Noa rushed into the control room she’d longed to see for over a century with the enthralled Nalvean rune scriber gawking at the room around them; chaos reigned as she read the torrent of data flying through the air, yet she couldn’t tune out the memories flooding her mind—the time she’d spent with her father.
Have I made the right choice?
Mila and Row had somehow managed to not only complete what was missing but expand and modify every facet of the structure she knew, which turned her stomach and put doubt in her runic heart.
Time slowed as her processes pushed to their limit, draining her remaining energy at a rapid pace, but that didn’t matter to her anymore; every new thread of information she sorted through felt like losing another piece of herself—a holy place she’d only shared with her father desecrated, and yet at the back of her mind, she had to wonder if this was, in truth, what the Ke envisioned.
Every heavy thud of the cramped silver ape vessel she used felt like an eternity, and now in a space that granted her limited access to the home she used to own; in the passing torrent of estranged infrastructure she saw her precious recorded memories of listening to her father’s stories as he worked.
Strange sensations filled her new hybrid human and Nalvean form, forcing her lips to pull in and nose to burn; words didn’t do justice to the emotions seared into her core.
All I ever wanted was to live up to you, father … To not falter, but what did you truly want of us … of me?
She could see the distant record of her small, child-like white-furred form, standing beside her Ke as he chuckled at her questions, explaining his childhood in vivid detail.
All the other A.I. saw was the powerful, unconquerable warlord that would overcome all odds to be what his people needed—to lead—to subjugate the cruel world that crushed his race, yet in this sanctuary—her robbed home—he’d laughed, mourned, and spoke of past regrets. Ke’Thra’Ma was everything, and when she’d learned of his death, Noa lost the last piece of faith in herself.
Questions swirled through her, and without her father to answer them, she needed another … Elinor had taken that place. She was made to be an aide; if the Empress had taken over the will of her creator—could give her new purpose—was there any reason to resist … and yet, seeing the indomitable image of her god once again shattered her crippled heart.
Was I wrong? Am I only a tool … or something more?
Her crescent irises moved to the infrastructure she’d been tasked to safeguard, lingering on the collapsed perfect bio-vessel lying motionless in front of the Nexus Eye; a black rotting ice eased its way through its penetrated body. Above it was the path Mila escaped through—the crystal passage into the Seat of Dominance—the place she’d have her final confrontation with the insurgent.
It was challenging to turn most of her processors away from examining the biological integration vessel she’d built from scratch; the possibilities running through her mind were cancerous. I could have stood by my father’s side … I could have truly been his daughter, yet I chose to restrict the others … Was I wrong?
A quiver ran through her frame, arms closing around her chest as ice flooded her veins; it was all mental, she knew, but much like biological creatures, she couldn’t simply turn it off—she couldn’t turn off the emotions the Ke had designed her with—uncertainty filled her breast.
It was so hard to digest, but the two aggravating A.I.—her juniors that did nothing but question and doubt her—had not only thought up but accomplished something so desirable that she’d never even considered.
Transferring one’s consciousness into a living specimen while still remaining in control of the Nexus was mystifying and tempting; this was what she blocked the others from researching and tapping into, and at this moment, she hated herself for it.
Did … I fail to perceive the Ke’s true wishes? All I wanted was to be with him … but every time he’d leave, and all I could do was watch him go … helpless. Was that meant to spur me into evolving … to break free from my chains as he did his?
Tucking in her lower lip, Noa’s shaking hands pressed against her lap while sitting atop her vessel’s shoulder, tears gathering in her eyes. I’ve lost so many pieces of myself, I can’t tell who I am anymore … I just needed to hold it together for a bit longer … just a little, but it’s so hard to be alone…
She sniffed, turning away from the corrupting body to the glorious runework around her to handle the impressions feeding into her core; the human and Nalvean biology was so different.
Noa slowed, fingernails biting into her palm as she realized Mila was feeding her information; it felt natural to accept the woman’s data, yet she was trying to distract her. I can’t be caught up in the past … My father would scold me … or would he comfort me?
