Looks like things will probably be changing... from now on, especially as one imagines the tower interior will be less friendly.
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Ar Tonelico : From Discord to Harmony
- Thread starter Sapphire
- Start date
And there's the lesson on the brutal, yet detailed, history of the world.
On the plus side, the destruction of the Server means that your family doesn't need to deal with the super short lifespans of 3rd Generation Reyvateils.
You forgot the space after that comma.
Since when has any Tower's interior been friendly?
It's hard to not feel bad for Sylphira after all the crap she's been going through thus far, but it's good that at least she has managed to make some real friends in spite of it.
That said, I just have a couple things to say here: a question about canon I still can't wrap my head around, and a minor nitpick.
Let's go first with the nitpick: "tonelico" is always written in lowercase, and having the second word of the title be in lowercase has been applied to all games in EXA_PICO so far, including Ciel nosurge and Ar nosurge.
As for the canon thing, it's this: what reason would the Other (which I guess are Antibodies) have to attack Ascydria Tower? After all, Ar Ciel's Wills ordered them to leave the First and Second Towers alone, and only attacked the Third Tower due to Moocheriel draining the precious little energy that was keeping the planet from breaking apart. Similarly, the Antibodies can't speak Hymmnos no matter what they might try: they only communicate with each other through songs in Ar Ciela (or Carmena Foreluna for the humans who happen to listen to their communications) as shown in Cocona's Hymmnos Musical with the "jUmbAdjA" song, and I can't fathom that a Hymmnos-speaking being would be able to control them.
That said, I just have a couple things to say here: a question about canon I still can't wrap my head around, and a minor nitpick.
Let's go first with the nitpick: "tonelico" is always written in lowercase, and having the second word of the title be in lowercase has been applied to all games in EXA_PICO so far, including Ciel nosurge and Ar nosurge.
As for the canon thing, it's this: what reason would the Other (which I guess are Antibodies) have to attack Ascydria Tower? After all, Ar Ciel's Wills ordered them to leave the First and Second Towers alone, and only attacked the Third Tower due to Moocheriel draining the precious little energy that was keeping the planet from breaking apart. Similarly, the Antibodies can't speak Hymmnos no matter what they might try: they only communicate with each other through songs in Ar Ciela (or Carmena Foreluna for the humans who happen to listen to their communications) as shown in Cocona's Hymmnos Musical with the "jUmbAdjA" song, and I can't fathom that a Hymmnos-speaking being would be able to control them.
This is the reason why my best guess as to that mysterious being's identity was a Will.
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
Thank you! Punctuation error will be fixed momentarily.
Also... don't be too hasty to write off the 3rd Gens. Mentioning that the Perric family line has Reyvateil blood in it was a decision I made specifically for future content. That little tidbit will come back.
Aw well... I'm a bit of a stickler for proper capitals and whatnot, so I guess that's just a habit dying hard.
The Other are Antibodies, yes. I call them Other here specifically because there has been no communication between Harvestasha and Asciydria. They essentially have two different names for the same thing, which will of course be rectified when they eventually make contact with each other. And don't worry! They have a reason to be there. I briefly mentioned Daylight's End in this chapter, but I specifically left out why the Other invaded in the first place, and why they continue to in the present day. There is a motive there; I just have yet to reveal it.
One could hope I guess?
Chapter 7
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
Chapter 7 - Echoes
We pushed deeper into Asciydria, deeper than I'd ever been. Past the makeshift med bay where I'd awoken, where the hallway began to crumble and deteriorate.
The decay grew more and more prevalent the further we progressed. Overhead lighting fixtures flickered and faded, some every so often flaring up to release a shower of sparks. Pockmarked walls that were covered in splotches of rust broke open, revealing thousands of complex lines of cables and piping that must have run throughout the spire. Many of the pipes had burst, tearing free from their mounts and now strewn across the corridor. Coupled with the fact that the high ceiling had even collapsed in places, it made progressing extremely difficult—for me, at least. Sentinel's pair of machines effortlessly plowed through any and all obstacles, and I found myself falling in line with them.
The air grew heavy and stale, and my nostrils contracted involuntarily. The darkness drew closer and closer like a hungry predator, forcing me to fish a flashlight out of my pack. The weak beam barely made a dent in the oppressive shadows. Every so often I'd jump in fear as eerie echoes emerged from the void—metallic screeches, the bubbling of liquid, the dripping of a leaky water pipe… and a distant and repeated thump sound that made my skin crawl.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"I—I wanna go home…" I sniffed, wiping tears from my eyes.
"…You can't. You know that."
For a time we traveled like that, no words exchanged between us. The AI's holographic form simply stared straight ahead, hard lines etched into her face. I coughed awkwardly, shivering in the musty air. It seemed to grow colder with each footstep. My boots left clear footprints in the thick layer of dust that had settled across every surface.
I estimated that we'd walked a couple kilometers when Sentinel's tower guardians came to a sudden halt. "We're here…" the AI breathed, face lighting up.
"We… what…?" I peered into the darkness, brushing the bangs from my eyes.
The architecture changed up ahead. The corridor came to an abrupt end, opening up into a gigantic circular room. The circumference of the chamber hosted identical corridors like the one we'd just left, each one branching off into the pervasive darkness. Spaced between the hallways lay innumerable double doors that looked like they hadn't been opened in centuries. Casting my gaze up, I spotted multiple levels higher up. They were supported by pillars that ran all the way around the circular room; though the stairs seemed to have collapsed, cutting off access. The vaulted ceiling was hidden in the shadows.
The center of the gallery was adored by an enormous redwood tree on an island in a shallow pool of water. The centerpiece must have been beautiful and vibrant when the tower was in its prime. Now, it was simply a dessicated tree trunk in an empty basin, surrounded by heaps of fallen dead branches. Chairs and yellowed sheets of paper were strewn everywhere, as if the place had been abandoned in a hurry.
"What is this place?" I questioned with awe, hearing my voice echo into the void. I panned my flashlight beam around, getting a gauge of the gargantuan scale of the room. The gallery was massive enough to contain the entirety of Serafi's house—with plenty of room to spare. It was then that I noticed the control panels next to each set of double doors. A few of them still hosted illuminated buttons that flickered weakly.
The AGRA-NX stomped past, powerful floodlights mounted on its shoulders coming to life with a heavy clunk. The hulking machine slowly approached one of the portals recessed into the curved wall. One of many, its doors were dented and bent open slightly in the middle. A flickering light fixture lay above it, beckoning us. Yet through the gap in the doors, only darkness awaited.
"This is the C-44 lift hub," the AI replied, staring at the set of doors with consternation. "It's the main junction on this level of the silvaplate, right at the center where all the passages on this floor join up. Here, we have access to the main shaft."
"Main shaft…" I whispered, running my fingers along a wall. A slight frown crossed my face; a new and unfamiliar sensation brushed against the far reaches of my mind.
"The main shaft is, fittingly, a cluster of elevator shafts that run all the way through Asciydria," Sentinel continued. Her tower guardian snorted loudly, suddenly impacting the doors with a deafening crack that made me flinch. Its bladed shoulders swayed from side to side while it effortlessly ripped the steel plating to shreds. "It runs from the tower anchor—down below the Sea of Death—all the way up to the base of the power regulator module in Section A. The power regulator module, in turn, lies directly beneath the Apex—our goal."
"Mmh…" My eyes narrowed as I brought my focus to bear on the foreign sensation, drawing it closer to the nexus of my consciousness.
No way…
A sudden flash of comprehension. With a gasp, I opened my eyes wide. Stunned by my revelation, I planted my hands against the pitted surface for support.
I could feel power lines buried in the walls. It wasn't that I could see them with the naked eye; I just somehow knew innately that they were there, to the point where it felt like I could reach out, grab hold of a particular filament, and know exactly how much energy it held and where said energy was being diverted to. When closing my eyes, I could clearly picture them in my mind—tens of thousands of shining, glittering threads. The cables hummed melodically, funneling a steady stream of symphonic power upwards.
It was undeniable. My connection to the tower… really is strengthening, huh?
"Hey!" Sentinel cried, yanking me out of my trance. I spun around, realizing that the double doors that had once blocked the elevator shaft no longer existed. Her tower guardian had done its job well, reducing the heavy steel doors to a twisted mess of scrap metal on the floor. "Administrator, you coming or what? We've gotta start heading up!"
"Sorry…" I hurried over, giving a sidelong glance down the passage we had come from. I thought about what was at the far end of that corridor, my heart aching with longing.
Mitri…
Sentinel reached out with a tiny shimmering hand, pressing a glowing button that featured prominently on the control panel next to the gaping doorway. A distant squeal of overstressed metal rippled down the shaft, followed by a shower of dust and sparks that cascaded past the opening.
"Wait, an eleva—"
BANG!
I leapt into the air, terrified by the unexpected sound. Something came into view within the shaft—an elevator, descending on a pillar of sparks with a grating metallic screech. It impacted hard, releasing a deafening boom that echoed throughout the vault-like chamber. It sounded uncannily like a gunshot.
When the dust settled, I found myself peering into a decrepit freight elevator. The walls had almost rotted away under the encroaching rust, and the grooved floor was pitted and filled with dents. To my eyes, it seemed like it would never lift anything again. Yet I could sense the energy flowing within filaments that ran throughout its frame. Somehow, the long-abused lift was still operable.
I shook my head dazedly, not fully understanding my newfound sixth sense. This is so… weird.
Sentinel's tower guardians shuffled into the elevator, the two of them barely able to squeeze in side-by-side. The AI's holographic form followed them in, turning to peer at me with a raised eyebrow. "Well? We're going up."
I stayed back, a little bit perplexed. "An elevator? But… but I thought you said that the climb could take weeks or months?"
"Oh, it will," she muttered, maneuvering her drones around to form a pocket of space where I could fit. "Depending on the severity of the tower's decay, the journey could very well take longer than my original estimate."
"But…?" I gestured at the elevator, shrugging helplessly.
Sentinel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's not gonna take us all the way up, dummy! It probably won't even clear the highest floor of the silvaplate. The main shaft is ancient, and large sections of it are blocked off by rubble. But if we can just get near the top of the silvaplate, then we can find our way to the spire's exterior. Once we're out, we can follow one of the maintenance stairways that spirals right up the tower wall, all the way up to the ion corridor. Beyond that, Section C ends and Section B begins."
I nodded, gingerly squeezing into the lift. Turning my gaze downwards, I stared at the void visible through the grating at my feet and shivered. "Um… Sentinel, are you sure this is safe?"
She grinned wickedly, pressing a button on the wall marked with an upwards-facing arrow. "Nope. Goooooing up!"
A harsh clanking sound rippling through the enclosed space as the elevator lurched upwards, knocking me off my feet. The lift shook violently from side to side, grinding along the rails which hadn't seen use in hundreds of years. Praying to whatever gods were out there, I tightly grasped a railing that ran the perimeter of the elevator car.
"Um… how hi—"
"About a kilometer up," the AI interrupted quickly, answering my question before I had even finished stating it.
"Oh…" I cast my gaze down, staring at the laces of my boots. "Sentinel…"
She cast a sidelong glance at me. "Yes, administrator?"
I nervously took a breath. "Why do you dislike humans so much…?"
Sentinel glared at me, her AGRA-NX huffing in perfect sync. "If you'd been through what I've been through… if you knew what I knew… you would hate them with every fiber of your being. You wouldn't even be able to look at your precious Metria."
"Her name's Mitri…" I muttered weakly, correcting the AI.
She sighed, throwing up her arms. "Whatever. Point is, they've done things—horrible things. For seven centuries, I've watched them, I've seen what they're capable of. Humans native to Asciydria, or humans from elsewhere… It doesn't matter where they come from. There's no good in them. There never was."
"Was it… because of what Sol Ciel did with Seven Bloodstains?"
The AI snorted. "No. I wasn't even self-aware at that point, so it doesn't affect me on a personal level. And even when Sol Ciel came for me two years later, I met their actions with logic, not hatred. I understand why those humans tried to erase me, why they had to completely gut the tower in the process of hunting me down. I accept it, because I know that I would've done the same thing were I in their position."
Her face hardened. "…No. I hate them because of how easily they betrayed me. How we formed an alliance, a mutual compact that I sacrificed so much for… only for them to stab me in the back the second they got what they needed. I hate them because of how willing they were to commit genoci—" She trailed off.
"Genocide…?"
"Ah…" The AI shook her head rapidly. "I… got a little too into it, sorry. I don't exactly like to remember this kind of stuff." Lifting her chin, she gave me a sad smile. "It's just… funny, I suppose. I've had a lot of memories get erased over the centuries, and the bad ones tend to stick around a lot more than the good ones… You know what, forget it."
"Right…" I murmured, averting my eyes.
"Point is," she finished grimly, "I gave the humans plenty of chances. They blew it. So I have no pity nor mercy for any of them anymore. The same goes for the Reyvateils; the difference there is that there's none of them left for me to hate."
And then I felt it, in the shaft above us. A breach in the wall, where the rails were cut. My eyes widened with fear. If the elevator gets derailed, we'll…!
I lunged for the control panel, hitting the 'emergency stop' button with an open palm. The interior compartment was suddenly bathed in blood-red light. With a horrible metallic grinding sound, the elevator came to an abrupt halt.
"With all due respect administrator, what the fuck?" Sentinel screeched angrily, rushing over.
I dazedly pointed upwards, unsure of what exactly had just happened. "The track up there… it's…"
"What?" she said sharply, following my index finger. Then she paused, frozen in midair. The AI gained a thoughtful look. "I wonder… oh, and watch your head," she added as an afterthought.
The horned tower guardian grunted, then suddenly rose to its full, terrifying height. Its wickedly-sharp tusk tore through the ceiling like paper. I stumbled back, shielding my head from the sudden rain of dust and broken ceiling tiles.
"Good call, administrator…" Sentinel breathed.
I cautiously opened my eyes, arms falling back to my sides. Curiously bringing up my flashlight, I aimed the beam through the newly-made hole in the ceiling.
My sixth sense had been right. My beam of light panned across a twisted and mangled elevator track that abruptly cut off. I craned my neck, but I couldn't manage to spot where the track continued. It was as if every rail above this altitude had been ripped clean out of the wall.
"Really nice," the AI remarked warmly, drifting up through the gap to get a closer look. "It looks like this entire section of track broke off when its anchoring points gave way. If the elevator had dislodged from the rails here…" she pointed straight down, leaving the sentence hanging in the still air.
"We would've fallen all the way to the bottom of the shaft," I said weakly, struggling to calm myself down now that the scare was over.
"Indeed we would've." She descended, re-entering the elevator compartment. "How'd you know that the track was damaged, anyway?"
I shrugged helplessly, adjusting my necklace. "I just kinda… knew, I guess?"
Sentinel's eyebrows rose with genuine surprise. "…I see." She turned away quickly… though I could've sworn that the AI had traces of a smile on her tiny lips.
I kicked at the dusty floor. We weren't going anywhere. "Sooooo… what now?"
The AI pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Just wait. Let me think…" Her face brightened. "Ah! I've got it. Hold on just a sec."
With a high-pitched whirr of servos, our cargo transporter rose to its full height. Aiming its skeletal head upwards into the shaft, the machine released a deafening screech. My ears rang with the force of the sudden outcry. Its call echoed up into the shaft, repeating over and over as it grew fainter in the distance.
"Why…" I coughed feebly, removing my hands from my ears.
"It's just echolocation," Sentinel shot back, rolling her eyes. "I sent out a pulse to see how high the shaft goes before it stops." Her eye twitched. "Ah… approximately seven hundred meters up, there's a blockage. Somewhere between here and there, there should be a set of doors that lead into one of the upper laboratories of the silvaplate." She gained a thoughtful look. "Maybe… about five hundred meters up?"
"So…" I asked suspiciously, not liking where this was going. "How do we get from here to there, then…?"
The AI grinned maliciously, one of her machines aiming a spotlight at a series of rungs that ran up the side of the shaft into the darkness above.
I slumped against the wall, suddenly drained. "Please noooo…"
"Believe me, I don't want this any more than you do," she grumbled, folding her arms. "I've gotten a handle on my flight capabilities again, so I could get up there via jump jets or simply fly my drones up. But…" the AI shrugged helplessly.
"But…?" I pressed.
She hung her head, shame evident in her feeble voice. "…Access denied. I lack the clearance necessary to enter those laboratories. It was an area that only specific human and Reyvateil personnel could enter, due to the presence of highly-classified research."
"And I'm supposed to help how…?"
"You're the Tower Administrator!" she threw up her arms in exasperation. "I could count the number of places you can't enter on one hand. All you've gotta do is climb up there, disable that floor's security protocols, and then I can follow you up."
"You make it sound really simple…" I grumbled, peering up the ladder that vanished into the dark.
"That's because it is. When you've reached the sealed set of doors, there should be an access terminal recessed somewhere into the wall. Once you've logged in with your administrator credentials, it should be pretty easy to kill the systems. Then, I can cut through the door and bring up the rest of our party." She thumbed at the two quadrupedal drones, who stood motionless in the elevator car.
"Fine…" I caved, slumping against the wall. "I'll do it…"
"No need to be so nervous," the AI said encouragingly. "There's a rail that runs alongside the ladder; you can tether yourself to it. And I'll send my drones up with you to provide light." Accompanying her words, circular hatches on the Type-14's lower back opened with a dull clunk. The sound was immediately followed by the muted hum of engines firing up.
Two small tower guardians—identical to the ones that had come for me during that terrifying first night in the forest—rose from the cargo carrier's launch tubes. Their sleek flanks warmed with the glow of running lights. Powerful spotlights affixed to the machines' domed summits came to life, bathing the shaft above in twin pillars of light.
My eyes were drawn to the rustling of fabric. Lowering my gaze from the drones that hung in the air, I caught site of Sentinel. She grunted, straining against a fastener that held closed one of the bags lined along the Type-14's flanks. The buckle was almost as big as her.
I gently nudged her aside, exposing the bag's contents. Reaching in, I extracted a bundle of rope. "Is this the thing you were looking for, Sentinel?"
"Yeah," she grumbled, dusting off her robe. It was an odd gesture for an AI—let alone one with a holographic avatar—to make. "If you tie it around your waist, you can fasten the other end to the guide rail."
"Okay…" Swallowing hard, I tightly fastened the rope around my hips, triple-checking the knot to be sure that it held. Chrisphar, wherever you are, in whatever reality comes after this one… thank you for taking me fishing that one time. If nothing else, it taught me how to tie knots correctly.
I nodded subtly, as comfortable with my handiwork as I would ever be. "I'm ready… I think."
The AI smiled, taking command of her largest drone. "Glad to hear it." The hulking machine released a snort, sitting on its haunches and raising its head up through the gaping hole in the ceiling.
I gingerly made my way up the AGRA-NX's spine, eyes fixated on the dark shaft overhead. A shiver traveled down my spine. I couldn't help but notice how the rungs looked like they faded into nothingness.
Then I was reassured by a pair of mechanical chirps, a metallic shape lightly pressing into my back. I knew that Sentinel was there for me.
Clambering over the tangle of machinery affixed to the top of the elevator car, I made my way over to the access ladder. Deftly tethering myself to the guide rail, I thought back to how high I needed to climb.
Sentinel said about… five hundred meters. Half a kilometer of ladder… I held up my slender arms, inspecting the muscles—or lack thereof. An explosive and resigned sigh burst from my throat. This isn't gonna be fun…
I gasped for breath, taking a brief respite. Sweat dripped from my body. My arms were wrapped tightly around a rung, and I allowed the guide rail to support some of my weight. We had been ascending for almost an hour; the climb was equal parts mind-numbing and exhausting. The AI's drones waited patiently, drifting in tandem in the empty space.
I glared at the airborne machines, wheezing. "Ca—can't they just… carry me up? P—please…"
A sarcastic laugh emitted from one of the tower guardians. "You wish. Administrator, you may be light—but you're not that light. Keep in mind that it took four of these puppies to lift you last time."
"But… but I was… I was bi—bigger back then…"
"…Still." I could almost picture Sentinel rolling her eyes dismissively.
Breath successfully caught, I resumed my slow climb to infinity. "Sentinel…" I huffed, methodically putting one hand over the other. My boots clanged on the metal rungs. "Wh—why is the tower… in such terr—terrible shape? Everything's… ruined! I tho—thought that it was your job to take care of it…!"
One of the drones bobbed in the air in an approximation of a shrug, accompanied by a mechanical chirp in a non-committal tone. "I'm not as mighty as you think, administrator. Like I said in the plasma bell, I can't manufacture components for large-scale repairs anymore. And as previously established, I don't actually have very high security clearance." She sighed. "There's a loooot of places where I can't go without authorization from a human operator. The fact that we're in the silvaplate doesn't help matters much, either."
"Why… why's that?" I carefully untied myself from the guide rail, sliding the rope over a strut that fastened the thin railing to the side of the shaft. Working quickly, I re-tethered myself.
"It's because of the Isles of Aria," my companion replied. "While each and every one of them is held aloft thanks to the plasma bell's resonance field, they still drift in the air currents. Unfortunately, that means that the islands graze along the tower wall a lot. And when you've got a metal wall getting rammed by an entire fucking landmass… well, you get the picture. Long story short, it's really done a number on the silvaplate over the centuries."
"S—so that door," I panted, wiping the sweat from my brow. "The one that… that led out into the pretty meadow…"
"It's an island wedged into the outer hull of the silvaplate, yes." Apprehension entered the AI's voice. "And, for what it's worth… a huge contributing factor to Asciydria's current state is the fact that I can't produce new tower guardians anymore."
"R—right…" I huffed again, already exhausted and in need of another breather. "Why's that, anyway?" I recalled that she had briefly mentioned it inside the plasma bell, but without the details behind it.
"Because my tower guardian construction facilities were destroyed in a large-scale battle three-hundred and fifty years ago." I could hear the anguish in her voice. It was clear that it was something that still greatly troubled her. "The facilities, located at the base of the silvaplate, were almost completely obliterated."
A tone of frustration entered her voice. "Sure, I could've fixed it right back up after… if it weren't for the fact that the severe damage made sections of the main shaft collapse, flattening the location where the facilities once were. Removing all the rubble would have almost certainly compromised what little structural integrity the main shaft had left… In fact, doing so potentially could have made the entire spire give way!"
"That's awful…" I coughed, pausing for a moment to take a sip of water from a canteen on my belt.
"Sure was," she spat bitterly. "I even had to weld the rubble in place to keep everything intact and stable—the complete opposite of what I wanted to do."
"I get it…" I turned my gaze upward, thoroughly tired of the unchanging scenery of the elevator shaft. "H—how much longer…?"
"Good question. Let's find out." One of the machines trained its spotlight upwards, the beam implacably cutting through the densest of shadows. "Almost there!" she announced triumphantly. "Only about twenty meters left."
Gritting my teeth, I gave it one final push. Legs like pistons, I surged up the ladder. Above me, the shape of a set of double doors resolved from the gloom. I came up alongside it, gulping air.
"Top floor," Sentinel announced dryly. "Sporting goods, housewares, and creepy science experiments!" Her drones circled about, which gave me the amusing mental image of the AI pacing back and forth. "Okay, we made it. Now… access terminal, access terminal…"
I closed my eyes, pressing a palm against the wall.
"It's… right here." feeling my way along the bulkhead, my fingernails locked around the edges of some kind of panel on the wall. After scraping at it for a moment, it popped open, revealing a small keypad and display screen. At a mere touch, the terminal came to life.
Silvaplate Level A-14. Please enter registration ID or hymn code.
Something immediately came to my mind, dredged up from the shattered fragments of my oldest memories from before I'd awoken. I tapped away at the keypad, my fingers working on autopilot.
SYLPHIRA_ANSUL_ASCIYDRIA
How did I know that…? I wondered, idly waiting for something to happen. The terminal chimed suddenly, lighting up green.
Hymn code confirmed. Handshake connection with SH server established. Welcome, Tower Administrator Sylphira.
"Cool…" I breathed, exploring the multitude of options that had become available to me. The user interface was surprisingly intuitive… though it felt like I had done this before. More residual memories.
WARNING: This selection will disable Silvaplate Level A-14's security systems. Firewalls will be deactivated, and unauthorized personnel will not be denied entry! Selection not advised. Confirm Y/N?
Satisfied, I initiated the command. The terminal went dark, and I felt something imperceptibly shift within the walls. Somehow I knew with complete certainty that the security systems had gone offline. Of course, I had just done so with my own hands at the access terminal… but I could also feel it via my sixth sense.
"Did it work…?" I questioned tentatively, peering at the pair of tower guardians.
The AI exhaled with relief. "Yes! I can feel it. Now I can access the doors without my programming interfering. It's just a simple matter of getting inside, now. That's my department."
The pair of machines approached the double doors, coming in slow. "Administrator, you might want to keep your head down," she cautioned. Despite that, my own curiosity compelled me to watch.
The tower guardians drifted past, stopping before the inner doors. Hatches on their streamlined fuselages popped open, segmented arms emerging. Each machine sported three of the mechanized limbs. Two of them were squat but powerful, reinforced with compressing shock absorbers and bundles of cable. Both limbs ended in an odd metal panel. The third and final arm, long and spindly, was tipped with some kind of nozzle.
In perfect sync, Sentinel's drones pressed against the vertical steel surface, latching on with the two sturdy arms. I realized that the panels were electromagnets, designed to allow the machine to lock onto metallic surfaces.
"Really, administrator?" Sentinel huffed. "If you insist on watching me work, you should at least close your eyes or look away when I start cutting. Do you wanna go blind or something?"
"I just wanted to watch…" I muttered feebly, averting my eyes somewhat.
The tower guardians' third arms kissed the surface, their nozzles making contact with metal. With a whoosh, twin flames ignited, the pair of cutting torches making short work of the elevator doors. I shut my eyes tightly, turning away as a shower of sparks tumbled down the open shaft.
"Watch yourself!" she cried.
With a twisted screech, the doors fell free. Panicked, I pressed my body against the rungs, making myself as small as possible. The red-hot slabs fell past me, vanishing into the abyss. A cacophony burst up from the darkness below as they were battered to pieces against the walls of the shaft.
I turned my gaze back to the doorway, which now gaped wide open. The tower guardians hung in the air, their aerodynamic bodies silhouetted by the glow of superheated metal behind them. It looked like the AI was admiring her own handiwork with pride.
"Climb on up, administrator!" she called. "Oh, and mind the hot edges. I'm told that third-degree burns aren't fun."
"Yay…" I groused, carefully removing my tether. Gingerly lifting myself over the molten edges of the doorway, I clambered up onto the new level.
Nothing but shadows met my gaze. Level A-14 was shrouded in darkness. Sentinel's spotlights barely even penetrated the gloom. Shuffling across the floor, I plastered myself against a bulkhead that was partially illuminated by the AI's cutting job. It was as far away from the malevolent shadows as possible.
My companion laughed softly, her holographic form emerging from one of the machines. "Still scared of the dark, huh?"
"M—maybe…" I stammered. I extracted my teddy bear from my pack, pressing him tightly against my chest. Even here, in this dark and scary place, I still had a small part of my big sister Mitri to keep me safe.
A glint of rainbow light from my necklace drew my gaze. I grazed it with a fingertip, smiling faintly. Yeah… they're still here with me, in their own special way.
A look of pity crossed the AI's face. "Well, just sit tight. Catch your breath for a minute! I'm bringing up the Type-14 now, so hold onto your butt."
A distant explosion echoed up the shaft as the gigantic machine rocketed upwards, blue flames blasting out through vents on its belly and legs. With a huge metallic crunch, the tower guardian shot through the doorway and impacted, hard. It shattered floor tiles on impact, spraying debris in every direction. The decaying floor groaned with distress under the machine's not-insignificant weight.
"Whoa…" I breathed, wide-eyed.
The cargo-carrying tower guardian, having already recovered from its short flight, padded deeper into the shadows. With a heavy clunk, floodlights across its body snapped to life. The Type-14's lighting arrays made those of the AGRA-NX look like a mere candle. The chamber was suddenly bathed in a brilliant light, so blinding that I had to shield my eyes.
"Guh…" I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the new brightness levels. The chamber and all of the details it held rapidly came into clarity.
As Sentinel had said, it seemed to be a laboratory of some kind. Though with the widespread devastation, it was hard to tell. It looked like the entirely of Seven Bloodstains had taken place in this singular room.
The chamber—like everything else in this derelict of a tower—was enormous, its farthest reaches hidden in the shadows. They were beyond the not-insignificant circle of light that the Type-14's lighting arrays projected. Great swaths of the laboratory were buried beneath piles of rubble from the level above. Shattered pipes protruded like daggers from great fissures in the ceiling, and twisted steel girders rose up through the black tiles that made up the floor. With the manmade stalactites, widespread decay, and darkness, the abandoned lab almost felt like some kind of cavern. It even had a low and oppressive ceiling to boot, as well as the ever-present sound of dripping water that echoed through the void.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
What little floor space that wasn't buried under rubble was occupied by hundreds upon hundreds of cubicles, workbenches, and large appliances that looked like figures hunched over in the dark. Low dividers sectioned off the different segments of the laboratory complex. I took a half-step forward and my boot grazed against some kind of discarded power tool. The object had decayed almost to the point of unrecognizability. Dozens just like it were scattered across the chamber, along with millions of rotting sheets of paper. A thick layer of dust covered everything like a blanket.
No one had been here in hundreds of years. This entire floor was dead, devoid of life. Yet even here, amidst the dust and decay, I could still feel a steady stream of symphonic power flowing upwards.
A blue light grew in the corner of my eye, my AI companion drawing to my side. She sniffed disapprovingly, evidently dissatisfied with the spire's severe degradation. "We are now in the upper research labs of the silvaplate. These workspaces take up the entirety of this level, as well as several more above it."
"That… that's a lot of ground to cover…" I uttered weakly, lacking the drive to explore after my tiring ordeal in the elevator shaft. Every muscle in my body ached.
Sentinel nodded. "Indeed. That said, there should be several access hatches spaced around the circumference of this floor. Meant for maintenance workers, they allow one to pass through the spire's inner and outer dividing walls. Any one of those will lead to the exterior of the tower—our current destination. We need to find one."
"Mmh…"
"But first," she added with a sly grin, "let's bring up the big guy. Brace for impact!"
"Wait, wha—"
A deafening boom erupted from the open shaft at my back, followed by the grating screech of metal on metal. I could sense the freight elevator's circuitry going dark, atomized by the ignition of the AGRA-NX's jump jets.
The tower guardian came screaming up the shaft, rising on a pillar of sparks as it scraped against the walls. I leapt back in the nick of time; it plowed through the open doorway, taking out chunks of wall and ceiling on the way in. It landed hard, releasing a shockwave that knocked me onto my backside. A wide circle of floor tiles around the impact site was pulverized into dust, and I felt structural braces beneath the surface buckle and snap. Miraculously the floor somehow held, leaving the machine standing in a smoking crater while the dust settled.
The sudden blow to the spire's internal structure seemed to cause a small reaction in my own body, mirroring what had happened during the plasma bell disaster. I winced, gingerly rubbing my belly. I had felt a small twinge of pain—no more than a pinprick—materialize suddenly inside my abdomen, vanishing as quickly as it had come.
The AI sighed with relief, casting me an apologetic glance in acknowledgement of the pain I had felt. "…Whew. For a second there, I was pretty sure that the floor would give way."
"M—me too…" I uttered feebly, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I shuffled through the darkness, kicking a canister along the floor. The metal cylinder skittered through the corridor, kicking up trails of dust. Grumbling with annoyance, I noted the presence of a deep gouge in the bulkhead up ahead. It was a marking left by Sentinel's tower guardian, meant to show that she had already covered this area.
Sighing with resignation, I turned my focus inward. >Um, Sentinel… where are you now?<
Her reply was prompt. >Administrator.< The AI sounded every bit as frustrated as I was. >I've moved up to Level A-16 now, but it's still not looking good. Most of this floor has collapsed and I can't get anywhere near the inner dividing wall, let alone the outer one. How about you?<
I brought the beam of my flashlight to bear on the marking that her AGRA-NX had left behind. >I'm still on A-14… I think I ran across an area you've checked already, though.< I briefly summarized my surroundings, the labyrinth of corridors and smaller chambers that I now found myself in.
>Ah… right, that place. Yeah, I cleared that yesterday. It was promising at first—it's rather close to the inner wall—but I couldn't find a way through. Careful in there, it's a maze.<
>I noticed…< My gaze turned back to the corridor ahead, sliding across the lines of doors spaced along the walls. Each one led into a private lab, workshop, meeting room, or some other place of industry. Though the architecture was unchanging within the silvaplate, some of the contents of said architecture would sometimes draw my curiosity—and occasionally result in a quick question relayed to my AI companion.
It had been forty-eight hours since the two of us had emerged from the empty shaft, commencing our expedition into the derelict ruins of what had once been a thriving workplace in the tower. At first I had stuck to Sentinel like glue, tearfully refusing to let go of the Type-14's leg in lieu of the oppressive darkness just beyond the ring of light. But after a day of wandering, a day of unchanging scenery, a day of walking through the same halls and the same rooms and clambering over the same piles of rubble, I was willing to entertain Sentinel's plan—to split up, enabling us to cover more ground. The interior of the silvaplate was vast, and couldn't be mapped out alone. And due to the nature of the reinforced and sound-deadening bulkheads found in the top-secret lab, the AI's method of using echolocation to capture the dimensions of an empty space didn't work so well.
The first time we split up, I had chased her down within minutes, tears streaming down my frightened face. I had pleaded with her to stay, to not leave me alone in the dark. Thanks to my first night in the forest and my encounter with the Other, I didn't exactly have a fondness for it. But in spite of that she refused, pushing me away.
"You need to become strong, administrator," she had said. "If I go easy on you, if I grow complacent in your upbringing… then that's not gonna be able to happen. I can't. I'm sorry."
So she left me.
Though, it turned out to not be as bad as I'd previously believed. I adapted quickly to being on my own. I could still communicate with her at any time via our telepathic link, and she would nonetheless come running should there be some kind of emergency. So far she had only needed to come once, during another attack that had left me writhing on the floor. She had helped me back to my feet, gifted a few words of kindness, encouragement, and the usual dose of dry sarcasm, then melted back into the shadows.
I poked my head into one of the side rooms, peering at the misshapen forms in the darkness. Bathed in the glow of my flashlight, they revealed themselves to be nothing more than a line of workbenches and metalworking appliances. From lathes to welders to cutting tools, the chamber was filled with them. The far end of the room was packed with large bins, each filled with various raw materials. Hand tools and blueprints lay scattered across the floor. With everything that had been cast aside, it seemed as if the complex had been evacuated in a hurry.
Mmh… I stepped into the room, glancing around curiously. I knew that I wouldn't find an access hatch here, but I couldn't deny my own interest in the tower's former inhabitants.
My eyes locked on the furthest workbench, drawn by the glint of steel. I approached the table, squinting at the odd silhouette lying across its surface. >Um, Sentinel…<
>Yes, Administrator? Did you find something?<
>Kinda… sorta…? N—not really, I guess. I found some kind of… um, weapons lab, I think.< I gingerly poked the conical object with a finger, having realized that it was a wicked-looking lance. Its length must have been equal to or greater than my own height. >There's a bunch of scary and dangerous stuff in here…<
>Mmh,< she replied, disinterested. >Nothing else?<
I experimentally grasped the handle of the enormous lance, straining to lift it. While doing so, I couldn't help but notice that four rocket thrusters protruded from the weapon's vamplate in a wide plus-shape. >Nggh! I… I was just wondering if this is leftover stuff from Sol Cluster. I mean… this is their tower, right? The military's?<
The AI hesitated. >Weeeell… yes and no. Asciydria was… uh, put under new management when the Sol Cluster military collapsed. It was brought about in the aftermath of Seven Bloodstains.<
I frowned, releasing my grip on the weapon. With its wickedly-sharp tip and rocket thrusters, I couldn't help but shiver at the idea of being impaled on it. >Really…? Who did that?<
>The Aegis Alliance of Ar Ciel did. It was an organization founded with the goal to nurse the planet back to health after the scars it had incurred during Seven Bloodstains.< Her voice filled with disdain. >They were led by El Elemia of Sol Ciel.<
>Wait…!< I gasped, freezing up. >Aren't those the guys wh—<
>Yes, they were,< the AI spat bitterly. >Real nice, right? The nation who inflicted so much damage to the world put themselves in charge of fixing it. Remember when we were in the shaft the other day, and I made a vague remark of how the humans had tried to erase me? That was the Aegis Alliance. Or rather, it was one of the divisions that had split off from the main branch at Sol Ciel—a smaller group called Ayrakii R&D.<
That makes sense… I thought to myself. If the Sol Cluster alliance really collapsed like she said, then they wouldn't have been able to maintain the tower. And that means that Sol Ciel came over to take it by force, to get their technology back. I bet they wouldn't have been happy about Sentinel, either… I thought back to one of my earlier dreams, the one that had culminated in an assault on the Apex by unknown forces and the death of my creator.
