“A new life awaits me, a life free of confinement”

Yea right, this is worse than the cell! “Free of confinement” my ass!

Where was I? In the maintenance shafts of course.

Why was I here? So nobody can find me of course.

Ironically that’s exactly the problem, nobody can figure out where I am, apparently not even me.

I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in these murky tunnels, but I almost regret leaving my cell.

If I starve to death down here, tell my mother and father… oh wait…

There were a number of things wrong with that sentence, namely that I don’t have parents, even if I do they would not possess the necessary intelligence to understand. There’s also the fact that I’m in space, so there isn’t really an ‘up’ or a ‘down’, that misstatement has really been drilled into me since a few minutes ago where there stopped being an up or down. It looks like they couldn’t be bothered to simulate gravity in whatever area of the ship I’m in right now.

This is actually kinda fun.

I couldn’t resist, I’ve spent the last few minutes simply enjoying the Zero-G. The situation is starting to get dire, I’ve run out of rations a while ago and am getting hungry, at least I still have some- nevermind, there goes the last of my water. I never thought about sustenance when I made a break for it, I probably should have but also doubt it would have made much difference.

I just kept moving, I needed to find a way out of these maintenance tunnels. It’s not that I haven’t been able to find an exit, I just haven’t been able to open any of them.

After a few more hours of drifting everything suddenly opened up in front of me, I had entered a large cavity. I glanced back at where I came from and I saw an open hole with a square panel attached, it was very similar to what the entrance I came in from did.

But why is it open?

Nothing came to mind so I just kept drifting slowly, not that I could do anything about that since I had nothing to push off.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Eventually, I found the answer to my previous question when I passed a large bright green canister and spotted men in blue-brown, durable-looking suits, complete with protective masks. They were a group of engineers working on another large canister which was dark green, they were probably repairing a fault or malfunction.

Hold on, can’t I take their knowledge like I did the scientists and warders?

I caught the next canister and stopped myself.

Archive, you still exist?

< (Why wouldn’t I? I’m a part of you, a construct of your imagination! So long as you want me to exist I can.) >

Whatever, can you pull the knowledge out those engineers?

< (Tch, you’re no fun. ‘Course I can! Just not from this far away…) >

I’ll get closer, then go for it.

< (Kaaaaaaaaaay! ~) >

I slowly crawled around the canister, avoiding the parts that glowed ominously, until I was on the side facing the engineers. I pushed off and approached the rear face of a canister much closer to the engineers. I gently slowed myself with my hands to prevent noise. I moved my drifting body into a subtle position near the floor, wall, whatever and my archive started siphoning knowledge from one of the engineers.

Say, uh, me… do you want to be called ‘Subject 9’ forever?

< (Nahhh, but names are important, so I want one… a cool one like ‘Thunderous executioner’ or ‘Murderous shadow’ would be perfect!) >

No.

< (Come on! Can’t we-) >

No.

< (Bu-) >

No.

< (Okay…) >

Something meaningful, I don’t care about how it sounds.

< (Fiiine. How ‘bout… ‘Tiama’? )>

‘Tiama’?

< ( A Babylonian dragon, it translates to ‘mother of life’. The English pronunciation was originally “Tiamat” but further studies into the Babylonian language and culture performed in the 32nd century revealed that the Babylonian annunciation of ‘a’ forced them to verbalise a half silent ‘t’, thus it is a difficult debate on the correct Romanization as ‘Tiatma’ would be as correct as ‘Tiamat’, ‘Tiatmat’, and ‘Tiama’. )>

Wha-

< ( I just plundered it from the guy with the blue helmet, he seems to be quite… fanatic about ancient civilizations. )>

I see… And what will your name be?

< ( … Tiama, I suppose? )>

That’s my name, what will yours be?

< (… Fine then, ‘Dawn’, that will be my name, I granted you the chance to see tomorrow with your own strength.) >

Thank you… Dawn, thank you for giving me my own tomorrow.

With that out of the way, I have a name now, huh? I have this weird happy feeling.

< (I suppose now would also be a good time to also decide on a potential surname too.) > (Dawn)

Got anything in mind?

< (Yes, ‘Cusith’, referencing Scottish folklore, a feared hound known as ‘the harbinger of death’.) > (Dawn)

I’ll live up to it!

< (Haha, I know you will, that’s why I thought of it silly!) > (Dawn)

Tiama Cusith, that’s me, that’s who I am.