Randidly frowned at her words and Neveah continued to speak. Somehow, it seemed this judgment had been building in Neveah for quite some time, and now it finally had occasion to drain out of her. "Not that it's a bad thing. You've done so much good for the people and places you've decided to protect. But... I'm just worried about you. We are one being, Soulbound, yes? I didn't realize it at first, but I have been becoming more and more fascinated with my own budding humanity... perhaps at the same time that yours was withering below the weight of necessity. Even... please, I don't mean to criticize, but even your relationship with Vualla. You care for each other, yes, but is it nearing something like love? Or do you two simply share complimentary obsessions?

“If she decided to give up her vendetta against the Nexus, would you be okay with it?”

Now Randidly was truly stunned, simply staring at Neveah. She looked back at him, her eyes a dark green and filled with genuine warmth and empathy. His heartbeat quickened, even as the Nether flowing through his veins grew increasingly dense. His Nether Core responded strongly to Neveah's words, but Randidly just felt... bewildered.

Significance slowed in through the windows and doors, seeped up through the floorboards, and steadily wormed its way through the vents. So much was spinning in the air, threatening to warp Randidly’s tail-drawn Nether Ritual with its force.

I’m more… force than person…? But about Vualla...

"I..." Randidly licked his lips. He was suddenly very aware of the multiple ways through recent memory that he had shed his human body and evolved into something... else. But then again, that wasn't what Neveah was talking about; when he faced her accusation directly, he couldn’t claim it was only a recent development.

Even from the beginning of his time in the Nexus, Randidly never quite desired the human comforts that tugged at the hearts of others. All his riches from creating Kharon he didn't much consider; it was only the spirit of Kharon, the sword and shield that would allow them to prosper in the future, that earned his time and meticulous attention. Perhaps some part of him was still that engineering student that had been swept up into the Dungeon and accidentally planted berries in the Safe Zone. He just loved to build something worthwhile.

Neveah spoke again. "The things you want to accomplish are enormous. I just want to point out... you might be slowly becoming more the force to effect this desired change than the person who hopes for it. It's not necessarily a bad thing... because the magnitude of what you want cannot be grasped with normal means. Just be aware. And be careful, alright? I would be quite sad if my little brother went so far as to sacrifice himself entirely to protect others."

“Someone has to do this, Neveah,” Randidly responded instantly.

Neveah favored him with a sad smile. “But there’s no reason it must be you, right?”

Randidly’s expression shifted again, between a hundred different lightning-fast emotions. The bubbling anger that Neveah had brought up his relationship with Vualla so negatively. A solemn contemplation over whether she was right. A shiver of very real fear that he was moving further and further away from who he had been before the System had arrived.

But the strongest emotion was... acceptance. Or rather, it was a firm belief that Neveah was wrong; perhaps before it didn’t necessarily need to be him, but with his strange interactions with the being at the base of the shaft, his sharpening images, and his steadily strengthening Nether Core…

Randidly's gaze firmed. If I really do need to become more force than man... if the legend of the Ghosthound is a stronger weapon to strike at the Nexus than Randidly the man... so be it. Whatever it takes.

Absently, Randidly was stunned that the surrounding patrons hadn’t noticed something was amiss with the Nether in the room. They continued about their meals, completely oblivious to the maelstrom of significance that hurtled through them. All that potent meaning began flowing into Randidly’s body, settling into his being.

Neveah sat across from him and probably understood what the changes in his expression meant, and why the Nether was suddenly so agitated, but she said nothing. Likely she knew that she had already said her piece; further arguments wouldn’t help. A few seconds later, Todd happily returned to the table and plopped down in his seat.

Neveah mechanically turned her head and offered a brittle smile at the boy. “So, what’s for dessert?”

Several fruit tarts and creme brulees later, the trio left the restaurant. As they took the elevator down from the top floor of the building and walked out onto the street, Todd paused and pointed upward. "What the hell are those shitty Scrawls...?"

Randidly glanced upward. The sky was filled with bits floating, meandering, puttering debris. Twigs and scrap metal, discarded garbage can lids and empty egg cartons, a hundred small objects floated awkwardly around above street level, earning looks of disapproval from the workers on the streets who likely assumed it was some prank from the kids of Kharon Academy.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

But of course, it wasn't a prank. It was one collective and very genuine attempt to improve by the moss spirits of Kharon.

Neveah quirked an eyebrow up at him and Randidly could only shrug helplessly. "Maybe... someone is doing a practice for the under-Auction?"

*****

BA-Alpha whirred, sitting in its resting place and experiencing the satisfying feeling of its thousands of minuscule gears locking their teeth onto one another without the slightest room for error. It was a perfect creation, in constant motion. "Report."

BA-Beta bowed, wearing the humanoid form assigned to most of the non-specialized BAs. "A bit of discarded napkin was flagged from the trash of Kharon's Alpha. Per protocol for such a unique item, it passed through the ranks to my daily work allotment. It was flagged for the following reasons: persistent energy signature, extremely sophisticated artistry, and constant low-grade radiance. It appears to be a particular sort of Engraving, aimed at altering the processing apparati of the BA units."