I shook my head wryly, recalling what the invading forces had said. They even called themselves 'Elemia spec ops' to boot! That's one piece of the puzzle taken care of, I guess.
Giving the rocket-powered lance a lingering touch, I hurried back out into the corridor. >I think that makes sense. My tow—um, this tower was originally built as a military installation… but Ayrakii got their hands on it, and they modified it to launch things into space?<
>More or less,< she replied. >Though I wouldn't exactly say that Ayrakii modified it, per say. Credit where credit is due; the spire was barebones at best when they came for us in 3034, and the workers they brought with them practically rebuilt it from scratch. Right up until the Grathnode Inferia hit six years later, they were still adding components.<
>Mhh…< I continued my shuffle down the hallway, kicking along the same canister. >But… but that doesn't answer my question… What's with all the weapons and stuff?<
Sentinel was silent for a long moment. >…Oh. Well, it was one of many of Ayrakii's side projects. Alongside communications, song amplification, and space launch, they ran a lot of research and development projects.< An undertone of playfulness entered her ethereal voice. >I mean… it is right in the name, after all! Ayrakii Research & Development.<
"Right…" I grumbled aloud, inaudible to the AI.
>But yeah. To finish that point, research and development was their thing. New tower components, new and exciting types of song magic, new tower guardian models… heck, even my AGRA-NX is a descendant of an old Sol Ciel design. If you imagined anything at all, there's probably already a prototype of it buried in the rubble somewhere around here.<
>Okay… thank you for answering.<
>By the way,< she questioned, changing the topic. >Any luck down there yet? I'm pretty certain that this floor is a total wash. I'm gonna head back down to Level A-15 and recheck the perimeter.<
I came to a halt, peering around. I had ended up in a new area, though the inner dividing wall was still nowhere in sight. Sentinel had told me that its inner surface would be covered with ornate carvings, etched into a bronzed metal. Nothing like that was illuminated in the wandering beam of my flashlight. >Um… nope. There's nothing here…<
>Dammit,< she hissed with frustration. >If we can't find a way out, then I'm stumped.<
>How do you get your tower guardians past this normally?< I questioned. >I mean… surely you've needed to move them around before… right?<
Sentinel sighed. >I wish it were that simple. I move my heavy land-based drones—like the AGRA-NX, for example—between Section B and C via specialized lifting rigs designed to carry heavy cargo. They're all stranded up in Section B behind the prome wall, though.<
>Ah…< Nudging the canister to one side, I turned to walk down a new corridor that I hopefully hadn't wandered through already. Please… please be here… The tight corridors and oppressive darkness was wearing me down, slowly but surely.
>Just keep searching,< she muttered, her voice growing distant. >Don't give up. We can't.<
While exploring one of dozens of identical isolated laboratories, I spotted something—a glimmer of rainbow light caught in the beam of my flashlight. Stepping deeper into the chamber, I approached the shimmering objects scattered across the room with interest.
>Sentinel…? I found something in one of the labs…< I kneeled down before a large display case, peering curiously at the bottom shelf. The shelving unit bristled with dozens of multicolored crystalline structures. The room was utterly filled with them.
>If it's not the dividing wall, I don't wanna hear it,< the AI grumbled. Her mood had deteriorated quickly in the last few hours while she dug through the remnants of Level A-15 for the third time.
I gingerly picked one up, holding it under the beam of my flashlight. Its faceted surface shone a warm sky-blue. The crystalline core object anchored within a silvery metal frame. I could feel energy simmering deep within; this was clearly no normal rock. The socket on my forearm tingled suddenly, and I absentmindedly scratched it.
Making my best attempt to describe it, I spoke back to my AI companion. >I found a bunch of gemstones here… at least, I think they're gemstones…?< I shook my head. >Um, there's a lot of them, all in different colors. Some of them are set inside frames, and there's more that are really slender and spiky.<
>Ah,< she said knowingly. >Well, the pointy-looking ones are called grathnode crystals. They're meant to be inserted into a Reyvateil's body via one's install port, to alter the grathnode layer within. Doing so has the potential to change the properties of any song magic one might use.<
>Y—you stick these into your body?!< I gingerly poked the tip of one, feeling its jagged contours. The process seemed horribly painful. I couldn't imagine ever willingly submitting myself to that.
>Indeed,< she confirmed, sounding somewhat irritated that I was pushing the topic. >The ones set in frames are different. Those are special storage mediums known as hymn crystals. Each one contains a data packet that translates into a unique piece of song magic.<
"Song magic…?" I whispered aloud, staring into the hymn crystal's swirling depths with wonder. Despite the fact that I was a Reyvateil Origin—allegedly one of the most powerful singers in the world—I had only used song magic on one occasion, and it had bugged out upon usage. >Could I use these to help me learn song magic?<
>Uh, NO!< she exclaimed, horrified. >Do you want brain damage? Because that's how you get brain damage! Those things are in here for a reason. They're all experimental. We have no idea how those hymn crystals work, or if they even work at all. They could very well be loaded with corrupted code for all you know! It's not safe to use them!<
>Aww…< Excitement fading away to be replaced with bitter disappointment, I slipped the shimmering gem back into the display case. Though just as I turned away to leave, a flash of light caught my eye.
Wait, what's that…?
There was a small safe at the far end of the room, anchored to the wall. Though, the safe wasn't exactly safe anymore. The door of the reinforced box had corroded, hanging loose from its frame at an odd angle. A silvery light shone from within. I felt drawn by the hypnotic glow.
I reached out, nudging aside the rusty door. At my touch, it tumbled out of its frame and hit the tiled floor with a dull clunk. Ignoring the sound, I reverently scooped up the mysterious light source.
It was another hymn crystal, but this one was indescribably beautiful. Kept safe within a carbon-black metal frame, the crystalline object pulsed with a dim white light. Though within its swirling depths, there was something else. Occasionally the white mists within would part for the briefest of moments, revealing an inky black void lurking just below the surface. Tiny arcs of blue-tinged electricity surged back and forth between the stormy clouds, closely resembling lightning. It was practically an entire world inside there.
Pretty… but why is it inside a safe? None of the others are… What makes this one different? Is it dangerous? Valuable, maybe…?
Captivated by the flickering light, I slipped it into a rucksack pocket. A… souvenir, I guess. Shaking my head, I promptly made my way out of the chamber. Even though I'd left the lab behind, I couldn't shake the feeling that the hymn crystal in my pack was important somehow.
—ure, error code 100605.
I gritted my teeth, rubbing my temples vigorously. Wha… what the heck is this?!
Several minutes ago, I had begun to feel something in my head—some kind of internal pressure. At first I had thought that it was just a headache brought about by my current levels of stress and frustration… but then the pressure had amplified. That was when I started suspecting that it was another attack, and I had been ready to plead for Sentinel to come… and that's when I started hearing voices. My own voice, speaking in a dull and mechanical monotone. A hypnotic siren call, drawing me through the darkness—a signal.
Uplink Unit 2-B system failure, error code 100605.
"W—what do you want?!" I cried out, stumbling down the corridor.
Uplink Unit 2-B system failure, error code 100605.
The signal drew me inexorably through the labyrinth of passages, finally converging on a vault-like door that I hadn't seen before. Much like everything else on this level, the steel plating had mostly rotted away. At a touch, the door crumbled off its hinges, revealing—no surprise—yet another lab, its furnishings almost identical to the rest.
What was I supposed to see in here? I wandered into the chamber, staring into the shadows all around me with trepidation. The fact that the pressure in my skull had evaporated the instant I crossed the threshold into the room didn't escape my notice.
Wait… I clicked off my flashlight, peering into the gloom. What's that weird glow?
My suspicions had been correct; a green light flickered dimly up ahead. The source of the signal, maybe?
I shone my flashlight beam on a large rectangular shape that sat at the back of the room. The object appeared to be some kind of containment unit, its exterior covered in panels of dense midnight-black plating. However, the ceramic squares had cracked with age, and some had even come loose. If this was the source of the signal, then it was escaping due to the unit's severely damaged state.
But why me? Is it because I'm closer to the epicenter than Sentinel, or because of who and what I am? It's speaking in my voice, too…
There was a thick glass porthole on one side of the rectangular chamber, and I approached it with nervous consternation. I had no idea what would necessitate such extreme containment measures like this. Radioactive stuff? Weapons? A captured Other…? The last possibility was particularly terrifying, giving me pause.
I hesitantly peered in through the small viewing port, trying in vain to make out the sealed unit's contents.
Wait… what is that thing?
The interior of the containment unit was spotless, sealed as it was for centuries… though it wasn't empty. An odd spherical object lay inert within. I panned my flashlight beam across it, catching a glimpse of glass and metal. What I presumed was a gaping hole on the underside of the strange object—it must have been hollow—radiated a viridian light, spilling across the containment unit's floor.
A moment of realization. Oh…! It's just a helmet of some kind. I get it. Shuffling around the unit's perimeter, I searched for some kind of access point. Finding a small door on the back of the unit, I twisted it open and reached in, extracting the headgear.
I flipped the helmet over in my hands, perplexed. I had never seen anything like it. It would have been incredibly out of place in the rustic village of Mist's Reach, looking like something straight out of science fiction and almost alien.
The helmet was molded from a sturdy yet surprisingly-lightweight metal alloy, polished to a sheen and painted a matte white. Even after centuries, the piece of equipment looked as if it had come off the assembly line only yesterday. The helmet's faceplate, starting just above the mouth, was covered by a transparent glass visor. Though it was strange; I had expected to stare through the glass and see the padded interior of the helmet. Yet beneath the glass lay only gray steel, inlaid with circuitry and wiring. Five gaping holes set into the helmet's 'face' under the visor resembled hollow eye sockets to an uncanny degree. The lower portion of the face was shielded behind a jet-black metal plating that ended in a sort of locking collar where the neck should be. Evidently, there was more to this than just a solitary helmet.
That's really strange, though… It was unclear how exactly the helmet was supposed to work, due to the fact that it had no eyeholes. Both the nose and the mouth were covered, too. A potential wearer would be blind, not to mention suffocating.
Well… those five eye-looking things on the face could be camera lenses… I turned it over in my hands, peering into the armor's interior. A single green light burned from within.
Then I started, quickly setting it back down. My imagination had taken the reins. I wonder what I'd look like if I wore this…? I wouldn't look human, that's for sure. I'd look like a scary robot or something. Like the machine that I really am…
I giggled to myself, shaking the sobering thoughts away. Dummy. Don't take this so seriously! I can always just take it off, after all. I don't even think it's gonna fit anyway; it's way too big for me.
Taking a deep breath, I nervously slipped the oversized helmet on.
It was every bit as claustrophobic as I'd thought, perhaps even moreso. I was utterly blind, deaf, and it was difficult to breathe. My heart fluttered nervously as I settled to the floor, getting used to the weird feeling.
I snorted suddenly, not exactly sure of what I was doing. …Now what?
The helmet gave its answer. The green light—which had emitted from a tiny fixture mounted to an interior surface at the corner of my eye—vanished, replaced with an angry red. It pulsed once, twice, three times. Then it went dark. I waited in the dark for a long moment, frozen, waiting for something else to happen.
Yet nothing did.
I got the vague sense that I had just been denied access. I… guess that's it? That light must be a warning or something… and I guess that explains the error code the signal mentioned. So that means it's broken. And even so, it wouldn't fit in my pack, anyway. Disappointed, I cast the piece of equipment aside, making sure to put it back inside its broken containment unit. Though as I was doing so, I noticed a label plastered to the back of the helmet.
DO NOT REMOVE
Project Label ______________ Amplification Systems Uplink Unit 2-B, Version 0.96 [EXPERIMENTAL]
Serial Number _____________ 820031507436
Manufacturer(s) ___________ Ayrakii Research & Development, Kurogane Labs
Development Lead _________ Lekan Finnr (lead engineer), Eli Meinrad (head foreman)
Manufacturing Date ________ 29/05/3038
Production Status __________ Discontinued
Miscellaneous Notes ________ Prototype hardware discontinued due to successful production of the 1.0 unit. This outdated component will henceforth be utilized to study the structural integrity of airmetal alloys before and after exposure to ultra-high wave frequencies. Please contact Eli Meinrad on Level A-16 for more information. Be prepared to provide component serial number upon request.
Mmh… Losing interest and finding the label irrelevant, I closed the hatch back up, re-affixed some of the unit's exterior shielding, then made my way out of the deserted laboratory. I exhaled with relief, noting that the ache wasn't returning—nor were the voices.
So that helmet was what sent the signal, because of its broken containment unit. Weird detour over, I guess…? Now I can get back on track.
I melted back into the shadows. I still had a job to do.
>Still no luck?< I asked tiredly, just about at my wit's end.
>No,< Sentinel snapped sullenly. >Nothing.<
Minor distractions notwithstanding, I had been searching this floor alone for five uninterrupted hours. Sentinel, with the advantage of having three additional bodies, had already covered two entire floors herself. Yet despite that, neither of us had found a way to access the inner dividing wall.
I sighed, plopping my behind down on a flat outcropping of rubble. While there were hundreds of chairs around, I wasn't exactly eager to test how well their structural integrity had fared over the centuries. Exhausted, I took a sip from my canteen, enjoying the sensation of cool water on my tongue.
This isn't working out so well… I kicked at the tiled floor, feeling like an utter failure. I'm supposed to be the Tower Administrator, and I can't even find my way out of it? Some administrator I am. If only I could see more than just symphonic power lines in the walls…
I froze, drink hovering at my lips. …Wait. Can I?
Taking flight, energized to the crazy idea that had come to mind, I rushed through the twisting and turning corridors, making my way back to the enormous central chamber where the main shaft was located. It ran dead-center through the silvaplate, and so would give me the best possible chance of finding an access hatch… if I was even physically capable of doing so.
It took several long minutes before I made it back to the cluster of elevator shafts. Though I had no problem remembering the correct path to make it back, the travel time wasn't insignificant. Gasping for breath, yet trembling with excitement, I slammed an open palm against the wall.
Okay… let's try this…!
My mind opened up, outer barriers falling into the void. All around me I felt tenuous fibers of flickering energy—the symphonic power lines that ran throughout the silvaplate, drawing energy from the Orgel below for the rest of the spire.
No… My brow creased. No. I don't wanna look through these. I need something else, something broader that covers more… like an overview.
I pushed again, attempting to force my perspective to shift. I turned my inner eye from the power lines, fixing my concentration on a single point of emptiness.
C'mon… c'mon… shift, please! Let me see something else! Shift! Shift. Clear search terms. Default view.
A gasp was torn from my throat as I was suddenly drawn into what I could only describe as an out-of-body experience. I felt isolated, detached from my physical form, staring down at tiny blotches of light buried within the derelict ruins of the silvaplate.
I saw myself at the main shaft—a radiant star surrounded by tiny motes of light. I could even make out a shimmering thread that must have been the connection between my physical body and my actual soul in the SH server… wherever that was. All I could tell was that it led straight up, to a distant point just below the summit of the tower.
But it wasn't just myself that I saw.
A spiderweb of gargantuan scale and complexity took my breath away. The unnamed network dominated the bulk of the tower, spreading across its furthest reaches. I stared up at it in wonder, noting how alike it was to a starry sky—and with the interconnecting ethereal threads, like a starmap.
And then, with a shock, I realized what it was.
Sentinel…
Here in this place—this place between the physical and the digital—I saw Sentinel's true form. The strength of the network making up her body waxed and waned, pulsing like the heartbeat of a living thing. Seeing her like this, it erased any flicker of doubt in my mind that the little AI wasn't truly sapient, subject to thoughts and emotions like any human. She was enormous, magnificent, a testament to the genius of those who had created her seven hundred years ago.
Though there were scars—wear and tear incurred over the long years. The most striking discrepancy was the severe lack of tower guardians required to sustain her consciousness. Several days ago in the plasma bell, Sentinel had told me that her original 'body' had contained fifteen thousand guardians, back when Asciydria Tower was in its prime. But now, there were far fewer.
2006 tower guardians. I tallied them up, far quicker than any human could. No, 2010. And when we were in the plasma bell the other day, Sentinel told me that she had about 2100 left. Which means in such a short amount of time, she's already lost almost a hundred more… probably when she had the hiccup that made her crash the Alto.
Though there was more than that. What she had managed to keep wasn't all there. I could tell, just by focusing on one point in particular. Doing so narrowed my focus, allowing me to view the diagnostics of individual tower guardians.
Oh…
It was alarming how many of the few she had left were immobile, damaged beyond repair or buried in rubble too deep to be excavated—though somehow they'd stubbornly held on, maintaining the AI's network.
And even beyond the hardware, her software had fared no better. Entire memory caches choked with lines upon lines of dysfunctional coding. Systems whose programming had been literally ripped out. Protocols that had been gutted, rewritten, then gutted and rewritten all over again. If the brilliant mind who had designed Sentinel could see her current state, the poor man would have broken down into tears.
But I could see more than that—much more. More than Sentinel's coding, more than the status of individual drones. I pulled back, expanding my viewing range yet maintaining my narrow focus on singular tower guardians. Able to see bursts of coding, light, and radiation filling up the void between machines, blurring together into smears of colors, I realized that what I was seeing was a broad look into her emotions.
Light flitted past my intangible eyes. I saw things here that I never expected to see in her, whom I saw as being so aloof and brimming with confidence.
Pale and gloomy shades of gray, aimlessly drifting back and forth like lost children.
Streaks of violet, flitting rapidly between the AI's nodes in a frantic and disoriented manner.
Washed-out shades of blue that permeated the entirety of her consciousness, so cold and devoid of warmth that I was nearly moved to tears.
I… I had no idea that she was like this…
It was then that my respect of Sentinel began to grow. It was no stretch to say that I didn't exactly like the AI. She was cold, mean, dismissive, and altogether unpleasant to be around—despite the admittedly-rare moments when she'd display a high degree of courage, self-sacrifice, and gentleness. For the first time, I felt like I could truly understand the AI, despite knowing so little about her. We were so much more similar than I'd previously thought.
Both her and I were relics from a long-dead world, out of place in this new and inhospitable parody of Ar Ciel.
N—no. I shook my head rapidly, drawing back from the AI's network. I… I shouldn't have seen this. I invaded her privacy, and it's not what I came here to do…!
Getting a handle on my emotions, I once again brought my inner eye to bear on the silvaplate. Motes of light winked in and out of existence, points of energy across the level.
I grimaced. Shift. New search terms; inner and outer dividing walls, silvaplate, Level A-14.
A golden halo flared up around the circumference of the silvaplate—the double layer of dividing walls. From here, I could feel my way along the curved surface, looking for breaks in the plating that would mark the presence of an access hatch.
My eyes widened, lips parting. I… I found one!
It took almost half an hour for me to hurry over, my legs burning with exertion by the time I arrived. Gulping down air and leaning on a crumbling pillar for support, I took an analytical look over what lay before me.
It was as Sentinel had described it. The wall here was bronze, glowing with warmth in the beam of my flashlight. Intricate glyphs and carvings etched into the surface caught my interest, but that wasn't what I had come for.
Access hatch, access hatch… I turned back and forth, raking my light across the curved wall. I know you're here, so where… are… you…?
My eyes focused on a nasty and treacherous thicket of scrap metal. Reaching from floor to ceiling, the cluster of mangled girders and rusty lines of jagged rebar glinted in the light. Had someone had asked me what I would call something like this, I would simply reply with 'meat grinder.'
Biting my lower lip, I tentatively reached out and wrapped my hand around a strip of rebar. Let's see if this moves…!
I yanked on the tube of metal, releasing a sudden cry of pain. My hands spasmed involuntarily, losing purchase. My palms had come back bloody and caked with flakes of rust.
"Ow…" I whimpered aloud, falling to my knees. I pressed my forehead to the dusty floor, fighting back tears while pain ran rampant through my forearms.
Stop it…! I scolded myself, trying to get my tears under control. You'll be okay! It'll heal in a minute! Just focus on solving the problem first.
"Yeah…" I breathed to myself, lifting my trembling chin. "F—focus."
I rose up on shaky legs, leaning against a nearby wall. Despite the seething pain, there was no doubt in my mind that the access hatch was somewhere behind that meat grinder.
I could ask Sentinel… but I dunno if she'd have much better luck than me. This pile is so huge, I don't even think that big and scary tower guardian could get through it.
Deep in thought, I folded my arms. There's just too much stuff to move! The only way through would be… a pinpoint strike, I think. Something like a drill, or… or…
My eyes widened. …Wait.
I know exactly what to get.
As I hurried off, I took note of my palms. The cuts had already faded to lines of angry-red crisscrossing scars, and even those were fading by the second. All that remained were a few patches of powdered rust.
Wait… where'd the blood go?
I frowned, flexing my fingers. The crimson gore covering my hands had vanished without a trace.
That's a little weird. I shrugged, more important things on my mind. If anything, I was happy to see it gone.
I suddenly exhaled tiredly, feeling moisture on my forearms. It's a little warmer in here than I thought… I'm a little damp with sweat from all that running earlier.
I let droplets of water slide from my fingers, spattering across the floor. Anyway, now that that's taken care of… I'll be right back, wall. I'm gonna go get an old friend!
It took well over an hour for me to return, dragging the enormous weight behind me. Upon arrival, I crumbled facedown to the floor, unable to stand.
"T—that hurt…"
Taking a breather, I took a moment to review what I was planning. I already double-checked that it had fuel… at least, I think that was the fuel tank. I won't be able to hold it steady, so I'll have to set it down on a table or something to support it. After that… I guess all I can do is activate it and hope for the best…
Yeah… hope for the best… because this thing is centuries old and probably never once got test-fired.
I rotated my head, feeling the cool tiles on my cheek. My fallen flashlight caught the object I had dragged all the way here, letting me catch a glimpse of its polished metal shaft.
Okay, rocket lance… let's see what you can do!
I shakily rose up, wrapping my hands around the monstrous weapon's hilt once more. Pulling it closer to the thicket of steel, I scampered off to find a method of supporting the lance. Finding a small desk nearby, I pushed it along the floor, positioning it in front of my target.
And now here comes the hard part. Bending down, I wrapped both arms around the rocket-powered lance, groaning with the sheer effort it took to lift. I understood perfectly well that I wasn't anywhere near the scale of an adult, but I still had trouble picturing a human who could heft something so massive.
Please don't break, please don't break… My knees gave out just as I set the lance down on the piece of furniture, sending me back to the floor. The desk released a nasty squeal of protest, but remained intact.
Whew… Everything's ready!
Carefully raising my arm, I felt around for the weapon's grip. Finding it—as well as the trigger meant to ignite the rocket motors—I prepared to fire.
…Please don't explode in my face…
Bracing myself as best I could, I pulled the trigger.
The weapon was silent for a moment, leading me to believe at first that it was broken. But then, smoke began to trickle out. The four nozzles slid out, extending and angling themselves away from the weapon's grip. Each began to glow a fiery orange.
The lance emitted a faint beep.
With a deafening roar that rattled my gut, white-hot flames streamed from the weapon in a raging torrent, passing directly over my head. In the blink of an eye it shot forward, knocking the desk I hid beneath to the floor. I could only gape as it punched through the thicket of metal like it was nothing, emerging out the other side.
The sound of the firing rocket motors gradually faded into the distance as the lance tumbled down towards the Sea of Death. A fitting end to such an insane weapon.
In its destructive wake, a small hole had been bored through the obstruction ahead. Robbed of its structural integrity, the meat grinder fell apart, allowing sunlight to pour in—so much that I had to shield my eyes.
>Sentinel! Sentinel, I found it!<
"Whoa whoa whoa, back it up!" Sentinel exclaimed hotly, staring at me as if I'd grown two heads. "You used a what?!"
"A—a rocket lance…!" I cried back, pointing at the newly-created passage ahead. "You know! A lance… b—but with rockets attached to it…"
"What kind of halfwit crackpot scientist invents something so dumb?" the AI grumbled.
"You can't argue against its effectiveness!" I huffed, folding my arms in a pout. "I want one…"
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We're getting out of this deathtrap." The AGRA-NX lumbered forward, taking the lead. The tiny aerial drones had already returned to their berths inside the Type-14's chassis, which waited silently behind me. It was to take up the rear, leaving me sandwiched in the middle.
The AI deftly nodded, looking me over. "Whenever you're ready… Tower Administrator."
I nodded shakily, pulling my hood up so that she couldn't see the scarlet flush across my cheeks. I couldn't help it—not after what I had done. I felt only guilt for invading her privacy. "I—I'm ready…"
"Then let's go." The enormous machine up ahead vanished into the sunlight. I brought an arm up, shielding my eyes from the light I hadn't seen in days. Opening my mouth wide, I gratefully took in a breath of fresh air. Lifting my head, I—
Sky. Endless sky.
A gale-force wind met me head-on, my cloak flaring out in response. But I didn't pay any mind to that. How could I, with a view like this laid out before my eyes?
Sentinel and I stood on a wide ledge that appeared to run around the circumference of the silvaplate. Clad in stark white plating, this windswept place was too harsh to support abundant vegetation. Only a few gnarled cedar trees and patches of gray moss stubbornly clung to life.
The Isles of Aria spread out in every direction, riding on the cloudy Sea. Their rocky silhouettes shone orange in the light of the setting sun, strikingly contrasting with the indigo sky. Smaller clusters of rock drifted back and forth between their larger brethren, guided by the air currents.
I tentatively shuffled to the edge, peering straight down. From up here, the meadow and lake we'd started at looked like a miniscule diorama. The meadow was a welcome mat, the lake a puddle. The sprawling forest was naught but toothpicks. From here, I could make out the twin peaks of Mist's Reach, twenty kilometers away. My heart constricted, brimming with loneliness. In need of reassurance, I touched the necklace at my collarbone. Mitri and Evecia were probably eating dinner right about now… alone.
"I wanna go home…" I whimpered, too silent for Sentinel to overhear.
But I can't.
Determined, I turned my gaze skywards. The tower loomed directly overhead, looming imposingly. The orbiting plates of the ion corridor looked closer than ever.
>Administrator, this way.<
I turned to see the pair of tower guardians, slowly lumbering away. The top of the silvaplate rose in a very gentle incline, rising to the point where it intersected with Asciydria Tower's main shaft. The blackened pillar, which ran almost all the way through the spire, was nearly three kilometers in diameter and would take us all the way to the terminus of Section C.
>W—wait for me!< I scrambled after them, careful to watch my footing on the windswept slope.
Quickly catching up, I took up position between the pair as planned. Another gust of wind scoured the desolate surface, bitterly cold. I grimaced, my eyes like slits. "It's not gonna be like this all the way up, is it?!"
"No!" the AI hollered, shouting over the shrieking wind. "It's only like this because of permanent air currents that circle around this altitude. The ion corridor doesn't work nearly as well as it used to, and malfunctions quite often. That said, the weather should even out when we start our ascent of the main shaft!"
"That's good…" I was relieved that I hadn't overdressed when choosing my attire.
The hike up to the main shaft was stressful and exhausting, the wind snapping at our heels every step of the way. Though at the base of the enormous pillar, the curved top of the silvaplate angled back down. It formed a shallow basin encircling the main shaft, allowing us some respite before starting the climb.
"This is so pretty!" I exclaimed gleefully, rushing ahead. The low-lying area had been totally reclaimed by nature. A narrow stream—or lake?—ran through the manmade valley, vanishing off in the distance where it curved behind the gargantuan shaft. Numerous spruce and fir trees sheltered the lush area, protecting the wildlife that lived here. Giggling, I pushed my way through a copse of ferns, listening to the cries of panicked birds disturbed by my playful romp. With Cuddles held tightly in my arms, I could almost imagine that Mitri was here at my side.
>Administrator? We're here to work, not play,< the AI grumbled. I heard branches snap in twain, dry leaves crushed underfoot. Her tower guardians plodded along in perfect sync, treading alongside the midnight-black wall.
Huffing with annoyance, I hurried after them. I wanted to explore a little… I know I have important stuff to do, but I can have a little fun doing it, right?
Catching up yet again, I peered over at the stubborn AI. "Um… Sentinel, what are we looking for, anyway? Since it's getting dark, shouldn't we stop for the night?"
"We still have an hour or two of light remaining," the AI replied dryly, pointing at the sun which had only just kissed the cloud tops. "That's valuable time we can use. As for what we're looking for," her face suddenly brightened, "we're looking for that."
Buried in the foliage lay the beginning of a stairway, partially recessed into the side of the tower wall. More than wide enough for the AGRA-NX, I couldn't help but feel ill upon realizing that it had no railings. Up close to the cylindrical surface of the main shaft, I could see how its blackened surface had been encrusted with vines and patches of lichen.
"This is how we get up…" I hazarded a guess.
"Indeed."
"How high does it go?"
Sentinel's eyes smiled. "Fifteen kilometers straight up. All the way to the ion corridor!"
"That's… a lot of stairs…" I uttered weakly, already sensing that I was in for a world of hurt.
"Believe me, you don't wanna know the exact number of steps," she laughed, turning away.
"…Actually, that sounds kinda neat!"
"Suit yourself. It's—" The AI's face soured. "…Never mind. I can't remember it anymore." She clenched her tiny fists. "Dammit, I liked that one…"
"Oh…"
She tossed her head to the side, the hem of her navy blue robe fanning out. "No matter! You can count them yourself if you'd like. We begin our ascent immediately."
"I'll pass," I groused, making my way over to where the first of the steps lay. Hunching over, I experimentally tapped it with a fingernail. Whatever the exterior was made of, it wasn't stone or metal. Much like the inner dividing wall, ornate carvings sprawled across its surface. I couldn't help but wonder how long it took to chisel such things across the entirety of Asciydria.
The AGRA-NX took the first step, easily clambering up. Luckily for the AI, the stairway looked like it had been designed with giants in mind. Each individual step was large enough to pitch a tent.
I mean… I guess that kinda makes sense. This is one of the ways to move tower guardians around, right?
"Soooo…" I posed, staring up in trepidation. "How's all this gonna work?"
The AI pointed straight up with a stubby finger. "Stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. There are many waystations built all along this path—pretty sizeable platforms intended to help Asciydria's engineers rest up between maintenance shifts on the outer dividing wall. We can camp at those as we ascend."
I squinted at her suspiciously. There's no way it's that simple…
"Unfortunately—" the AI began.
Aaaaand there it is.
"—sections of the stairway have almost certainly collapsed," she continued, frowning. "That means that we'll have to traverse through the tower's interior again—perhaps even multiple times."
"Oh noooo…" I groaned in dismay, slumping against a tree trunk.
"Indeed. Hopefully we won't have to enter the tower too often, though. As you've seen, it's a bit of a deathtrap in there."
"No kidding…" I wearily pushed myself back upright.
Sentinel smiled hopefully. "We'll be fine, administrator. Really. We're ready to begin at your word."
I lifted my chin, staring up the vertical wall. Clouds circled around the upper reaches of the pillar, cloaking the bulbous superstructure that made up Section B in a layer of white mist.
This really goes all the way up to outer space…
I stretched my arms, flexing my fingers. I knew that the journey would be long and hard, and that I might even get hurt a little along the way. But despite that, I was ready for it all.
Clasping Mitri's necklace, I reaffirmed my promise to her.
I'll protect you all.
I hopped up onto the first step, the first of millions to come. And so, our vertical ascent of Asciydria Tower officially began.
We pushed deeper into Asciydria, deeper than I'd ever been. Past the makeshift med bay where I'd awoken, where the hallway began to crumble and deteriorate.
The decay grew more and more prevalent the further we progressed. Overhead lighting fixtures flickered and faded, some every so often flaring up to release a shower of sparks. Pockmarked walls that were covered in splotches of rust broke open, revealing thousands of complex lines of cables and piping that must have run throughout the spire. Many of the pipes had burst, tearing free from their mounts and now strewn across the corridor. Coupled with the fact that the high ceiling had even collapsed in places, it made progressing extremely difficult—for me, at least. Sentinel's pair of machines effortlessly plowed through any and all obstacles, and I found myself falling in line with them.
The air grew heavy and stale, and my nostrils contracted involuntarily. The darkness drew closer and closer like a hungry predator, forcing me to fish a flashlight out of my pack. The weak beam barely made a dent in the oppressive shadows. Every so often I'd jump in fear as eerie echoes emerged from the void—metallic screeches, the bubbling of liquid, the dripping of a leaky water pipe… and a distant and repeated thump sound that made my skin crawl.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"I—I wanna go home…" I sniffed, wiping tears from my eyes.
"…You can't. You know that."
For a time we traveled like that, no words exchanged between us. The AI's holographic form simply stared straight ahead, hard lines etched into her face. I coughed awkwardly, shivering in the musty air. It seemed to grow colder with each footstep. My boots left clear footprints in the thick layer of dust that had settled across every surface.
I estimated that we'd walked a couple kilometers when Sentinel's tower guardians came to a sudden halt. "We're here…" the AI breathed, face lighting up.
"We… what…?" I peered into the darkness, brushing the bangs from my eyes.
The architecture changed up ahead. The corridor came to an abrupt end, opening up into a gigantic circular room. The circumference of the chamber hosted identical corridors like the one we'd just left, each one branching off into the pervasive darkness. Spaced between the hallways lay innumerable double doors that looked like they hadn't been opened in centuries. Casting my gaze up, I spotted multiple levels higher up. They were supported by pillars that ran all the way around the circular room; though the stairs seemed to have collapsed, cutting off access. The vaulted ceiling was hidden in the shadows.
The center of the gallery was adored by an enormous redwood tree on an island in a shallow pool of water. The centerpiece must have been beautiful and vibrant when the tower was in its prime. Now, it was simply a dessicated tree trunk in an empty basin, surrounded by heaps of fallen dead branches. Chairs and yellowed sheets of paper were strewn everywhere, as if the place had been abandoned in a hurry.
"What is this place?" I questioned with awe, hearing my voice echo into the void. I panned my flashlight beam around, getting a gauge of the gargantuan scale of the room. The gallery was massive enough to contain the entirety of Serafi's house—with plenty of room to spare. It was then that I noticed the control panels next to each set of double doors. A few of them still hosted illuminated buttons that flickered weakly.
The AGRA-NX stomped past, powerful floodlights mounted on its shoulders coming to life with a heavy clunk. The hulking machine slowly approached one of the portals recessed into the curved wall. One of many, its doors were dented and bent open slightly in the middle. A flickering light fixture lay above it, beckoning us. Yet through the gap in the doors, only darkness awaited.
"This is the C-44 lift hub," the AI replied, staring at the set of doors with consternation. "It's the main junction on this level of the silvaplate, right at the center where all the passages on this floor join up. Here, we have access to the main shaft."
"Main shaft…" I whispered, running my fingers along a wall. A slight frown crossed my face; a new and unfamiliar sensation brushed against the far reaches of my mind.
"The main shaft is, fittingly, a cluster of elevator shafts that run all the way through Asciydria," Sentinel continued. Her tower guardian snorted loudly, suddenly impacting the doors with a deafening crack that made me flinch. Its bladed shoulders swayed from side to side while it effortlessly ripped the steel plating to shreds. "It runs from the tower anchor—down below the Sea of Death—all the way up to the base of the power regulator module in Section A. The power regulator module, in turn, lies directly beneath the Apex—our goal."
