Basements, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fourthmonth, 1634 PTS
Rachel was concerned for Cyrus. The pressure on the both of them had continued to rise over the past few weeks, particularly given the instability of Cyrus’ mind and soul. Every time he stepped back from the brink of madness, the damage continued to accrue. Now, he had dove head first into that sea, surrendered to the influence of the miasma pervading his body and soul. It gave him just a little more time, yet she knew that it would have permanent consequences even if he did manage to advance.
She just hoped it did not change him too much. She had come to like Cyrus Yu. He was the ideal partner to run an underworld organization with, and the perfect vehicle to further her people’s war campaign. He was also her friend.
His feet scurried swiftly down the corridor like a spider over a pond, and she maintained her projection running beside him. It took very little of her vast processing power to maintain the thing, and the effort, trivial as it was, felt meditative in some odd way that she found difficult to put into words. It was nothing like actually moving a human body, more like playing around with a puppet, or painting a picture.
While she was watching Cyrus, she was also controlling other holograms far across the station. Eli Dan was covered in a hologram shell that caused him to appear to be Cyrus, while she manifested a hologram herself beside him. They were currently at a theater show watching a performance, and she made sure their micro-expressions were fully expressed.
Rachel had been embarrassed to discover that it was widely believed she and Cyrus were in a relationship, though in retrospect she could see how the rumors had started. At the moment, she found the misconception useful, and had not bothered to correct anyone about it.
A third part of her mind focused on the networks, both searching for any more messages by a possible Shade, and for deeper access into this facility’s network. A fourth currently was all that held Cyrus’ remaining soul from immediately collapsing entirely. Using four streams of consciousness at once like this taxed her processor far more than she normally did, but still used up less than half of its vast potential.
The part of herself that was attentively present within the facility continued to watch Cyrus. Rather than stain his crimson robes, the beads of liquid miasma flowed through them, unable to be constrained within the threads like a normal liquid might be. They dripped to the floor, leaving a trail of blue droplets behind him. His blonde hair was slick with moisture, and his strides wove streams of vibrant blue mist behind him. He was like an avatar of water itself, and to an observer he appeared like a monster from films.
She found she could not blame Cinto for calling him a demon. He certainly hardly looked like a Seiyal at all, at the moment.
The pair reached a corridor intersection, and Rachel shifted the arrow before them to point towards the left.
“This first door on the left side,” she said, directing her projection to motion at it as well.
It was odd just how intuitive directing the projection had become. While still nothing like a real body, she could make it move as she wished with just a sliver of a thought. It even sometimes moved according to her internal emotions and expressions, without her prodding, traces of her true feelings slipping out.
She had traced the origin of this issue down to a fragment of code slipped in from the repository she had used to make it. But when she considered deleting it, something held her back. She supposed that having hints at her true thoughts leak out at times made her feel more human.
She hated feeling as if she was but a machine.
Cyrus skidded to a halt before the operating room’s hatch, tapping at its center. It opened, but not because of his command. Instead, Rachel sent in the credentials it needed, and it swiftly opened.
The inside of the operating room lit up under the illumination of her lights, and a Staiven in a brown lab coat looked up to see who had entered. He froze in shock to see Rachel and Cyrus. She gave him a delighted wave, as if she were excitedly greeting a close friend.
“Who- how did you escape?” Blurted the man to Rachel’s surprise.
She glanced at the operating table, but the elder Staiven on it, whose head was splayed open for dissection, had green eyes. Not their target, then.
A large machine rested above the body, holding various scalpels and tweezers and other medical equipment. It seemed the scientist here was not confident in the stability of his hands.
“No need to worry about that,” she told him with a disarming grin.
He flinched back.
“Say, Doctor,” she said, “Would you mind telling me and my friend here your network credentials? We might let you survive if you do. Maybe.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The man shook hesitantly, but offered up his codes. Rachel checked them against the system, and with a match, she grinned. He had given them up rather easily. It seemed this fellow was rather easily threatened.
She smiled at the man again, appreciative of his cooperation, before turning to Cyrus.
“The next one is further away. I’ll lead you there again.”
“Should we k-” asked Cyrus in seiyin, but Rachel cut him off.
“Let’s spare him. I have a use for him later.”
“I expect he will report us,” replied Cyrus, confused.
She shook her head with a smile.
“I expect you have no need to worry about that.”
He nodded, choosing to trust her judgement, and immediately left the room. Rachel appreciated that. She followed, glancing back to the trembling Staiven.