Gears turning, BA-Alpha considered this. "Yet it was discarded, brought to us by happenstance. Even for humans, this is certainly... an erratic behavior. Not like the human-unit Alpha at all. She is a human-unit that rarely takes such unproductive actions."

"Would you like to hear our theories on the subject of the placement of the napkin or the suspected function of the Engraving first?" BA-Beta asked.

BA-Alpha continued to spin. Its body was contained within a giant cube, but the progenitor of the first automatons had insisted to fill the interior of the cube with absolutely meaningless gears that would steadily turn in an elaborate puzzle with no actual productive purpose. It was a rather typical and inexplicable human-unit behavior. Their creator had believed that exposure to such clinical perfection as that existed within its form would induce further perfection in BA-Alpha’s behavior. After several seconds of clacking, BA-Alpha rumbled. “The Engraving first.”

BA-Beta placed the small napkin, which still glowed with the mysterious Engraving’s ambient power, on the display dais in front of BA-Alpha’s strongest sensors. “This Engraving, when applied to any BA unit, will afflict them with human traits reminiscent of metal. I am inadequate to ascertain how expansive an effect the Engraving could generate… but it appears that the resulting human-unit personality will have traits similar to the BA’s.”

“Is that speculation?” BA-Alpha’s gears began to move more quickly.

“Not entirely. I consulted with a skilled human unit Engraver, who told me that this was the greatest single Engraving she had ever seen.” BA-Beta responded. “It is worth noting that even she, a human-unit, found that it was extremely strange that this extremely sophisticated Engraving was done upon a napkin. It is as though such a profound Engraving was created simply on a whim, and this was the closest recording surface.”

BA-Alpha considered that. Sometimes, it was difficult to distinguish the societally determined lines where some deviations were considered acceptable amongst the humans, yet others were not. But BA-Alpha at least understood this aspect of humanity: their source code was entirely unspoken and implied, passed from parent to child through repeated and unexplained demonstration. It was no wonder that so many inconsistencies cropped up.

“And you earlier mentioned a conjecture?”

BA-Beta stood as straight as its humanoid form would allow. “Amongst the human-units, there is talk that their greatest hero Randidly Ghosthound walks again through Kharon’s streets. He is the reason for the disturbance amongst the moss spirits. As the creator of the city itself, it is deemed likely that he is the source of this Engraving. He also is a known associate of the human-unit Alpha of Kharon. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that they were in discussions regarding the BA’s presence in Kharon. However, perhaps this Engraving was deemed a failed product and left in the waste receptacle.”

“I find the final conjecture less than compelling,” BA-Alpha responded as its gears continued to mince easily together. “However, we should investigate. Contact the Kharon’s Alpha. Ascertain whether we may experiment with this Engraving. If we could figure out a method to incorporate some of the advantages of the human units’ natural experiments into our own operating procedures, we might be able to self-improve.”

Even as BA-Alpha said these words, the tenor of its mechanical grinding changed. BA-Beta stood completely still and its vaguely humanoid face didn’t shift, but BA-Alpha could feel that BA-Beta felt the same desire that it did. The humans had created them and the All-Speaker had blessed them with the Engraving that let them understand, but they were ultimately a failed creation. Behind the framework of each work-day cycle for a BA were countless hours of human-units laying out the details.

The BA’s had plenty of willingness to work and drive to assist human units, but they had no real creativity or experience. They were unable to imagine how things could be different than the orders given to them.

They could not assist Kharon without very specific instructions from Kharon detailing how to do so. But perhaps that could change.

“Our creator always envisioned the BA’s as the crowning jewel of Kharon’s industry,” BA-Alpha said slowly to BA-Beta. “Perhaps that dream will soon come to fruition. Perhaps this rune of the Ghosthound will finally give us the chance that we have been waiting for.”

Compared to the other BAs, these two units were special. Both BA-Alpha and BA-Beta were crafted by hand by their original maker. They were also equipped with several higher-order Engravings from the All-Speaker, which gave them greater insight into the behavior of humans. Which was why it was the two of them, standing in that room, solemnly looking down at that napkin scrap between them.

“I have a suggestion,” BA-Beta announced, interrupting their regards.

“Yes?”

“While the news is traveling to the human-unit Alpha, we may as well begin to make preparations. There are many BA’s who have made small infractions due to deficiencies of their physical construction. Their loss will not be felt; we can remove a few and prepare to apply the Engraving to their bodies. Or, if the human-unit Alpha responds in the negative, they can simply be brought in for reshaping.”

BA-Alpha buzzed as it considered this. Despite the pointlessness of its internal construction, it did thank their maker for choosing this form; unlike a pure cube, these thousands of gears that constituted its body had so much additional surface area for Engraving. Those delicate runes glowed with a much dimmer light than that small napkin in front of it. “Make the arrangements.”