"Mmh…" My eyes narrowed as I brought my focus to bear on the foreign sensation, drawing it closer to the nexus of my consciousness.
No way…
A sudden flash of comprehension. With a gasp, I opened my eyes wide. Stunned by my revelation, I planted my hands against the pitted surface for support.
I could feel power lines buried in the walls. It wasn't that I could see them with the naked eye; I just somehow knew innately that they were there, to the point where it felt like I could reach out, grab hold of a particular filament, and know exactly how much energy it held and where said energy was being diverted to. When closing my eyes, I could clearly picture them in my mind—tens of thousands of shining, glittering threads. The cables hummed melodically, funneling a steady stream of symphonic power upwards.
It was undeniable. My connection to the tower… really is strengthening, huh?
"Hey!" Sentinel cried, yanking me out of my trance. I spun around, realizing that the double doors that had once blocked the elevator shaft no longer existed. Her tower guardian had done its job well, reducing the heavy steel doors to a twisted mess of scrap metal on the floor. "Administrator, you coming or what? We've gotta start heading up!"
"Sorry…" I hurried over, giving a sidelong glance down the passage we had come from. I thought about what was at the far end of that corridor, my heart aching with longing.
Mitri…
Sentinel reached out with a tiny shimmering hand, pressing a glowing button that featured prominently on the control panel next to the gaping doorway. A distant squeal of overstressed metal rippled down the shaft, followed by a shower of dust and sparks that cascaded past the opening.
"Wait, an eleva—"
BANG!
I leapt into the air, terrified by the unexpected sound. Something came into view within the shaft—an elevator, descending on a pillar of sparks with a grating metallic screech. It impacted hard, releasing a deafening boom that echoed throughout the vault-like chamber. It sounded uncannily like a gunshot.
When the dust settled, I found myself peering into a decrepit freight elevator. The walls had almost rotted away under the encroaching rust, and the grooved floor was pitted and filled with dents. To my eyes, it seemed like it would never lift anything again. Yet I could sense the energy flowing within filaments that ran throughout its frame. Somehow, the long-abused lift was still operable.
I shook my head dazedly, not fully understanding my newfound sixth sense. This is so… weird.
Sentinel's tower guardians shuffled into the elevator, the two of them barely able to squeeze in side-by-side. The AI's holographic form followed them in, turning to peer at me with a raised eyebrow. "Well? We're going up."
I stayed back, a little bit perplexed. "An elevator? But… but I thought you said that the climb could take weeks or months?"
"Oh, it will," she muttered, maneuvering her drones around to form a pocket of space where I could fit. "Depending on the severity of the tower's decay, the journey could very well take longer than my original estimate."
"But…?" I gestured at the elevator, shrugging helplessly.
Sentinel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's not gonna take us all the way up, dummy! It probably won't even clear the highest floor of the silvaplate. The main shaft is ancient, and large sections of it are blocked off by rubble. But if we can just get near the top of the silvaplate, then we can find our way to the spire's exterior. Once we're out, we can follow one of the maintenance stairways that spirals right up the tower wall, all the way up to the ion corridor. Beyond that, Section C ends and Section B begins."
I nodded, gingerly squeezing into the lift. Turning my gaze downwards, I stared at the void visible through the grating at my feet and shivered. "Um… Sentinel, are you sure this is safe?"
She grinned wickedly, pressing a button on the wall marked with an upwards-facing arrow. "Nope. Goooooing up!"
A harsh clanking sound rippling through the enclosed space as the elevator lurched upwards, knocking me off my feet. The lift shook violently from side to side, grinding along the rails which hadn't seen use in hundreds of years. Praying to whatever gods were out there, I tightly grasped a railing that ran the perimeter of the elevator car.
"Um… how hi—"
"About a kilometer up," the AI interrupted quickly, answering my question before I had even finished stating it.
"Oh…" I cast my gaze down, staring at the laces of my boots. "Sentinel…"
She cast a sidelong glance at me. "Yes, administrator?"
I nervously took a breath. "Why do you dislike humans so much…?"
Sentinel glared at me, her AGRA-NX huffing in perfect sync. "If you'd been through what I've been through… if you knew what I knew… you would hate them with every fiber of your being. You wouldn't even be able to look at your precious Metria."
"Her name's Mitri…" I muttered weakly, correcting the AI.
She sighed, throwing up her arms. "Whatever. Point is, they've done things—horrible things. For seven centuries, I've watched them, I've seen what they're capable of. Humans native to Asciydria, or humans from elsewhere… It doesn't matter where they come from. There's no good in them. There never was."
"Was it… because of what Sol Ciel did with Seven Bloodstains?"
The AI snorted. "No. I wasn't even self-aware at that point, so it doesn't affect me on a personal level. And even when Sol Ciel came for me two years later, I met their actions with logic, not hatred. I understand why those humans tried to erase me, why they had to completely gut the tower in the process of hunting me down. I accept it, because I know that I would've done the same thing were I in their position."
Her face hardened. "…No. I hate them because of how easily they betrayed me. How we formed an alliance, a mutual compact that I sacrificed so much for… only for them to stab me in the back the second they got what they needed. I hate them because of how willing they were to commit genoci—" She trailed off.
"Genocide…?"
"Ah…" The AI shook her head rapidly. "I… got a little too into it, sorry. I don't exactly like to remember this kind of stuff." Lifting her chin, she gave me a sad smile. "It's just… funny, I suppose. I've had a lot of memories get erased over the centuries, and the bad ones tend to stick around a lot more than the good ones… You know what, forget it."
"Right…" I murmured, averting my eyes.
"Point is," she finished grimly, "I gave the humans plenty of chances. They blew it. So I have no pity nor mercy for any of them anymore. The same goes for the Reyvateils; the difference there is that there's none of them left for me to hate."
And then I felt it, in the shaft above us. A breach in the wall, where the rails were cut. My eyes widened with fear. If the elevator gets derailed, we'll…!
I lunged for the control panel, hitting the 'emergency stop' button with an open palm. The interior compartment was suddenly bathed in blood-red light. With a horrible metallic grinding sound, the elevator came to an abrupt halt.
"With all due respect administrator, what the fuck?" Sentinel screeched angrily, rushing over.
I dazedly pointed upwards, unsure of what exactly had just happened. "The track up there… it's…"
"What?" she said sharply, following my index finger. Then she paused, frozen in midair. The AI gained a thoughtful look. "I wonder… oh, and watch your head," she added as an afterthought.
The horned tower guardian grunted, then suddenly rose to its full, terrifying height. Its wickedly-sharp tusk tore through the ceiling like paper. I stumbled back, shielding my head from the sudden rain of dust and broken ceiling tiles.
"Good call, administrator…" Sentinel breathed.
I cautiously opened my eyes, arms falling back to my sides. Curiously bringing up my flashlight, I aimed the beam through the newly-made hole in the ceiling.
My sixth sense had been right. My beam of light panned across a twisted and mangled elevator track that abruptly cut off. I craned my neck, but I couldn't manage to spot where the track continued. It was as if every rail above this altitude had been ripped clean out of the wall.
"Really nice," the AI remarked warmly, drifting up through the gap to get a closer look. "It looks like this entire section of track broke off when its anchoring points gave way. If the elevator had dislodged from the rails here…" she pointed straight down, leaving the sentence hanging in the still air.
"We would've fallen all the way to the bottom of the shaft," I said weakly, struggling to calm myself down now that the scare was over.
"Indeed we would've." She descended, re-entering the elevator compartment. "How'd you know that the track was damaged, anyway?"
I shrugged helplessly, adjusting my necklace. "I just kinda… knew, I guess?"
Sentinel's eyebrows rose with genuine surprise. "…I see." She turned away quickly… though I could've sworn that the AI had traces of a smile on her tiny lips.
I kicked at the dusty floor. We weren't going anywhere. "Sooooo… what now?"
The AI pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Just wait. Let me think…" Her face brightened. "Ah! I've got it. Hold on just a sec."
With a high-pitched whirr of servos, our cargo transporter rose to its full height. Aiming its skeletal head upwards into the shaft, the machine released a deafening screech. My ears rang with the force of the sudden outcry. Its call echoed up into the shaft, repeating over and over as it grew fainter in the distance.
"Why…" I coughed feebly, removing my hands from my ears.
"It's just echolocation," Sentinel shot back, rolling her eyes. "I sent out a pulse to see how high the shaft goes before it stops." Her eye twitched. "Ah… approximately seven hundred meters up, there's a blockage. Somewhere between here and there, there should be a set of doors that lead into one of the upper laboratories of the silvaplate." She gained a thoughtful look. "Maybe… about five hundred meters up?"
"So…" I asked suspiciously, not liking where this was going. "How do we get from here to there, then…?"
The AI grinned maliciously, one of her machines aiming a spotlight at a series of rungs that ran up the side of the shaft into the darkness above.
I slumped against the wall, suddenly drained. "Please noooo…"
"Believe me, I don't want this any more than you do," she grumbled, folding her arms. "I've gotten a handle on my flight capabilities again, so I could get up there via jump jets or simply fly my drones up. But…" the AI shrugged helplessly.
"But…?" I pressed.
She hung her head, shame evident in her feeble voice. "…Access denied. I lack the clearance necessary to enter those laboratories. It was an area that only specific human and Reyvateil personnel could enter, due to the presence of highly-classified research."
"And I'm supposed to help how…?"
"You're the Tower Administrator!" she threw up her arms in exasperation. "I could count the number of places you can't enter on one hand. All you've gotta do is climb up there, disable that floor's security protocols, and then I can follow you up."
"You make it sound really simple…" I grumbled, peering up the ladder that vanished into the dark.
"That's because it is. When you've reached the sealed set of doors, there should be an access terminal recessed somewhere into the wall. Once you've logged in with your administrator credentials, it should be pretty easy to kill the systems. Then, I can cut through the door and bring up the rest of our party." She thumbed at the two quadrupedal drones, who stood motionless in the elevator car.
"Fine…" I caved, slumping against the wall. "I'll do it…"
"No need to be so nervous," the AI said encouragingly. "There's a rail that runs alongside the ladder; you can tether yourself to it. And I'll send my drones up with you to provide light." Accompanying her words, circular hatches on the Type-14's lower back opened with a dull clunk. The sound was immediately followed by the muted hum of engines firing up.
Two small tower guardians—identical to the ones that had come for me during that terrifying first night in the forest—rose from the cargo carrier's launch tubes. Their sleek flanks warmed with the glow of running lights. Powerful spotlights affixed to the machines' domed summits came to life, bathing the shaft above in twin pillars of light.
My eyes were drawn to the rustling of fabric. Lowering my gaze from the drones that hung in the air, I caught site of Sentinel. She grunted, straining against a fastener that held closed one of the bags lined along the Type-14's flanks. The buckle was almost as big as her.
I gently nudged her aside, exposing the bag's contents. Reaching in, I extracted a bundle of rope. "Is this the thing you were looking for, Sentinel?"
"Yeah," she grumbled, dusting off her robe. It was an odd gesture for an AI—let alone one with a holographic avatar—to make. "If you tie it around your waist, you can fasten the other end to the guide rail."
"Okay…" Swallowing hard, I tightly fastened the rope around my hips, triple-checking the knot to be sure that it held. Chrisphar, wherever you are, in whatever reality comes after this one… thank you for taking me fishing that one time. If nothing else, it taught me how to tie knots correctly.
I nodded subtly, as comfortable with my handiwork as I would ever be. "I'm ready… I think."
The AI smiled, taking command of her largest drone. "Glad to hear it." The hulking machine released a snort, sitting on its haunches and raising its head up through the gaping hole in the ceiling.
I gingerly made my way up the AGRA-NX's spine, eyes fixated on the dark shaft overhead. A shiver traveled down my spine. I couldn't help but notice how the rungs looked like they faded into nothingness.
Then I was reassured by a pair of mechanical chirps, a metallic shape lightly pressing into my back. I knew that Sentinel was there for me.
Clambering over the tangle of machinery affixed to the top of the elevator car, I made my way over to the access ladder. Deftly tethering myself to the guide rail, I thought back to how high I needed to climb.
Sentinel said about… five hundred meters. Half a kilometer of ladder… I held up my slender arms, inspecting the muscles—or lack thereof. An explosive and resigned sigh burst from my throat. This isn't gonna be fun…
I gasped for breath, taking a brief respite. Sweat dripped from my body. My arms were wrapped tightly around a rung, and I allowed the guide rail to support some of my weight. We had been ascending for almost an hour; the climb was equal parts mind-numbing and exhausting. The AI's drones waited patiently, drifting in tandem in the empty space.
I glared at the airborne machines, wheezing. "Ca—can't they just… carry me up? P—please…"
A sarcastic laugh emitted from one of the tower guardians. "You wish. Administrator, you may be light—but you're not that light. Keep in mind that it took four of these puppies to lift you last time."
"But… but I was… I was bi—bigger back then…"
"…Still." I could almost picture Sentinel rolling her eyes dismissively.
Breath successfully caught, I resumed my slow climb to infinity. "Sentinel…" I huffed, methodically putting one hand over the other. My boots clanged on the metal rungs. "Wh—why is the tower… in such terr—terrible shape? Everything's… ruined! I tho—thought that it was your job to take care of it…!"
One of the drones bobbed in the air in an approximation of a shrug, accompanied by a mechanical chirp in a non-committal tone. "I'm not as mighty as you think, administrator. Like I said in the plasma bell, I can't manufacture components for large-scale repairs anymore. And as previously established, I don't actually have very high security clearance." She sighed. "There's a loooot of places where I can't go without authorization from a human operator. The fact that we're in the silvaplate doesn't help matters much, either."
"Why… why's that?" I carefully untied myself from the guide rail, sliding the rope over a strut that fastened the thin railing to the side of the shaft. Working quickly, I re-tethered myself.
"It's because of the Isles of Aria," my companion replied. "While each and every one of them is held aloft thanks to the plasma bell's resonance field, they still drift in the air currents. Unfortunately, that means that the islands graze along the tower wall a lot. And when you've got a metal wall getting rammed by an entire fucking landmass… well, you get the picture. Long story short, it's really done a number on the silvaplate over the centuries."
"S—so that door," I panted, wiping the sweat from my brow. "The one that… that led out into the pretty meadow…"
"It's an island wedged into the outer hull of the silvaplate, yes." Apprehension entered the AI's voice. "And, for what it's worth… a huge contributing factor to Asciydria's current state is the fact that I can't produce new tower guardians anymore."
"R—right…" I huffed again, already exhausted and in need of another breather. "Why's that, anyway?" I recalled that she had briefly mentioned it inside the plasma bell, but without the details behind it.
"Because my tower guardian construction facilities were destroyed in a large-scale battle three-hundred and fifty years ago." I could hear the anguish in her voice. It was clear that it was something that still greatly troubled her. "The facilities, located at the base of the silvaplate, were almost completely obliterated."
A tone of frustration entered her voice. "Sure, I could've fixed it right back up after… if it weren't for the fact that the severe damage made sections of the main shaft collapse, flattening the location where the facilities once were. Removing all the rubble would have almost certainly compromised what little structural integrity the main shaft had left… In fact, doing so potentially could have made the entire spire give way!"
"That's awful…" I coughed, pausing for a moment to take a sip of water from a canteen on my belt.
"Sure was," she spat bitterly. "I even had to weld the rubble in place to keep everything intact and stable—the complete opposite of what I wanted to do."
"I get it…" I turned my gaze upward, thoroughly tired of the unchanging scenery of the elevator shaft. "H—how much longer…?"
"Good question. Let's find out." One of the machines trained its spotlight upwards, the beam implacably cutting through the densest of shadows. "Almost there!" she announced triumphantly. "Only about twenty meters left."
Gritting my teeth, I gave it one final push. Legs like pistons, I surged up the ladder. Above me, the shape of a set of double doors resolved from the gloom. I came up alongside it, gulping air.
"Top floor," Sentinel announced dryly. "Sporting goods, housewares, and creepy science experiments!" Her drones circled about, which gave me the amusing mental image of the AI pacing back and forth. "Okay, we made it. Now… access terminal, access terminal…"
I closed my eyes, pressing a palm against the wall.
"It's… right here." feeling my way along the bulkhead, my fingernails locked around the edges of some kind of panel on the wall. After scraping at it for a moment, it popped open, revealing a small keypad and display screen. At a mere touch, the terminal came to life.
Silvaplate Level A-14. Please enter registration ID or hymn code.
Something immediately came to my mind, dredged up from the shattered fragments of my oldest memories from before I'd awoken. I tapped away at the keypad, my fingers working on autopilot.
SYLPHIRA_ANSUL_ASCIYDRIA
How did I know that…? I wondered, idly waiting for something to happen. The terminal chimed suddenly, lighting up green.
Hymn code confirmed. Handshake connection with SH server established. Welcome, Tower Administrator Sylphira.
"Cool…" I breathed, exploring the multitude of options that had become available to me. The user interface was surprisingly intuitive… though it felt like I had done this before. More residual memories.
WARNING: This selection will disable Silvaplate Level A-14's security systems. Firewalls will be deactivated, and unauthorized personnel will not be denied entry! Selection not advised. Confirm Y/N?
Satisfied, I initiated the command. The terminal went dark, and I felt something imperceptibly shift within the walls. Somehow I knew with complete certainty that the security systems had gone offline. Of course, I had just done so with my own hands at the access terminal… but I could also feel it via my sixth sense.
"Did it work…?" I questioned tentatively, peering at the pair of tower guardians.
The AI exhaled with relief. "Yes! I can feel it. Now I can access the doors without my programming interfering. It's just a simple matter of getting inside, now. That's my department."
The pair of machines approached the double doors, coming in slow. "Administrator, you might want to keep your head down," she cautioned. Despite that, my own curiosity compelled me to watch.
The tower guardians drifted past, stopping before the inner doors. Hatches on their streamlined fuselages popped open, segmented arms emerging. Each machine sported three of the mechanized limbs. Two of them were squat but powerful, reinforced with compressing shock absorbers and bundles of cable. Both limbs ended in an odd metal panel. The third and final arm, long and spindly, was tipped with some kind of nozzle.
In perfect sync, Sentinel's drones pressed against the vertical steel surface, latching on with the two sturdy arms. I realized that the panels were electromagnets, designed to allow the machine to lock onto metallic surfaces.
"Really, administrator?" Sentinel huffed. "If you insist on watching me work, you should at least close your eyes or look away when I start cutting. Do you wanna go blind or something?"
"I just wanted to watch…" I muttered feebly, averting my eyes somewhat.
The tower guardians' third arms kissed the surface, their nozzles making contact with metal. With a whoosh, twin flames ignited, the pair of cutting torches making short work of the elevator doors. I shut my eyes tightly, turning away as a shower of sparks tumbled down the open shaft.
"Watch yourself!" she cried.
With a twisted screech, the doors fell free. Panicked, I pressed my body against the rungs, making myself as small as possible. The red-hot slabs fell past me, vanishing into the abyss. A cacophony burst up from the darkness below as they were battered to pieces against the walls of the shaft.
I turned my gaze back to the doorway, which now gaped wide open. The tower guardians hung in the air, their aerodynamic bodies silhouetted by the glow of superheated metal behind them. It looked like the AI was admiring her own handiwork with pride.
"Climb on up, administrator!" she called. "Oh, and mind the hot edges. I'm told that third-degree burns aren't fun."
"Yay…" I groused, carefully removing my tether. Gingerly lifting myself over the molten edges of the doorway, I clambered up onto the new level.
Nothing but shadows met my gaze. Level A-14 was shrouded in darkness. Sentinel's spotlights barely even penetrated the gloom. Shuffling across the floor, I plastered myself against a bulkhead that was partially illuminated by the AI's cutting job. It was as far away from the malevolent shadows as possible.
My companion laughed softly, her holographic form emerging from one of the machines. "Still scared of the dark, huh?"
"M—maybe…" I stammered. I extracted my teddy bear from my pack, pressing him tightly against my chest. Even here, in this dark and scary place, I still had a small part of my big sister Mitri to keep me safe.
A glint of rainbow light from my necklace drew my gaze. I grazed it with a fingertip, smiling faintly. Yeah… they're still here with me, in their own special way.
A look of pity crossed the AI's face. "Well, just sit tight. Catch your breath for a minute! I'm bringing up the Type-14 now, so hold onto your butt."
A distant explosion echoed up the shaft as the gigantic machine rocketed upwards, blue flames blasting out through vents on its belly and legs. With a huge metallic crunch, the tower guardian shot through the doorway and impacted, hard. It shattered floor tiles on impact, spraying debris in every direction. The decaying floor groaned with distress under the machine's not-insignificant weight.
"Whoa…" I breathed, wide-eyed.
The cargo-carrying tower guardian, having already recovered from its short flight, padded deeper into the shadows. With a heavy clunk, floodlights across its body snapped to life. The Type-14's lighting arrays made those of the AGRA-NX look like a mere candle. The chamber was suddenly bathed in a brilliant light, so blinding that I had to shield my eyes.
"Guh…" I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the new brightness levels. The chamber and all of the details it held rapidly came into clarity.
As Sentinel had said, it seemed to be a laboratory of some kind. Though with the widespread devastation, it was hard to tell. It looked like the entirely of Seven Bloodstains had taken place in this singular room.
The chamber—like everything else in this derelict of a tower—was enormous, its farthest reaches hidden in the shadows. They were beyond the not-insignificant circle of light that the Type-14's lighting arrays projected. Great swaths of the laboratory were buried beneath piles of rubble from the level above. Shattered pipes protruded like daggers from great fissures in the ceiling, and twisted steel girders rose up through the black tiles that made up the floor. With the manmade stalactites, widespread decay, and darkness, the abandoned lab almost felt like some kind of cavern. It even had a low and oppressive ceiling to boot, as well as the ever-present sound of dripping water that echoed through the void.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
What little floor space that wasn't buried under rubble was occupied by hundreds upon hundreds of cubicles, workbenches, and large appliances that looked like figures hunched over in the dark. Low dividers sectioned off the different segments of the laboratory complex. I took a half-step forward and my boot grazed against some kind of discarded power tool. The object had decayed almost to the point of unrecognizability. Dozens just like it were scattered across the chamber, along with millions of rotting sheets of paper. A thick layer of dust covered everything like a blanket.
No one had been here in hundreds of years. This entire floor was dead, devoid of life. Yet even here, amidst the dust and decay, I could still feel a steady stream of symphonic power flowing upwards.
A blue light grew in the corner of my eye, my AI companion drawing to my side. She sniffed disapprovingly, evidently dissatisfied with the spire's severe degradation. "We are now in the upper research labs of the silvaplate. These workspaces take up the entirety of this level, as well as several more above it."
"That… that's a lot of ground to cover…" I uttered weakly, lacking the drive to explore after my tiring ordeal in the elevator shaft. Every muscle in my body ached.
Sentinel nodded. "Indeed. That said, there should be several access hatches spaced around the circumference of this floor. Meant for maintenance workers, they allow one to pass through the spire's inner and outer dividing walls. Any one of those will lead to the exterior of the tower—our current destination. We need to find one."
"Mmh…"
"But first," she added with a sly grin, "let's bring up the big guy. Brace for impact!"
"Wait, wha—"
A deafening boom erupted from the open shaft at my back, followed by the grating screech of metal on metal. I could sense the freight elevator's circuitry going dark, atomized by the ignition of the AGRA-NX's jump jets.
The tower guardian came screaming up the shaft, rising on a pillar of sparks as it scraped against the walls. I leapt back in the nick of time; it plowed through the open doorway, taking out chunks of wall and ceiling on the way in. It landed hard, releasing a shockwave that knocked me onto my backside. A wide circle of floor tiles around the impact site was pulverized into dust, and I felt structural braces beneath the surface buckle and snap. Miraculously the floor somehow held, leaving the machine standing in a smoking crater while the dust settled.
The sudden blow to the spire's internal structure seemed to cause a small reaction in my own body, mirroring what had happened during the plasma bell disaster. I winced, gingerly rubbing my belly. I had felt a small twinge of pain—no more than a pinprick—materialize suddenly inside my abdomen, vanishing as quickly as it had come.
The AI sighed with relief, casting me an apologetic glance in acknowledgement of the pain I had felt. "…Whew. For a second there, I was pretty sure that the floor would give way."
"M—me too…" I uttered feebly, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I shuffled through the darkness, kicking a canister along the floor. The metal cylinder skittered through the corridor, kicking up trails of dust. Grumbling with annoyance, I noted the presence of a deep gouge in the bulkhead up ahead. It was a marking left by Sentinel's tower guardian, meant to show that she had already covered this area.
Sighing with resignation, I turned my focus inward. >Um, Sentinel… where are you now?<
Her reply was prompt. >Administrator.< The AI sounded every bit as frustrated as I was. >I've moved up to Level A-16 now, but it's still not looking good. Most of this floor has collapsed and I can't get anywhere near the inner dividing wall, let alone the outer one. How about you?<
I brought the beam of my flashlight to bear on the marking that her AGRA-NX had left behind. >I'm still on A-14… I think I ran across an area you've checked already, though.< I briefly summarized my surroundings, the labyrinth of corridors and smaller chambers that I now found myself in.
>Ah… right, that place. Yeah, I cleared that yesterday. It was promising at first—it's rather close to the inner wall—but I couldn't find a way through. Careful in there, it's a maze.<
>I noticed…< My gaze turned back to the corridor ahead, sliding across the lines of doors spaced along the walls. Each one led into a private lab, workshop, meeting room, or some other place of industry. Though the architecture was unchanging within the silvaplate, some of the contents of said architecture would sometimes draw my curiosity—and occasionally result in a quick question relayed to my AI companion.
It had been forty-eight hours since the two of us had emerged from the empty shaft, commencing our expedition into the derelict ruins of what had once been a thriving workplace in the tower. At first I had stuck to Sentinel like glue, tearfully refusing to let go of the Type-14's leg in lieu of the oppressive darkness just beyond the ring of light. But after a day of wandering, a day of unchanging scenery, a day of walking through the same halls and the same rooms and clambering over the same piles of rubble, I was willing to entertain Sentinel's plan—to split up, enabling us to cover more ground. The interior of the silvaplate was vast, and couldn't be mapped out alone. And due to the nature of the reinforced and sound-deadening bulkheads found in the top-secret lab, the AI's method of using echolocation to capture the dimensions of an empty space didn't work so well.
The first time we split up, I had chased her down within minutes, tears streaming down my frightened face. I had pleaded with her to stay, to not leave me alone in the dark. Thanks to my first night in the forest and my encounter with the Other, I didn't exactly have a fondness for it. But in spite of that she refused, pushing me away.
"You need to become strong, administrator," she had said. "If I go easy on you, if I grow complacent in your upbringing… then that's not gonna be able to happen. I can't. I'm sorry."
So she left me.
Though, it turned out to not be as bad as I'd previously believed. I adapted quickly to being on my own. I could still communicate with her at any time via our telepathic link, and she would nonetheless come running should there be some kind of emergency. So far she had only needed to come once, during another attack that had left me writhing on the floor. She had helped me back to my feet, gifted a few words of kindness, encouragement, and the usual dose of dry sarcasm, then melted back into the shadows.
I poked my head into one of the side rooms, peering at the misshapen forms in the darkness. Bathed in the glow of my flashlight, they revealed themselves to be nothing more than a line of workbenches and metalworking appliances. From lathes to welders to cutting tools, the chamber was filled with them. The far end of the room was packed with large bins, each filled with various raw materials. Hand tools and blueprints lay scattered across the floor. With everything that had been cast aside, it seemed as if the complex had been evacuated in a hurry.
Mmh… I stepped into the room, glancing around curiously. I knew that I wouldn't find an access hatch here, but I couldn't deny my own interest in the tower's former inhabitants.
My eyes locked on the furthest workbench, drawn by the glint of steel. I approached the table, squinting at the odd silhouette lying across its surface. >Um, Sentinel…<
>Yes, Administrator? Did you find something?<
>Kinda… sorta…? N—not really, I guess. I found some kind of… um, weapons lab, I think.< I gingerly poked the conical object with a finger, having realized that it was a wicked-looking lance. Its length must have been equal to or greater than my own height. >There's a bunch of scary and dangerous stuff in here…<
>Mmh,< she replied, disinterested. >Nothing else?<
I experimentally grasped the handle of the enormous lance, straining to lift it. While doing so, I couldn't help but notice that four rocket thrusters protruded from the weapon's vamplate in a wide plus-shape. >Nggh! I… I was just wondering if this is leftover stuff from Sol Cluster. I mean… this is their tower, right? The military's?<
The AI hesitated. >Weeeell… yes and no. Asciydria was… uh, put under new management when the Sol Cluster military collapsed. It was brought about in the aftermath of Seven Bloodstains.<
I frowned, releasing my grip on the weapon. With its wickedly-sharp tip and rocket thrusters, I couldn't help but shiver at the idea of being impaled on it. >Really…? Who did that?<
>The Aegis Alliance of Ar Ciel did. It was an organization founded with the goal to nurse the planet back to health after the scars it had incurred during Seven Bloodstains.< Her voice filled with disdain. >They were led by El Elemia of Sol Ciel.<
>Wait…!< I gasped, freezing up. >Aren't those the guys wh—<
>Yes, they were,< the AI spat bitterly. >Real nice, right? The nation who inflicted so much damage to the world put themselves in charge of fixing it. Remember when we were in the shaft the other day, and I made a vague remark of how the humans had tried to erase me? That was the Aegis Alliance. Or rather, it was one of the divisions that had split off from the main branch at Sol Ciel—a smaller group called Ayrakii R&D.<
That makes sense… I thought to myself. If the Sol Cluster alliance really collapsed like she said, then they wouldn't have been able to maintain the tower. And that means that Sol Ciel came over to take it by force, to get their technology back. I bet they wouldn't have been happy about Sentinel, either… I thought back to one of my earlier dreams, the one that had culminated in an assault on the Apex by unknown forces and the death of my creator.
I shook my head wryly, recalling what the invading forces had said. They even called themselves 'Elemia spec ops' to boot! That's one piece of the puzzle taken care of, I guess.
Giving the rocket-powered lance a lingering touch, I hurried back out into the corridor. >I think that makes sense. My tow—um, this tower was originally built as a military installation… but Ayrakii got their hands on it, and they modified it to launch things into space?<
>More or less,< she replied. >Though I wouldn't exactly say that Ayrakii modified it, per say. Credit where credit is due; the spire was barebones at best when they came for us in 3034, and the workers they brought with them practically rebuilt it from scratch. Right up until the Grathnode Inferia hit six years later, they were still adding components.<
>Mhh…< I continued my shuffle down the hallway, kicking along the same canister. >But… but that doesn't answer my question… What's with all the weapons and stuff?<
Sentinel was silent for a long moment. >…Oh. Well, it was one of many of Ayrakii's side projects. Alongside communications, song amplification, and space launch, they ran a lot of research and development projects.< An undertone of playfulness entered her ethereal voice. >I mean… it is right in the name, after all! Ayrakii Research & Development.<
"Right…" I grumbled aloud, inaudible to the AI.
>But yeah. To finish that point, research and development was their thing. New tower components, new and exciting types of song magic, new tower guardian models… heck, even my AGRA-NX is a descendant of an old Sol Ciel design. If you imagined anything at all, there's probably already a prototype of it buried in the rubble somewhere around here.<
>Okay… thank you for answering.<
>By the way,< she questioned, changing the topic. >Any luck down there yet? I'm pretty certain that this floor is a total wash. I'm gonna head back down to Level A-15 and recheck the perimeter.<
I came to a halt, peering around. I had ended up in a new area, though the inner dividing wall was still nowhere in sight. Sentinel had told me that its inner surface would be covered with ornate carvings, etched into a bronzed metal. Nothing like that was illuminated in the wandering beam of my flashlight. >Um… nope. There's nothing here…<
>Dammit,< she hissed with frustration. >If we can't find a way out, then I'm stumped.<
>How do you get your tower guardians past this normally?< I questioned. >I mean… surely you've needed to move them around before… right?<
Sentinel sighed. >I wish it were that simple. I move my heavy land-based drones—like the AGRA-NX, for example—between Section B and C via specialized lifting rigs designed to carry heavy cargo. They're all stranded up in Section B behind the prome wall, though.<
>Ah…< Nudging the canister to one side, I turned to walk down a new corridor that I hopefully hadn't wandered through already. Please… please be here… The tight corridors and oppressive darkness was wearing me down, slowly but surely.
>Just keep searching,< she muttered, her voice growing distant. >Don't give up. We can't.<
While exploring one of dozens of identical isolated laboratories, I spotted something—a glimmer of rainbow light caught in the beam of my flashlight. Stepping deeper into the chamber, I approached the shimmering objects scattered across the room with interest.
>Sentinel…? I found something in one of the labs…< I kneeled down before a large display case, peering curiously at the bottom shelf. The shelving unit bristled with dozens of multicolored crystalline structures. The room was utterly filled with them.
>If it's not the dividing wall, I don't wanna hear it,< the AI grumbled. Her mood had deteriorated quickly in the last few hours while she dug through the remnants of Level A-15 for the third time.
I gingerly picked one up, holding it under the beam of my flashlight. Its faceted surface shone a warm sky-blue. The crystalline core object anchored within a silvery metal frame. I could feel energy simmering deep within; this was clearly no normal rock. The socket on my forearm tingled suddenly, and I absentmindedly scratched it.
Making my best attempt to describe it, I spoke back to my AI companion. >I found a bunch of gemstones here… at least, I think they're gemstones…?< I shook my head. >Um, there's a lot of them, all in different colors. Some of them are set inside frames, and there's more that are really slender and spiky.<
>Ah,< she said knowingly. >Well, the pointy-looking ones are called grathnode crystals. They're meant to be inserted into a Reyvateil's body via one's install port, to alter the grathnode layer within. Doing so has the potential to change the properties of any song magic one might use.<
>Y—you stick these into your body?!< I gingerly poked the tip of one, feeling its jagged contours. The process seemed horribly painful. I couldn't imagine ever willingly submitting myself to that.
>Indeed,< she confirmed, sounding somewhat irritated that I was pushing the topic. >The ones set in frames are different. Those are special storage mediums known as hymn crystals. Each one contains a data packet that translates into a unique piece of song magic.<
"Song magic…?" I whispered aloud, staring into the hymn crystal's swirling depths with wonder. Despite the fact that I was a Reyvateil Origin—allegedly one of the most powerful singers in the world—I had only used song magic on one occasion, and it had bugged out upon usage. >Could I use these to help me learn song magic?<
>Uh, NO!< she exclaimed, horrified. >Do you want brain damage? Because that's how you get brain damage! Those things are in here for a reason. They're all experimental. We have no idea how those hymn crystals work, or if they even work at all. They could very well be loaded with corrupted code for all you know! It's not safe to use them!<
>Aww…< Excitement fading away to be replaced with bitter disappointment, I slipped the shimmering gem back into the display case. Though just as I turned away to leave, a flash of light caught my eye.
Wait, what's that…?
There was a small safe at the far end of the room, anchored to the wall. Though, the safe wasn't exactly safe anymore. The door of the reinforced box had corroded, hanging loose from its frame at an odd angle. A silvery light shone from within. I felt drawn by the hypnotic glow.
I reached out, nudging aside the rusty door. At my touch, it tumbled out of its frame and hit the tiled floor with a dull clunk. Ignoring the sound, I reverently scooped up the mysterious light source.
It was another hymn crystal, but this one was indescribably beautiful. Kept safe within a carbon-black metal frame, the crystalline object pulsed with a dim white light. Though within its swirling depths, there was something else. Occasionally the white mists within would part for the briefest of moments, revealing an inky black void lurking just below the surface. Tiny arcs of blue-tinged electricity surged back and forth between the stormy clouds, closely resembling lightning. It was practically an entire world inside there.
Pretty… but why is it inside a safe? None of the others are… What makes this one different? Is it dangerous? Valuable, maybe…?
Captivated by the flickering light, I slipped it into a rucksack pocket. A… souvenir, I guess. Shaking my head, I promptly made my way out of the chamber. Even though I'd left the lab behind, I couldn't shake the feeling that the hymn crystal in my pack was important somehow.
—ure, error code 100605.
