Her purpose was to protect and sustain knowledge.

Now, however, she wasn’t quite so sure. Lorekeeper watched as the containment doors shut, her visual loci taking in each and every detail. A crowd of one hundred and twenty-seven souls watched as well. Together they witnessed the only passage to the outside world shut tight.

A moment of silence fell over the hushed group. Researchers and their families, mostly. Nobody with the capability to fight what was going on out there. A distant rumble washed through the facility, but her diviners predicted no real damage.

Stepping out in front of the crowd, a tall elven man spoke up. Senior Researcher Olen, her logs told her. “Listen up, everyone. It seems the scenario we’ve been preparing for has happened.” He held up a glowing tablet and scowled at it. “Divine energies are reaching a critical level. We’re going to be in here for a while, it seems.”

Murmurs rang through the group. Not everyone knew what that meant, but they could tell things were serious. Not only that, but they had likely already watched the illusory recordings going through the Network. Lorekeeper copied each as they came.

The last broadcast had stopped thirty minutes ago.

Turning her attention away from the crowd of people, Lorekeeper continued her diagnostics. There were dozens of systems to manage, many of them unfortunately simplistic in nature. The ambient thaumaturgical ocean was already in complete turmoil. Thankfully, the designers of this place had planned ahead.

Most of the arcane machines in this facility were intentionally simplistic and limited in function. The less parameters there were, the less a chance for wild magic to occur.

But she was already discovering errors.

Simplistic constructs were ordered about the facility to begin what few repairs she could. Her creators hadn’t prepared her for this.

Hours passed as the artificial spirit threw herself into the work. A branch of her consciousness watched as the survivors explored their new home. Panic hadn’t begun yet. Many of the officials here had training in management which kept everything in order. Dorms were opened and resting areas established.

By the time the world fell into true chaos, it had become night time for the inhabitants. Lorekeeper kept her eyes away from the grieving families and individuals. Respecting privacy was one of her core designations.

Come morning she discovered that the facility now housed only one hundred and twenty-three.

Death was a strange thing to learn about. Her database had much information about the subject, but seeing it firsthand? It was chilling in a way the ball of runic sigils and crystal could not describe.

Her inhabitants recovered the corpses and held a funeral.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Once the proceedings were over, Lorekeeper summoned an avatar for herself. Her creators had made it almost child-like in nature, something she was still confused about. Then again, she was practically a child herself.

Approaching the Senior Researcher, she spoke telepathically. [Olen. It seems… There may be some issues in habitation. I’ve discovered that the food stores have not been fully restocked. Additionally, the light generators in the farming sector are malfunctioning. Growing crops will be difficult.]

Olen looked down at her, frowning. “More challenges. As if there weren’t enough already.”

[So it seems.] She replied, folding her arms behind her back. [There will be enough rations to keep everyone at moderate caloric intake for seventeen days.] She gestured with a finger and a graph appeared. [If we slaughter the livestock, this will allow you all to survive for thirty more days. This will be long enough for a harvest.]

The man before her took in a sharp intake of breath. A level of manic shock ran through his eyes. “Ah. I see. This is what those cursed Gods wish for us? To starve? Force us to resort to that? What else do they want?!”

[As far as I am aware, the Divine Entities have not breached…]

“Of course you can’t see. You’re just a construct. The world is ending, and for what?” He slumped over, the energy leaving him. “Just do what you want. I give up. I was never even meant to be assigned here.” He shook his head and left, leaving Lorekeeper to ponder those words.

More information to safekeep. She felt an epiphany of sorts. If the world was ending, then she would remain. Perhaps she could convince the others to as well.

Another night passed. More souls vanished from her sight.

The inhabitants of the shelter had begun to grow angry and frustrated. Grief and fear had passed, leaving them full of fury. Fights broke out. She could only watch as men and women beat each other senseless. The false order had begun to fall apart. She hoped this meant the rest could live longer.

One full week came and went.

An attempt to grow crops had begun. Fast-growing and magically enhanced, the seeds should’ve been all they would need. It just needed time. Time was something she was beginning to grow to hate.

Hunger bred greed. Her attempt to ration the food had backfired. More fighting.

Disaster struck as the first month ended. She had watched in anticipation as the first of the growths shot upwards beneath a flickering fake sun. Even here, even in this abyss, life could still flourish. Or so she had hoped. Their water source, a liquid conjurer, had ceased to function.

It was a death knell for the whole bunker.

Lorekeeper could only stare in horror as the inhabitants of her shelter began murdering one another for a drop of liquid. The number of souls kept dropping. She stopped trying to speak to them as they supped on the blood of their own dead comrades. It was too much to bear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the last of them died.

A young woman looked up towards the ceiling, eyes devoid of light. Through cracked, dry lips, she spoke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please…” Then she fell back. The last soul vanished from her senses.

Lorekeeper was then alone.

It was hard to come to terms with that fact. No matter what she had tried, no matter how much she had begged them to stop. All gone. Just her, and a collection of meaningless knowledge.

Time passed. Days, then months, then years.

Corpses rose and began to endlessly march through the halls of her home. Taunting her. She could almost pretend like everything was normal. Like she had a purpose again.

But the undead refused to answer her.

Enough was enough. There was no point watching over these dead halls. Finally she decided to go to sleep. Her knowledge stores spoke of dreams, and of humanoid need. Perhaps she could escape that way. At least for a time.

Queuing her systems, Lorekeeper felt a sense of fear. She might not wake up. Did she even want to awaken? It was a hard question to answer. None of her books, none of her tablets, and none of her databases had prepared her for this. But there wasn’t any other choice.

Lorekeeper issued the command, and quickly was drawn into nothingness.

At least until four individuals entered her domain for the first time in centuries. Lorekeeper found herself awoken, confused, yet pleased to see a person’s face.

[Hello.] She called out, finally awakened from a terrible nightmare.

And thus we've come to the real end of Granite. Poor Elly. She was built to serve a purpose and never succeeded. But now, at least, she can find solace. Next chapter we'll be starting up Arc Two! Enjoy.