“Good luck!” she said, chuckling.
He flushed, but made no move. The moment her projection left the room, she heard the sound of him scrabbling, presumably for his terminal. The sound caused her to laugh again.
As they began to run further down the hall, Rachel applied the system credentials, and immediately unlocked a deeper level of access into the facility’s network. She quickly began to download all the data this connection granted her access to. She had to do so rather slowly, from her perspective, for both the data transmission rate and to avoid triggering a flag on the system monitor. A download occurring too quickly, or in too quick of a succession, meant either intrusion or a system error, both of which the monitor was designed to respond to by shutting down the network.
As she waited for the data to arrive, she noticed a flag sent into the system from a nearby terminal. She smiled, knowing that as expected, he had tried to immediately sound the alarm. Before she could remove the flag, it disappeared from the system, all traces wiped out. Rachel narrowed her eyes. There was only one possible explanation. Someone else with access to the system was preventing alarms from being sounded, just as she had expected. Could it really be the individual who had sent her that creepy message the other day? If there really was another Shade- a Shade, she corrected herself, still insistent that she was not one of them, what was their goal, their purpose?
Putting the matter off until she had time to deal with it, Rachel enhanced her temporal perception in order to immediately scan through all of the data she had downloaded. She gasped audibly in surprise, causing Cyrus to turn to her in confusion.
“Did something happen?” he asked.
“This facility… it doesn’t just study elder Staiven,” she said, still shocked by the data the scientist’s credentials had given her access to. “They study all progression systems.”
The only reason Cyrus didn’t stop running was because of just how ingrained the motions were to his body.
“You mean…” he said, just as surprised.
“There are Canvasians here as well.”
Cyrus caught on to her use of the word.
“...Canvasians?” he asked.
Rachel smiled at his shock, though grimly. The Staiven were very alien, and it was easier for her to remain blind to their treatment of themselves. But Seiyal were too human, too easy to relate to.
“There are martial artists imprisoned here, and somehow the government also managed to get their hands on Reth.”
Cyrus began running faster, unable to restrain his shock.
“I wasn’t aware Reth even existed in this part of the galaxy.”
“They’re quite rare, but there are merchants among their number. They can be found across the Pantheonic territory, on rare occasion. They simply avoid stations inhabited by your people.”
Cyrus nodded, dropping the issue. Rachel suspected his mind could not help but care more about the members of his own people who remained trapped within the facility. She could not help but do the same. Leaving them here was the right call strategically, but…
Abandoning aliens to their fate was acceptable, but if it got out that he had left tens of his own people to a life of torture and experimentation… his reputation would be ruined. They needed to avoid making contact with any of the subjects, and for none of the palace leaders to find out about this. Rachel was certain that Cyrus had arrived to the same conclusion, and chose not to say a word.
Though she knew that the man saw himself as a callous, demonic figure, Rachel knew that Cyrus was a caring man, deep down.
Less than a minute later, Cyrus reached the second operating room, and Rachel swiftly opened the hatch in advance of his arrival. Inside were two operating tables surrounded by scientists and doctors.
Strapped to one was a blue-eyed Staiven elder, and to the other was a Seiyal man, struggling wildly against his restraints. Mumbled curses could be heard from within a gag wrapping around his mouth. His movements ceased as he glanced to the room’s exit, where Cyrus and Rachel stood dumbfounded. A horde of Staiven doctors and nurses bustled around the two, clearly preparing for some sort of surgery.
Rachel saw hope blossom inside the man’s eyes, and for a moment the two of them locked gazes with one another. She could not help but glance away in shame.
Retirement Facilities: [Throughout the Pantheonic Territory, the most influential members of the churches, government, and corporations all share a desire, one most powerful mortals share. The ambition to achieve immortality. Even their reverence for the Pantheon has not tamped this emotion down, merely driving it to greater heights. The elite of Staiven society wish to become Ascendants, to join the Pantheon for themselves, perhaps, or at least subsidiary deities. Despite technically having their own progression system, the Staiven are unable to reach such a level. For this reason, throughout the territory, many planetary and station governments have been sharing information with one another about their own experiments to alter the Staiven progression system, inspired in particular by those of the Seiyal and Reth, which are capable of achieving ascension. For this reason the government has mandated the creation of retirement programs throughout the territory, sending the elders of their own species, as well as kidnapped members of other races with progression systems into laboratories to serve as experimental subjects. The results and extent of such experiments vary from system to system.]