I gritted my teeth, rubbing my temples vigorously. Wha… what the heck is this?!
Several minutes ago, I had begun to feel something in my head—some kind of internal pressure. At first I had thought that it was just a headache brought about by my current levels of stress and frustration… but then the pressure had amplified. That was when I started suspecting that it was another attack, and I had been ready to plead for Sentinel to come… and that's when I started hearing voices. My own voice, speaking in a dull and mechanical monotone. A hypnotic siren call, drawing me through the darkness—a signal.
Uplink Unit 2-B system failure, error code 100605.
"W—what do you want?!" I cried out, stumbling down the corridor.
Uplink Unit 2-B system failure, error code 100605.
The signal drew me inexorably through the labyrinth of passages, finally converging on a vault-like door that I hadn't seen before. Much like everything else on this level, the steel plating had mostly rotted away. At a touch, the door crumbled off its hinges, revealing—no surprise—yet another lab, its furnishings almost identical to the rest.
What was I supposed to see in here? I wandered into the chamber, staring into the shadows all around me with trepidation. The fact that the pressure in my skull had evaporated the instant I crossed the threshold into the room didn't escape my notice.
Wait… I clicked off my flashlight, peering into the gloom. What's that weird glow?
My suspicions had been correct; a green light flickered dimly up ahead. The source of the signal, maybe?
I shone my flashlight beam on a large rectangular shape that sat at the back of the room. The object appeared to be some kind of containment unit, its exterior covered in panels of dense midnight-black plating. However, the ceramic squares had cracked with age, and some had even come loose. If this was the source of the signal, then it was escaping due to the unit's severely damaged state.
But why me? Is it because I'm closer to the epicenter than Sentinel, or because of who and what I am? It's speaking in my voice, too…
There was a thick glass porthole on one side of the rectangular chamber, and I approached it with nervous consternation. I had no idea what would necessitate such extreme containment measures like this. Radioactive stuff? Weapons? A captured Other…? The last possibility was particularly terrifying, giving me pause.
I hesitantly peered in through the small viewing port, trying in vain to make out the sealed unit's contents.
Wait… what is that thing?
The interior of the containment unit was spotless, sealed as it was for centuries… though it wasn't empty. An odd spherical object lay inert within. I panned my flashlight beam across it, catching a glimpse of glass and metal. What I presumed was a gaping hole on the underside of the strange object—it must have been hollow—radiated a viridian light, spilling across the containment unit's floor.
A moment of realization. Oh…! It's just a helmet of some kind. I get it. Shuffling around the unit's perimeter, I searched for some kind of access point. Finding a small door on the back of the unit, I twisted it open and reached in, extracting the headgear.
I flipped the helmet over in my hands, perplexed. I had never seen anything like it. It would have been incredibly out of place in the rustic village of Mist's Reach, looking like something straight out of science fiction and almost alien.
The helmet was molded from a sturdy yet surprisingly-lightweight metal alloy, polished to a sheen and painted a matte white. Even after centuries, the piece of equipment looked as if it had come off the assembly line only yesterday. The helmet's faceplate, starting just above the mouth, was covered by a transparent glass visor. Though it was strange; I had expected to stare through the glass and see the padded interior of the helmet. Yet beneath the glass lay only gray steel, inlaid with circuitry and wiring. Five gaping holes set into the helmet's 'face' under the visor resembled hollow eye sockets to an uncanny degree. The lower portion of the face was shielded behind a jet-black metal plating that ended in a sort of locking collar where the neck should be. Evidently, there was more to this than just a solitary helmet.
That's really strange, though… It was unclear how exactly the helmet was supposed to work, due to the fact that it had no eyeholes. Both the nose and the mouth were covered, too. A potential wearer would be blind, not to mention suffocating.
Well… those five eye-looking things on the face could be camera lenses… I turned it over in my hands, peering into the armor's interior. A single green light burned from within.
Then I started, quickly setting it back down. My imagination had taken the reins. I wonder what I'd look like if I wore this…? I wouldn't look human, that's for sure. I'd look like a scary robot or something. Like the machine that I really am…
I giggled to myself, shaking the sobering thoughts away. Dummy. Don't take this so seriously! I can always just take it off, after all. I don't even think it's gonna fit anyway; it's way too big for me.
Taking a deep breath, I nervously slipped the oversized helmet on.
It was every bit as claustrophobic as I'd thought, perhaps even moreso. I was utterly blind, deaf, and it was difficult to breathe. My heart fluttered nervously as I settled to the floor, getting used to the weird feeling.
I snorted suddenly, not exactly sure of what I was doing. …Now what?
The helmet gave its answer. The green light—which had emitted from a tiny fixture mounted to an interior surface at the corner of my eye—vanished, replaced with an angry red. It pulsed once, twice, three times. Then it went dark. I waited in the dark for a long moment, frozen, waiting for something else to happen.
Yet nothing did.
I got the vague sense that I had just been denied access. I… guess that's it? That light must be a warning or something… and I guess that explains the error code the signal mentioned. So that means it's broken. And even so, it wouldn't fit in my pack, anyway. Disappointed, I cast the piece of equipment aside, making sure to put it back inside its broken containment unit. Though as I was doing so, I noticed a label plastered to the back of the helmet.
DO NOT REMOVE
Project Label ______________ Amplification Systems Uplink Unit 2-B, Version 0.96 [EXPERIMENTAL]
Serial Number _____________ 820031507436
Manufacturer(s) ___________ Ayrakii Research & Development, Kurogane Labs
Development Lead _________ Lekan Finnr (lead engineer), Eli Meinrad (head foreman)
Manufacturing Date ________ 29/05/3038
Production Status __________ Discontinued
Miscellaneous Notes ________ Prototype hardware discontinued due to successful production of the 1.0 unit. This outdated component will henceforth be utilized to study the structural integrity of airmetal alloys before and after exposure to ultra-high wave frequencies. Please contact Eli Meinrad on Level A-16 for more information. Be prepared to provide component serial number upon request.
Mmh… Losing interest and finding the label irrelevant, I closed the hatch back up, re-affixed some of the unit's exterior shielding, then made my way out of the deserted laboratory. I exhaled with relief, noting that the ache wasn't returning—nor were the voices.
So that helmet was what sent the signal, because of its broken containment unit. Weird detour over, I guess…? Now I can get back on track.
I melted back into the shadows. I still had a job to do.
>Still no luck?< I asked tiredly, just about at my wit's end.
>No,< Sentinel snapped sullenly. >Nothing.<
Minor distractions notwithstanding, I had been searching this floor alone for five uninterrupted hours. Sentinel, with the advantage of having three additional bodies, had already covered two entire floors herself. Yet despite that, neither of us had found a way to access the inner dividing wall.
I sighed, plopping my behind down on a flat outcropping of rubble. While there were hundreds of chairs around, I wasn't exactly eager to test how well their structural integrity had fared over the centuries. Exhausted, I took a sip from my canteen, enjoying the sensation of cool water on my tongue.
This isn't working out so well… I kicked at the tiled floor, feeling like an utter failure. I'm supposed to be the Tower Administrator, and I can't even find my way out of it? Some administrator I am. If only I could see more than just symphonic power lines in the walls…
I froze, drink hovering at my lips. …Wait. Can I?
Taking flight, energized to the crazy idea that had come to mind, I rushed through the twisting and turning corridors, making my way back to the enormous central chamber where the main shaft was located. It ran dead-center through the silvaplate, and so would give me the best possible chance of finding an access hatch… if I was even physically capable of doing so.
It took several long minutes before I made it back to the cluster of elevator shafts. Though I had no problem remembering the correct path to make it back, the travel time wasn't insignificant. Gasping for breath, yet trembling with excitement, I slammed an open palm against the wall.
Okay… let's try this…!
My mind opened up, outer barriers falling into the void. All around me I felt tenuous fibers of flickering energy—the symphonic power lines that ran throughout the silvaplate, drawing energy from the Orgel below for the rest of the spire.
No… My brow creased. No. I don't wanna look through these. I need something else, something broader that covers more… like an overview.
I pushed again, attempting to force my perspective to shift. I turned my inner eye from the power lines, fixing my concentration on a single point of emptiness.
C'mon… c'mon… shift, please! Let me see something else! Shift! Shift. Clear search terms. Default view.
A gasp was torn from my throat as I was suddenly drawn into what I could only describe as an out-of-body experience. I felt isolated, detached from my physical form, staring down at tiny blotches of light buried within the derelict ruins of the silvaplate.
I saw myself at the main shaft—a radiant star surrounded by tiny motes of light. I could even make out a shimmering thread that must have been the connection between my physical body and my actual soul in the SH server… wherever that was. All I could tell was that it led straight up, to a distant point just below the summit of the tower.
But it wasn't just myself that I saw.
A spiderweb of gargantuan scale and complexity took my breath away. The unnamed network dominated the bulk of the tower, spreading across its furthest reaches. I stared up at it in wonder, noting how alike it was to a starry sky—and with the interconnecting ethereal threads, like a starmap.
And then, with a shock, I realized what it was.
Sentinel…
Here in this place—this place between the physical and the digital—I saw Sentinel's true form. The strength of the network making up her body waxed and waned, pulsing like the heartbeat of a living thing. Seeing her like this, it erased any flicker of doubt in my mind that the little AI wasn't truly sapient, subject to thoughts and emotions like any human. She was enormous, magnificent, a testament to the genius of those who had created her seven hundred years ago.
Though there were scars—wear and tear incurred over the long years. The most striking discrepancy was the severe lack of tower guardians required to sustain her consciousness. Several days ago in the plasma bell, Sentinel had told me that her original 'body' had contained fifteen thousand guardians, back when Asciydria Tower was in its prime. But now, there were far fewer.
2006 tower guardians. I tallied them up, far quicker than any human could. No, 2010. And when we were in the plasma bell the other day, Sentinel told me that she had about 2100 left. Which means in such a short amount of time, she's already lost almost a hundred more… probably when she had the hiccup that made her crash the Alto.
Though there was more than that. What she had managed to keep wasn't all there. I could tell, just by focusing on one point in particular. Doing so narrowed my focus, allowing me to view the diagnostics of individual tower guardians.
Oh…
It was alarming how many of the few she had left were immobile, damaged beyond repair or buried in rubble too deep to be excavated—though somehow they'd stubbornly held on, maintaining the AI's network.
And even beyond the hardware, her software had fared no better. Entire memory caches choked with lines upon lines of dysfunctional coding. Systems whose programming had been literally ripped out. Protocols that had been gutted, rewritten, then gutted and rewritten all over again. If the brilliant mind who had designed Sentinel could see her current state, the poor man would have broken down into tears.
But I could see more than that—much more. More than Sentinel's coding, more than the status of individual drones. I pulled back, expanding my viewing range yet maintaining my narrow focus on singular tower guardians. Able to see bursts of coding, light, and radiation filling up the void between machines, blurring together into smears of colors, I realized that what I was seeing was a broad look into her emotions.
Light flitted past my intangible eyes. I saw things here that I never expected to see in her, whom I saw as being so aloof and brimming with confidence.
Pale and gloomy shades of gray, aimlessly drifting back and forth like lost children.
Streaks of violet, flitting rapidly between the AI's nodes in a frantic and disoriented manner.
Washed-out shades of blue that permeated the entirety of her consciousness, so cold and devoid of warmth that I was nearly moved to tears.
I… I had no idea that she was like this…
It was then that my respect of Sentinel began to grow. It was no stretch to say that I didn't exactly like the AI. She was cold, mean, dismissive, and altogether unpleasant to be around—despite the admittedly-rare moments when she'd display a high degree of courage, self-sacrifice, and gentleness. For the first time, I felt like I could truly understand the AI, despite knowing so little about her. We were so much more similar than I'd previously thought.
Both her and I were relics from a long-dead world, out of place in this new and inhospitable parody of Ar Ciel.
N—no. I shook my head rapidly, drawing back from the AI's network. I… I shouldn't have seen this. I invaded her privacy, and it's not what I came here to do…!
Getting a handle on my emotions, I once again brought my inner eye to bear on the silvaplate. Motes of light winked in and out of existence, points of energy across the level.
I grimaced. Shift. New search terms; inner and outer dividing walls, silvaplate, Level A-14.
A golden halo flared up around the circumference of the silvaplate—the double layer of dividing walls. From here, I could feel my way along the curved surface, looking for breaks in the plating that would mark the presence of an access hatch.
My eyes widened, lips parting. I… I found one!
It took almost half an hour for me to hurry over, my legs burning with exertion by the time I arrived. Gulping down air and leaning on a crumbling pillar for support, I took an analytical look over what lay before me.
It was as Sentinel had described it. The wall here was bronze, glowing with warmth in the beam of my flashlight. Intricate glyphs and carvings etched into the surface caught my interest, but that wasn't what I had come for.
Access hatch, access hatch… I turned back and forth, raking my light across the curved wall. I know you're here, so where… are… you…?
My eyes focused on a nasty and treacherous thicket of scrap metal. Reaching from floor to ceiling, the cluster of mangled girders and rusty lines of jagged rebar glinted in the light. Had someone had asked me what I would call something like this, I would simply reply with 'meat grinder.'
Biting my lower lip, I tentatively reached out and wrapped my hand around a strip of rebar. Let's see if this moves…!
I yanked on the tube of metal, releasing a sudden cry of pain. My hands spasmed involuntarily, losing purchase. My palms had come back bloody and caked with flakes of rust.
"Ow…" I whimpered aloud, falling to my knees. I pressed my forehead to the dusty floor, fighting back tears while pain ran rampant through my forearms.
Stop it…! I scolded myself, trying to get my tears under control. You'll be okay! It'll heal in a minute! Just focus on solving the problem first.
"Yeah…" I breathed to myself, lifting my trembling chin. "F—focus."
I rose up on shaky legs, leaning against a nearby wall. Despite the seething pain, there was no doubt in my mind that the access hatch was somewhere behind that meat grinder.
I could ask Sentinel… but I dunno if she'd have much better luck than me. This pile is so huge, I don't even think that big and scary tower guardian could get through it.
Deep in thought, I folded my arms. There's just too much stuff to move! The only way through would be… a pinpoint strike, I think. Something like a drill, or… or…
My eyes widened. …Wait.
I know exactly what to get.
As I hurried off, I took note of my palms. The cuts had already faded to lines of angry-red crisscrossing scars, and even those were fading by the second. All that remained were a few patches of powdered rust.
Wait… where'd the blood go?
I frowned, flexing my fingers. The crimson gore covering my hands had vanished without a trace.
That's a little weird. I shrugged, more important things on my mind. If anything, I was happy to see it gone.
I suddenly exhaled tiredly, feeling moisture on my forearms. It's a little warmer in here than I thought… I'm a little damp with sweat from all that running earlier.
I let droplets of water slide from my fingers, spattering across the floor. Anyway, now that that's taken care of… I'll be right back, wall. I'm gonna go get an old friend!
It took well over an hour for me to return, dragging the enormous weight behind me. Upon arrival, I crumbled facedown to the floor, unable to stand.
"T—that hurt…"
Taking a breather, I took a moment to review what I was planning. I already double-checked that it had fuel… at least, I think that was the fuel tank. I won't be able to hold it steady, so I'll have to set it down on a table or something to support it. After that… I guess all I can do is activate it and hope for the best…
Yeah… hope for the best… because this thing is centuries old and probably never once got test-fired.
I rotated my head, feeling the cool tiles on my cheek. My fallen flashlight caught the object I had dragged all the way here, letting me catch a glimpse of its polished metal shaft.
Okay, rocket lance… let's see what you can do!
I shakily rose up, wrapping my hands around the monstrous weapon's hilt once more. Pulling it closer to the thicket of steel, I scampered off to find a method of supporting the lance. Finding a small desk nearby, I pushed it along the floor, positioning it in front of my target.
And now here comes the hard part. Bending down, I wrapped both arms around the rocket-powered lance, groaning with the sheer effort it took to lift. I understood perfectly well that I wasn't anywhere near the scale of an adult, but I still had trouble picturing a human who could heft something so massive.
Please don't break, please don't break… My knees gave out just as I set the lance down on the piece of furniture, sending me back to the floor. The desk released a nasty squeal of protest, but remained intact.
Whew… Everything's ready!
Carefully raising my arm, I felt around for the weapon's grip. Finding it—as well as the trigger meant to ignite the rocket motors—I prepared to fire.
…Please don't explode in my face…
Bracing myself as best I could, I pulled the trigger.
The weapon was silent for a moment, leading me to believe at first that it was broken. But then, smoke began to trickle out. The four nozzles slid out, extending and angling themselves away from the weapon's grip. Each began to glow a fiery orange.
The lance emitted a faint beep.
With a deafening roar that rattled my gut, white-hot flames streamed from the weapon in a raging torrent, passing directly over my head. In the blink of an eye it shot forward, knocking the desk I hid beneath to the floor. I could only gape as it punched through the thicket of metal like it was nothing, emerging out the other side.
The sound of the firing rocket motors gradually faded into the distance as the lance tumbled down towards the Sea of Death. A fitting end to such an insane weapon.
In its destructive wake, a small hole had been bored through the obstruction ahead. Robbed of its structural integrity, the meat grinder fell apart, allowing sunlight to pour in—so much that I had to shield my eyes.
>Sentinel! Sentinel, I found it!<
"Whoa whoa whoa, back it up!" Sentinel exclaimed hotly, staring at me as if I'd grown two heads. "You used a what?!"
"A—a rocket lance…!" I cried back, pointing at the newly-created passage ahead. "You know! A lance… b—but with rockets attached to it…"
"What kind of halfwit crackpot scientist invents something so dumb?" the AI grumbled.
"You can't argue against its effectiveness!" I huffed, folding my arms in a pout. "I want one…"
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We're getting out of this deathtrap." The AGRA-NX lumbered forward, taking the lead. The tiny aerial drones had already returned to their berths inside the Type-14's chassis, which waited silently behind me. It was to take up the rear, leaving me sandwiched in the middle.
The AI deftly nodded, looking me over. "Whenever you're ready… Tower Administrator."
I nodded shakily, pulling my hood up so that she couldn't see the scarlet flush across my cheeks. I couldn't help it—not after what I had done. I felt only guilt for invading her privacy. "I—I'm ready…"
"Then let's go." The enormous machine up ahead vanished into the sunlight. I brought an arm up, shielding my eyes from the light I hadn't seen in days. Opening my mouth wide, I gratefully took in a breath of fresh air. Lifting my head, I—
Sky. Endless sky.
A gale-force wind met me head-on, my cloak flaring out in response. But I didn't pay any mind to that. How could I, with a view like this laid out before my eyes?
Sentinel and I stood on a wide ledge that appeared to run around the circumference of the silvaplate. Clad in stark white plating, this windswept place was too harsh to support abundant vegetation. Only a few gnarled cedar trees and patches of gray moss stubbornly clung to life.
The Isles of Aria spread out in every direction, riding on the cloudy Sea. Their rocky silhouettes shone orange in the light of the setting sun, strikingly contrasting with the indigo sky. Smaller clusters of rock drifted back and forth between their larger brethren, guided by the air currents.
I tentatively shuffled to the edge, peering straight down. From up here, the meadow and lake we'd started at looked like a miniscule diorama. The meadow was a welcome mat, the lake a puddle. The sprawling forest was naught but toothpicks. From here, I could make out the twin peaks of Mist's Reach, twenty kilometers away. My heart constricted, brimming with loneliness. In need of reassurance, I touched the necklace at my collarbone. Mitri and Evecia were probably eating dinner right about now… alone.
"I wanna go home…" I whimpered, too silent for Sentinel to overhear.
But I can't.
Determined, I turned my gaze skywards. The tower loomed directly overhead, looming imposingly. The orbiting plates of the ion corridor looked closer than ever.
>Administrator, this way.<
I turned to see the pair of tower guardians, slowly lumbering away. The top of the silvaplate rose in a very gentle incline, rising to the point where it intersected with Asciydria Tower's main shaft. The blackened pillar, which ran almost all the way through the spire, was nearly three kilometers in diameter and would take us all the way to the terminus of Section C.
>W—wait for me!< I scrambled after them, careful to watch my footing on the windswept slope.
Quickly catching up, I took up position between the pair as planned. Another gust of wind scoured the desolate surface, bitterly cold. I grimaced, my eyes like slits. "It's not gonna be like this all the way up, is it?!"
"No!" the AI hollered, shouting over the shrieking wind. "It's only like this because of permanent air currents that circle around this altitude. The ion corridor doesn't work nearly as well as it used to, and malfunctions quite often. That said, the weather should even out when we start our ascent of the main shaft!"
"That's good…" I was relieved that I hadn't overdressed when choosing my attire.
The hike up to the main shaft was stressful and exhausting, the wind snapping at our heels every step of the way. Though at the base of the enormous pillar, the curved top of the silvaplate angled back down. It formed a shallow basin encircling the main shaft, allowing us some respite before starting the climb.
"This is so pretty!" I exclaimed gleefully, rushing ahead. The low-lying area had been totally reclaimed by nature. A narrow stream—or lake?—ran through the manmade valley, vanishing off in the distance where it curved behind the gargantuan shaft. Numerous spruce and fir trees sheltered the lush area, protecting the wildlife that lived here. Giggling, I pushed my way through a copse of ferns, listening to the cries of panicked birds disturbed by my playful romp. With Cuddles held tightly in my arms, I could almost imagine that Mitri was here at my side.
>Administrator? We're here to work, not play,< the AI grumbled. I heard branches snap in twain, dry leaves crushed underfoot. Her tower guardians plodded along in perfect sync, treading alongside the midnight-black wall.
Huffing with annoyance, I hurried after them. I wanted to explore a little… I know I have important stuff to do, but I can have a little fun doing it, right?
Catching up yet again, I peered over at the stubborn AI. "Um… Sentinel, what are we looking for, anyway? Since it's getting dark, shouldn't we stop for the night?"
"We still have an hour or two of light remaining," the AI replied dryly, pointing at the sun which had only just kissed the cloud tops. "That's valuable time we can use. As for what we're looking for," her face suddenly brightened, "we're looking for that."
Buried in the foliage lay the beginning of a stairway, partially recessed into the side of the tower wall. More than wide enough for the AGRA-NX, I couldn't help but feel ill upon realizing that it had no railings. Up close to the cylindrical surface of the main shaft, I could see how its blackened surface had been encrusted with vines and patches of lichen.
"This is how we get up…" I hazarded a guess.
"Indeed."
"How high does it go?"
Sentinel's eyes smiled. "Fifteen kilometers straight up. All the way to the ion corridor!"
"That's… a lot of stairs…" I uttered weakly, already sensing that I was in for a world of hurt.
"Believe me, you don't wanna know the exact number of steps," she laughed, turning away.
"…Actually, that sounds kinda neat!"
"Suit yourself. It's—" The AI's face soured. "…Never mind. I can't remember it anymore." She clenched her tiny fists. "Dammit, I liked that one…"
"Oh…"
She tossed her head to the side, the hem of her navy blue robe fanning out. "No matter! You can count them yourself if you'd like. We begin our ascent immediately."
"I'll pass," I groused, making my way over to where the first of the steps lay. Hunching over, I experimentally tapped it with a fingernail. Whatever the exterior was made of, it wasn't stone or metal. Much like the inner dividing wall, ornate carvings sprawled across its surface. I couldn't help but wonder how long it took to chisel such things across the entirety of Asciydria.
The AGRA-NX took the first step, easily clambering up. Luckily for the AI, the stairway looked like it had been designed with giants in mind. Each individual step was large enough to pitch a tent.
I mean… I guess that kinda makes sense. This is one of the ways to move tower guardians around, right?
"Soooo…" I posed, staring up in trepidation. "How's all this gonna work?"
The AI pointed straight up with a stubby finger. "Stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. There are many waystations built all along this path—pretty sizeable platforms intended to help Asciydria's engineers rest up between maintenance shifts on the outer dividing wall. We can camp at those as we ascend."
I squinted at her suspiciously. There's no way it's that simple…
"Unfortunately—" the AI began.
Aaaaand there it is.
"—sections of the stairway have almost certainly collapsed," she continued, frowning. "That means that we'll have to traverse through the tower's interior again—perhaps even multiple times."
"Oh noooo…" I groaned in dismay, slumping against a tree trunk.
"Indeed. Hopefully we won't have to enter the tower too often, though. As you've seen, it's a bit of a deathtrap in there."
"No kidding…" I wearily pushed myself back upright.
Sentinel smiled hopefully. "We'll be fine, administrator. Really. We're ready to begin at your word."
I lifted my chin, staring up the vertical wall. Clouds circled around the upper reaches of the pillar, cloaking the bulbous superstructure that made up Section B in a layer of white mist.
This really goes all the way up to outer space…
I stretched my arms, flexing my fingers. I knew that the journey would be long and hard, and that I might even get hurt a little along the way. But despite that, I was ready for it all.
Clasping Mitri's necklace, I reaffirmed my promise to her.
I'll protect you all.
I hopped up onto the first step, the first of millions to come. And so, our vertical ascent of Asciydria Tower officially began.
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A journey through a dilapidated ruin is certainly no leisure trip, especially when it comes to such an enormous structure as a Tower. It was also neat to see Sylphira actually carrying out a direct connection through the Tower's lines.
Also,
Also,
is the armored helmet Sylphira found a prototype for her Linkage, by any chance? And is the Hymn Crystal she kept to herself related to EXEC_IN=FINITY/. in some way?
You know? It's a shame this fic will not have it's own "Singing Hill" song, I'm curious how could sound an hypothetical "Singing Hill ~Harmonics SYLPHIRA~".
Always wonderful seeing more of this. 
I'll undoubtedly need to do another read-through of this later, as some of the events/artifacts here are obviously going to be of some importance in the future.
I do have to wonder how much Sylphira's changing - she's growing into her powers, and Sentinal is obviously trying to make her grow up, but it will probably be a little while before we see how much success is being had.
Also, that part where she bled and the blood 'vanished' - am I right in thinking she just didn't realize that lost mass turns back into biofluid, so she thought that she was sweating instead of having no-longer-blood drip off of her?
I'll undoubtedly need to do another read-through of this later, as some of the events/artifacts here are obviously going to be of some importance in the future.
I do have to wonder how much Sylphira's changing - she's growing into her powers, and Sentinal is obviously trying to make her grow up, but it will probably be a little while before we see how much success is being had.
Also, that part where she bled and the blood 'vanished' - am I right in thinking she just didn't realize that lost mass turns back into biofluid, so she thought that she was sweating instead of having no-longer-blood drip off of her?
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
Why yes, yes it is. Unit 2-B is Sylphira's Linkage. Unit 2-A is Tyria's. As to the second... no, no it's not. This isn't a game-changing MacGuffin that I'm pulling out of the woodwork! But, it will still have minor importance for a non-Extract song later on.
That's exactly right.
As always, thank you for reading, everyone!
Well, a lot of stairs to go for Sylphira, but she's clearly going up in the world. And surely that must count for something.
Would this happen to be the same thing as the weapon type that Croix uses?
Sylphira right now.
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
In theory, yes. Mechanically and appearance-wise, I would have to say no. The lance here is a lot more mobile, independent, and leaves the hand far more often—more like a javelin than a lance. Or, if you've seen Guardians of the Galaxy, think Yondu and his little remote-controlled arrow of death.
...And as you can probably guess from this explanation, the rocket lance will be back.
On the bright side, by the time she hits the ion corridor, she'll have legs strong enough to kick right through steel!
Also, have this. I don't claim to be an artist, but I can at least cobble together some simple stuff.
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Chapter 8
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
Chapter 8 - First Song
The last traces of daylight had bled from the starry sky when Sentinel finally spoke up.
"We've reached the first waystation. Let's stop here for the night."
I yelped, bumping into the AGRA-NX's hindquarters; the machine had come to a sudden and jarring halt, taking me by surprise. It didn't help that it was almost pitch-black out. Many of the stars above were blotted out by Asciydria's sheer bulk, and the moons hadn't yet risen.
"Hey, don't touch my butt!" the AI cried out, giggling to herself. This was all just a joke to her.
"I can't see…" I complained, blindly flailing about. I was having trouble making out my own fingers in the darkness.
"Let's shed some light on the subject, shall we?" The Type-14—or what I assumed was the Type-14, due to the metallic whine of its servomotors—lumbered past, footsteps receding into the murky darkness ahead. With a sudden pulse, the area was bathed in fluorescent light.
I had expected more from a so-called waystation—structures and the like. A place for the laborers of old to sleep and eat at. Yet the crescent-shaped platform jutting out from the tower wall was devoid of manmade structures. Large enough for three Alto fighters parked nose-to-nose, the waystation was carpeted in a thick layer of moss and lichen and hosted several dozen hardy cedar trees and juniper bushes. The center of the platform sloped down into a shallow bowl, filled with crystal clear water and overgrown with reeds. The small pond teemed with life. It made sense; this must have been one of the few spots on the spire's clifflike wall where aquatic life could flourish.
Pretty… I shuffled forward, captivated. What had once been a barren and soulless waystation had become a sort of miniature forest over the long centuries.
Pushing my way through the bushes, I stumbled across a small clearing amongst the overgrowth… and I gasped in shock when I spotted the charred remains of a campfire at the center. Surrounded by a circle of bricks and filled with blackened logs and piles of ash, the fire pit looked like it was less than a month old.
"Sentinel…!" I cried out fearfully.
"What is it, administrator?" The AGRA-NX's enormous head pushed its way through the line of vegetation, flooding the glade in harsh light. The Type-14 was right behind it.
The AI paused. "Oh. Just a campfire. What's got you jumpy?"
I pointed at the fire pit, trembling. "T—there's other p—people up here…"
Sentinel tilted her head, perplexed. "Um… yeah? So what? It's not like Mist's Reach is the only place where humans live. It's just the largest and most organized settlement on Asciydria. You run into smaller enclaves and traveling nomads all the time up here."
"Oh…" I mumbled, blood returning to my face.
"This should be a great place to set up camp. There's just enough space to park both of my tower guardians, and there'll still be room for your tent and bedroll, too!"
Glancing around uncertainly, I lowered my guard just a little. "Are you sure it's safe…?"
She snorted incredulously. "Administrator, look at me. I'm the meanest, scariest thing on the entire tower. We'll be fine."
"…Okay." I released a shaky breath, making my way over towards the Type-14 and the camping equipment stowed away in its saddlebags.
It didn't take too long to set up camp, and I was glad of that. Even though we had only been climbing for a few hours, my calves were already hotly voicing their protest. Deadwood for the fire was plentiful amongst the nearby vegetation. With the help of Sentinel's machines, I dragged a block of rubble in front of the fire pit to act as a sort of chair, making it more comfortable with the application of spare blankets and my bedroll. After rearranging the circle of bricks and setting up my pop-tent with the pull of a ripcord, our camp was set up.
I ate dinner in front of the fire, buried in my makeshift seat. One hand was wrapped tightly around my teddy bear, warding off the eerie animalistic cries in the dark. The other roasted a piece of meat on a skewer over the crackling flames.
A sigh of contentment escaped my lips. A hard day's work, come to a close. A chance to rest my tired body and eat something delicious.
If I really don't need to eat or sleep, why's Sentinel letting me stop for the night, anyway? I posed the query to the AI, who paced back and forth through the air. Her tower guardians stood motionless at the far end of the glade, running on minimal power.
"You're welcome," she replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "This much physical activity is new to you. You'll need a period of time before the biofluid making up your corporeal form rearranges itself to adapt, resulting in a body with stronger muscles and greater endurance. Until that happens, though, we'll have to stop every so often to allow you to rest and recuperate, lest you hurt yourself."
"Is that it…?" I pressed.
The AI looked uncomfortable. "It's… unsafe to travel at these lower altitudes after nightfall. There are many nocturnal avian predators that call Asciydria home, and many of them roost in the lower levels of the main shaft. Fire scares them off, so we'll be safe."
I gulped, swallowing hard. Casting a hesitant glance at the starry sky, I almost expected to see a winged and leathery creature swooping down to devour me. "Um… would it be safer if we hid inside the tower, then?"
Sentinel brayed a laugh. "Really? After getting out only a few hours ago and seeing the conditions in there, you want to go back? If it were me, I wouldn't trust the ceilings to not flat-out collapse. A cave-in probably isn't the nicest thing to wake up to."
"Mmh…" I conceded to her point, casting my eyes down. With a hiss and pop of seared meat, my dinner announced to the camp that it was ready for consumption. I dug in happily, savoring the meal. Prepared beforehand by Evecia, it was proof that even up here, on my own, I could still count on her and Mitri—my family.
I stared into the fire pit, watching the blue-tinged streaks where the flames were at their hottest. "Sentinel… now that we're here, off on our own, can you tell me about the Grathnode Inferia?"
The AI nodded calmly, eyes locking on mine. "About time you asked. What do you know about it already?"
"Um…" I bit my lip, recalling what little I'd picked up on. "You said that it was a lot worse than Seven Bloodstains… and that it was when the old world died, right?"
Sentinel inclined her head. "That's the gist of it, yes. It was an apocalyptic event of unfathomable scale, obliterating Ar Ciel's land and sky." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can you guess which tower was responsible for it?"
I rolled my eyes skeptically. "Was it really Ar Tonelico again…?"
"It was. Granted, this time it wasn't their idiotic actions that led to it. The Grathnode Inferia was actually triggered because of the actions of Sol Cluster vigilantes."
I gasped. "Wait, wha…"
She peered at me. "Remember Syestine, the region that was destroyed in the eruption that was Seven Bloodstains?"
"Well yeah, b—but…"
"In a way, I can understand their feelings," the AI continued nonchalantly. "Ar Tonelico destroyed their homeland, their families. And so, the few survivors that made it out alive plotted vengeance."
"They would have tried to destroy Ar Tonelico, then…" I surmised, deep in thought.
"Syestine's avengers—members of a demihuman enclave known as the Teru tribe—did exactly that. Their members stealthily made their way to Ar Tonelico, aiming to silence it… for good."
And it all went wrong…
"And it all went wrong," Sentinel spoke on, voicing my thoughts perfectly. "The Teru made their way up through Ar Tonelico's innards, eventually reaching the tower's symphonic reactor. Once there, they severed all of the symphonic power lines—the leads that connect Ar Tonelico's upper systems to its lower systems. The action completely destroyed the spire's ability to regulate its own power levels."
The AI gave me a hawk-like stare. "Administrator, do you happen to know what grathnode is? What it does?"
"Um…" I scratched my temple, bringing all memories where grathnode was mentioned to the forefront. "It's… some kind of crystal, right? It's an important tower component, and there's also a bunch of it in my body."
She nodded. "That's right. Grathnode is a special crystal widely known for its unique property—the ability to amplify waves that pass through it, releasing them in a stronger form. Grathnode is a key component within Asciydria's core systems, crucial to the process of amplifying song magic. The tower's grathnode discs are what grant songs the bulk of their strength."
Grathnode discs… I couldn't help but think of those structures that I saw from the Apex—that beautiful pair of shimmering rainbow disks, spinning eternally in the frozen sky.
"In fact," Sentinel pointed out, "that necklace of yours is made of grathnode. See the pendant and those smaller flecks in the beads? The rainbow coloring is a sure sign of the stuff."
"W—wait, really?" I quickly unfastened the necklace, holding it in front of my eyes. The fractal shards of grathnode shone like fire. Wow…
"Continuing on, though," the AI said, tossing a small stick into the hungry flames. The sight was strangely funny; due to her tiny stature, she was unable to carry much. "Severing the power lines trapped Ar Tonelico in a feedback loop, its systems producing more and more symphonic power without any way to release it." She spoke grimly. "At that point, it was only a matter of time until the energy forcibly discharged."
"And then…?" I pressed.
"And then," she snapped her fingers, "the old world came to an abrupt end. You remember what happened during Seven Bloodstains, the widespread devastation that irreparably damaged Ar Ciel? Well… take that original ignition of energy, then multiply it by about fourteen hundred billion. That'll give you about a tenth of the pulse that was released from Ar Tonelico on that day."
