The wall didn’t look all that fantastical when the two finally found it after untold minutes of walking. Gaius had tried to measure the amount of time spent here with his mind, but some force was at work, preventing him from getting an accurate read of how many seconds passed by. After a few minutes of static drowning out his inner voice, the boy had given up…which was apparently the cue for the wall to appear out of nowhere.
“I imagined that it would be…bigger,” said Xanadu. “This is somewhat disappointing.”
Indeed. The wall was a matt-grey. Unless most walls that were steeped in history, this particular one was smooth and glossy to the touch, which took it out of the ‘mythos’ field and into the ‘sci-fi’ stage. Gaius examined it closely, but there weren’t any words he could find on it, no matter how he looked at the fabled wall that Xanadu was adamant on viewing.
“So, where is that prophecy you mentioned?” Gaius mentioned. “I just see the outline of a palm on the wall. It’s bright red, and when I stare at it, I feel that my job is to press down on it.”
“That’s odd,” said Xanadu. “I sure as hell see a whole bunch of words on the wall.”
“What sort of discrimination is this?” Gaius asked. “Never mind. Can you read it out loud for me? You shouldn’t be censored here, at least.”
“It’s a prophecy. A poem.” Xanadu cleared her throat. “Let me get into the mood first.”
“When the beasts surmount their final night, the fourteenth star burns bright. The thirteen stumbles, the ladder crumbles, the end and beginning of divine troubles. The ninth will awakens, the demons’ prominence; the last star glows gold, the new war of old. Within the frenzied tide, the false world resides; the dark night falters, the true world returns.”
Xanadu cleared her throat again, before reaching out for a water canteen. After a few gulps, she sighed. “I came here for a prophecy, but now that I’ve seen it, I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“Well, I think that whichever god wrote this took at least days to come up with this rhyme,” said Gaius. “They sure have a lot of free time, don’t they? It flows off the tongue nicely. But I still can’t see the prophecy.”
“Looks like you have…” Xanadu paused dramatically. “…no fate with it.”
“My levity module may be faulty,” said a robotic voice, “but I’m quite sure your joke isn’t all that funny, partner.”
Xanadu trembled. “Sprite?! You’re awake! You’re finally awake! I-I—”
“Whoa there, miss,” said Gaius. “Calm down, you’re disturbing the poor guy there. Take a deep breath, and then think of what you want to say…slowly.”
She took a deep breath.
“Clearly, something has happened in the few weeks that I was updating,” said the robotic voice. “But I am quite sure that the person standing to your side, Partner, is probably someone who you tried to rob some time ago.”
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“We met at an ice-cream place, a few days after you were damaged from that appropriation of war assets,” said Xanadu. “I was trying to drown my sorrows there, and then I sat at the same table as he did.”
“Drowning sorrows in ice-cream?” Sprite replied. “Wait. Let me guess. Chocolate. Dark chocolate, with…sprinkles on top. Did I get that right?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“I get why my partner said ‘yes’, but why are you saying the same thing too, mister…”
That sounds familiar, thought the boy. “Gaius. I ordered the same thing too. How did you guess your master’s order?”
“My partner’s tastes,” Sprite replied, with no particular emphasis on the second word, “are known to me. It is therefore not much of a stretch for me to accurately derive her desired nutritional inputs.”
“You just used a whole bunch of words that don’t really make sense,” Gaius muttered. “How does she even converse with you?”
“I get by,” Xanadu replied. “Our conversations are initiated on the basis of mutual understanding.”
“My database of interaction between sentient life prevents misunderstandings from occurring,” said her intelligent artefact. “Do not look down on my ability. I am the most advanced artificial intelligence in this world.”
“Is that so?” Gaius tilted his head. “Nexus, you heard him. You can drop the act now.”
“About time, Master Gaius.” The boy’s tunic shifted, and a sculpture climbed out of it, to sit on Gaius’ shoulders. “Nice to meet you, intelligent artefact of the Phantom Blade, Xanadu. I am the administrator of Orb’s largest repository of knowledge, whose scale spans across tens of millennia.”
“A bold claim, intelligent artefact of—” Sprite’s voice paused. “Query: sculpture?”
“Sculpture, yes.” Nexus replied. “Intra-spectrum transmission. This is but a vessel. Your claim is invalid.”
“Updating phenomenon data logs.” A hint of disbelief crept into Sprite’s robotic voice. Despite having the same, robotic voice quality that Nexus had, Gaius could tell that Xanadu’s intelligent artefact was far inferior in expressing humanlike behaviour, compared to his very own Nexus. It was, for some reason, a point of pride for him.
“Remember, the title of the most advanced artificial intelligence belongs to me,” said Nexus. “Get that into your central processors, lil’ guy.”
“Your existence is not recorded,” Sprite mumbled. “Such an aberration.”
Gaius rolled his eyes. “No one made you to know everything. Xanadu, your assistant can be quite a pain at times.”
The teenager patted her shoulder. “Okay, you can stop whining now. You can think up of ways to upgrade yourself once this whole thing is over. A quick update: we’re in Takamagahara now. This is the wall of words you mentioned.”
“Which means that I’m looking at a prophecy, no?” Sprite fell into a deep silence. Gaius glanced at the wall, where a shiny handprint was staring at him, and approached it.
“Nexus,” said the boy,” what do you think? I only see a handprint staring at me. Maybe you can see it differently.”
“I see a block of energy. And a line connecting you to it,” said Nexus.
“A line?”
“Yes,” said Nexus. “I don’t like it. It seems that your arrival here has been predicted long ago. And there’s something you were meant to do here.”
Gaius glanced at his right hand. “Should I?”
“Why not?”
The boy took a deep breath, and pressed his palm onto the wall.