Interval 45: White Stone Black
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[x] "No, we've got to stay radio silence and trust the Writer and her cohorts know what they're doing."
[x] Try to talk to it
The posthuman moves down the trail between the trees, and you cower back. "Don't shoot," you tell Luyu, "but get ready."
"Set your systems to closed net, physical connection." Mirareki says. Wires flicker out to link to your various separate systems and you simply cut the connection to more distant drones.
"What are we going to do?" Mirareki asks, "run or fight?" She uploads a file to the collective network with details of 'White Stone Black'. A posthuman that mostly concerns itself with building strange structures around remote suns. If it were human you'd call it an artisan. It involved itself in the most recent efforts to reconstruct the observatory at an early stage. After the Nephilim eruption, its non-local assets completely cut off whatever was left here.
This, Mirareki thinks, maybe the primary constructor.
"I don't like either of those." You aim your funnels. "I think we talk to it. Everyone get clear of me. I don't want to give away our position."
The team clears out in an arc. For a moment you don't think the posthuman has you, but it pauses suddenly, outside the optimal firing zone for your weapons. Shimmers of heat flicker under its skin. Mirareki IDs this as weapons coming live.
You bounce a com laser off it from one of your funnels: "Don't shoot."
The posthuman pauses.
"Fuck." Luyu mutters over the comm. In the distance, a cloud of blackness is rising, blotting out the night sky around the mountain.
"You are not Nephilim." White Stone Black says. Its voice is blandly feminine, like an announcer on an interstellar liner. "You are not here. You are not recognized." There's a pause. It digs its arms into the ground. You feel little tremors.
"Cognition bounded by perception. The void at the edge of sight. Vision implies blindness. I shall wipe the field clean of that which is not seen. That is my task."
The weapon readings spike. You have just enough time to think a warning to the team and reflect: so it ends here, for this fork. Foolish to think you could bargain with a higher power. Then the ground erupts beneath you and black-white panels burst upward, throwing you backward off your feet. There's the crack of weapons discharge and you see a lance of light fire perfectly at every member of your team and collide perfectly with a shield burst from the earth. You wince, feeling prickling heat, the shield centimetres from your face.
"The voids shall be made full," intones White Stone Black, and fires again at the walls that sprout and spread beneath your feet into a temple of symmetries. You run and dive with the rest of your team to grasp slivers of ever-generous cover as the posthuman lays down fire on its own creation.
"You are not a void. You are not unrecognised. You are a vessel for a recognisable object. The night mist cloaks the familiar in strangeness." White Stone Black says. "You are the source of the entropic-dynamic processing surge detected at– Undefined. Time non-number. Source irrelevant. Recalibrating conceptual map-"
"I'm not." You lie. Humans are actually very good at lying. People have been trying for thousands of years to find a physiological tell for a lie, but if you're properly trained to do it, and you are, there isn't one. "We're just humans. Human special forces."
The cloud of darkness has obscured all the sky, sunk down the woods. It hovers around the pillars and plazas of the work where the few of you cower from the thunderbolts. Your skin is prickling and your immune system starts sparking with the rushed countermeasures devised for the disease that took Luyu's arm. But the ink does nothing more than wait, poised and agonised.
"You are not recognized," says White Stone Black, and it continues firing uselessly into the shifting walls.
"Am I speaking to White Stone Black?"
"No. You are not recognized. Nothing is occuring."
"If I were to speak to White Stone Black and ask it what happened here, what would it say?"
"Simulations cannot be run on invalid data."
The land around you begins to shift. A white obelisk arises, trapped within a great lake of black.
"We would like to go past to the observatory," you state. "If we do not exist, that cannot be a problem."
A drama plays out on the walls, in silhouette. A woman walks to a telescope and peers at the sky, then falls back. The light from the eyepiece follows her, coiling into her face, leaving her twitching on the ground.
"Observatory access is whitelisted," says the machine. "Because you do not exist, cannot appear on the list."
On the walls you see a small human figure standing before the stars. Then in the patterns of the starlight mighty giants appear in the sky, faint and terrible. They bear books, they open them. All of your visual systems flash alerts and censor their contents.
<<It just tried to medusa us!>> snaps Banara.
<<Those are the most old and basic basilisks I can think of,>> says Mirareki.
<<It's not using them to attack,>> says Aletta. <<This is what happened.>>
A woman grows a hand, and another, and another, and another, and so on with half digging their nails into her own flesh and half reaching out and ripping up her world.
"What was recognised before is no longer recognised," intones White Stone Black. "What was present at the disaster is unknown on its return. The one that came from the Gates of Heaven has now not come from the Gates of Heaven. Gates of Heaven. Gates of Heaven."
Another statue forms. This one of you. You're wearing unfamiliar but obviously special forces grade battle armour. You swing the telescope around and invite the woman to look.
<<Stella, what the fuck is this?>> says Banara.
<<I have no idea,>> you lie, still practised. Your previous version was present at the activation. You did this. <<It's losing it.>>
"There is an unidentified statistical anomaly approaching the observatory," says White Stone Black. The black fog from the observatory is growing thicker and thicker. "The anomaly should be eliminated regardless of its nature."
The part of the drone facing you unfolds like a flower, revealing a massive beam cannon. None of the walls its made will stop that gun.
The White Stone Black statue looks at you. "What do we do?" you ask it.
"Run," it mouths.
Spikes of black and white posthuman material rip upwards, slamming into the primary drone from all angles. The beam shoots uselessly into the sky.
"What do we do?" Mirareki asks.