Sentinel's face looked gray, her glassy eyes staring off into the distance. It was pretty clear to me that the Grathnode Inferia was an event that she remembered somewhat. "I'm exaggerating of course, but it's no joke how much power was unleashed. When Ar Tonelico's grathnode discs finally erupted, the majority of the energy was directed straight down, into the ground."
"Oh no…" I breathed, seeing exactly where this was going.
"For the second time in less than a decade, Ar Ciel's mantle was penetrated by another wave of symphonic power… though this one was magnitudes stronger. When this pulse met the cracked planetary core… it collapsed in on itself, crushed into dust."
"No…" I gaped at her, wide-eyed.
"And not only that," the AI continued, pointing up at the starry sky. "With the eruption of symphonic power, Ar Tonelico's grathnode discs shattered, sending a cloud of deadly shrapnel in all directions. Not only that, it dumped an unquantifiable amount of superheated plasma into the upper atmosphere, which eventually spread across the globe." She maintained her gaze upwards. "And that's how the Blastline was created—a roiling sea of plasma in the sky."
"But what about the core?!" I cried, leaping to my feet. "How can a planet even survive without a core?!"
She gave me a hard look. "It can't."
Suddenly drained, I slumped back into my makeshift chair. "So when you said that the world was ending… you really did mean it, huh. That Ar Ciel was coming apart at the seams… because of the planet's core."
"That's right," she confirmed. "Exactly right. Without a core, it's only a matter of time until the planet runs out of energy. Entropy demands it. Once all the remaining residual D-waves in the mantle have dissipated, Ar Ciel will cease to exist."
And that's all gonna happen in ten years or less… I thought of Mitri, of Evecia, of Serafi. How Mitri likely wouldn't live long enough to experience adulthood, or marriage. A profound worry blossomed in my chest.
"But this story isn't over yet," the AI surged onward. "The moment that Ar Ciel's core collapsed, the planet's crust began to splinter, opening fissures several kilometers deep. And from those fissures, a strange white mist began to emerge. A poisonous and corrosive mist, one that killed anything it touched, including machines.
"It was called the Sea of Death."
That simple title, now empowered by its terrifying origin, sent a tingle down my spine.
The AI cast her gaze down, pressing her tiny hands together. "And so, the story ends. It took a few decades for the Sea of Death to consume the entire surface, but when all was said and done, the only parts of Ar Ciel that rose above the toxic clouds were the tallest mountains and the amplification towers. Humans, Teru, every bit of plant and animal life, all driven to the very brink of extinction."
The fire pit crackled suddenly, making me jump. "And that's how the old world of Ar Ciel came to a tragic end—with death in the ground, and fire in the sky." She fell silent, watching the stars.
The nighttime tranquility was suddenly broken by the unsettling echo of that strange pipe organ once more, sounding mournfully off into the vast distance. Bats circled above, their leathery wingbeats merging with the gentle sigh of the wind to form an unearthly orchestra, the likes of which I'd never heard.
Despite the AI's solemn retelling of the past, I couldn't help but feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Something deep inside my soul wanted me to join, to add my voice to this ensemble.
So, while staring into the flames, I did.
I began to hum idly, a simple tune resolving in my head. My music had drawn the AI's attention, but I paid her no mind. My foot tapped gently to the rhythm. The tune growing ever more complex, I began to mumble lyrics—lyrics sung in a language lost to me, yet one that I somehow innately knew. It was as much a part of me as my thoughts, my memories, my emotions. It was integral to my very soul.
"Fou ki ra idesy erphy mea,"
"Fayra ware tanta spiritum."
While I remember those of the past,
I dance with the flames of their souls.
And then a dim orange light ignited in my unsuspecting lap.
Startled, I realized that a tiny orb of flame—no bigger than a plum—had been birthed in my palms, pulsing warmly with life and radiance. The mote of light flickered and wavered, twisting itself into geometric shapes in response to my voice.
My eyes locked on Sentinel, disbelief written all over my face even as I maintained my song. The AI gazed back with a smile, giving a subtle nod of approval. "You're learning."
We broke camp at first light, when beads of dew clung to the tent canopy and the birds hadn't yet awoken. I shivered in the cool morning air, exhaling puffs of white mist.
The gray sky was empty of clouds as Sentinel and I began our ascent once more, maintaining our usual formation. The AGRA-NX took the front, its wickedly-sharp horn leading the way. The Type-14, our cargo carrier, brought up the rear. I hugged the tower wall between the two hulking machines, my fingers gliding along its engraved surface.
As the day progressed, the conditions began to deteriorate. An icy wind picked up, chilling me to the bone. The sky grew angry, and churning clouds as black as coal rolled in.
At first, I had been worried due to the advancing cloud wall. Sentinel, however, reassured me that the incoming stormclouds were relatively harmless.
"The Sea of Death only hugs Ar Ciel's surface," she explained. "We're completely safe up here… at least from the poison, that is. No comment on the lightning."
Though with the stormy clouds came a cold, driving rain that slowed our pace to a crawl and left us drenched. I hunched over, hood pulled up, cloak gathered around me as best I could while we ascended the slippery steps. Rainwater cascaded down the stairway, forcing me to wade endlessly upwards through what felt like a river. I could hardly see ten steps in front of me, the mists obscuring my vision.
As the wind grew louder, wailing like a banshee, as lightning began to flare up and thunder shattered the sky, our party was forced to come to a halt. Thanks to Sentinel's echolocation, we managed to find a weathered notch in the tower wall that was barely large enough for a child; luckily, my small physical stature fit the bill perfectly.
I sat wedged in the narrow alcove, dripping water, teeth chattering. There wasn't even enough room for a fire, and I was loath to take Cuddles out and expose him to the pervasive dampness. The AI's tower guardians waited outside, completely motionless in the tempest.
Sentinel spoke in my mind, unwilling to even try shouting over the thunder. >A storm this bad has to mean that the ion corridor's acting up again. This much wind and rain isn't good for the outer dividing wall's surface.<
>Or for me…< I whimpered miserably, curled up in a ball to preserve what little warmth I had left. Hot tears mixed with icy rainwater on my cheeks.
The squall wore on until the next morning, leaving me with cramps and stiff joints as I hobbled back into the daylight. Met with the warmth of the morning sun, I couldn't help but give a tired smile. But despite my discomfort, there was no time for rest. Sentinel, ever the harsh taskmistress, drove me onwards and upwards.
Over the next several days, Sentinel and I had to make our way through the tower's decaying interior on two more occasions. We had no choice; huge swaths of the mighty staircase had fallen into the abyss, leaving nothing but twisted metal struts jutting out from the curved surface. And true to the amount of time it had taken us to traverse the silvaplate, the two of us were left wandering back and forth in the darkness for days. Though, as I grew more adept with my new 'tower sense'—as I'd taken to calling it—our progression through those dark and gloomy stretches began to accelerate.
Even so, it took us almost a week to reach the first major landmark beyond the silvaplate.
"If this keeps up, it'll take us a month just to reach the prome wall!" the AI groused in the dark, clearly less than satisfied with the speed of our progress. I remained silent, eyes locked on a smudge of vibrant green that lay at the end of the narrow passageway.
At last we emerged from the stale and murky innards of Asciydria, dazzled by the brilliant light of the afternoon sun. I squinted, raising an arm to shield my face.
My eyes widened. "What… is this place?"
Sentinel and I stood at the end of a four-laned road, its asphalt surface shattered into millions of smaller slabs. Roots, ferns, and saplings burst up from crevices in the street, uprooting guardrails and rusted-out streetlights. The muted trickle of flowing water—a nearby stream—echoed from somewhere amidst the greenery, proof that this place was alive and flourishing. With so much water and vegetation, I wasn't surprised to hear the sounds of small animals scurrying about in the underbrush.
It was an entire city, long since abandoned and forgotten.
On both sides of the street, the husks of tall buildings loomed, completely reclaimed by nature. Many of them slumped over, ominously leaning into the road. Several more had collapsed, leaving nothing but heaps of rubble strewn everywhere. And others miraculously still remained upright, though were crushed and mangled in the grasp of gigantic tree roots. I turned my gaze upwards, stunned to learn that all the roots were part of the same organism—a massive amalgamation of trees that loomed over the entire city like a guardian, shadowing all beneath its leafy canopy. It must have been almost a kilometer tall, with a similar width. Its trunk was thicker than the girthiest building. Beyond that viridian ceiling, the orbiting plates of the ion corridor seemed closer than ever before. And beyond that lay only sky.
I was transfixed by the ruins' surreal beauty.
"This place you're seeing," the AI replied serenely, "is Asciydria Tower's secondary skydock. It's a large structure that juts out horizontally from the spire's main shaft. And yeah, I know, it's a boring name for such a cool place. Anyway, commercial airships too large to safely navigate through the airspace in proximity to the primary skydock—all the way up in Section B—berth down here for the exchange of cargo, standard maintenance operations, or even full hull refits."
"Mmh…" I murmured, following the root networks with my eyes. Something itched in the back of my mind; I couldn't help but feel like we were being watched. Though, anyone would be jumpy in a place like this—pretty or otherwise.
The two of us carefully made our way along the mossy road, which ever-so-slightly sloped downward. A narrow stream cut its way through the center of the pavement, guiding us through the ruins. Sentinel's tower guardians shattered the brittle tarmac with every heavy footfall, kicking up dust and leaves. Every step would release a dull metallic thud, echoing amongst the twisted architecture.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I inhaled long and hard, eyes shining. The air was clean and fresh, filled with the earthy scent of petrichor that could only be caught shortly after a heavy rainfall. Leaves fell like snowflakes from the gargantuan tree overhead, carpeting every flat surface. Shafts of sunlight filtered down through the viridian canopy, dotting the tranquil place with pools of light.
I clasped the necklace at my collarbone, recalling what Evecia had said about travel—seeing new sights that you'd never previously imagined. Stuff like this is what you meant, huh…
The skyscrapers began to thin out as we made our way down the street, replaced with enormous warehouses and hangars that had seen better days. The pavement ahead was crisscrossed with rails, tracks for construction cranes scattered across the area. The enormous moveable structures now looked like desiccated skeletons, rotted out and covered with patches of lichen. Leafy vines snaked around their framework, slowly but surely pulling them apart. Large cargo containers lay strewn about like discarded toys, slowly melting away into rust under the elements. The hulking carcasses of derelict airships lurked amongst the cranes, some bigger than houses.
We walked further down the length of the secondary skydock, where the ground became marred with deep fissures revealing only sky below. Up ahead, something revealed itself amidst the forest of hangars, fuel tanks, and decaying husks of airships.
"It's gigantic…" I whispered, blankly staring up at the entity's sun-bleached flanks.
It was the airship that I'd seen from below when I first gazed up at Asciydria Tower. Seeing it from a distance was one thing… but up close, there was no question in my mind that the airborne vessel was as big as a mountain. The entirety of Mist's Reach could have fit comfortably within its cavernous hull, canyon and all. It hung over the abyss beyond the edge of the skydock, tethered to the spire by rusted mooring clamps and ensnaring roots from the tree above. Combined, they ensured without a doubt that the airship would never ply the skies again.
The vessel dwarfed every structure on the skydock, its mountainous flanks rising above the tallest skyscraper. It vaguely resembled one of the darts I'd used while hunting—narrow, sleek, and bristling with control surfaces. Large fins protruded from the vessel's nose and tail. The airship's skin—once stretched taut and glistening silver—was flayed in places, exposing the vessel's steel rib cage. Loose panels of fabric flapped in the breeze. The remainder of the airship's surface area was carpeted with moss. Through the vegetation that had sprung up across it, I could still make out traces of delicate gold filigree.
Beyond the derelict vessel lay only sky, stretching all the way to the horizon and beyond. Below, the Isles of Aria drifted on the cloud tops. I'd hoped that I'd be able to see Mist's Reach from up here; I couldn't deny the ache of homesickness in my gut. Though from this vantage point, I could only see the other side of the floating landmasses, opposite the human settlement. The wreckage of Sphilar Prism gleamed in the distance, catching the afternoon sunlight.
Awed by the incredible view, I spun around slowly to take it all in. "It's… beautiful!" A frown crossed my face. "Wait… um, Sentinel, we didn't need to come out here to continue climbing, did we? I mean, if this juts out from the tower, then we can't…" I gestured upwards, shrugging helplessly.
"Your powers of observation never cease to impress," she uttered sarcastically, rolling her gray eyes. At this point, she had performed the gesture so much that it was a miracle her eyeballs hadn't rolled right out of her skull yet. "No, we don't need to come out here to continue upward. But there is one thing we need to do, so go ahead and set up camp! We'll be here for a few days, after all." Driving her point home, her Type-14 tower guardian dropped all of its bags at my feet.
Taking the hint, I scooped up the first bag. I grunted with exertion, struggling under its weight. "Nnng! Wh—why did we… come out here… then?"
Traces of a smile resolved on the AI's childlike face. "Because there's something you need to do. Sure, you've dabbled in this subject, but it's about time you learned it in its entirety. Tonight, you become a Reyvateil in full. Tonight, you learn song magic."
Mmmh… I gingerly leaned forward, reaching out to touch the airship's frayed skin. It looked so fragile; I was amazed that it had held together for as long as it did. Even so, it was obvious by its condition that this vessel was only half the age of the rest of the tower. Comparatively, this thing was a recent arrival.
>Administrator?< Sentinel's voice called from the boundaries of my mind. >The sun's getting real low. We'll start this off as soon as the campfire is lit. I can't say I know much about actually pulling off song magic, since I lack the ability to create it, but I'll do what I can with the knowledge I have. Where are you?<
I hesitantly drew back, boots scuffing on the grooved metal floor. >I'm just… um, checking out that really big airship. I'll be over in a minute!<
>…Right. Take your time.< Her presence faded.
More than a little excited at the prospect of learning literal magic, I debated for a moment whether to return immediately.
…Nah. Just one more minute… I wanna see what these markings are.
I leaned forward once again, scraping clumps of moss from the derelict airship's hull with my fingernails. Faded streaks of paint revealed themselves, exposing some kind of elaborate coat of arms—along with the vessel's name.
S.C.V. Tempest --- CVU 041
Neo Elemia, Sol Ciel Alliance
Commissioned in 3405
Beneath the airship's information lay its emblem—a beautiful pair of white wings encircling a golden halo. Rising up through the center of the ring was something that looked like some kind of tower, but I wasn't completely certain.
However, I was certain of one thing.
…What the heck is a Sol Ciel vessel doing here? I could understand if it was back from before the Grathnode Inferia, seven centuries ago… but this airship is only three hundred years old!
It was then that I noticed that many of the tears in the vessel's outer hull seemed… off. They didn't look like they'd all been created through centuries of wind and rain. Many of them were perfectly circular, leaving the silvery skin around them singed.
…Someone shot at this airship! Bewildered, I craned my neck. There were dozens of them—no, hundreds. In the process of landing here, the vessel had taken an incredible beating.
I wonder if Sentinel knows what happened? Making my way back along the boarding ramp, I returned to solid ground. Now that I was aware of the centuries-old fight, I could see the signs—decay that wasn't actually decay. Burn marks on the walls, craters in the deck that punched all the way through the aerial dock. A rusty shell casing clinked beneath the sole of my boot.
Whatever had happened here three hundred years ago was an all-out war.
Sentinel will know, I bet. Still, though… it's so weird. Shrugging, unable to glean anything else from the ruins, I began the short trek back to camp.
Though one other thing tugged at my mind—the misspelling in the vessel's point of origin.
El Elemia… it's supposed to be El Elemia. That was the seat of power for Sol Ciel. So… what's Neo Elemia? Is it just a spelling mistake, a different name for the same place… or something else entirely?
Only the setting sun answered my query.
The twin moons had risen above the horizon when I finally arrived back at the campsite. It wasn't far from the derelict airship, but the crumbling dock made hiking treacherous. I had to watch my step, lest I find myself going for a second base jump off the spire.
I had erected my tent outside the doors of a collapsed hangar, sheltered beneath a copse of cedars that had grown wild with the absence of their gardeners. Sentinel had suggested digging a trench around the area to keep the rain out, and putting up a few blankets on the windward side of the camp to fend off the sky's glacial breath. I had done both.
My boots scraping on the cracked asphalt, I rounded the corner of the dilapidated hangar. I noted that the campfire had already been lit, the flickering light like a beacon for small airborne wildlife. Bats flitted overhead on leathery wings, preying on insects drawn by the light.
"Sentinel… are you there?" I called out, peering into the gloom beyond the flames. The AI and her proxy tower guardians were nowhere to be seen.
"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, popping into existence near my tent. "Administrator, there you are." She sat on the curved fuselage of a smaller tower guardian, the flying unit having been deposited there by its Type-14 carrier. The other drone—as well as the two quadrupedal machines—were nowhere to be seen.
I gave the tiny figure a curious look. "Sentinel, where's the rest of your stuff…?"
"I have them out on patrol," she replied, thumbing into the darkness outside of the camp. "I've detected familiar heat signatures all over the area—human life signs. There's no question that people still live here, and I don't want them getting too curious about our presence." A smile tugged at her lips. "If they try and ambush us, I'll give them a scare to last a hundred lifetimes… or worse. Anyway, are you ready to learn some song magic?"
"Song magic, y'say?" an unknown voice called from the shadows.
Sentinel and I both shrieked in unison, leaping into the air. The AI composed herself first; her eyes flashed. In that moment, I knew that the AGRA-NX was circling back at full speed.
The mysterious figure shuffled into view at the edge of the camp. Their lean body was hidden from sight by a cloak made from colorful textiles, tattered and frayed at the edges. The rusted barrel of some kind of rifle protruded through folds in the fabric; though it seemed like the firearm was at rest, slung over the figure's shoulder.
The entity raised two gloved hands, gruffly speaking in a deep and scratchy voice that was unmistakably male. "Now, listen 'ere. I don't want no trouble, I just want to talk. I can help y—"
Crack!
An enormous white blur barreled out of the foliage, its teeth gleaming in the light of the flames. The stranger shouted with surprise as the tower guardian pounced, knocking him to the mossy ground. In the blink of an eye, Sentinel had the man pinned beneath the crushing weight of her most fearsome machine.
>DON'T. MOVE.< Sentinel growled.
"I said I don't want no trouble…" the man grumbled, struggling to get free. His face was obscured by a cap and ragged muffler.
>IDENTIFY YOURSELF,< she barked coldly. The AGRA-NX lowered its head, coming nose to nose with her captive. The man didn't even flinch. >NOW!<
"Sam," he groaned, writhing in pain as the AI put more pressure on him. "Sam Noakes…"
"Sentinel!" I cried out, scrambling over. "You're hurting him! He just wants to help…"
The metal monstrosity whipped its head around, glaring at me with glowing eyes. >This is not the time to be trusting of a complete stranger. He's dangerous, administrator! He's not one of your precious friends from Mist's Reach, this is a fully-grown human!<
"Not… human…" the man gasped raggedly.
That gave the AI pause. >…Really?< she uttered thoughtfully—though not letting off on the pressure.
…That does it. She's gonna break his arms if this keeps up. Squaring my shoulders, I marched forward, going nose-to-nose with the gargantuan machine. It could effortlessly kill me. It could headbutt me, swat me aside, blast me with the devious armaments the AI had no doubt squirrelled away into its chassis. But it wouldn't. Sentinel had made that point abundantly clear; she could not willingly harm me.
"Sentinel," I whispered harshly, trying to mask my timid nature. "I am Tower Administrator Sylphira. So please…" I exhaled sharply, "back off. That's an order."
I could have cut the resultant tension with a knife.
>Administrator…" the AI breathed, disbelief evident in her voice. Her tower guardian visibly flinched, averting its eyes.
The machine backed down.
I dropped to my knees, helping the stranger up. He grunted his thanks, massaging his forearms. They'd been crushed beneath the AGRA-NX's forelegs. I'm so sorry, Sentinel… I didn't wanna have to do that. I wasn't even sure if it would work!
"Thanks, girl," the man said, his voice muffled behind layers of fabric. "Didn't think I'd be survivin' a close encounter with th' guardians. What'd ye say to drive 'er off?"
I froze, mind drawing a blank. I hadn't anticipated this part. I had helped him because I believed that it was the right thing to do. But now? I had no idea what to say, what to share and what to conceal. But I was certain of at least one thing; I wasn't eager to receive anymore undeserved goddess treatment.
"She's… my friend," I stammered, looking away. "She listens to me."
"…Why did you come here? What do you want from us?" Sentinel queried from the far side of the clearing, voice seething with suspicious hatred. Her holographic form refused to meet my gaze.
The man who called himself Sam pulled aside his muffler, revealing a haggard face that must have seen sixty or seventy years. His wrinkled skin was pockmarked and weathered, the kind of skin only found on one who had spent a lifetime outdoors. His green eyes, sunken deep into his skull, glittered with furtive intelligence. A thin layer of gray stubble covered his gaunt cheeks, and tufts of silvery hair protruded from beneath his cap.
He glared at the AI, rising to his full height. "I hail from Lyra Village. I came 'ere to inspect th' airships, and got trapped when that damnable energy shield came up a couple weeks back."
The prome wall, I realized.
Sentinel laughed bitterly. "Yeah, sure. Lyra Village doesn't even exist anymore! Dai destroyed it hundreds of years ago." Her eyes flashed. "You'll have to lie better than that, Teru."
…Wait, this guy's a Teru? I blinked slowly, perplexed. I kinda expected something… different-looking. Sentinel said that these guys were demihuman, right?
Sam shrugged, his emotions unreadable. "I'm livin' proof that it's perfectly fine. Lyra Village has ne'er been livelier, I'll have y'know."
"That's… not possible…" she breathed, shaking her head vigorously. "It's not… I'd know…"
I hesitantly stayed out of the conversation, utterly lost. Dai? Lyra Village? What the heck… it's like I've entered a whole new world again, with a whole new set of terms.
"Well, yer wrong," Sam replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I saw yer fire, and overheard what the two of ye were discussin'." His viridian eyes fixed on me. "You. What's yer name, girl?"
"S—Sif…" I stammered weakly.
"I see." Sam's eyes locked on the teddy bear that sat at my feet. "Where're yer parents?" The Teru man examined me carefully. "Ye look to be… seven? No, eight years old. Yer too young to be off on yer own like this." He crackled his bony knuckles. "It's dangerous for a kid up 'ere."
"I—I came up here from Mist's Reach to save the tower—for my friends and family," I stated determinedly, deigning to tell the truth at least this once. "If Sentinel and I work together, nothing can stop us…!"
The Teru cocked his head, smiling slightly. "That's quite th' journey ye've taken up for one so young—and it's actually why I came down 'ere, looking for airworthy vessels at th' request o' my tribe. I'm bettin' that th' art of song magic would be invaluable for yer trip; that is, if yer seekin' it." The elderly man leaned closer, eyes gleaming in the light of the flames. "It's a lost art. With th' extinction of th' singers of old, many songs have been lost to time itself." He thumped his chest proudly. "My tribe's village is th' last bastion of singers—th' only place left in this world where it's still taught."
"And you're just gonna teach her? Sure," Sentinel spat angrily, struggling with herself. As strong as the AI was, her sheer force of will was unable to overcome her ironclad programming. I had given her an order, and she could not disobey it. "Maybe you've got her suckered in, but I don't buy it. What's your angle? What do you get out of all this?"
"Ah. Well…" the man shrugged helplessly, sinking onto a boulder next to the blazing campfire. "It's like I said. Th' old ways are dyin'. Perhaps that's how it's meant to be. But I won't just sit quietly and let it fade into th' darkness." Determination resolved within the creases in his face. "If I can pass what I know onto the next generation—and to a human at that—maybe I can coax a couple more centuries out o' it before th' art dies out for good."
He thinks I'm a human…! I realized with a jolt. I mean… I guess that's fine. If I told him that I was a Reyvateil… well, the whole 'goddess' thing would start all over again. I don't want that…
"Now…" Sam moved, coming nose-to-nose with me. "Let Ol' Sam get a good look at ye."
I gasped involuntarily, leaning back. His gloved hands locked on the sides of my head. I withered under the force of his glare while he stared deep into my eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, he let go. "Strange..." he murmured, returning to his previous spot. "That's an interestin' eye color you've got there, girl. I've ne'er seen anyone sportin' that particular hue… well, except for th' pure-blooded clan members. Th' ones descended straight from th' highest-rankin' o' Reyvateils—who in turn came from th' Sleeping Goddess herself."
"Really…" I murmured, bemusedly making the connection between myself and the so-called Sleeping Goddess. If only he knew… "Um… what was that for, though?"
The elderly man held up a finger, silencing my query. "Just checkin' yer potential. You can learn a lot from someone's eyes if ye know what to look for." He nodded with approval. "Aye. You'll do just fine—better than fine, actually."
>Sentinel…?< I called out in private, noticing that she'd remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the brief examination.
>Just… do whatever,< she replied woundedly. >Call me if you need anything.< The AGRA-NX sat on its haunches, glaring balefully at the two of us from the shadows.
"I—I'm ready to learn!" I cried out resolutely, pressing a hand against my chest.
"Glad to hear it," Sam snorted, laying his rifle in a patch of grass. "Now… I can't claim to be th' best teacher, but 'ere it is.
"Th' art o' song magic is focused on two core parts; yer emotions, and th' use o' a language thousands o' years old, created by th' Old Ones to manipulate th' energy permeatin' Ar Ciel." He spread his arms wide. "That language is called Hymmnos. You need to be fluent in it to master th' way of th' song." His glare turned on me once more. "Do y'know Hymmnos, girl?"
I gave him a blank look. Hymmnos…?
>Um…!< I sputtered frantically, addressing the AI. >Sentinel, help!<
>Oh, so now you need my advice…< she grumbled, very much upset. >You're a Reyvateil, and every single Reyvateil is programmed to both understand and speak Hymmnos fluently. In fact, you've already been exposed to the language a lot already. That… thing in the plasma bell spoke to you in Hymmnos. Those lyrics you sang at the campfire last week? Oh, and EXEC_IN=FINITY/.? Also Hymmnos. You just didn't realize because of how innate your knowledge of it is.< Her voice flared up with anger. >Now please, administrator… leave me alone.<
>I'm sorry…< I whispered, pulling away from the forlorn AI. Turning my focus back on the man Sentinel had called a Teru, I gave my answer. "Um… yes. I'm fluent in it, actually!"
His bushy eyebrows lifted. "That so? They sure teach ye well in Mist's Reach."
"Something like that…" I coughed nervously, averting my eyes.
"Then let's begin." the man leaned forward, displaying his gloved palm. "We'll start with somethin' straightforward; creatin' a single spark o' flame. Nonetheless, girl, since yer not a Reyvateil, yer power will never be truly strong. Nor will mine, nor anyone else. And that's cause o' our emotions. They're… impure, conflictin'—not like th' Reyvateils. Anyway, th' best way to use th' power o' song is to combine it with others, to merge yer voices together." He folded his arms, raising his chin proudly. "That's how we keep up th' energy barriers that protect our village. Nothin' can get past us singin' together."
"I get it…" I whispered, glancing down at my own palm. I… I guess that a lot of this won't apply to me, since I actually am a Reyvateil… but still, that doesn't really give me a good idea of what my limits are. What's possible, and what isn't?
"What were the Reyvateils capable of, way back when…?" I probed cautiously. "Were they really that powerful?"
Sam nodded eagerly, taking the initiative to toss a block of wood onto the campfire. "They were, girl. If ye can imagine it, th' Reyvateils did it." His eyes shone. "Some say they even created th' whole tower from nothin'. Can ye imagine? The world we know, made with th' power o' song and nothin' else."
A thrill rose up within me. "Wow… really?"
"Wrong," Sentinel muttered in a low voice.
The Teru man cast an angry glare at her. "Ye got somethin' to say, robot?"
"I wanted to say that you were wrong," she shot back. "Asciydria wasn't completely built by the Reyvateils. The tower already existed in an incomplete state prior to that."
He snorted disapprovingly. "We don't have anythin' like that recorded on th' Chronicle."
"Well, it's true!" the AI shot back fiercely. "This was all way back before your people immigrated here." She turned her focus on me. "Remember last week, how I mentioned that Asciydria Tower was barebones when Ayrakii R&D showed up? Well, it's true. Only the spire's framework and a few core systems—namely the Orgel, the Apex, the ion corridor, and the Tower Administrator's SH server—were assembled. Ayrakii brought with them their own SH server, hooked it up to the tower's systems, then used Reyvateil workers to 'sing' the rest of Asciydria into existence. Over time, most of the old systems were replaced with updated, song-crafted ones. Less than two percent of the original tower still remains."
I blinked, feeling that thrill rising once more. "No way… is something like that really possible with song magic?"
She nodded firmly. "It is. Thanks to their Reyvateils, a construction project that took Ar Tonelico decades only took a few months. On the day we met, remember how I mentioned clothing generated via symphonic power? It's the same concept here, just applied on a much larger scale."
"Can we get on with th' lesson?" Sam interrupted impatiently, scratching his forearms in a gesture I assumed was annoyance or discomfort. "It's gettin' late, and I've got work to do tomorrow."
"Oh!" I bowed my head in apology. "Um… I'm sorry."
"Right." The elderly man gave a wry smile. "Song magic dates back to th' days when nomads wandered th' plains o' Ar Ciel. Th' very first singers were village shamans, usin' it to summon rain, light fires, and th' like. They did it by havin' all the villagers singin' together, which would draw magic right from th' other side—th' parallel place where all magic origina—"
"Uh, no," Sentinel cut in, rolling her eyes. "There's a perfectly scientific explanation behind it, not all that superstitious mumbo-jumbo crap. Remember that lecture I gave you on sound science? Everything in the universe is made up of waves—which includes thoughts and emotions in the form of H-waves. If you know how to do it right, you can manipulate the waves making up the atmosphere, transmuting it into something different. Or, you can simply add something new. For example, adding additional water vapour to the air to create a raincloud." She folded her arms. "Child's play."
"Now listen 'ere…" Sam growled.
I could only lean back and sigh, resigning myself to an… interesting evening.
I couldn't really expect anything else; the evening wore on exactly as I'd feared. Much of what I was to learn was frequently broken up by arguments between the AI and the Teru man.
Though, things somehow managed to work. Sentinel was highly knowledgeable as to the science of sound and the mathematics behind it all… but she had no personal experience in terms of using song magic. How could she, after all?
On the other hand, Sam was a man who knew very little about the mechanics behind the scenes, but he had decades of firsthand experience with song. Sentinel was logic, and Sam was impulse. And it was that delicate balance that led me to learn.
I had started small. Sam had provided an ancient piece of song magic once used by young Reyvateils, and Sentinel had helped me learn how to find the command for it inside my mindscape. It was the same one I had accidentally used when I created fire for the first time, so locating it wasn't overly difficult.
"I'm ready…!" I announced earnestly, taking hold of the lyrics in my mind's eye.
At the encouragement of the pair, I generated sparks from my fingertips, my crystal-clear voice echoing through the night. Though I had to be wary. I was cautious after learning of song magic's potential… and not only that, I didn't want to reveal my true identity to Sam. Though as the night wore on, after he had waved me off and shuffled out of camp with the vague promise of seeing us soon, I was free to practice to my heart's content… at full power.
No more holding back…!
"How's my little pyromaniac?" Sentinel questioned, her holographic body drifting over. Though the little AI had visibly relaxed after the Teru man departed, I still got the vague sense that she was on edge.
"I wanna try something else…" I said absentmindedly, staring into the flames. I could still remember how it felt— the heat, it flickering light in my palm. Energy that I had created.
"Why are you hiding your identity from him?" the AI questioned, ignoring my answer.
I gave a helpless shrug. "It just… didn't feel right. Back at Mist's Reach, I didn't feel like a deity… and I still don't, even after what happened in the plasma bell! I'm still just a kid…"
"Perhaps." She drifted closer, setting down on my shoulder. "But whether you feel like it or not, that's what you are. You are Tower Administrator Sylphira—for better or for worse—and nothing can change that. Might as well own it."
"Maybe…" I mumbled, flexing my fingertips.
"But enough of that," she changed the topic. "You want to try something else? How about finding out what medium you're attuned with?" the AI forced a grin. "That should be fun."
"Attuned… medium…?" I questioned.
She nodded. "That's right. Though every Reyvateil has the ability to utilize any kind of song magic—not including special cases like EXEC_IN=FINITY/.—each has an affinity, a medium that they're best at generating. Said medium can be anything, from matter to energy." Sentinel spread her palms, displaying two holographic orbs—one that seethed with a miniature inferno, and another that crackled with lightning. "Most Reyvateils are attuned to the usual suspects—fire and electricity. But," she smiled wryly, "some lucky ones get mediums that are more… interesting."
''…Like?"
"Gravity, magnetism, sound, fusion…" She tapped her lip, thinking. "Pretty much along those lines. Really, the only thing you're limited by is imagination."
"So how do I know what mine's gonna be?" I asked eagerly, fidgeting in my seat.
"All you've gotta do is sing," she replied. "Every Reyvateil should have some kind of basic attack—materializing a ball of energy or matter or whatever. It's only a weak little novice song, so it won't be very strong, but it'll at least give you an idea of what you're oriented to." The AI moved off, giving me some room. "All you need to do is sing. The spell should default to and spawn the medium most easily drawn to you—the one you're attuned with. It's as easy as that."
"I'll do my best…" Closing my eyes, I reached deep inside myself, searching for the well of raw energy that was the source of my strength.
"Just remember what Sam taught you," she reassured. "You'll do fine."
Okay. I lifted my arm, palm upraised. My fingers twitched with uncertainty; I was unsure of what I'd be getting. Let's do this…!
And so, I began to sing.
I sang of the howling winds that ravaged the sky, of the devouring flames that roared before my eyes. I sang of the rushing water, the brilliant circle of light in the sky that we called the sun—every single source of motion or energy that I could think of. All the while, I focused on drawing strength from within, transferring it into the palm of my hand.
Something began to surge in the air before me.
Hairs along my arm stood up, and the foul odor of ozone assailed my nostrils. And then, before I knew it, an orb of pulsating light ignited in my hand. Its color shifted erratically, rolling from one hue to the next like the changing tides—violet, indigo, blue, then back again. Charges of electricity arced through the air like snakes. Some shot into the flames, others burrowed into the ground. Others still rocketed up into the starry sky, never to be seen again. I could feel its raw heat, but at the same time it wouldn't burn me. It couldn't. I could feel the power of my creation in the atmosphere, like the air was thick with it.
I stared in curiosity at the pulsating sphere, maintaining the song lest my creation fade away into the night. W—what did I create?
Sentinel drifted closer, blinking slowly. "That's… new," she muttered. "Cut the flow." I obeyed, stilling my voice. The strange orb of light flickered and faded from existence.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Um… what was that thing?"
"Interesting…" the AI whispered, staring into the fire pit. Then she turned, eyes locking with mine. Purpose shone within them. "The energy best attuned to your psyche is plasma."
"Plas… ma…?"
"Indeed," Sentinel nodded, deep in thought. "I don't think I've actually ever seen plasma as a specialization before. That's because by nature, one needs to manipulate several energies simultaneously to generate it in the first place—namely various forms of heat and magnetism to create the ionization required. And to boot," she added, "to make a mass of plasma that size on your first try, without having any prior training or experience… that's unbelievable! Your body must be coursing with surplus energy. It's a little scary, actually."
Then she shrugged. "Though… I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. You're a Reyvateil Origin, after all! Naturally your power would be vastly greater than that of normal Reyvateils. I'm sure that the other Origins are equally unique with their songs."
"Mmh…" I felt like there were unanswered questions that had been on my mind, but I was unable to reach them through the haze of excitement. I can make plasma!
For a time I sat there, my voice rising over the crackling flames. One orb sprung from my palm, then promptly collapsed while I tested my energy output. Satisfied, I created one anew. Then another. And yet another. Soon enough, I had five small spheres of plasma orbiting my head. The crackling balls of superheated matter gave off much more luminosity than the campfire, bathing the glade in a cool blue light.
"Wow," I breathed, cutting off the flow.
"…Administrator," Sentinel uttered solemnly, changing her tone.
"Yeah?" I glanced over at the AI, who had demurely seated herself on a boulder off to one side. She stared into my eyes, her voice quivering with apprehension.