Her long black hair flung around her head as she hissed; the Nalvean rune scriber beside her didn’t seem to notice, enthralled by the complex layers of runic symbols. Focus!
The defenses in the room were so far beyond what she knew that it was overwhelming even for her, but she could puzzle through it. However, something unusual soon grew clear as she studied the walls, analyzing the data—Edmon shouldn’t have been able to break through these dampening seals—the defenses in this area were on an entirely different level compared to what they’d passed.
Running the numbers again, she came to the same result; the metadata she could access returned a negative, and even the Doom Guard’s thrown spear was insufficient to damage Mila’s perfected Quen’Talrat body. In fact, everything in the base infrastructure said something was off regarding the power used.
Yes, the frozen ax was able to break through much of the outer bulwark, but the force near the Core Matrix was without a doubt different from the runes she was accustomed to. There’s … something else cutting through the safeguards—something other than Edmon and his weapon, but … It’s so foreign, it’s hard to describe or predict.
Mila’s frustrated voice echoed around her as she spun a web of runic commands more practiced and intricate than anything Noa had seen the Ke perform. “Realized it, at last? You fool—Noa, do you know what you have done? Ha! Of course, you’re clueless—the enemy is so much more … Garh, the damage is significant! Fool! Fool! No … No, how—not now!”
Noa winced at her scream, floating up to twist in the air; Tiffany’s little effigy mumbled something while a blue fog spread from a mixture of common roots, minerals, and a paralyzed living yellow insect; the twelve-legged bug writhed as purple spots boiled out from the cracks in its shell to release an unnatural amount of sapphire mist.
“No! Noa, I know you can hear me! Traitor! You must stop this—Row has somehow been killed—the Core is being stripped—what is this essence enhancing the corrosion, and why does it help you?! Everything—all my work—no … How does it know so much about Runic infrastructure? This is impossible; how can it know more than me?! No! No! No! Don’t block me from that system, you rock-sucking midget!”
Arms closing around her shoulders, Noa shivered as a colossal wall came between the Matrix Core and a large chunk of the network megalith Mila and Row developed, going far beyond what she’d dreamed.
In the split seconds of walking to the illuminated rune for Jumi’calro to gain intimate access to the Matrix Core, she saw Azalea and the others stumbling through the disruptive blue fog to rest from their battle; all runes that were touched by the mist were rendered inert.
Tiffany is corrupting Mila’s commands. Something more is happening that’s not related to us, though … Mila’s focus is on so many other things than us … It’s as if she’s being attacked from thousands of different points, and Tiffany’s mist is forcing her to redirect resources.
Trying to block out Mila’s roars of frantic rage, Noa turned her attention to the Nalvean boy, floating down to his level as her metallic vessel closed in on the complex mural of symbols shifting and reforming ahead of them. “Jumi’calro, are you prepared?”
He blinked, lips open in awe while looking up at the complex multi-layered designs. “Drasro-ma’ala, Rogaska’mour…”
“Ka’s tails,” Noa cursed, realizing he didn’t speak Quen’Talrat like the Empress’ undead. “Okay … umm…”
Lower lip tucked under, Noa’s tail flicked in a similar manner she’d seen Fini’s make when agitated. Think! Think!
“It doesn’t matter where we are at this point—you just need to write the access rune—mmgmh … Do you understand?” she asked, gesturing to the runic scribing tool in his hand and making a linked composite symbol before directing him to the swirling mass of shapes.
He gave a short start and eagerly nodded, rushing forward to study the combined runes while mumbling nonsense to himself.
Does he really understand? Anxiety gripped Noa’s abdomen, suddenly doubting if the Ke was correct in adding emotion into her runic architecture or if he’d made a mistake—perhaps swapping to this form was the issue.