"Run–"
[ ] Towards the observatory around the fight
[ ] Back the way you came.
[x] Try to talk to it
The posthuman moves down the trail between the trees, and you cower back. "Don't shoot," you tell Luyu, "but get ready."
"Set your systems to closed net, physical connection." Mirareki says. Wires flicker out to link to your various separate systems and you simply cut the connection to more distant drones.
"What are we going to do?" Mirareki asks, "run or fight?" She uploads a file to the collective network with details of 'White Stone Black'. A posthuman that mostly concerns itself with building strange structures around remote suns. If it were human you'd call it an artisan. It involved itself in the most recent efforts to reconstruct the observatory at an early stage. After the Nephilim eruption, its non-local assets completely cut off whatever was left here.
This, Mirareki thinks, maybe the primary constructor.
"I don't like either of those." You aim your funnels. "I think we talk to it. Everyone get clear of me. I don't want to give away our position."
The team clears out in an arc. For a moment you don't think the posthuman has you, but it pauses suddenly, outside the optimal firing zone for your weapons. Shimmers of heat flicker under its skin. Mirareki IDs this as weapons coming live.
You bounce a com laser off it from one of your funnels: "Don't shoot."
The posthuman pauses.
"Fuck." Luyu mutters over the comm. In the distance, a cloud of blackness is rising, blotting out the night sky around the mountain.
"You are not Nephilim." White Stone Black says. Its voice is blandly feminine, like an announcer on an interstellar liner. "You are not here. You are not recognized." There's a pause. It digs its arms into the ground. You feel little tremors.
"Cognition bounded by perception. The void at the edge of sight. Vision implies blindness. I shall wipe the field clean of that which is not seen. That is my task."
The weapon readings spike. You have just enough time to think a warning to the team and reflect: so it ends here, for this fork. Foolish to think you could bargain with a higher power. Then the ground erupts beneath you and black-white panels burst upward, throwing you backward off your feet. There's the crack of weapons discharge and you see a lance of light fire perfectly at every member of your team and collide perfectly with a shield burst from the earth. You wince, feeling prickling heat, the shield centimetres from your face.
"The voids shall be made full," intones White Stone Black, and fires again at the walls that sprout and spread beneath your feet into a temple of symmetries. You run and dive with the rest of your team to grasp slivers of ever-generous cover as the posthuman lays down fire on its own creation.
"You are not a void. You are not unrecognised. You are a vessel for a recognisable object. The night mist cloaks the familiar in strangeness." White Stone Black says. "You are the source of the entropic-dynamic processing surge detected at– Undefined. Time non-number. Source irrelevant. Recalibrating conceptual map-"
"I'm not." You lie. Humans are actually very good at lying. People have been trying for thousands of years to find a physiological tell for a lie, but if you're properly trained to do it, and you are, there isn't one. "We're just humans. Human special forces."
The cloud of darkness has obscured all the sky, sunk down the woods. It hovers around the pillars and plazas of the work where the few of you cower from the thunderbolts. Your skin is prickling and your immune system starts sparking with the rushed countermeasures devised for the disease that took Luyu's arm. But the ink does nothing more than wait, poised and agonised.
"You are not recognized," says White Stone Black, and it continues firing uselessly into the shifting walls.
"Am I speaking to White Stone Black?"
"No. You are not recognized. Nothing is occuring."
"If I were to speak to White Stone Black and ask it what happened here, what would it say?"
"Simulations cannot be run on invalid data."
The land around you begins to shift. A white obelisk arises, trapped within a great lake of black.
"We would like to go past to the observatory," you state. "If we do not exist, that cannot be a problem."
A drama plays out on the walls, in silhouette. A woman walks to a telescope and peers at the sky, then falls back. The light from the eyepiece follows her, coiling into her face, leaving her twitching on the ground.
"Observatory access is whitelisted," says the machine. "Because you do not exist, cannot appear on the list."
On the walls you see a small human figure standing before the stars. Then in the patterns of the starlight mighty giants appear in the sky, faint and terrible. They bear books, they open them. All of your visual systems flash alerts and censor their contents.
<<It just tried to medusa us!>> snaps Banara.
<<Those are the most old and basic basilisks I can think of,>> says Mirareki.
<<It's not using them to attack,>> says Aletta. <<This is what happened.>>
A woman grows a hand, and another, and another, and another, and so on with half digging their nails into her own flesh and half reaching out and ripping up her world.
"What was recognised before is no longer recognised," intones White Stone Black. "What was present at the disaster is unknown on its return. The one that came from the Gates of Heaven has now not come from the Gates of Heaven. Gates of Heaven. Gates of Heaven."
Another statue forms. This one of you. You're wearing unfamiliar but obviously special forces grade battle armour. You swing the telescope around and invite the woman to look.
<<Stella, what the fuck is this?>> says Banara.
<<I have no idea,>> you lie, still practised. Your previous version was present at the activation. You did this. <<It's losing it.>>
"There is an unidentified statistical anomaly approaching the observatory," says White Stone Black. The black fog from the observatory is growing thicker and thicker. "The anomaly should be eliminated regardless of its nature."
The part of the drone facing you unfolds like a flower, revealing a massive beam cannon. None of the walls its made will stop that gun.
The White Stone Black statue looks at you. "What do we do?" you ask it.
"Run," it mouths.
Spikes of black and white posthuman material rip upwards, slamming into the primary drone from all angles. The beam shoots uselessly into the sky.
"What do we do?" Mirareki asks.
"Run–"
[ ] Towards the observatory around the fight
[ ] Back the way you came.