"D—do you," she breathed, looking away. "Do… um, do you trust me?"
"Do I trust you…" I mouthed, frowning. What's she mean by that all of a sudden…? "Is it because of what I did to you earlier? I'm so sorry, but you almost broke Sam's arms!"
"Yes, that's why…" she mumbled, wringing her hands. "I didn't mean to hurt him…" Her words were very uncharacteristic of the Sentinel that I saw on a daily basis.
"…Okay." I took a moment to ruminate, watching the smoke billow into the starry sky. Leaves rustled in the dark, caressed by a gentle breeze. Something in the campfire snapped in twain with a dull crack.
Sure, she's helped me out so much~ She saved my life back when I fell from the Apex… and back in the plasma bell, she sacrificed most of her tower guardians to save the tower. Though to be fair, I guess a lot of that was just self-preservation. …Does she actually even like me? Or am I just a means to an end?
Now that I think about it… she's been pretty mean to me. Granted, she kinda acts mean to everyone, and maybe I take the brunt of it because I spend the most time with her… but still. She's impatient, rude, and cruel. I couldn't help but recall how the AI had soaked me in a raincloud for fun, and how many bruises I'd accumulated during her uncaring movements.
"…No," I admitted.
Sentinel released a stifled, pained gasp. The small AI's head drooped, face hidden amidst the forest of jet-black hair. It was quite clear that my answer wasn't the one she expected, nor wanted.
Then she lifted her head, forcing a smile. "…Good." Her voice was subdued. "It's… better if you don't, anyway. I'm not a very good person, after all."
"W—wait…" I stammered weakly, rising to my feet.
She turned away, gazing out into the darkness. "I'm gonna go run some patrols for a bit. You should get some sleep… Sylphira."
And then, without another word, she had vanished into the night.
"Sentinel…" I whispered.
When I woke up the following morning, late into the day, the AI was nowhere to be found.
>Sentinel…?<
Silence.
Dammit. I crawled from my tent, accompanied by a trail of yawns. Sunlight beamed down on my exhausted face. The sun was already high in the sky. I had barely gotten any sleep, due to the fact that I had practiced my song into the wee hours… but it was worth it.
I recalled with a smile the events of last night. My fingers twitched, still remembering the warmth from cradling that small, flickering orb. Yeah… it was definitely worth it.
But… Sentinel… I took a good look around the campsite, peering into the crumbling ruins of the nearby hangar. Aside from dozens of large footprints, the AI's tower guardians were nowhere to be seen.
I get it… she's avoiding me. With a heavy sigh, I relit the campfire to make some breakfast. On the bright side, I can explore a little bit! And I can practice some more on my own time. Eager for the day ahead, I slid a pan over the growing flames.
I gulped down my breakfast in short order, downing a fried egg and a few salted cuts of meat before making my way into the ruins with a spring in my step. My exhaustion had evaporated in minutes, lending more credence to Sentinel's words—that I didn't even need sleep.
My face soured. Speaking of… I thought back to last night. What the AI had asked of me, and how I responded. She had asked me to be honest, and I was. If she didn't like my answer, then perhaps she shouldn't have been so mean in the first place.
I leapt over a block of concrete, running down the asphalt path. The air felt cool on my exposed face and hands. Sure, she's got problems… I know that much from when I saw into her network. But that doesn't mean that she has to take it out on me! Grumbling, I lobbed a horizontal line of plasma at a nearby stone column with a swing of my arm and a few scraps of Hymmnos from my lips. Superheated material splashed against the stone, burning right through it in milliseconds. Neatly bisected, the pillar toppled over with a dull thunk.
Oh… I hurried over, inspecting the devastation. The pillar's edges glowed orange, dripping into a puddle of molten rock. I should be more careful… it's not like I wanna go around breaking stuff. I couldn't really explain it. For some reason, generating plasma made me feel energized. My skin was practically seething with heat, leaving me with an incessant drive to release it.
I tapped my lip, thinking. It's nice to know that I can shape it, at least! That's probably me subconsciously manipulating the magnetic field… or something. That sounds like what Sentinel would say. I wonder what would happen if I tried feeding more energy into it, though…? A tiny smile made its way across my lips. I guess it'll be safe enough if I fire it off into the sky. Anticipation had rooted itself in my thoughts, driving my legs as I hurried back to the edge of the skydock where the Tempest was moored.
I picked a flat spot that was relatively free of rubble and clear of crevices that penetrated all the way through the platform. It hadn't been easy to do so; by the time I had found it, I was practically trembling with anticipation. The air was silent and still, puffy clouds hovering motionless beyond the spire's bulk. Perfect. I lifted my arm, reaching out to the sky. Here goes nothing…!
The lyrics tore from my throat like a gale-force wind, vowels spat out at a rapid velocity. To me, it felt like every word was pre-ordained, part of a script that I instinctively knew. All I had to do was mentally voice the intent to use it, and the resultant lyrics would flow into my mind like water.
"Was paks gaya, xe biron sphilar sheak mea,"
"Kapa fayra dest denera yor."
Please guide me, oh heart of the sun,
Your liquid flame will burn away the darkness.
Electricity arced from my fingertips, the air expanding into a glowing blue smear before my eyes. The blob of nascent plasma grew and grew, until a pulsing orb the size of my head hung in the air. Normally I would cast it at this point, but this time I maintained it. My voice only grew louder, echoing off the broken walls.
I suddenly stiffened, sensing a massive presence touching my mind. It came right from the core of my being, from a part that had been silent up until recently. Raw energy flowed from it like a conduit, rapidly flooding throughout my small frame.
Whoa! What's happeni—
EXEC_HYMME_PLASMASPHERE/.
The orb suddenly swelled to thrice its size, giving off a harsh glare that was like staring into the sun. I felt my hair stand on end, and choked on ozone… interrupting the lyrics. And yet, the song didn't falter. My voice continued to reverberate through the air, no longer born of my vocal chords. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
It was the tower, singing for me—singing in my absence. It had to be. I vaguely recalled what Sentinel had said to me, what felt like a lifetime ago. She said that song magic… didn't need actual song to be used. She was right! That means that this… is what it means to be bolstered by the tower.
"Incredible…" I whispered, fidgeting with mild discomfort at the strange prospect of having my voice come from something that wasn't myself—but an enormous wave of excitement washed over me, burying that feeling.
With a flick of my hand, the sphere of plasma shot up into the sky like a bullet. The mass had swollen to at least the size of my body thanks to all the energy it had devoured. Though, it wouldn't last. With the distance between us growing, the molten orb began to collapse. Violet clouds of residual particles trailed behind the orb as it dissipated away into nothingness, leaving streaks of color across the sky.
I was overwhelmed by elation. "That was so awesome…!" I cried out jubilantly, hopping in place with boundless energy. "The coolest ever! Mitri and Evecia would be so impressed!"
And then the feeling vanished. I came to a sudden halt, confused.
What the… I frowned, tapping my forehead. What was that? Did the song… I wasn't excited or hyper before or anything… and all of a sudden, I was! And then it just vanished…
I released a sudden gasp of realization. H-waves…! Sentinel told me that those are what make up thoughts and feelings. When I started to sing that song—PlasmaSphere—it twisted my emotions to get the proper H-wave response that would maintain the song. It forced me to experience those feelings. The concept was discomforting, to say the least.
My thoughts were rudely interrupted by the pitter-patter of falling pebbles. Dislodged rubble, somewhere nearby. Caused by someone nearby.
In the blink of an eye, I had my utility knife in hand. My gaze had locked on the burnt-out shell of a building—where the sound had come from. "W—who's there?!"
Only silence answered my call. A breath of dust drifted from one of the ground-floor windows.
"I—I know you're there!" I cried out determinedly, shuffling closer.
Wait… why am I even using this thing now? I stretched out my arm, palm facing the origin of the mysterious sound. This is way more effective.
Something shuffled in the rubble—something big. Before I could lay eyes on it, however, it barreled off into the undergrowth, the sharp crack of snapping branches following as its footsteps receded. But… I recognized those footsteps. Those heavy, metallic ones.
Experimenting, I triggered my tower sense.
Shift. New search terms; SENTINEL_aiCORE
I smirked, seeing the glowing dot that represented one of the AI's tower guardians, fleeing the scene. I knew it. She's still keeping an eye on me…
>Sentinel,< I spoke softly. >I know you're listening in, and I know you've been watching what I've been doing. Please… talk to me.<
…
It was a long time before she responded in a breathy voice. >Adminis—no, Sylphira. Sylphira, you were right. I don't deserve your trust, or your friendship, or anything…< The AI released a muffled sob, which carried over through our connection. >I—I know I'm a fucking mess, but still… it's no excuse for what I did to you. I'm really gonna try to be better, I promise…<
Without a moment's hesitation, I replied. >Sentinel, I forgive you.<
>B—but,< she sputtered bewilderedly, >h—how can you just say that so easily?! After how awful I was to you… you should hate me!<
I folded my arms, examining the path the AI had created while she fled. >Well, I mean… it's fair if I give you a second chance, isn't it? You said sorry, and you promised to do better… so it's okay!< I allowed a tint of steel to filter into my voice. >…Just so long as you meant it.<
Sentinel sniffed. >Thank you… Sylphira. I'll try.< A note of pride entered her voice. >By the way… congratulations on your first piece of true song magic!<
I blushed despite myself. >Thank you…<
There you are…
Sighting in on my target, I flung a dart. It whistled through the air… and cleanly missed its mark, thudding harmlessly into a tree trunk. The small animal I had been hunting scampered away fearfully, vanishing into the underbrush.
A vexing frown took form on my visage. That's… not normal. I haven't missed a target since that day when I was first learning how to do it!
I sighed, rising from the cluster of ferns I had been hiding in. Striding over, I retrieved the wayward projectile, giving it a thorough examination. There didn't seem to be any visible damage to the exterior, and a quick pulse of my tower sense revealed that it was still connected to the AI. From here, I couldn't detect any issues.
Maybe just… a rogue crosswind, then. Or some kind of electrical field jamming the guidance? Shrugging, I hiked through the vegetation, hopping over loose bits of rubble that had fallen from the deteriorating ruins overhead. Occasionally I saw flashes of color in the empty windows, a silhouette rushing off in a branching-off alleyway—more like ghosts than actual people. But Sentinel's words and an accidental run-in with the elderly Teru man earlier had told me otherwise.
"Aye, there're tribes o' people here," he had snorted, gazing over the derelict airships with a disapproving scowl. "Long as ye don't bother 'em, they won't bother ye. When I first got 'ere, I couldn't even talk to any of 'em; they just fled. They're fearful o' strangers like you and I."
After traversing about five hundred meters along the dock—hopefully beyond the range of that supposed electrical anomaly—I hunched down in the juniper bushes, laying in wait for prey. It wasn't long before something scurried by in the distance—something with silvery-gray feathers. The avian creature hopped along, pecking at the dirt beneath its talons. The bird vaguely resembled the chickens I'd seen in Mist's Reach, though this one was clearly more skyworthy.
Narrowing my eyes, I threw the thin metal rod. It cut through the air easily, homing on its target with uncanny accuracy… and then veered off in a wide arc at the last second, bouncing off a vine-covered wall. My quarry squawked in fear, flapping its wings wildly before vanishing into the skies above.
"Are you kidding me…?" I grumbled morosely, shuffling over to where the dart had landed. Squatting down in the dirt, I gingerly picked up the metal rod, glaring intently at the object all the while. I don't get it… There's no way that it's just a really big electrical disturbance, or Sentinel and I would've been able to feel it. And it's not wind, cause this is a sheltered area. That means it can only be…
>Sentinel, can you hear me?<
She replied distractedly, stumbling and slurring on every word. >…Oh. He… llo… Syl… phir… a. What… do… y—<
>…Sentinel, are you okay?< I quickly cut in, concerned about her wellbeing.
>Oh!< she exclaimed, suddenly flustered. >Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. I was just concentrating on other things. What's going on? Are you finished with your hunting trip already? I replenished our water supplies.<
The polished metal of the dart gleamed in the sunlight as I rolled it between my slender fingers. >Well,< I asked, >are you getting me to rely on my own skill now?<
>Um… what do you mean?< The AI sounded genuinely perplexed.
I waved the dart about. >The guidance on your… flechette thingies doesn't work anymore! They keep veering off on their own. You're messing with it to get me to do it on my own, aren't you…?<
Sentinel froze for an incredible thirty seconds, leaving me wondering if she would even answer at all. >…Yes. You've advanced to the point that you don't need me anymore. You're a real professional now!<
Her reaction was… odd, to say the least—and it didn't sound entirely truthful, either. Though it had only been two days since she'd had her mini-breakdown, and I wasn't eager to pressure her until she had another. If Sentinel didn't want to talk about why she didn't have time to manage the darts' guidance, then that was it.
>…Okay,< I said lamely, laying the issue to rest. My fingernails dug into the dart's metal casing, searching for the seam I knew was there. Locating it, I popped the tiny hatch open and disabled the automated guidance function. Easy enough, I guess…
Soon enough, I was spearing prey just as well as I had been when using the AI's guidance system. For a time I wandered through the woods, replenishing my food stocks. Sentinel had warned me that there were no more significant landmarks all the way up to the ion corridor. We wouldn't be able to stop climbing again for quite some time.
I strode into camp two hours later, dragging my catch with me. The sun had already begun its slow descent to the horizon, and by the time I finished cooking and cleaning the meat, sunset was well underway. A cool breeze heralding the approach of nightfall whipped through the camp, the canvas material of my tent rustling in tune.
Sentinel arrived minutes later, coming in on one of her tiny airborne drones. The tower guardian settled into the dirt next to my boulder, its turbine engines rapidly powering down.
"Hi there, Sentinel…!" I greeted her shyly, setting down an armful of branches and a tiny pouch of tinder into the circle of rocks that made up our fire pit.
"Hi, Sylphira…" she mumbled back, apparently deep in thought. Even though she had been calling me by my real name for the last couple days now, it still continued to throw me off. The name felt alien to me—not like Sif.
At the command of my song, the pillar of wood and stone burst into flame. The relief I felt was immediate, the coming darkness warded off and the cold held at bay.
Seating myself, I held a piece of meat on a stick over the hungry flames. "So we're leaving tomorrow… right?" At this point, we had been here for a total of four days. In that time, I'd completed what Sentinel had wanted me to do—learn song magic. While she had apologetically pointed out that I wasn't truly powerful yet, it would only be a matter of time.
"Something like that…" she murmured from atop her inert machine, listlessly staring into the fire.
I tentatively reached over… then recoiled, having second thoughts. "Sentinel… are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay…" Chastised by the brusque response, I turned my eyes elsewhere, struggling to stare at anything but her. Funnily enough—as different as I'd originally thought we were—we shared one obvious character trait, though the AI's was buried deep. By nature, we were both extremely timid. It didn't exactly make for the most interesting small talk between us, but I didn't mind. I could have stared up at the stars in silence for hours, just imagining what lay in wait out there.
Hours had passed before Sentinel spoke, just as I had been debating on heading to bed. "…Wanna try out one of those new pieces of song magic?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed eagerly, bolting upright.
Over the last three days I had practiced my song incessantly between meals, both under my own strength and while bolstered by Asciydria Tower… and though PlasmaSphere—the sole 'true' song in my arsenal—was powerful, it was the only one I had. While the AI had reassured me that there were more, she had also brought up my condition—whether I would be able to emotionally handle the sheer amount of energy pouring into my soul.
Sentinel had explained it to me two days ago. "I can't really speak from personal experience… but song magic is all about emotions, not raw power. The more you feel, the more powerful your songs will be. To become truly powerful, you need to discipline yourself and control your feelings. That's especially important for when you get around to more advanced songs, which require a tighter focus and more complex emotions simultaneously. We don't know yet if your disconnection attacks will disrupt that, just like what happened when you first tried to sing the Extract."
Having learned that, I sought to utilize song magic whenever I could, determined to master the flow of my emotions—hence the nonstop training sessions over the last three days. And just this morning, something from the core of my being—the conduit which I had since realized was my tower connection—had emerged.
SYLPHIRA_ANSUL_ASCIYDRIA ———————— You have 2 new message(s).
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION // Song magic directory updated. New recommended command(s) added!
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION // Warning! Abnormal levels of wave activity detected in unit's triangular nuclear loop. Please see a technician at your assigned maintenance bay as soon as possible.
>> Song Magic Directory (default commands):
———————————————————————————————————
EXEC_HYMME_ENERGY=BALL/.
EXEC_HYMME_PLASMASPHERE/.
EXEC_HYMME_SOUL=LIGHT/.
EXEC_HYMME_ERASER=BARRAGE/.
> Show further commands (1016 remaining)
>> Song Magic Directory (unique modifier):
Note: The EXEC_SHIFT modifier is unique to the Asciydria Tower SH server and cannot be used elsewhere. EXEC_SHIFT commands are far more fluid than default commands, and can be altered dynamically by the user mid-song to suit the changing battlefield. Hide this message in future Y/N?
———————————————————————————————————
EXEC_SHIFT_DIMENSIONLANCE/.
EXEC_SHIFT_NULLGRAV/.
EXEC_SHIFT_BREAKERSTORM/.
EXEC_SHIFT_HYDROSTORM/.
> Show further commands (16 remaining)
>> Song Magic Directory (Extract commands):
———————————————————————————————————
Error: File(s) corrupted.
My eyes had widened with pure shock, faced with the prospect of having access to over one thousand songs. Oh god… t—there's so many!
Needless to say, I was bouncing with excitement at the time… though there had been a flicker of horror, gnawing at the back of my mind. I couldn't help but notice that most of them sounded like songs designed to maim or kill—as if I were made to be some kind of weapon. The odd warning notification had left me mystified, too.
Abnormal waves… what does that mean?
"What's this one called, anyway?" the AI queried.
"DimensionLance…" I replied vaguely, eyes squeezed shut. I had descended beneath a veil of concentration, allowing me to aim my tower sense at myself. After all—as much as it unnerved me—I was a part of Asciydria, and it was a part of me.
This was something new for me. Though I had utilized PlasmaSphere countless times already, it had originally activated by accident. After that, it was a simple matter to replicate the thoughts and feelings I had experienced at the time. I didn't know what it was like to cast something new.
"Any luck?" Sentinel posed.
"Shh!" I grumbled, huffing. "Just… lemme concentrate…"
A distant siren call sprung from the night air, echoing around us. It stemmed from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. No… it wasn't an echo—an echo of an echo, perhaps. Faint, almost undetectable… but without a doubt, mine.
I smiled. Gotcha.
EXEC_SHIFT_DIMENSIONLANCE/.
A gaping hole opened up directly above my head, blacker than the starry sky. A strong wind snatched at my clothing as the local atmosphere was sucked through the portal, into the vacuum which must have awaited on the other side… wherever that was.
But it wasn't a one-way street. Something came out.
With an unearthly howl, an object viciously tore its way out of the rift between dimensions. Its conical shaft shone with light, polished white flanks sparking with electricity. Four thrusters on the object's rear ignited with a deep rumble that resonated in my bones.
I know that shape…!
The AI blinked slowly, frozen in horror. "…No way. Nooooo way! REALLY?!<
I grinned stupidly, staring up at it with jubilation in my heart. It's nice to see you again…
An ethereal clone of my old friend—none other than the fabled rocket lance that had enabled us to escape the silvaplate—hung in the air, phasing in and out of reality
"You're shitting meeeee…" Sentinel groaned, burying her face within the folds of her robe. "This is just a really dumb nightmare, right? You did not just pull out a copy of that useless… spear thing!"
"The rocket lance is back for good!" I cried out gleefully, waving it around. At my touch, it solidified into an exact duplicate of the one I had used before. The massive object was utterly weightless to me.
A familiar voice spoke from the gloom. "I… I shoulda known right from th' start…"
Sentinel and I spun around in unison. My lance tumbled from my grasp, slipping through my fingers as it flickered out of this plane.
Sam was there, barely visible in the light of the campfire. His green eyes shone with wonder. The man looked like he had grown twenty years younger.
"…Well then," Sentinel breathed, shrugging helplessly.
The elderly man stepped forward, eyes locked on mine. I backed up frantically, pressing my spine against the crumbling hangar wall. He continued to approach until he was standing over me, staring down with tears leaking down his cheeks.
"…Hi, Sam…" I coughed awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
"I shoulda known…" he mumbled, repeating himself. "When I saw you from afar on th' first day, I had a flicker o' suspicion… but then I realized that yer age was wrong, and yer hair was different…" He shook his head wearily, cap falling low over his forehead. "I… I see it now."
Sam lifted his head, eyes shining with an inner fire. "Sif… yer th' Sleeping Goddess—none other than Tower Administrator Sylphira…!"
The Teru man dropped to his knees, groveling at my feet.
"…Oh dear," I uttered feebly.
The last traces of daylight had bled from the starry sky when Sentinel finally spoke up.
"We've reached the first waystation. Let's stop here for the night."
I yelped, bumping into the AGRA-NX's hindquarters; the machine had come to a sudden and jarring halt, taking me by surprise. It didn't help that it was almost pitch-black out. Many of the stars above were blotted out by Asciydria's sheer bulk, and the moons hadn't yet risen.
"Hey, don't touch my butt!" the AI cried out, giggling to herself. This was all just a joke to her.
"I can't see…" I complained, blindly flailing about. I was having trouble making out my own fingers in the darkness.
"Let's shed some light on the subject, shall we?" The Type-14—or what I assumed was the Type-14, due to the metallic whine of its servomotors—lumbered past, footsteps receding into the murky darkness ahead. With a sudden pulse, the area was bathed in fluorescent light.
I had expected more from a so-called waystation—structures and the like. A place for the laborers of old to sleep and eat at. Yet the crescent-shaped platform jutting out from the tower wall was devoid of manmade structures. Large enough for three Alto fighters parked nose-to-nose, the waystation was carpeted in a thick layer of moss and lichen and hosted several dozen hardy cedar trees and juniper bushes. The center of the platform sloped down into a shallow bowl, filled with crystal clear water and overgrown with reeds. The small pond teemed with life. It made sense; this must have been one of the few spots on the spire's clifflike wall where aquatic life could flourish.
Pretty… I shuffled forward, captivated. What had once been a barren and soulless waystation had become a sort of miniature forest over the long centuries.
Pushing my way through the bushes, I stumbled across a small clearing amongst the overgrowth… and I gasped in shock when I spotted the charred remains of a campfire at the center. Surrounded by a circle of bricks and filled with blackened logs and piles of ash, the fire pit looked like it was less than a month old.
"Sentinel…!" I cried out fearfully.
"What is it, administrator?" The AGRA-NX's enormous head pushed its way through the line of vegetation, flooding the glade in harsh light. The Type-14 was right behind it.
The AI paused. "Oh. Just a campfire. What's got you jumpy?"
I pointed at the fire pit, trembling. "T—there's other p—people up here…"
Sentinel tilted her head, perplexed. "Um… yeah? So what? It's not like Mist's Reach is the only place where humans live. It's just the largest and most organized settlement on Asciydria. You run into smaller enclaves and traveling nomads all the time up here."
"Oh…" I mumbled, blood returning to my face.
"This should be a great place to set up camp. There's just enough space to park both of my tower guardians, and there'll still be room for your tent and bedroll, too!"
Glancing around uncertainly, I lowered my guard just a little. "Are you sure it's safe…?"
She snorted incredulously. "Administrator, look at me. I'm the meanest, scariest thing on the entire tower. We'll be fine."
"…Okay." I released a shaky breath, making my way over towards the Type-14 and the camping equipment stowed away in its saddlebags.
It didn't take too long to set up camp, and I was glad of that. Even though we had only been climbing for a few hours, my calves were already hotly voicing their protest. Deadwood for the fire was plentiful amongst the nearby vegetation. With the help of Sentinel's machines, I dragged a block of rubble in front of the fire pit to act as a sort of chair, making it more comfortable with the application of spare blankets and my bedroll. After rearranging the circle of bricks and setting up my pop-tent with the pull of a ripcord, our camp was set up.
I ate dinner in front of the fire, buried in my makeshift seat. One hand was wrapped tightly around my teddy bear, warding off the eerie animalistic cries in the dark. The other roasted a piece of meat on a skewer over the crackling flames.
A sigh of contentment escaped my lips. A hard day's work, come to a close. A chance to rest my tired body and eat something delicious.
If I really don't need to eat or sleep, why's Sentinel letting me stop for the night, anyway? I posed the query to the AI, who paced back and forth through the air. Her tower guardians stood motionless at the far end of the glade, running on minimal power.
"You're welcome," she replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "This much physical activity is new to you. You'll need a period of time before the biofluid making up your corporeal form rearranges itself to adapt, resulting in a body with stronger muscles and greater endurance. Until that happens, though, we'll have to stop every so often to allow you to rest and recuperate, lest you hurt yourself."
"Is that it…?" I pressed.
The AI looked uncomfortable. "It's… unsafe to travel at these lower altitudes after nightfall. There are many nocturnal avian predators that call Asciydria home, and many of them roost in the lower levels of the main shaft. Fire scares them off, so we'll be safe."
I gulped, swallowing hard. Casting a hesitant glance at the starry sky, I almost expected to see a winged and leathery creature swooping down to devour me. "Um… would it be safer if we hid inside the tower, then?"
Sentinel brayed a laugh. "Really? After getting out only a few hours ago and seeing the conditions in there, you want to go back? If it were me, I wouldn't trust the ceilings to not flat-out collapse. A cave-in probably isn't the nicest thing to wake up to."
"Mmh…" I conceded to her point, casting my eyes down. With a hiss and pop of seared meat, my dinner announced to the camp that it was ready for consumption. I dug in happily, savoring the meal. Prepared beforehand by Evecia, it was proof that even up here, on my own, I could still count on her and Mitri—my family.
I stared into the fire pit, watching the blue-tinged streaks where the flames were at their hottest. "Sentinel… now that we're here, off on our own, can you tell me about the Grathnode Inferia?"
The AI nodded calmly, eyes locking on mine. "About time you asked. What do you know about it already?"
"Um…" I bit my lip, recalling what little I'd picked up on. "You said that it was a lot worse than Seven Bloodstains… and that it was when the old world died, right?"
Sentinel inclined her head. "That's the gist of it, yes. It was an apocalyptic event of unfathomable scale, obliterating Ar Ciel's land and sky." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can you guess which tower was responsible for it?"
I rolled my eyes skeptically. "Was it really Ar Tonelico again…?"
"It was. Granted, this time it wasn't their idiotic actions that led to it. The Grathnode Inferia was actually triggered because of the actions of Sol Cluster vigilantes."
I gasped. "Wait, wha…"
She peered at me. "Remember Syestine, the region that was destroyed in the eruption that was Seven Bloodstains?"
"Well yeah, b—but…"
"In a way, I can understand their feelings," the AI continued nonchalantly. "Ar Tonelico destroyed their homeland, their families. And so, the few survivors that made it out alive plotted vengeance."
"They would have tried to destroy Ar Tonelico, then…" I surmised, deep in thought.
"Syestine's avengers—members of a demihuman enclave known as the Teru tribe—did exactly that. Their members stealthily made their way to Ar Tonelico, aiming to silence it… for good."
And it all went wrong…
"And it all went wrong," Sentinel spoke on, voicing my thoughts perfectly. "The Teru made their way up through Ar Tonelico's innards, eventually reaching the tower's symphonic reactor. Once there, they severed all of the symphonic power lines—the leads that connect Ar Tonelico's upper systems to its lower systems. The action completely destroyed the spire's ability to regulate its own power levels."
The AI gave me a hawk-like stare. "Administrator, do you happen to know what grathnode is? What it does?"
"Um…" I scratched my temple, bringing all memories where grathnode was mentioned to the forefront. "It's… some kind of crystal, right? It's an important tower component, and there's also a bunch of it in my body."
She nodded. "That's right. Grathnode is a special crystal widely known for its unique property—the ability to amplify waves that pass through it, releasing them in a stronger form. Grathnode is a key component within Asciydria's core systems, crucial to the process of amplifying song magic. The tower's grathnode discs are what grant songs the bulk of their strength."
Grathnode discs… I couldn't help but think of those structures that I saw from the Apex—that beautiful pair of shimmering rainbow disks, spinning eternally in the frozen sky.
"In fact," Sentinel pointed out, "that necklace of yours is made of grathnode. See the pendant and those smaller flecks in the beads? The rainbow coloring is a sure sign of the stuff."
"W—wait, really?" I quickly unfastened the necklace, holding it in front of my eyes. The fractal shards of grathnode shone like fire. Wow…
"Continuing on, though," the AI said, tossing a small stick into the hungry flames. The sight was strangely funny; due to her tiny stature, she was unable to carry much. "Severing the power lines trapped Ar Tonelico in a feedback loop, its systems producing more and more symphonic power without any way to release it." She spoke grimly. "At that point, it was only a matter of time until the energy forcibly discharged."
"And then…?" I pressed.
"And then," she snapped her fingers, "the old world came to an abrupt end. You remember what happened during Seven Bloodstains, the widespread devastation that irreparably damaged Ar Ciel? Well… take that original ignition of energy, then multiply it by about fourteen hundred billion. That'll give you about a tenth of the pulse that was released from Ar Tonelico on that day."
Sentinel's face looked gray, her glassy eyes staring off into the distance. It was pretty clear to me that the Grathnode Inferia was an event that she remembered somewhat. "I'm exaggerating of course, but it's no joke how much power was unleashed. When Ar Tonelico's grathnode discs finally erupted, the majority of the energy was directed straight down, into the ground."
"Oh no…" I breathed, seeing exactly where this was going.
"For the second time in less than a decade, Ar Ciel's mantle was penetrated by another wave of symphonic power… though this one was magnitudes stronger. When this pulse met the cracked planetary core… it collapsed in on itself, crushed into dust."
"No…" I gaped at her, wide-eyed.
"And not only that," the AI continued, pointing up at the starry sky. "With the eruption of symphonic power, Ar Tonelico's grathnode discs shattered, sending a cloud of deadly shrapnel in all directions. Not only that, it dumped an unquantifiable amount of superheated plasma into the upper atmosphere, which eventually spread across the globe." She maintained her gaze upwards. "And that's how the Blastline was created—a roiling sea of plasma in the sky."
"But what about the core?!" I cried, leaping to my feet. "How can a planet even survive without a core?!"
She gave me a hard look. "It can't."
Suddenly drained, I slumped back into my makeshift chair. "So when you said that the world was ending… you really did mean it, huh. That Ar Ciel was coming apart at the seams… because of the planet's core."
"That's right," she confirmed. "Exactly right. Without a core, it's only a matter of time until the planet runs out of energy. Entropy demands it. Once all the remaining residual D-waves in the mantle have dissipated, Ar Ciel will cease to exist."
And that's all gonna happen in ten years or less… I thought of Mitri, of Evecia, of Serafi. How Mitri likely wouldn't live long enough to experience adulthood, or marriage. A profound worry blossomed in my chest.
"But this story isn't over yet," the AI surged onward. "The moment that Ar Ciel's core collapsed, the planet's crust began to splinter, opening fissures several kilometers deep. And from those fissures, a strange white mist began to emerge. A poisonous and corrosive mist, one that killed anything it touched, including machines.
"It was called the Sea of Death."
That simple title, now empowered by its terrifying origin, sent a tingle down my spine.
The AI cast her gaze down, pressing her tiny hands together. "And so, the story ends. It took a few decades for the Sea of Death to consume the entire surface, but when all was said and done, the only parts of Ar Ciel that rose above the toxic clouds were the tallest mountains and the amplification towers. Humans, Teru, every bit of plant and animal life, all driven to the very brink of extinction."
The fire pit crackled suddenly, making me jump. "And that's how the old world of Ar Ciel came to a tragic end—with death in the ground, and fire in the sky." She fell silent, watching the stars.
The nighttime tranquility was suddenly broken by the unsettling echo of that strange pipe organ once more, sounding mournfully off into the vast distance. Bats circled above, their leathery wingbeats merging with the gentle sigh of the wind to form an unearthly orchestra, the likes of which I'd never heard.
Despite the AI's solemn retelling of the past, I couldn't help but feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Something deep inside my soul wanted me to join, to add my voice to this ensemble.
So, while staring into the flames, I did.
I began to hum idly, a simple tune resolving in my head. My music had drawn the AI's attention, but I paid her no mind. My foot tapped gently to the rhythm. The tune growing ever more complex, I began to mumble lyrics—lyrics sung in a language lost to me, yet one that I somehow innately knew. It was as much a part of me as my thoughts, my memories, my emotions. It was integral to my very soul.
"Fou ki ra idesy erphy mea,"
"Fayra ware tanta spiritum."
While I remember those of the past,
I dance with the flames of their souls.
And then a dim orange light ignited in my unsuspecting lap.
Startled, I realized that a tiny orb of flame—no bigger than a plum—had been birthed in my palms, pulsing warmly with life and radiance. The mote of light flickered and wavered, twisting itself into geometric shapes in response to my voice.
My eyes locked on Sentinel, disbelief written all over my face even as I maintained my song. The AI gazed back with a smile, giving a subtle nod of approval. "You're learning."
We broke camp at first light, when beads of dew clung to the tent canopy and the birds hadn't yet awoken. I shivered in the cool morning air, exhaling puffs of white mist.
The gray sky was empty of clouds as Sentinel and I began our ascent once more, maintaining our usual formation. The AGRA-NX took the front, its wickedly-sharp horn leading the way. The Type-14, our cargo carrier, brought up the rear. I hugged the tower wall between the two hulking machines, my fingers gliding along its engraved surface.
As the day progressed, the conditions began to deteriorate. An icy wind picked up, chilling me to the bone. The sky grew angry, and churning clouds as black as coal rolled in.
At first, I had been worried due to the advancing cloud wall. Sentinel, however, reassured me that the incoming stormclouds were relatively harmless.
"The Sea of Death only hugs Ar Ciel's surface," she explained. "We're completely safe up here… at least from the poison, that is. No comment on the lightning."
Though with the stormy clouds came a cold, driving rain that slowed our pace to a crawl and left us drenched. I hunched over, hood pulled up, cloak gathered around me as best I could while we ascended the slippery steps. Rainwater cascaded down the stairway, forcing me to wade endlessly upwards through what felt like a river. I could hardly see ten steps in front of me, the mists obscuring my vision.
As the wind grew louder, wailing like a banshee, as lightning began to flare up and thunder shattered the sky, our party was forced to come to a halt. Thanks to Sentinel's echolocation, we managed to find a weathered notch in the tower wall that was barely large enough for a child; luckily, my small physical stature fit the bill perfectly.
I sat wedged in the narrow alcove, dripping water, teeth chattering. There wasn't even enough room for a fire, and I was loath to take Cuddles out and expose him to the pervasive dampness. The AI's tower guardians waited outside, completely motionless in the tempest.
Sentinel spoke in my mind, unwilling to even try shouting over the thunder. >A storm this bad has to mean that the ion corridor's acting up again. This much wind and rain isn't good for the outer dividing wall's surface.<
>Or for me…< I whimpered miserably, curled up in a ball to preserve what little warmth I had left. Hot tears mixed with icy rainwater on my cheeks.
The squall wore on until the next morning, leaving me with cramps and stiff joints as I hobbled back into the daylight. Met with the warmth of the morning sun, I couldn't help but give a tired smile. But despite my discomfort, there was no time for rest. Sentinel, ever the harsh taskmistress, drove me onwards and upwards.
Over the next several days, Sentinel and I had to make our way through the tower's decaying interior on two more occasions. We had no choice; huge swaths of the mighty staircase had fallen into the abyss, leaving nothing but twisted metal struts jutting out from the curved surface. And true to the amount of time it had taken us to traverse the silvaplate, the two of us were left wandering back and forth in the darkness for days. Though, as I grew more adept with my new 'tower sense'—as I'd taken to calling it—our progression through those dark and gloomy stretches began to accelerate.
Even so, it took us almost a week to reach the first major landmark beyond the silvaplate.
"If this keeps up, it'll take us a month just to reach the prome wall!" the AI groused in the dark, clearly less than satisfied with the speed of our progress. I remained silent, eyes locked on a smudge of vibrant green that lay at the end of the narrow passageway.