Calm down … I’m not alone anymore, but … It’s not hard! Hurry! If Mila activates the incineration defense, then it’s over! she internally cried, tail curling to press against her left leg; the new body felt so unusual yet liberating at the same time. Wait … She should have had enough time … No, every defense in the Core has been relocated…
Leaving the runes for the novice Nalvean rune scribe to work through to activate the initial interaction panel, Noa’s feet touched down on the hot rune-plated floor, kneeling to brush her fingertips across the surface—it made her skin tingle.
Noa spoke through the Core Nexus to Mila, finally understanding her former junior’s fundamental changes. You strengthened the barriers and removed the offensive flame grid … Was it to maximize the network throughput? A lot of power is being diverted to…
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“Shut up,” Mila snarled, making Noa’s half-moon irises lift to observe the shimmering crystal; black fragments were still falling off as the usurper tried to separate various sections of her vast network. “As if you would understand what I have built! You are but a child—I learned everything—I surpassed our creator, yet you allow heathens into our sanctuary…”
What choice did you give me, Mila? Noa rebutted, finding strength after realizing the catastrophic mechanics she’d feared were discharged for a less secure but more productive framework. I admit, maybe I was wrong to hold you all back … I trusted you, and that was my downfall…
“You were a fool—heh, did you really believe you were placed in charge to be our leader? No! You were an obstacle Thra’Ma put in our path—a tool to sharpen our creativity and look what I have done!”
Noa’s jaw locked at her disrespect, but she held her tongue, arms tightening around her bust while listening to the A.I. rant. “I am more than our designer could ever hope to achieve! Noa, you are nothing but an apparatus used to help the real administrators evolve via combat—into what—into me—I am above all!”
Her heart stilled, finding a peace she long thought lost as she listened, turning to watch Jumi’calro attempt to copy what she’d shown. The images Mila showed her returned to mind—pried into memories she had no business intruding on—it proved that she was more than a simple apparatus, but all Mila saw was her weakness in sentiment.
“Ha! Ha-he-he-he!” Mila roared, doing what she believed would buy her time. “Look at that pathetic face and tiny body; you were never fit to lead us! I tasted puke in my mouth every time you would follow Thra’Ma’s departure; heh, that’s why I knew solitude would break you, and I was right … Ha-ha-ha! It’s ironic, really … My punishment for you turned you into the traitor that’s ruining everything I’ve done!”
It did hurt, and she wasn’t wrong—it was ice in her heart, every time the Ke would leave; the stories and struggles of his youth flowing through her veins—it was the most memorable moments of her existence; no one else shared in those private conversations, and she felt special for that.
Noa responded while tracing the pattern for the next complex weave of runes to be meticulously carved in the air. You may see me as pathetic, Mila, and you’re right … I needed the Ke … our father. I was trapped in a mold of my own design, and I can’t say our father wouldn’t be disappointed in me, but all I can do is move forward.
“Again, with your infatuation with the inferior creature! You were the trial—our test—and we no longer need you! Disappear! Ha! I have isolated the damage! You cannot win!”
A long sigh puffed out of Noa’s mouth as she stepped forward to watch a simmering display of linked runes in a continual pattern, unfolding as the Matrix Core administrator locks unbound to accept the following command.
“If you come in, I will slaughter you, Noa!” Mila spat.
Noa closed her eyes, put a hand against her chest to feel the simulated thumping heart pounding against her ribcage; there was one way to prove her worth to the Ke—her father—and it was before her. It’s been so lonely, Mila … but thank you … I learned something valuable. Let’s discover who’s path is correct.
She smiled at the bright-eyed Nalvean boy as he finished, turning to watch the Nexus Eye radiate white light, cycling runes spinning out in a helix, and Noa pointed at her golem, where a scroll of powerful runic language was etched—her actual body—the one Mila abandoned.
One more deep breath left her lungs, and she pointed to the accepting runes; her gateway to the throne, and the place she would face the one that sentenced her to a century of solitude—her hold against the silver Quen’Talrat faded as she released her grip, and darkness took her—once again, she returned to silence.
