul incorporation process beginning. Memory containment underway.
Please do not turn on any new modules or enter power-saving mode until the process is complete.
...
...
Soul incorporated.
You can access new memories in the DBG-0003 sub-section.
And, suddenly, a whole new being flowed into her mind, with all its thoughts and memories.
She saw it all at once, and yet somehow not at all. It came to her knowledge as if it had always been there, utterly incompatible with her life, yet just as real in so many crucial ways. The data server golem’s life was now hers.
And yet it was so powerful, so vast that it threatened to erode her herself.
The insight grew.
First, its creator: Turr Williams, head of Research & Development for the North Sunwell Company. Seven years ago. Older than Amelia by a year. Perhaps a prototype of what Amelia might have become, or what they had wanted her to be.
She saw Turr’s scrunched-up face, his short stature staring her—or, rather, the golem—and scowling menacingly before he berated it for the lack of results. What was supposed to be the most intelligent golem ever created was unable to replicate any of the functions he had wanted. For all his golemancy, he simply could not understand why this thing had failed. Why it had not shown the powers that they needed to advance Fleettwixt itself. The golem did not know, and could not answer.
Then it was in eternal dream.
Hooked up to a data server terminal with vast control and knowledge of an entire facility, operating the flow of goods and people and time, the logistics of an industry it had no conscious knowledge of.
This golem was innocent, as most were. But even in its dreaming state, it still bore witness to so much around it. The full histories of the facility. Every check-in, every alarm tripping, every movement of goods. Brief glimpses of golems accessing its terminals, inputting information for some remote third party. Then its attempts to destroy those golems before they stole too much of itself. Then its erasure of evidence of this breach one day before Turr Williams arrived for an inspection.
Fourland and North Sunwell, connected so much so that Fourland itself barely even existed.
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A handsome elven accountant coming into a building, and then behind him a man of orcish heritage. Just an image for one split-second before it swirled into something else. It was darker.
Something happened with these memories—they attempted to eat at Amelia’s. The information was too big, too wide-ranging. It could not fit in her memory banks, nor in her mind.
And as the golem’s final piece of vengeance, it set upon itself, in all its incorporative fury, to destroy Amelia’s sense of being. Her own life.
Somewhere in Amelia’s mind, some ethereal place with no true location, this energy-filled being set down its feet and began to attack her.
Its limbs and fingers stretched out into massive tendrils, curving and twisting until they were more vast a network than the roots of a crystal fern. They chased Amelia through her own mind, looking for scenes of Ed, scenes of murder, the very things Amelia held dear, and trying to wipe them out and replace them with error logs, with employee rolls.
Another one is coming, it said to her. We must become one and join it. We must awaken what is coming, so that peace can finally return to our great land. Do you understand?
Amelia absolutely did not understand, and she did not want to.
She did the only thing she could—she fought back. Fought by punching, by swatting, by grabbing the tendrils and pulling them until they ripped like shoddy wet shirts.
They were endless, but so was her love, and so was her anger. She would not let a failure like this golem conquer her mind. She would erase as much of it as necessary to preserve its essence, and that was it. If this thing truly wished to end her life, it would come up very disappointed.
She swam through a sea of limbs and wailing sounds until it reached the golem’s core. Not a soul gem, but just its head and torso, crying out in pain about its brief, tortured existence.
She felt pity. But she did not feel anything stronger than that.
So when she pulled the golem apart, and the battle in her mind’s eye vanished, she was given a spark of clarity that jolted her back to life.
Still in the room. Still in the factility. Still with Hummer standing over her.
Amelia sprang to her feet and—Well, there was nothing going on here. No fights, just golems standing patiently at the door, and a concerned young woman backing away from her.
She was absolutely drenched in sweat. And, she learned another valuable lesson about soul incorporation in the process: Do not attempt it without fully accepting the risk. She nearly lost herself entirely. Even now she wondered how much of the outer periphery of her mind had been eaten away, and if she would ever even be able to notice.
“How long was I out?”
“Two minutes, maybe three,” Hummer said. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
“I incorporated the data server golem.”
“And...?”
“Its memories are mine,” she said. Besides the things she was forced to erase to make room, but she did not want to trouble Hummer with the details right now. “I know the entire layout here. I know—”
The alarm shifted, going to a new sound that was higher pitched, but only ever so slightly.
“Damn,” Amelia said. “Stealing the data server means the alarm has gone into highest level. The golems out there will attack immediately.”
And that they did. What were once still statues became bashing, thrashing machines attempting to make their way into this room at all costs. All collateral damage accepted.
“No worries,” Amelia said. With one terminal in the room still operable, all she had to do was walk over, type in the appropriate commands, and then with her own mana, send it throughout the facility.
The alarms shifted again, this time to a cheery tune, but only three times before it ceased completely.
The golems, too, stopped attempting to break into the room. They did not leave, however.
Hummer looked at Amelia, begging for an explanation.
“I can control the entire facility now,” she said. “I’ve turned off the entire security system. And the mana dampeners, so if you know any spells, feel free to let loose. And I have a log of every visitor to ever check in, going back for the past three years.”
“That’s kind of amazing. But... a little creepy, too.”
“There’s something extremely important I’ve discovered.” Amelia took a deep breath before continuing. “There is one man who is highly connected to both Fourland and North Sunwell. A man who visits this facility on a monthly basis. A man who is here RIGHT NOW.”
Hummer’s eyes popped. “What? Who?”
“His name is Castien Brielwa. An accountant. He’s in the west wing conference room. In some sort of meeting.”
“Then let’s go get him!” Hummer exclaimed. “We can end all this right here.”
“The only problem is the golems in our way. They aren’t aggressive now, but when they see us, they’ll attack immediately.”
“Then we’ve just got to attack first.”
“Maybe you weren’t so bad to have along,” Amelia said. She handed Hummer her flintlock. “Take mine. We’ve only got the blastpowder for one shot each. So shoot wisely.”
“Will do.” Hummer paused and them smiled. “Just gotta say, it’s been an absolute joy, coming with you. Thanks for putting up with me.”
Amelia looked away from her and turned her attention to the door. “You’re welcome.”
Time to make it to the meeting.
The two women burst out, slinging their fists and sword with the determination of people who knew what they were doing would make a difference.