At last we emerged from the stale and murky innards of Asciydria, dazzled by the brilliant light of the afternoon sun. I squinted, raising an arm to shield my face.
My eyes widened. "What… is this place?"
Sentinel and I stood at the end of a four-laned road, its asphalt surface shattered into millions of smaller slabs. Roots, ferns, and saplings burst up from crevices in the street, uprooting guardrails and rusted-out streetlights. The muted trickle of flowing water—a nearby stream—echoed from somewhere amidst the greenery, proof that this place was alive and flourishing. With so much water and vegetation, I wasn't surprised to hear the sounds of small animals scurrying about in the underbrush.
It was an entire city, long since abandoned and forgotten.
On both sides of the street, the husks of tall buildings loomed, completely reclaimed by nature. Many of them slumped over, ominously leaning into the road. Several more had collapsed, leaving nothing but heaps of rubble strewn everywhere. And others miraculously still remained upright, though were crushed and mangled in the grasp of gigantic tree roots. I turned my gaze upwards, stunned to learn that all the roots were part of the same organism—a massive amalgamation of trees that loomed over the entire city like a guardian, shadowing all beneath its leafy canopy. It must have been almost a kilometer tall, with a similar width. Its trunk was thicker than the girthiest building. Beyond that viridian ceiling, the orbiting plates of the ion corridor seemed closer than ever before. And beyond that lay only sky.
I was transfixed by the ruins' surreal beauty.
"This place you're seeing," the AI replied serenely, "is Asciydria Tower's secondary skydock. It's a large structure that juts out horizontally from the spire's main shaft. And yeah, I know, it's a boring name for such a cool place. Anyway, commercial airships too large to safely navigate through the airspace in proximity to the primary skydock—all the way up in Section B—berth down here for the exchange of cargo, standard maintenance operations, or even full hull refits."
"Mmh…" I murmured, following the root networks with my eyes. Something itched in the back of my mind; I couldn't help but feel like we were being watched. Though, anyone would be jumpy in a place like this—pretty or otherwise.
The two of us carefully made our way along the mossy road, which ever-so-slightly sloped downward. A narrow stream cut its way through the center of the pavement, guiding us through the ruins. Sentinel's tower guardians shattered the brittle tarmac with every heavy footfall, kicking up dust and leaves. Every step would release a dull metallic thud, echoing amongst the twisted architecture.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I inhaled long and hard, eyes shining. The air was clean and fresh, filled with the earthy scent of petrichor that could only be caught shortly after a heavy rainfall. Leaves fell like snowflakes from the gargantuan tree overhead, carpeting every flat surface. Shafts of sunlight filtered down through the viridian canopy, dotting the tranquil place with pools of light.
I clasped the necklace at my collarbone, recalling what Evecia had said about travel—seeing new sights that you'd never previously imagined. Stuff like this is what you meant, huh…
The skyscrapers began to thin out as we made our way down the street, replaced with enormous warehouses and hangars that had seen better days. The pavement ahead was crisscrossed with rails, tracks for construction cranes scattered across the area. The enormous moveable structures now looked like desiccated skeletons, rotted out and covered with patches of lichen. Leafy vines snaked around their framework, slowly but surely pulling them apart. Large cargo containers lay strewn about like discarded toys, slowly melting away into rust under the elements. The hulking carcasses of derelict airships lurked amongst the cranes, some bigger than houses.
We walked further down the length of the secondary skydock, where the ground became marred with deep fissures revealing only sky below. Up ahead, something revealed itself amidst the forest of hangars, fuel tanks, and decaying husks of airships.
"It's gigantic…" I whispered, blankly staring up at the entity's sun-bleached flanks.
It was the airship that I'd seen from below when I first gazed up at Asciydria Tower. Seeing it from a distance was one thing… but up close, there was no question in my mind that the airborne vessel was as big as a mountain. The entirety of Mist's Reach could have fit comfortably within its cavernous hull, canyon and all. It hung over the abyss beyond the edge of the skydock, tethered to the spire by rusted mooring clamps and ensnaring roots from the tree above. Combined, they ensured without a doubt that the airship would never ply the skies again.
The vessel dwarfed every structure on the skydock, its mountainous flanks rising above the tallest skyscraper. It vaguely resembled one of the darts I'd used while hunting—narrow, sleek, and bristling with control surfaces. Large fins protruded from the vessel's nose and tail. The airship's skin—once stretched taut and glistening silver—was flayed in places, exposing the vessel's steel rib cage. Loose panels of fabric flapped in the breeze. The remainder of the airship's surface area was carpeted with moss. Through the vegetation that had sprung up across it, I could still make out traces of delicate gold filigree.
Beyond the derelict vessel lay only sky, stretching all the way to the horizon and beyond. Below, the Isles of Aria drifted on the cloud tops. I'd hoped that I'd be able to see Mist's Reach from up here; I couldn't deny the ache of homesickness in my gut. Though from this vantage point, I could only see the other side of the floating landmasses, opposite the human settlement. The wreckage of Sphilar Prism gleamed in the distance, catching the afternoon sunlight.
Awed by the incredible view, I spun around slowly to take it all in. "It's… beautiful!" A frown crossed my face. "Wait… um, Sentinel, we didn't need to come out here to continue climbing, did we? I mean, if this juts out from the tower, then we can't…" I gestured upwards, shrugging helplessly.
"Your powers of observation never cease to impress," she uttered sarcastically, rolling her gray eyes. At this point, she had performed the gesture so much that it was a miracle her eyeballs hadn't rolled right out of her skull yet. "No, we don't need to come out here to continue upward. But there is one thing we need to do, so go ahead and set up camp! We'll be here for a few days, after all." Driving her point home, her Type-14 tower guardian dropped all of its bags at my feet.
Taking the hint, I scooped up the first bag. I grunted with exertion, struggling under its weight. "Nnng! Wh—why did we… come out here… then?"
Traces of a smile resolved on the AI's childlike face. "Because there's something you need to do. Sure, you've dabbled in this subject, but it's about time you learned it in its entirety. Tonight, you become a Reyvateil in full. Tonight, you learn song magic."
Mmmh… I gingerly leaned forward, reaching out to touch the airship's frayed skin. It looked so fragile; I was amazed that it had held together for as long as it did. Even so, it was obvious by its condition that this vessel was only half the age of the rest of the tower. Comparatively, this thing was a recent arrival.
>Administrator?< Sentinel's voice called from the boundaries of my mind. >The sun's getting real low. We'll start this off as soon as the campfire is lit. I can't say I know much about actually pulling off song magic, since I lack the ability to create it, but I'll do what I can with the knowledge I have. Where are you?<
I hesitantly drew back, boots scuffing on the grooved metal floor. >I'm just… um, checking out that really big airship. I'll be over in a minute!<
>…Right. Take your time.< Her presence faded.
More than a little excited at the prospect of learning literal magic, I debated for a moment whether to return immediately.
…Nah. Just one more minute… I wanna see what these markings are.
I leaned forward once again, scraping clumps of moss from the derelict airship's hull with my fingernails. Faded streaks of paint revealed themselves, exposing some kind of elaborate coat of arms—along with the vessel's name.
S.C.V. Tempest --- CVU 041
Neo Elemia, Sol Ciel Alliance
Commissioned in 3405
Beneath the airship's information lay its emblem—a beautiful pair of white wings encircling a golden halo. Rising up through the center of the ring was something that looked like some kind of tower, but I wasn't completely certain.
However, I was certain of one thing.
…What the heck is a Sol Ciel vessel doing here? I could understand if it was back from before the Grathnode Inferia, seven centuries ago… but this airship is only three hundred years old!
It was then that I noticed that many of the tears in the vessel's outer hull seemed… off. They didn't look like they'd all been created through centuries of wind and rain. Many of them were perfectly circular, leaving the silvery skin around them singed.
…Someone shot at this airship! Bewildered, I craned my neck. There were dozens of them—no, hundreds. In the process of landing here, the vessel had taken an incredible beating.
I wonder if Sentinel knows what happened? Making my way back along the boarding ramp, I returned to solid ground. Now that I was aware of the centuries-old fight, I could see the signs—decay that wasn't actually decay. Burn marks on the walls, craters in the deck that punched all the way through the aerial dock. A rusty shell casing clinked beneath the sole of my boot.
Whatever had happened here three hundred years ago was an all-out war.
Sentinel will know, I bet. Still, though… it's so weird. Shrugging, unable to glean anything else from the ruins, I began the short trek back to camp.
Though one other thing tugged at my mind—the misspelling in the vessel's point of origin.
El Elemia… it's supposed to be El Elemia. That was the seat of power for Sol Ciel. So… what's Neo Elemia? Is it just a spelling mistake, a different name for the same place… or something else entirely?
Only the setting sun answered my query.
The twin moons had risen above the horizon when I finally arrived back at the campsite. It wasn't far from the derelict airship, but the crumbling dock made hiking treacherous. I had to watch my step, lest I find myself going for a second base jump off the spire.
I had erected my tent outside the doors of a collapsed hangar, sheltered beneath a copse of cedars that had grown wild with the absence of their gardeners. Sentinel had suggested digging a trench around the area to keep the rain out, and putting up a few blankets on the windward side of the camp to fend off the sky's glacial breath. I had done both.
My boots scraping on the cracked asphalt, I rounded the corner of the dilapidated hangar. I noted that the campfire had already been lit, the flickering light like a beacon for small airborne wildlife. Bats flitted overhead on leathery wings, preying on insects drawn by the light.
"Sentinel… are you there?" I called out, peering into the gloom beyond the flames. The AI and her proxy tower guardians were nowhere to be seen.
"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, popping into existence near my tent. "Administrator, there you are." She sat on the curved fuselage of a smaller tower guardian, the flying unit having been deposited there by its Type-14 carrier. The other drone—as well as the two quadrupedal machines—were nowhere to be seen.
I gave the tiny figure a curious look. "Sentinel, where's the rest of your stuff…?"
"I have them out on patrol," she replied, thumbing into the darkness outside of the camp. "I've detected familiar heat signatures all over the area—human life signs. There's no question that people still live here, and I don't want them getting too curious about our presence." A smile tugged at her lips. "If they try and ambush us, I'll give them a scare to last a hundred lifetimes… or worse. Anyway, are you ready to learn some song magic?"
"Song magic, y'say?" an unknown voice called from the shadows.
Sentinel and I both shrieked in unison, leaping into the air. The AI composed herself first; her eyes flashed. In that moment, I knew that the AGRA-NX was circling back at full speed.
The mysterious figure shuffled into view at the edge of the camp. Their lean body was hidden from sight by a cloak made from colorful textiles, tattered and frayed at the edges. The rusted barrel of some kind of rifle protruded through folds in the fabric; though it seemed like the firearm was at rest, slung over the figure's shoulder.
The entity raised two gloved hands, gruffly speaking in a deep and scratchy voice that was unmistakably male. "Now, listen 'ere. I don't want no trouble, I just want to talk. I can help y—"
Crack!
An enormous white blur barreled out of the foliage, its teeth gleaming in the light of the flames. The stranger shouted with surprise as the tower guardian pounced, knocking him to the mossy ground. In the blink of an eye, Sentinel had the man pinned beneath the crushing weight of her most fearsome machine.
>DON'T. MOVE.< Sentinel growled.
"I said I don't want no trouble…" the man grumbled, struggling to get free. His face was obscured by a cap and ragged muffler.
>IDENTIFY YOURSELF,< she barked coldly. The AGRA-NX lowered its head, coming nose to nose with her captive. The man didn't even flinch. >NOW!<
"Sam," he groaned, writhing in pain as the AI put more pressure on him. "Sam Noakes…"
"Sentinel!" I cried out, scrambling over. "You're hurting him! He just wants to help…"
The metal monstrosity whipped its head around, glaring at me with glowing eyes. >This is not the time to be trusting of a complete stranger. He's dangerous, administrator! He's not one of your precious friends from Mist's Reach, this is a fully-grown human!<
"Not… human…" the man gasped raggedly.
That gave the AI pause. >…Really?< she uttered thoughtfully—though not letting off on the pressure.
…That does it. She's gonna break his arms if this keeps up. Squaring my shoulders, I marched forward, going nose-to-nose with the gargantuan machine. It could effortlessly kill me. It could headbutt me, swat me aside, blast me with the devious armaments the AI had no doubt squirrelled away into its chassis. But it wouldn't. Sentinel had made that point abundantly clear; she could not willingly harm me.
"Sentinel," I whispered harshly, trying to mask my timid nature. "I am Tower Administrator Sylphira. So please…" I exhaled sharply, "back off. That's an order."
I could have cut the resultant tension with a knife.
>Administrator…" the AI breathed, disbelief evident in her voice. Her tower guardian visibly flinched, averting its eyes.
The machine backed down.
I dropped to my knees, helping the stranger up. He grunted his thanks, massaging his forearms. They'd been crushed beneath the AGRA-NX's forelegs. I'm so sorry, Sentinel… I didn't wanna have to do that. I wasn't even sure if it would work!
"Thanks, girl," the man said, his voice muffled behind layers of fabric. "Didn't think I'd be survivin' a close encounter with th' guardians. What'd ye say to drive 'er off?"
I froze, mind drawing a blank. I hadn't anticipated this part. I had helped him because I believed that it was the right thing to do. But now? I had no idea what to say, what to share and what to conceal. But I was certain of at least one thing; I wasn't eager to receive anymore undeserved goddess treatment.
"She's… my friend," I stammered, looking away. "She listens to me."
"…Why did you come here? What do you want from us?" Sentinel queried from the far side of the clearing, voice seething with suspicious hatred. Her holographic form refused to meet my gaze.
The man who called himself Sam pulled aside his muffler, revealing a haggard face that must have seen sixty or seventy years. His wrinkled skin was pockmarked and weathered, the kind of skin only found on one who had spent a lifetime outdoors. His green eyes, sunken deep into his skull, glittered with furtive intelligence. A thin layer of gray stubble covered his gaunt cheeks, and tufts of silvery hair protruded from beneath his cap.
He glared at the AI, rising to his full height. "I hail from Lyra Village. I came 'ere to inspect th' airships, and got trapped when that damnable energy shield came up a couple weeks back."
The prome wall, I realized.
Sentinel laughed bitterly. "Yeah, sure. Lyra Village doesn't even exist anymore! Dai destroyed it hundreds of years ago." Her eyes flashed. "You'll have to lie better than that, Teru."
…Wait, this guy's a Teru? I blinked slowly, perplexed. I kinda expected something… different-looking. Sentinel said that these guys were demihuman, right?
Sam shrugged, his emotions unreadable. "I'm livin' proof that it's perfectly fine. Lyra Village has ne'er been livelier, I'll have y'know."
"That's… not possible…" she breathed, shaking her head vigorously. "It's not… I'd know…"
I hesitantly stayed out of the conversation, utterly lost. Dai? Lyra Village? What the heck… it's like I've entered a whole new world again, with a whole new set of terms.
"Well, yer wrong," Sam replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I saw yer fire, and overheard what the two of ye were discussin'." His viridian eyes fixed on me. "You. What's yer name, girl?"
"S—Sif…" I stammered weakly.
"I see." Sam's eyes locked on the teddy bear that sat at my feet. "Where're yer parents?" The Teru man examined me carefully. "Ye look to be… seven? No, eight years old. Yer too young to be off on yer own like this." He crackled his bony knuckles. "It's dangerous for a kid up 'ere."
"I—I came up here from Mist's Reach to save the tower—for my friends and family," I stated determinedly, deigning to tell the truth at least this once. "If Sentinel and I work together, nothing can stop us…!"
The Teru cocked his head, smiling slightly. "That's quite th' journey ye've taken up for one so young—and it's actually why I came down 'ere, looking for airworthy vessels at th' request o' my tribe. I'm bettin' that th' art of song magic would be invaluable for yer trip; that is, if yer seekin' it." The elderly man leaned closer, eyes gleaming in the light of the flames. "It's a lost art. With th' extinction of th' singers of old, many songs have been lost to time itself." He thumped his chest proudly. "My tribe's village is th' last bastion of singers—th' only place left in this world where it's still taught."
"And you're just gonna teach her? Sure," Sentinel spat angrily, struggling with herself. As strong as the AI was, her sheer force of will was unable to overcome her ironclad programming. I had given her an order, and she could not disobey it. "Maybe you've got her suckered in, but I don't buy it. What's your angle? What do you get out of all this?"
"Ah. Well…" the man shrugged helplessly, sinking onto a boulder next to the blazing campfire. "It's like I said. Th' old ways are dyin'. Perhaps that's how it's meant to be. But I won't just sit quietly and let it fade into th' darkness." Determination resolved within the creases in his face. "If I can pass what I know onto the next generation—and to a human at that—maybe I can coax a couple more centuries out o' it before th' art dies out for good."
He thinks I'm a human…! I realized with a jolt. I mean… I guess that's fine. If I told him that I was a Reyvateil… well, the whole 'goddess' thing would start all over again. I don't want that…
"Now…" Sam moved, coming nose-to-nose with me. "Let Ol' Sam get a good look at ye."
I gasped involuntarily, leaning back. His gloved hands locked on the sides of my head. I withered under the force of his glare while he stared deep into my eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, he let go. "Strange..." he murmured, returning to his previous spot. "That's an interestin' eye color you've got there, girl. I've ne'er seen anyone sportin' that particular hue… well, except for th' pure-blooded clan members. Th' ones descended straight from th' highest-rankin' o' Reyvateils—who in turn came from th' Sleeping Goddess herself."
"Really…" I murmured, bemusedly making the connection between myself and the so-called Sleeping Goddess. If only he knew… "Um… what was that for, though?"
The elderly man held up a finger, silencing my query. "Just checkin' yer potential. You can learn a lot from someone's eyes if ye know what to look for." He nodded with approval. "Aye. You'll do just fine—better than fine, actually."
>Sentinel…?< I called out in private, noticing that she'd remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the brief examination.
>Just… do whatever,< she replied woundedly. >Call me if you need anything.< The AGRA-NX sat on its haunches, glaring balefully at the two of us from the shadows.
"I—I'm ready to learn!" I cried out resolutely, pressing a hand against my chest.
"Glad to hear it," Sam snorted, laying his rifle in a patch of grass. "Now… I can't claim to be th' best teacher, but 'ere it is.
"Th' art o' song magic is focused on two core parts; yer emotions, and th' use o' a language thousands o' years old, created by th' Old Ones to manipulate th' energy permeatin' Ar Ciel." He spread his arms wide. "That language is called Hymmnos. You need to be fluent in it to master th' way of th' song." His glare turned on me once more. "Do y'know Hymmnos, girl?"
I gave him a blank look. Hymmnos…?
>Um…!< I sputtered frantically, addressing the AI. >Sentinel, help!<
>Oh, so now you need my advice…< she grumbled, very much upset. >You're a Reyvateil, and every single Reyvateil is programmed to both understand and speak Hymmnos fluently. In fact, you've already been exposed to the language a lot already. That… thing in the plasma bell spoke to you in Hymmnos. Those lyrics you sang at the campfire last week? Oh, and EXEC_IN=FINITY/.? Also Hymmnos. You just didn't realize because of how innate your knowledge of it is.< Her voice flared up with anger. >Now please, administrator… leave me alone.<
>I'm sorry…< I whispered, pulling away from the forlorn AI. Turning my focus back on the man Sentinel had called a Teru, I gave my answer. "Um… yes. I'm fluent in it, actually!"
His bushy eyebrows lifted. "That so? They sure teach ye well in Mist's Reach."
"Something like that…" I coughed nervously, averting my eyes.
"Then let's begin." the man leaned forward, displaying his gloved palm. "We'll start with somethin' straightforward; creatin' a single spark o' flame. Nonetheless, girl, since yer not a Reyvateil, yer power will never be truly strong. Nor will mine, nor anyone else. And that's cause o' our emotions. They're… impure, conflictin'—not like th' Reyvateils. Anyway, th' best way to use th' power o' song is to combine it with others, to merge yer voices together." He folded his arms, raising his chin proudly. "That's how we keep up th' energy barriers that protect our village. Nothin' can get past us singin' together."
"I get it…" I whispered, glancing down at my own palm. I… I guess that a lot of this won't apply to me, since I actually am a Reyvateil… but still, that doesn't really give me a good idea of what my limits are. What's possible, and what isn't?
"What were the Reyvateils capable of, way back when…?" I probed cautiously. "Were they really that powerful?"
Sam nodded eagerly, taking the initiative to toss a block of wood onto the campfire. "They were, girl. If ye can imagine it, th' Reyvateils did it." His eyes shone. "Some say they even created th' whole tower from nothin'. Can ye imagine? The world we know, made with th' power o' song and nothin' else."
A thrill rose up within me. "Wow… really?"
"Wrong," Sentinel muttered in a low voice.
The Teru man cast an angry glare at her. "Ye got somethin' to say, robot?"
"I wanted to say that you were wrong," she shot back. "Asciydria wasn't completely built by the Reyvateils. The tower already existed in an incomplete state prior to that."
He snorted disapprovingly. "We don't have anythin' like that recorded on th' Chronicle."
"Well, it's true!" the AI shot back fiercely. "This was all way back before your people immigrated here." She turned her focus on me. "Remember last week, how I mentioned that Asciydria Tower was barebones when Ayrakii R&D showed up? Well, it's true. Only the spire's framework and a few core systems—namely the Orgel, the Apex, the ion corridor, and the Tower Administrator's SH server—were assembled. Ayrakii brought with them their own SH server, hooked it up to the tower's systems, then used Reyvateil workers to 'sing' the rest of Asciydria into existence. Over time, most of the old systems were replaced with updated, song-crafted ones. Less than two percent of the original tower still remains."
I blinked, feeling that thrill rising once more. "No way… is something like that really possible with song magic?"
She nodded firmly. "It is. Thanks to their Reyvateils, a construction project that took Ar Tonelico decades only took a few months. On the day we met, remember how I mentioned clothing generated via symphonic power? It's the same concept here, just applied on a much larger scale."
"Can we get on with th' lesson?" Sam interrupted impatiently, scratching his forearms in a gesture I assumed was annoyance or discomfort. "It's gettin' late, and I've got work to do tomorrow."
"Oh!" I bowed my head in apology. "Um… I'm sorry."
"Right." The elderly man gave a wry smile. "Song magic dates back to th' days when nomads wandered th' plains o' Ar Ciel. Th' very first singers were village shamans, usin' it to summon rain, light fires, and th' like. They did it by havin' all the villagers singin' together, which would draw magic right from th' other side—th' parallel place where all magic origina—"
"Uh, no," Sentinel cut in, rolling her eyes. "There's a perfectly scientific explanation behind it, not all that superstitious mumbo-jumbo crap. Remember that lecture I gave you on sound science? Everything in the universe is made up of waves—which includes thoughts and emotions in the form of H-waves. If you know how to do it right, you can manipulate the waves making up the atmosphere, transmuting it into something different. Or, you can simply add something new. For example, adding additional water vapour to the air to create a raincloud." She folded her arms. "Child's play."
"Now listen 'ere…" Sam growled.
I could only lean back and sigh, resigning myself to an… interesting evening.
I couldn't really expect anything else; the evening wore on exactly as I'd feared. Much of what I was to learn was frequently broken up by arguments between the AI and the Teru man.
Though, things somehow managed to work. Sentinel was highly knowledgeable as to the science of sound and the mathematics behind it all… but she had no personal experience in terms of using song magic. How could she, after all?
On the other hand, Sam was a man who knew very little about the mechanics behind the scenes, but he had decades of firsthand experience with song. Sentinel was logic, and Sam was impulse. And it was that delicate balance that led me to learn.
I had started small. Sam had provided an ancient piece of song magic once used by young Reyvateils, and Sentinel had helped me learn how to find the command for it inside my mindscape. It was the same one I had accidentally used when I created fire for the first time, so locating it wasn't overly difficult.
"I'm ready…!" I announced earnestly, taking hold of the lyrics in my mind's eye.
At the encouragement of the pair, I generated sparks from my fingertips, my crystal-clear voice echoing through the night. Though I had to be wary. I was cautious after learning of song magic's potential… and not only that, I didn't want to reveal my true identity to Sam. Though as the night wore on, after he had waved me off and shuffled out of camp with the vague promise of seeing us soon, I was free to practice to my heart's content… at full power.
No more holding back…!
"How's my little pyromaniac?" Sentinel questioned, her holographic body drifting over. Though the little AI had visibly relaxed after the Teru man departed, I still got the vague sense that she was on edge.
"I wanna try something else…" I said absentmindedly, staring into the flames. I could still remember how it felt— the heat, it flickering light in my palm. Energy that I had created.
"Why are you hiding your identity from him?" the AI questioned, ignoring my answer.
I gave a helpless shrug. "It just… didn't feel right. Back at Mist's Reach, I didn't feel like a deity… and I still don't, even after what happened in the plasma bell! I'm still just a kid…"
"Perhaps." She drifted closer, setting down on my shoulder. "But whether you feel like it or not, that's what you are. You are Tower Administrator Sylphira—for better or for worse—and nothing can change that. Might as well own it."
"Maybe…" I mumbled, flexing my fingertips.
"But enough of that," she changed the topic. "You want to try something else? How about finding out what medium you're attuned with?" the AI forced a grin. "That should be fun."
"Attuned… medium…?" I questioned.
She nodded. "That's right. Though every Reyvateil has the ability to utilize any kind of song magic—not including special cases like EXEC_IN=FINITY/.—each has an affinity, a medium that they're best at generating. Said medium can be anything, from matter to energy." Sentinel spread her palms, displaying two holographic orbs—one that seethed with a miniature inferno, and another that crackled with lightning. "Most Reyvateils are attuned to the usual suspects—fire and electricity. But," she smiled wryly, "some lucky ones get mediums that are more… interesting."
''…Like?"
"Gravity, magnetism, sound, fusion…" She tapped her lip, thinking. "Pretty much along those lines. Really, the only thing you're limited by is imagination."
"So how do I know what mine's gonna be?" I asked eagerly, fidgeting in my seat.
"All you've gotta do is sing," she replied. "Every Reyvateil should have some kind of basic attack—materializing a ball of energy or matter or whatever. It's only a weak little novice song, so it won't be very strong, but it'll at least give you an idea of what you're oriented to." The AI moved off, giving me some room. "All you need to do is sing. The spell should default to and spawn the medium most easily drawn to you—the one you're attuned with. It's as easy as that."
"I'll do my best…" Closing my eyes, I reached deep inside myself, searching for the well of raw energy that was the source of my strength.
"Just remember what Sam taught you," she reassured. "You'll do fine."
Okay. I lifted my arm, palm upraised. My fingers twitched with uncertainty; I was unsure of what I'd be getting. Let's do this…!
And so, I began to sing.
I sang of the howling winds that ravaged the sky, of the devouring flames that roared before my eyes. I sang of the rushing water, the brilliant circle of light in the sky that we called the sun—every single source of motion or energy that I could think of. All the while, I focused on drawing strength from within, transferring it into the palm of my hand.
Something began to surge in the air before me.
Hairs along my arm stood up, and the foul odor of ozone assailed my nostrils. And then, before I knew it, an orb of pulsating light ignited in my hand. Its color shifted erratically, rolling from one hue to the next like the changing tides—violet, indigo, blue, then back again. Charges of electricity arced through the air like snakes. Some shot into the flames, others burrowed into the ground. Others still rocketed up into the starry sky, never to be seen again. I could feel its raw heat, but at the same time it wouldn't burn me. It couldn't. I could feel the power of my creation in the atmosphere, like the air was thick with it.
I stared in curiosity at the pulsating sphere, maintaining the song lest my creation fade away into the night. W—what did I create?
Sentinel drifted closer, blinking slowly. "That's… new," she muttered. "Cut the flow." I obeyed, stilling my voice. The strange orb of light flickered and faded from existence.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Um… what was that thing?"
"Interesting…" the AI whispered, staring into the fire pit. Then she turned, eyes locking with mine. Purpose shone within them. "The energy best attuned to your psyche is plasma."
"Plas… ma…?"
"Indeed," Sentinel nodded, deep in thought. "I don't think I've actually ever seen plasma as a specialization before. That's because by nature, one needs to manipulate several energies simultaneously to generate it in the first place—namely various forms of heat and magnetism to create the ionization required. And to boot," she added, "to make a mass of plasma that size on your first try, without having any prior training or experience… that's unbelievable! Your body must be coursing with surplus energy. It's a little scary, actually."
Then she shrugged. "Though… I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. You're a Reyvateil Origin, after all! Naturally your power would be vastly greater than that of normal Reyvateils. I'm sure that the other Origins are equally unique with their songs."
"Mmh…" I felt like there were unanswered questions that had been on my mind, but I was unable to reach them through the haze of excitement. I can make plasma!
For a time I sat there, my voice rising over the crackling flames. One orb sprung from my palm, then promptly collapsed while I tested my energy output. Satisfied, I created one anew. Then another. And yet another. Soon enough, I had five small spheres of plasma orbiting my head. The crackling balls of superheated matter gave off much more luminosity than the campfire, bathing the glade in a cool blue light.
"Wow," I breathed, cutting off the flow.
"…Administrator," Sentinel uttered solemnly, changing her tone.
"Yeah?" I glanced over at the AI, who had demurely seated herself on a boulder off to one side. She stared into my eyes, her voice quivering with apprehension.
"D—do you," she breathed, looking away. "Do… um, do you trust me?"
"Do I trust you…" I mouthed, frowning. What's she mean by that all of a sudden…? "Is it because of what I did to you earlier? I'm so sorry, but you almost broke Sam's arms!"
"Yes, that's why…" she mumbled, wringing her hands. "I didn't mean to hurt him…" Her words were very uncharacteristic of the Sentinel that I saw on a daily basis.
"…Okay." I took a moment to ruminate, watching the smoke billow into the starry sky. Leaves rustled in the dark, caressed by a gentle breeze. Something in the campfire snapped in twain with a dull crack.
Sure, she's helped me out so much~ She saved my life back when I fell from the Apex… and back in the plasma bell, she sacrificed most of her tower guardians to save the tower. Though to be fair, I guess a lot of that was just self-preservation. …Does she actually even like me? Or am I just a means to an end?
Now that I think about it… she's been pretty mean to me. Granted, she kinda acts mean to everyone, and maybe I take the brunt of it because I spend the most time with her… but still. She's impatient, rude, and cruel. I couldn't help but recall how the AI had soaked me in a raincloud for fun, and how many bruises I'd accumulated during her uncaring movements.
"…No," I admitted.
Sentinel released a stifled, pained gasp. The small AI's head drooped, face hidden amidst the forest of jet-black hair. It was quite clear that my answer wasn't the one she expected, nor wanted.
Then she lifted her head, forcing a smile. "…Good." Her voice was subdued. "It's… better if you don't, anyway. I'm not a very good person, after all."
"W—wait…" I stammered weakly, rising to my feet.
She turned away, gazing out into the darkness. "I'm gonna go run some patrols for a bit. You should get some sleep… Sylphira."
And then, without another word, she had vanished into the night.
"Sentinel…" I whispered.
When I woke up the following morning, late into the day, the AI was nowhere to be found.
>Sentinel…?<
Silence.
Dammit. I crawled from my tent, accompanied by a trail of yawns. Sunlight beamed down on my exhausted face. The sun was already high in the sky. I had barely gotten any sleep, due to the fact that I had practiced my song into the wee hours… but it was worth it.
I recalled with a smile the events of last night. My fingers twitched, still remembering the warmth from cradling that small, flickering orb. Yeah… it was definitely worth it.
But… Sentinel… I took a good look around the campsite, peering into the crumbling ruins of the nearby hangar. Aside from dozens of large footprints, the AI's tower guardians were nowhere to be seen.
I get it… she's avoiding me. With a heavy sigh, I relit the campfire to make some breakfast. On the bright side, I can explore a little bit! And I can practice some more on my own time. Eager for the day ahead, I slid a pan over the growing flames.
I gulped down my breakfast in short order, downing a fried egg and a few salted cuts of meat before making my way into the ruins with a spring in my step. My exhaustion had evaporated in minutes, lending more credence to Sentinel's words—that I didn't even need sleep.
My face soured. Speaking of… I thought back to last night. What the AI had asked of me, and how I responded. She had asked me to be honest, and I was. If she didn't like my answer, then perhaps she shouldn't have been so mean in the first place.
I leapt over a block of concrete, running down the asphalt path. The air felt cool on my exposed face and hands. Sure, she's got problems… I know that much from when I saw into her network. But that doesn't mean that she has to take it out on me! Grumbling, I lobbed a horizontal line of plasma at a nearby stone column with a swing of my arm and a few scraps of Hymmnos from my lips. Superheated material splashed against the stone, burning right through it in milliseconds. Neatly bisected, the pillar toppled over with a dull thunk.
Oh… I hurried over, inspecting the devastation. The pillar's edges glowed orange, dripping into a puddle of molten rock. I should be more careful… it's not like I wanna go around breaking stuff. I couldn't really explain it. For some reason, generating plasma made me feel energized. My skin was practically seething with heat, leaving me with an incessant drive to release it.
I tapped my lip, thinking. It's nice to know that I can shape it, at least! That's probably me subconsciously manipulating the magnetic field… or something. That sounds like what Sentinel would say. I wonder what would happen if I tried feeding more energy into it, though…? A tiny smile made its way across my lips. I guess it'll be safe enough if I fire it off into the sky. Anticipation had rooted itself in my thoughts, driving my legs as I hurried back to the edge of the skydock where the Tempest was moored.
I picked a flat spot that was relatively free of rubble and clear of crevices that penetrated all the way through the platform. It hadn't been easy to do so; by the time I had found it, I was practically trembling with anticipation. The air was silent and still, puffy clouds hovering motionless beyond the spire's bulk. Perfect. I lifted my arm, reaching out to the sky. Here goes nothing…!
The lyrics tore from my throat like a gale-force wind, vowels spat out at a rapid velocity. To me, it felt like every word was pre-ordained, part of a script that I instinctively knew. All I had to do was mentally voice the intent to use it, and the resultant lyrics would flow into my mind like water.
"Was paks gaya, xe biron sphilar sheak mea,"
"Kapa fayra dest denera yor."
Please guide me, oh heart of the sun,
Your liquid flame will burn away the darkness.
Electricity arced from my fingertips, the air expanding into a glowing blue smear before my eyes. The blob of nascent plasma grew and grew, until a pulsing orb the size of my head hung in the air. Normally I would cast it at this point, but this time I maintained it. My voice only grew louder, echoing off the broken walls.
I suddenly stiffened, sensing a massive presence touching my mind. It came right from the core of my being, from a part that had been silent up until recently. Raw energy flowed from it like a conduit, rapidly flooding throughout my small frame.
Whoa! What's happeni—
EXEC_HYMME_PLASMASPHERE/.
The orb suddenly swelled to thrice its size, giving off a harsh glare that was like staring into the sun. I felt my hair stand on end, and choked on ozone… interrupting the lyrics. And yet, the song didn't falter. My voice continued to reverberate through the air, no longer born of my vocal chords. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
It was the tower, singing for me—singing in my absence. It had to be. I vaguely recalled what Sentinel had said to me, what felt like a lifetime ago. She said that song magic… didn't need actual song to be used. She was right! That means that this… is what it means to be bolstered by the tower.
"Incredible…" I whispered, fidgeting with mild discomfort at the strange prospect of having my voice come from something that wasn't myself—but an enormous wave of excitement washed over me, burying that feeling.
With a flick of my hand, the sphere of plasma shot up into the sky like a bullet. The mass had swollen to at least the size of my body thanks to all the energy it had devoured. Though, it wouldn't last. With the distance between us growing, the molten orb began to collapse. Violet clouds of residual particles trailed behind the orb as it dissipated away into nothingness, leaving streaks of color across the sky.
I was overwhelmed by elation. "That was so awesome…!" I cried out jubilantly, hopping in place with boundless energy. "The coolest ever! Mitri and Evecia would be so impressed!"
And then the feeling vanished. I came to a sudden halt, confused.