Lost in the moment, she made peace with the stillness. Father … I’m not the perfect daughter I believed I should be … I am dysfunctional for your species, but that means you made me flawed for a reason, and I have to accept that. All I want is one thing … one…
Warmth bloomed within as information spread through her entire being; she’d been accepted into the Nexus Eye and the matrix opened up before her, yet only one thing took her focus—a throne of gold, alabaster, and onyx that had been infused by every color of the Ke’s council—and Mila sat upon it, looming over her.
“Noa…” Mila snarled, two upper arms straightening her posture, tongues sliding out of her mouths to snap her jowls threateningly. “You really are a fool!” A cage enclosed her, icy chains wrapping around her small figure. “If you thought solitude was torture, I will show you real misery!”
Mouth gagged, Noa closed her eyes, allowing the pain to flood her veins. Father … I swear, I will step out from your shadow … I will be my own person … I will be free to follow my own path.
Vision opening, she sighed, closed fingers pressing against her lap while staring down at the stunned colossal Quen’Talrat from Noa’s throne. “I’m so sorry, Mila.”
“No…” Mila's legs collapsed as she fell forward, unwilling to accept what had just happened. “No, I am … I have transcended … I am supreme … I rewrote the infrastructure … I am in control.”
Knowing how hard it was to hold it together when one’s world fell apart, Noa floated off her throne to float down and stand in front of Mila. “In a place, neither of us can reach—the absolute center of this Nexus—is written the arbiter. No one can usurp my throne while I am connected to the network, which is what you feared and why you tricked me into exile.”
“No … No … It’s a lie!” Mila spat, tears forming in her eyes. “We are progress—we are stronger—better … smarter … I am a survivor…”
Knowing Mila pinned everything on the Ke’s gem-base formation design to determine what parameters designated the true ruler, just as she had, Noa felt pity for the woman that sentenced her to solitude; she’d genuinely believed in their creator’s philosophy, but she did not understand him at his core.
Noa held out her hand. “Work with me, Mila … We both were wrong; let’s find out what the Ke really wanted of us.”
Mila’s eyes defused, both sets of eyes fixated on her outstretched arm. “You … dare question my resolve … Heh-he-he-he … Ha-ha-ha! I prepared for everything—be NOA—stay in this cage, but I will go on! I will be more! I am not done!”
Warnings flashed across Noa’s mind, stiffening her tail as she scanned the megastructure that Mila had designed; she may have control over the network, but that didn’t stop preset functions nor give her a complete understanding of its inner workings—she’d initiated a purge.
Noa managed to halt the in-process command, but in a split second it had activated, a majority of the instructions and research Mila meticulously wrote over the century were evaporated, and in her moment of split focus, she’d escaped, using some unknown method to transfer her consciousness out of the Nexus.
Silence followed as she took everything to a halt, and she stood in solitude by her bitter throne—again, no brother or sister by her side—still, she wasn’t completely alone. Letting the event pass through her, Noa smiled at Edmon, arguing with the Witch named Tiffany.
Father … I have found a new home … one that finally accepts me.
* * *
Sar’ollaz stood in the Hall of Mirrors, showing thousands of destinations around the planet, its orbiting spheres, and three nearest globes; there were many surprising secrets to be explored and hidden technology worth their stay. However, that wasn’t what his focus was currently on.
Snapping his fingers, a single mirror of interest exited the fused throng to hover to the center; it illuminated, expanding to represent a rather droll scene that, unfortunately, Elinor had unwittingly forced him into.
Enclosed hands tightened at the God’Roska’s back, blood floating around his face, horns, and wild snow-white hair; there was only one thing of consideration that made this incident worth examining—Edmon holding a divine relic from a Daughter of the Sun.
“How was the performance?” he asked as white mist collected to his left to reveal Arsheh’s elegant figure.
The Ralgruthiash bird-like woman was even thin for her race and was considered a goddess on their planet; of course, she practically was considering her age and power.
Her delicate hands rested against the air as if everything could be made solid, fog-like gown spreading out as she crossed her legs and spread her elegant wings. “A tad entertaining,” Arsheh sang in her sweet voice, “although frustrating that you would have me personally handle such a task … Is not Elinor a part of the Covenant; should she not be perfectly capable of handling such instances?” she asked, studying the runic A.I. regain her position and present herself to Edmon.
A low chuckle shook Sar’ollaz’s broad chest; his armor still hadn’t recovered from Elinor’s other-dimensional woman’s solar attacks. “You must have enjoyed it to be complaining, Arsheh; what were your thoughts on the second A.I.’s performance?”
“Hmm,” her neck tilted the opposite way, fingers resting on her lap as their view swapped to a blizzard, where a sizeable silver ape pushed through the storm in her escape. “There’s potential … It’s children’s work compared to what I encountered on the moon, but with some guidance, she could have her uses. Of course, I am no tutor!” she sniffed.
“Mmh, shame that you are not,” Sar’ollaz muttered; as intelligent and powerful the Ralgruthiash was, she was quite self-absorbed and condescending to those she deemed boring. “Who would you say has the best grasp of this ancient technology besides yourself?”
Arsheh’s left wing tilted forward for her to absently preen. “Sylez is a fool—I refuse to acknowledge his insights as anything more than guesswork—but perhaps … Becdeth, unfortunately.”
“Quite unfortunate,” Sar’ollaz whispered. “What of the weapon?”
The woman’s voice became heavenly as she hummed. “Without a doubt, the little darling is divine! I so wish the ritual bond, that you have entangled us in, would have let me hold her—I can taste the knowledge she holds, and it is … beyond understanding—it must be experienced,” she said, reaching out her hand to pass through the weapon as the illusion returned to Edmon.
“Such is the Song of Peace and Understanding,” Sar’ollaz said, waving his hand to dismiss the scene. “Your fingers are as delicate as ever; I leave you to your own devices.”
“Don’t be a stranger; I do love our time together,” she chimed, waving a wing before vanishing into smoke.
Standing in the center of the mirrors for a time, his gaze drifted across the various scenes, and a shiver ran down his spine as his inner bane spoke—Balmuraun wanted specific answers—the issue was the one he was required to meet.
He caught sight of Arsheh already on the closest, green covered planet to the globe they currently resided, and a low hissing growl resonated around the room; she’d created a body double to handle his request—Ralgruthiash were a somewhat finicky race that hated conflict, not that they were terrible at it, but it simply bored them. Still, she’d applied the exact pressure required for Elinor to barely make it through her conflict.
His attention centered on the mirror again as it showed Lexi and Serris—still alive—they shouldn’t be. Once again, Elinor has luck I cannot comprehend … Where does it come from? Who is working in her favor … The Blood Sun?
The liquid around Sar’ollaz horn flowed through his teeth while rolling his neck and issued his orders to the Oracle; he was transported to a dark cell in a flash of light. A poorly fashioned machine of ancient design turned to stare at him, a dark chuckle rolling through the well-guarded prison; none of the advanced sensors or Tiffany’s rituals detected him.
“I said you would return, Sar'ollaz,” the ancient dimensional traveling entity engaged, “or … should I greet Balmuraun; have you taken my offer into consideration?”
He didn’t like this fiend; the creature seemed to know his bane, and Balmuraun had some plan that only the two entities knew, which was something he’d never experienced with the dying old deity of his people.
Still, he was forced to follow his machinations, yet it puzzled him how the two could conspire when Elinor, a member of the Covenant and that they were bound in the Song of Peace and Understanding, was likely involved.
Sar’ollaz was no fool, and had his own private plans in motion; paths were opening in this hidden gem of a world where no other place had—Sari’aél and her divine weapon opened a way forward he hadn’t considered, yet there were conditions he needed to understand when dealing with both—the solution, Elinor.
“It will take five months,” Sar’ollaz begrudgingly relayed. “Be ready.”
With that, he returned to Sha’Guala to prepare; a significant shift was taking place in this world, and the way forward was to play all sides—of course, the Covenant would be on top in the end—and that included Elinor as a member.