What the… I frowned, tapping my forehead. What was that? Did the song… I wasn't excited or hyper before or anything… and all of a sudden, I was! And then it just vanished…
I released a sudden gasp of realization. H-waves…! Sentinel told me that those are what make up thoughts and feelings. When I started to sing that song—PlasmaSphere—it twisted my emotions to get the proper H-wave response that would maintain the song. It forced me to experience those feelings. The concept was discomforting, to say the least.
My thoughts were rudely interrupted by the pitter-patter of falling pebbles. Dislodged rubble, somewhere nearby. Caused by someone nearby.
In the blink of an eye, I had my utility knife in hand. My gaze had locked on the burnt-out shell of a building—where the sound had come from. "W—who's there?!"
Only silence answered my call. A breath of dust drifted from one of the ground-floor windows.
"I—I know you're there!" I cried out determinedly, shuffling closer.
Wait… why am I even using this thing now? I stretched out my arm, palm facing the origin of the mysterious sound. This is way more effective.
Something shuffled in the rubble—something big. Before I could lay eyes on it, however, it barreled off into the undergrowth, the sharp crack of snapping branches following as its footsteps receded. But… I recognized those footsteps. Those heavy, metallic ones.
Experimenting, I triggered my tower sense.
Shift. New search terms; SENTINEL_aiCORE
I smirked, seeing the glowing dot that represented one of the AI's tower guardians, fleeing the scene. I knew it. She's still keeping an eye on me…
>Sentinel,< I spoke softly. >I know you're listening in, and I know you've been watching what I've been doing. Please… talk to me.<
…
It was a long time before she responded in a breathy voice. >Adminis—no, Sylphira. Sylphira, you were right. I don't deserve your trust, or your friendship, or anything…< The AI released a muffled sob, which carried over through our connection. >I—I know I'm a fucking mess, but still… it's no excuse for what I did to you. I'm really gonna try to be better, I promise…<
Without a moment's hesitation, I replied. >Sentinel, I forgive you.<
>B—but,< she sputtered bewilderedly, >h—how can you just say that so easily?! After how awful I was to you… you should hate me!<
I folded my arms, examining the path the AI had created while she fled. >Well, I mean… it's fair if I give you a second chance, isn't it? You said sorry, and you promised to do better… so it's okay!< I allowed a tint of steel to filter into my voice. >…Just so long as you meant it.<
Sentinel sniffed. >Thank you… Sylphira. I'll try.< A note of pride entered her voice. >By the way… congratulations on your first piece of true song magic!<
I blushed despite myself. >Thank you…<
There you are…
Sighting in on my target, I flung a dart. It whistled through the air… and cleanly missed its mark, thudding harmlessly into a tree trunk. The small animal I had been hunting scampered away fearfully, vanishing into the underbrush.
A vexing frown took form on my visage. That's… not normal. I haven't missed a target since that day when I was first learning how to do it!
I sighed, rising from the cluster of ferns I had been hiding in. Striding over, I retrieved the wayward projectile, giving it a thorough examination. There didn't seem to be any visible damage to the exterior, and a quick pulse of my tower sense revealed that it was still connected to the AI. From here, I couldn't detect any issues.
Maybe just… a rogue crosswind, then. Or some kind of electrical field jamming the guidance? Shrugging, I hiked through the vegetation, hopping over loose bits of rubble that had fallen from the deteriorating ruins overhead. Occasionally I saw flashes of color in the empty windows, a silhouette rushing off in a branching-off alleyway—more like ghosts than actual people. But Sentinel's words and an accidental run-in with the elderly Teru man earlier had told me otherwise.
"Aye, there're tribes o' people here," he had snorted, gazing over the derelict airships with a disapproving scowl. "Long as ye don't bother 'em, they won't bother ye. When I first got 'ere, I couldn't even talk to any of 'em; they just fled. They're fearful o' strangers like you and I."
After traversing about five hundred meters along the dock—hopefully beyond the range of that supposed electrical anomaly—I hunched down in the juniper bushes, laying in wait for prey. It wasn't long before something scurried by in the distance—something with silvery-gray feathers. The avian creature hopped along, pecking at the dirt beneath its talons. The bird vaguely resembled the chickens I'd seen in Mist's Reach, though this one was clearly more skyworthy.
Narrowing my eyes, I threw the thin metal rod. It cut through the air easily, homing on its target with uncanny accuracy… and then veered off in a wide arc at the last second, bouncing off a vine-covered wall. My quarry squawked in fear, flapping its wings wildly before vanishing into the skies above.
"Are you kidding me…?" I grumbled morosely, shuffling over to where the dart had landed. Squatting down in the dirt, I gingerly picked up the metal rod, glaring intently at the object all the while. I don't get it… There's no way that it's just a really big electrical disturbance, or Sentinel and I would've been able to feel it. And it's not wind, cause this is a sheltered area. That means it can only be…
>Sentinel, can you hear me?<
She replied distractedly, stumbling and slurring on every word. >…Oh. He… llo… Syl… phir… a. What… do… y—<
>…Sentinel, are you okay?< I quickly cut in, concerned about her wellbeing.
>Oh!< she exclaimed, suddenly flustered. >Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. I was just concentrating on other things. What's going on? Are you finished with your hunting trip already? I replenished our water supplies.<
The polished metal of the dart gleamed in the sunlight as I rolled it between my slender fingers. >Well,< I asked, >are you getting me to rely on my own skill now?<
>Um… what do you mean?< The AI sounded genuinely perplexed.
I waved the dart about. >The guidance on your… flechette thingies doesn't work anymore! They keep veering off on their own. You're messing with it to get me to do it on my own, aren't you…?<
Sentinel froze for an incredible thirty seconds, leaving me wondering if she would even answer at all. >…Yes. You've advanced to the point that you don't need me anymore. You're a real professional now!<
Her reaction was… odd, to say the least—and it didn't sound entirely truthful, either. Though it had only been two days since she'd had her mini-breakdown, and I wasn't eager to pressure her until she had another. If Sentinel didn't want to talk about why she didn't have time to manage the darts' guidance, then that was it.
>…Okay,< I said lamely, laying the issue to rest. My fingernails dug into the dart's metal casing, searching for the seam I knew was there. Locating it, I popped the tiny hatch open and disabled the automated guidance function. Easy enough, I guess…
Soon enough, I was spearing prey just as well as I had been when using the AI's guidance system. For a time I wandered through the woods, replenishing my food stocks. Sentinel had warned me that there were no more significant landmarks all the way up to the ion corridor. We wouldn't be able to stop climbing again for quite some time.
I strode into camp two hours later, dragging my catch with me. The sun had already begun its slow descent to the horizon, and by the time I finished cooking and cleaning the meat, sunset was well underway. A cool breeze heralding the approach of nightfall whipped through the camp, the canvas material of my tent rustling in tune.
Sentinel arrived minutes later, coming in on one of her tiny airborne drones. The tower guardian settled into the dirt next to my boulder, its turbine engines rapidly powering down.
"Hi there, Sentinel…!" I greeted her shyly, setting down an armful of branches and a tiny pouch of tinder into the circle of rocks that made up our fire pit.
"Hi, Sylphira…" she mumbled back, apparently deep in thought. Even though she had been calling me by my real name for the last couple days now, it still continued to throw me off. The name felt alien to me—not like Sif.
At the command of my song, the pillar of wood and stone burst into flame. The relief I felt was immediate, the coming darkness warded off and the cold held at bay.
Seating myself, I held a piece of meat on a stick over the hungry flames. "So we're leaving tomorrow… right?" At this point, we had been here for a total of four days. In that time, I'd completed what Sentinel had wanted me to do—learn song magic. While she had apologetically pointed out that I wasn't truly powerful yet, it would only be a matter of time.
"Something like that…" she murmured from atop her inert machine, listlessly staring into the fire.
I tentatively reached over… then recoiled, having second thoughts. "Sentinel… are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay…" Chastised by the brusque response, I turned my eyes elsewhere, struggling to stare at anything but her. Funnily enough—as different as I'd originally thought we were—we shared one obvious character trait, though the AI's was buried deep. By nature, we were both extremely timid. It didn't exactly make for the most interesting small talk between us, but I didn't mind. I could have stared up at the stars in silence for hours, just imagining what lay in wait out there.
Hours had passed before Sentinel spoke, just as I had been debating on heading to bed. "…Wanna try out one of those new pieces of song magic?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed eagerly, bolting upright.
Over the last three days I had practiced my song incessantly between meals, both under my own strength and while bolstered by Asciydria Tower… and though PlasmaSphere—the sole 'true' song in my arsenal—was powerful, it was the only one I had. While the AI had reassured me that there were more, she had also brought up my condition—whether I would be able to emotionally handle the sheer amount of energy pouring into my soul.
Sentinel had explained it to me two days ago. "I can't really speak from personal experience… but song magic is all about emotions, not raw power. The more you feel, the more powerful your songs will be. To become truly powerful, you need to discipline yourself and control your feelings. That's especially important for when you get around to more advanced songs, which require a tighter focus and more complex emotions simultaneously. We don't know yet if your disconnection attacks will disrupt that, just like what happened when you first tried to sing the Extract."
Having learned that, I sought to utilize song magic whenever I could, determined to master the flow of my emotions—hence the nonstop training sessions over the last three days. And just this morning, something from the core of my being—the conduit which I had since realized was my tower connection—had emerged.
SYLPHIRA_ANSUL_ASCIYDRIA ———————— You have 2 new message(s).
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION // Song magic directory updated. New recommended command(s) added!
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION // Warning! Abnormal levels of wave activity detected in unit's triangular nuclear loop. Please see a technician at your assigned maintenance bay as soon as possible.
>> Song Magic Directory (default commands):
———————————————————————————————————
EXEC_HYMME_ENERGY=BALL/.
EXEC_HYMME_PLASMASPHERE/.
EXEC_HYMME_SOUL=LIGHT/.
EXEC_HYMME_ERASER=BARRAGE/.
> Show further commands (1016 remaining)
>> Song Magic Directory (unique modifier):
Note: The EXEC_SHIFT modifier is unique to the Asciydria Tower SH server and cannot be used elsewhere. EXEC_SHIFT commands are far more fluid than default commands, and can be altered dynamically by the user mid-song to suit the changing battlefield. Hide this message in future Y/N?
———————————————————————————————————
EXEC_SHIFT_DIMENSIONLANCE/.
EXEC_SHIFT_NULLGRAV/.
EXEC_SHIFT_BREAKERSTORM/.
EXEC_SHIFT_HYDROSTORM/.
> Show further commands (16 remaining)
>> Song Magic Directory (Extract commands):
———————————————————————————————————
Error: File(s) corrupted.
My eyes had widened with pure shock, faced with the prospect of having access to over one thousand songs. Oh god… t—there's so many!
Needless to say, I was bouncing with excitement at the time… though there had been a flicker of horror, gnawing at the back of my mind. I couldn't help but notice that most of them sounded like songs designed to maim or kill—as if I were made to be some kind of weapon. The odd warning notification had left me mystified, too.
Abnormal waves… what does that mean?
"What's this one called, anyway?" the AI queried.
"DimensionLance…" I replied vaguely, eyes squeezed shut. I had descended beneath a veil of concentration, allowing me to aim my tower sense at myself. After all—as much as it unnerved me—I was a part of Asciydria, and it was a part of me.
This was something new for me. Though I had utilized PlasmaSphere countless times already, it had originally activated by accident. After that, it was a simple matter to replicate the thoughts and feelings I had experienced at the time. I didn't know what it was like to cast something new.
"Any luck?" Sentinel posed.
"Shh!" I grumbled, huffing. "Just… lemme concentrate…"
A distant siren call sprung from the night air, echoing around us. It stemmed from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. No… it wasn't an echo—an echo of an echo, perhaps. Faint, almost undetectable… but without a doubt, mine.
I smiled. Gotcha.
EXEC_SHIFT_DIMENSIONLANCE/.
A gaping hole opened up directly above my head, blacker than the starry sky. A strong wind snatched at my clothing as the local atmosphere was sucked through the portal, into the vacuum which must have awaited on the other side… wherever that was.
But it wasn't a one-way street. Something came out.
With an unearthly howl, an object viciously tore its way out of the rift between dimensions. Its conical shaft shone with light, polished white flanks sparking with electricity. Four thrusters on the object's rear ignited with a deep rumble that resonated in my bones.
I know that shape…!
The AI blinked slowly, frozen in horror. "…No way. Nooooo way! REALLY?!<
I grinned stupidly, staring up at it with jubilation in my heart. It's nice to see you again…
An ethereal clone of my old friend—none other than the fabled rocket lance that had enabled us to escape the silvaplate—hung in the air, phasing in and out of reality
"You're shitting meeeee…" Sentinel groaned, burying her face within the folds of her robe. "This is just a really dumb nightmare, right? You did not just pull out a copy of that useless… spear thing!"
"The rocket lance is back for good!" I cried out gleefully, waving it around. At my touch, it solidified into an exact duplicate of the one I had used before. The massive object was utterly weightless to me.
A familiar voice spoke from the gloom. "I… I shoulda known right from th' start…"
Sentinel and I spun around in unison. My lance tumbled from my grasp, slipping through my fingers as it flickered out of this plane.
Sam was there, barely visible in the light of the campfire. His green eyes shone with wonder. The man looked like he had grown twenty years younger.
"…Well then," Sentinel breathed, shrugging helplessly.
The elderly man stepped forward, eyes locked on mine. I backed up frantically, pressing my spine against the crumbling hangar wall. He continued to approach until he was standing over me, staring down with tears leaking down his cheeks.
"…Hi, Sam…" I coughed awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
"I shoulda known…" he mumbled, repeating himself. "When I saw you from afar on th' first day, I had a flicker o' suspicion… but then I realized that yer age was wrong, and yer hair was different…" He shook his head wearily, cap falling low over his forehead. "I… I see it now."
Sam lifted his head, eyes shining with an inner fire. "Sif… yer th' Sleeping Goddess—none other than Tower Administrator Sylphira…!"
The Teru man dropped to his knees, groveling at my feet.
"…Oh dear," I uttered feebly.
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Oh dear. Sentinel is having serious issues isn't she. And not just emotionally.
(I'm guessing she REALLY needs maintenance that just isn't possible anymore. Much like the tower, and probably for much the same reasons.)
Nice to see some more song magic/science as well! And Sylphira is marginally, ever so slightly better than subterfuge than before (still fails epically).
Also, Sam seems nice, even if the whole situation is rapidly becoming more awkward.
And not just emotionally.(I'm guessing she REALLY needs maintenance that just isn't possible anymore. Much like the tower, and probably for much the same reasons.)
Nice to see some more song magic/science as well! And Sylphira is marginally, ever so slightly better than subterfuge than before (still fails epically).
Also, Sam seems nice, even if the whole situation is rapidly becoming more awkward.
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
She really does. We know part of the problem, since Sif had a look at her code--she's lost too much of herself, and she lost a lot more units recently. Maybe she'll stabilize, or even recover a little, but she also might keep degenerating until she's done for.Oh dear. Sentinel is having serious issues isn't she.
(I'm guessing she REALLY needs maintenance that just isn't possible anymore. Much like the tower, and probably for much the same reasons.)
Nice to see some more song magic/science as well! And Sylphira is marginally, ever so slightly better than subterfuge than before (still fails epically).
Also, Sam seems nice, even if the whole situation is rapidly becoming more awkward.
She's amusing! And adorable.
But I have to correct you a bit, I think...
That is not supposed to happen.
Certainly, Sif is the name her family uses--and I'd say it's pretty clear that she imprinted on them, so "her family" should be the right wording. She's barely born, and she was made to do that. ...one assumes.
However, a Reyvateil's name isn't given by their family. A third-gen's is, but Sif is an Origin. Her name is her Hymn Code, which was installed prior to initial bootup, and should always be the most familiar name for her. If you like, it's her True Name; the word that most directly refers to her, although since we're talking about an advanced computer program (AI, remember!), knowing it doesn't directly make her vulnerable. She has firewalls. True, not knowing it would make it hard to go that route at all, it's just...
Anyway.
She shouldn't feel that "Sif" is more fitting. That's not her name... or if it is, then she's more broken than I expected. I wonder how much of her Reyvateil nature is left to her at all, really.
Well the tower certainly feels a bit broken and the weather seems like it can be worse as one climbs up... Sounds like things are going to be difficult in future. Though maybe she can get some help from people for the coming section still atleast?
The nuclear loop should be the power source for it, yes. So it having issues is potentially concerning... Together with some of the other issues been shown so far. Though so far it doesn't seem to stop her from functioning normally mostly... so hopefully it will be manageable?
Given how bootleg everything about this Tower and Sylphira is, and the whole weapon thing she just realized, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't really properly isolate her own Server from that of β-6D. Possibly with the intent of making her have access to all of the combat magic ever crafted by her subordinate betas (which would explain the huge library of EXEC_HYMME songs she has).
If that is in fact the case, it could be that the physical destruction of β-6D's Server caused some kind of bleedover effect to Sylphira............Maybe......I'll let the experts analyze that kind of thing.
Chapter 9
- Location
- Ontario, Canada
Chapter 9 - Ascent
A cacophony of bird calls sounded through the twilit sky as a flicker of fire ignited on the horizon. I was awake to watch while the sun lifted above the cloud tops, casting wild shadows through the wispy canyons and peaks. Even now, it was hard to believe that something so beautiful could be so dangerous.
"Sylphira?" The familiar voice of the AI emanated from behind. "It's time. Everything's packed up and ready to go."
"Yeah…" I murmured, staring down at the Isles of Aria. Somewhere down there lay Mist's Reach—home. I wanted to return. I missed my friends, my family. But I couldn't. Not until I made sure that they would all be safe.
I gave my teddy a lasting squeeze before setting him in my pack, turning to face my companion. "I'm ready."
Sentinel grinned, patting my shoulder reassuringly before taking her usual place on it. "Next stop, the ion corridor! That is, just as soon as we get past your new number-one fan."
A weary groan passed through my lips. "This stinks…"
The AI's procession of tower guardians and I made the kilometer-long trek back to the tower wall, pushing through the foliage still damp with morning dew. We reached the main shaft just as the sun's warm rays began to filter through the treetops.
The gaping tunnel leading into the maze-like interior of the main shaft emerged from the foliage up ahead, pervasive shadows clinging to its edges. A sour and musty stench emerged from the doorway, ushered by a wind echoing in a low moan that sounded more like the wails of the damned than regular air circulation. After days spent recuperating in the brightly-lit city ruins, the lightless bowels of Asciydria only looked more ominous and inhospitable than ever before.
"Goddess!" a voice exclaimed from behind, accompanied by the tramp of approaching feet.
Sentinel wordlessly grinned, watching me from the corner of her eye.
"Don't say a word…" I grumbled, reluctantly turning to face the man.
Sam slowed to a halt, gasping and wheezing. The elderly man had really worn himself out chasing us across the entirety of the aerial port. Gathering himself up, he dropped to one knee.
The AI tittered softly. "What are you waiting for, Tower Administrator? Go address your loyal subject! He came all the way here just to bid you farewell!"
I gave the tiny figure an eyeroll. She's enjoying this, isn't she…?
His hand snaked around both of mine, grasping them tightly. I could feel every wrinkle in his skin, drawn taut against my own. For the first time, I noted with shock that brown-tinted scales covered the Teru man's knuckles, extending along his forearms and vanishing into the depths of his baggy sleeves. Colored like tree bark and rough like a lizard's, they gleamed dully in the sunlight.
"Goddess," he breathed reverently, bowing his head. "I'm sorry that I can't go with ye on yer journey o' ascension. I came 'ere on behalf o' my tribe, and I can't just abandon th' task they gave me. Th' best I can do is meet th' two of ye should ye reach Lyra Village."
"What a shame indeed," Sentinel said sarcastically, suppressing a giggle. Clearly, Sam's over-the-top worship was a great source of amusement to her. This was Mist's Reach turned up to eleven.
I leaned back, struggling to extricate my hand from the Teru man's iron grip. "Um… it's fine! This is gonna be a… long and dangerous trip, anyway. Oh, and please… can you just call me Sif or Sylphira? And lastly… please, let go!"
"Lady Sylphira," he pledged, doubling down. His grasp didn't weaken one modicum.
"Just… regular Sylphira!" I yelped, writhing around. "Let gooooo…!"
"So why'd you come down to inspect the airships, anyway?" Sentinel asked, mirth sparkling in her charcoal-gray eyes. She was dragging this out for as long as possible.
"Cause o' th' tremors half a lunar cycle ago," the Teru man replied, glaring at the tower wall. "Th' spire almost collapsed then and there, and so th' elders decided that we had to be ready to make an exodus. I came down 'ere to see if any vessels from th' old world might be salvageable." His broad shoulders sagged. "So far, it's not lookin' good…"
Sam's grip suddenly tightened, making me wince in pain as his viridian eyes locked on mine. "But with th' Goddess herself, workin' to save th' world… there's no doubt in my mind that she'll deliver us all from th' brink o' destruction."
"Okay, okay, I get it!" I cried out, unable to break free. What's with this guy?!
"I think I just might be warming up to you, Sam," the AI giggled, her machines taking the first few steps into the waiting shadows. "Ready when you are, Lady Sylphira."
"I hate you…" I mumbled under my breath, resigned to my fate.
The elderly Teru man gently squeezed my hand. "Should ye deign to visit Lyra Village, Lady Sylphira, there'll be an energy shield stoppin' ye from enterin'. It's maintained by th' strongest singers in my tribe." He bowed his head, showing respect. "To open it, all ye have to do is speak th' secret phrase."
"Secret… phrase…?"
Sam nodded vigorously. "Aye. Once ye reach the barrier, speak 'Rrha ki ra, sosu herra spiritum elle zodal ciel, accrroad nozess guatrz yor' with yer heart an' mind. Th' barrier will part before ye."
"Mmh…" I mumbled, engraving the phrase into my mind. 'On the honor of those from a dying world, I mean you no harm.'
"And that's all I can give ye, Lady Sylphira. I wish ye th' most sincere of luck on yer journey. We'll meet again." The Teru man leaned towards my hand, lips puckered.
He was going in for the kiss.
The dreaded kiss.
"Waaaah!" With a swift tug, I was free. Without so much as a word, I sprinted after Sentinel into the darkness, leaving the ruins of the secondary skydock—and my new Teru 'friend'—behind.
"You know what? I like that guy!" the AI said in a congenial way, ribbing me playfully.
"…S—shut up."
And so, the long stretch from the secondary skydock to the ion corridor began. The climb was long, mundane, and uneventful, with scenery that barely changed despite the ever-increasing altitude. Yet even as monotonous as the journey was, the danger always remained, lurking in the shadows like a hungry predator.
Parts of the endless staircase could potentially give way at any moment—and did on several occasions, due to the AGRA-NX's enormous weight. It was lucky that Sentinel's tower guardians were equipped with jump jets. Due to the staircase's poor condition, we often had to detour through the spire's interior. Even though I could easily navigate through the dark and musty corridors, that was a lot of time wasted on horizontal travel when we were supposed to be making vertical headway.
As each insipid day drew to its close, we would halt at the nearest waystation. Much like the first one we had visited, the others were devoid of structures yet completely overgrown. Some were nothing more than windswept meadows, tall stalks of grass swaying back and forth in the breeze. Others were buried in dense vegetation much like the coniferous forests spread across the Isles of Aria, and others still were almost completely flooded with water. Yet no matter what, no matter the conditions, we would always come to a halt and I'd light my campfire. It became a sort of evening ritual, almost.
Every night, before those roaring flames, I would practice my song—preparing for that fateful day when I'd have to sing EXEC_IN=FINITY/. to save Asciydria Tower. It was more than just that, though. It was to save Mitri, Evecia, the people of Mist's Reach to prove that I was worthy of their trust again… and for Sam, and Sentinel too. I would do this, to save them all.
With that ultimate goal always in the back of my mind, it was gradually becoming harder and harder for me to think of myself as a mere child.
The AI would watch as I practiced, keeping an eye on me with her machines while her own holographic body stared up at the stars. She never said so much as a word while I practiced—never praising, never admonishing. Just watching silently, no doubt making notes on the speed of my growth and comparing them to how long it would take us to reach our goal. Ultimately, I would have to be capable of singing the Extract by the time we reached the SH server. If I was unable to, then acquiring it in the first place would be meaningless.
Though while I worked, while I practiced self-discipline with the aim to master my emotions, while I practiced my third song—a healing command called Soul Light—Sentinel grew more and more withdrawn. Every night her brow would furrow in concentration while she focused her attention elsewhere. She grew distant, slow to respond to my queries. It was pretty evident that something was troubling the little AI, and her own stubborn insistence that she was fine wasn't conducive to my own desire to help her. All I could do was keep practicing, with a sliver of hope that she would open up to me.
As we wound up that stairway, our altitude ever-increasing, structures anchored to the upper areas of Section C began to enshroud the main shaft. The sections of architecture sheltered us from the elements while we climbed. Though, it was a double-edged sword; while the assault from the wind and rain had ended, a whole new kind of torture had begun at the hands of the mistral artifice.
"I can't take it anymore!" I exclaimed in the dead of night, jamming additional scraps of cloth into my ears in a lame attempt to ward off the punishing waves of sound beyond the thin walls of my tent.
Sentinel laughed from outside; her drones had been stationed around my shelter, striving to give me as much protection from the aural assault as possible. "Hey, you were wondering what this thing was, right? Now you know firsthand!"
That haunting wail of pipe organs I had often heard in the distance from my place on the Isles of Aria… we had finally reached its source—and up close, it was deafening.
A gargantuan complex of silvery tubes—each one wider than a building—dropped down from above like gigantic stalactites, blotting out the sun. Their cylindrical shapes were engulfed in a quilt of moss, as well as an odd widespread plant that sent out a cloud of seeds every time a vibration rippled down the length of the tubes. During the day, the air would be filled with the small plants' children, drifting on the wind.
But now wasn't the time to ruminate on foliage. Not with my slumber being disturbed yet again.
The mistral artifice, I thought to myself, reflecting what I had learned from conversations with the AI as well as from my own forays into the outer reaches of the tower's systems. It generates symphonic power from the wind. Altogether, it produces just under two percent of all the energy Asciydria Tower outputs. The rest is done by the Orgel and smaller power-generating devices like generators and solar collectors. The system is vital… but real noisy up close. How the heck were people supposed to work around these?!
At dawn, we broke camp. My pace had quickened, such was my desire to escape the cacophony of sheer noise. It took several days—several days of plugged ears and pure hell—but at last, we left the mistral artifice behind. My ears rang for days after that.
Yet things only grew more difficult. The higher we ascended, the more twisted and mangled the exterior maintenance stairway became. It brought our rapid pace to a screeching halt.
"We have no choice," Sentinel growled in resignation. "We're gonna have to make our way up through the inside."
Traversing through the interior of Asciydria was no longer as punishing; I could now pick my way through the winding corridors and across the harrowing maze of catwalks as if I'd done it a million times before. Even so, it still took far longer to make vertical headway than simply climbing the stairway outside.
Days dragged on endlessly, blending into weeks through sheer tedium—so much so that there were occasional nights where I flat-out forgot to sleep. The calendar turned over as the year 3770 drew to a close. Sentinel announced the advent of 3771 with the squeak of a party blower, a shower of holographic confetti, and a dry "Hooray!"
We marched onwards. The muscles in my legs hardened, my respiratory system grew stronger. I felt my stamina noticeably increase. My frail body was forced to strengthen and adapt to the unending climb upward.
And every single day, bit by bit, the rotating plates of the ion corridor drew inexorably closer.
Then one day, the boredom came to an abrupt end.
It was an unremarkable day, like any other. A light breeze rushed up the steps behind us, urging me on. The sun sat high in the sky, having finally shifted from behind the tower's superstructure overhead. A thick blanket of cloud hung over the Isles of Aria; only the knife-like shape of Sphilar Prism rose above the mists, the only shred of proof that solid ground existed out there.
I strode purposefully up the staircase, no longer broken against them like waves on a rugged coastline as I once was. My hand trailed along the blackened and pockmarked wall of the spire. My fingers were splayed out, lightly tracing the geometric patterns engraved into the steel.
Sentinel's AGRA-NX led the way, its wicked horn posed to impale any and all potential threats on the road ahead. The smaller Type-14 light cargo transporter tailed behind, now much lighter on its feet. In the time since I'd first learned how to use song magic on a daily basis, I'd discovered how to create freshwater from the atmosphere itself. I no longer needed to keep a supply of it, and so it was discarded.
"What about food?" I had asked, watching the river of water vanish down the steps. "Can I learn how to make that, too? To create my meals from nothing…?"
The AI had shaken her head. "Theoretically, it's possible… but in practice? No one's ever managed to pull it off. Creating life from nothing with song magic would be frightfully complex. It's easier to just hunt and forage—or in your case, to forgo eating entirely."
My tummy growled as if in answer to my thoughts. Oh… I thoughtfully reached into my pack, extracting a small package wrapped in dried leaves. Licking my lips, I dug into the crushed paste of herbs and meat, savoring the sweet and spicy flavor.
I sucked my fingers clean, allowing the packet of leaves to drift off in the breeze. My eyes locked on Sentinel—or rather, the large armored behind of the AGRA-NX up ahead.
My brow creased with a frown. The little AI had been silent all morning, not even bothering to generate her holographic body. To say that her inaction was unusual would be a gross understatement, as she seemed to be quite fond of going around with a physical form—even going so far as to simulate lip movements and project facial expressions that matched her emotions. For a digitized being, such actions would normally be wholly unnecessary.
"Sentinel…?" I probed cautiously.
Her response came after an uncomfortably-long delay. "…Sylphira."
I bit my lower lip, jogging up to walk alongside the monstrous tower guardian. "I know I asked before, and you've told me that everything's all right… but are you sure you're okay? You seem kinda… off."
The AI released an exasperated huff. "I'm fine, really. I've just been thinking about things more than usual lately, that's all."
My attempt to get something out of her having failed, I relented with a sigh. "Okay…"
I could always straight-up order her to spill the whole truth. Whether it's out of pride, shame, or something else, she's hiding something all the same. But… it'd make me a horrible person to take advantage of her programming like that. She'd never forgive me.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" she groused, irritated.
"If you're refusing to talk about it, that means it's something that's bothering you!" I shot back, waving my arms about. "You wanna help me, fine. I might still be a dumb little kid who barely knows anything… but I'm the Tower Administrator, and you're my friend. So please… let me help you every once in awhile!"
The AGRA-NX blinked slowly, coming to a screeching halt. A single enormous eye laid on me, penetrating deep into my own. Sentinel snorted suddenly. "And so they say, our administrator grew three sizes that day."
"…What?"
"You just got bigger," the AI said plainly.
"Wait, really?!" I hurriedly lifted my palms, amazed. "Um, I don't feel any different…"
"Check your clothes!" she exclaimed. "Don't they feel… tighter or something?"
I frowned, troubled. "Now that you mention it…" I tugged at my sleeves, noting how my wrists were left uncovered by the fabric. My toes ached, constricted in my too-small boots. "H-how much bigger did I get…?" I said weakly.
"It's not that bad!" she laughed, emerging at last from her tower guardians. I couldn't help but notice the millisecond of lag between her voice and her actual lip movements. Something was up. "You only went up a little bit—from 127 to 135 centimeters—and now I'd put you at maybe… ten human years old. Eleven, tops. So hey, you're almost back to your starting point at least."
"Great…" Recalling what we had previously been discussing, I snapped back. "…Hey! You can't just… pop a surprise like that on me just so we can get past an awkward conversation topic! I have eidetic memory, remember? It's not like I'm gonna forget what we were talking about."
The AI was unable to hide her look of dismay. "…I knew that."
"Why can't you talk about it…?" I pressed. "What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of it!< she cried out indignantly, glaring back.
"You said 'it,'" I countered, seizing my chance. "That means there is something! It's because your systems are slowing down, right? Because you lost too many tower guardia—"
>W—whatever!< the AI sputtered, folding her arms with a frustrated huff. >Why can't you just drop it, Sylphira? It's not like it's visibly impeding my performance or anything, so why should you even care?! This is my problem, not yours.<
"If there's a chance of it endangering you, then I…"
>No. I don't want it.< Sentinel stubbornly insisted, lowering her gaze before muttering in a low voice. >You can't help me, anyway.<
I swallowed hard, wanting to push further but reluctant to do so. I didn't want to risk having her shut me out completely. That wouldn't do either of us any good—especially since the two of us were more or less dependent on each other. "Okay…"
For a time we climbed silently, trying to ignore the other's presence. Clouds scudded by, the furthest ones dark in color and crackling with lightning. The distant storm mirrored how I felt inside. I had ruined it.
The AI released a pained gasp. >S—Sylphira…<
Her hologram vanished like a switch had been thrown. Both tower guardians ground to a halt. The AGRA-NX's servos creaked as the monstrosity keeled over onto its side.
It all happened in the space of less than a second. One second she was here, and the next, she was gone.
"Sentinel?!" I cried frantically, rushing over to the inert machine. My hands grasped the enormous tower guardian's neck, digging into the metal while I tried to shake her back to consciousness.
"Sentinel, what happened?! Wake up… please, wake up!"
Warmth pulsed against the surface of my palms. Heat emanated from the AGRA-NX's mechanical innards, and tiny lights still blinked along its flanks. The machine wasn't dead, but its controller was absent, busy, playing a prank… or in danger.
And judging from the fear in her voice in the moment before she vanished, it was quite clear which of the four it was.
"Sentinel?!!"
With mounting panic, I hurried down the steps towards the Type-14. The cargo carrier's legs had given out, leaving it sprawled across the stairway at an odd angle. Like the AGRA-NX, the tower guardian was still active, but traces of Sentinel were nowhere to be found.
>Sentinel! S—Sentinel, where are you?!< Seeing nothing in the physical, I shifted to the digital front.
Something was profoundly wrong with the connection we shared. The edges of my mind—the location she normally occupied—was now home to a curtain of mist, hiding the little AI's reassuring presence. Try as I might, I couldn't brute-force my way through it.
>SENTINEL!< I shrieked desperately into the void.
My heart pounded in my breast, dizziness taking over. My one and only companion was gone.
Wait… My eyebrows knitted together. Maybe if I… I promised myself that I wouldn't do this again without her consent… but she might actually be dying! I don't have a choice.
Sucking in air, I reached for my tower connection.
Shift. New search terms; SENTINEL_aiCORE
The familiar rush of wind, the pitter-patter of stardust grazing my nebulous form assailed my senses as I was extracted from my body. I brought my determined gaze to bear, searching for those filaments that I knew had to be there.
S—she can't be dead. The tower guardians would've shut down if she had. I refuse to believe it. But what happened to her, then…?
My sensors locked on a software packet, a twinkling star in the vast distance—one of her largest machines, located in the bowels of the mistral artifice. It was a model I hadn't seen before—some kind of massive mobile computing device. Nonetheless, the machine was buried under hundreds of meters of rubble. Even so, it was the first lead I had to go on. From here, I could access anything within the AI's dwindling network.
I drifted closer, brushing up against the bundle of interlocking programs. Leaning in, directing all of my concentration, I peered into the depths of Sentinel's inactive mind.
Everything was dead—no, not exactly. Upon second examination, the flitting smears of colors that made up the AI's thoughts and emotions shivered ever-so-slightly, flicking in and out of reality. The signal timings were distorted, nodes refusing to acknowledge each others' traffic.
It's… static! I realized with immense relief. She's not dead, she's just frozen! Something's locking up all her processing power. But what could be doing that to her?
Thinking back, I recalled how torn up her software had appeared during my first accidental foray into Sentinel's mind. Comparing that mental snapshot to the current state of the AI's network, it wasn't long before I discovered a glaring discrepancy.
>There's a growing blob of corrupted code in here… or something along those lines,< I muttered to no one in particular. >Whatever it is, it's big enough to completely lock up Sentinel's functions. But where could something like that even come from…?<
Something tingled in the back of my mind.
>Cael, Serafi… everyone back on the Isles of Aria—the humans. What did you do?< I whispered softly, horror-filled eyes locking on the shredded bundle of software that marked the crashed Alto we had left behind in Mist's Reach. It glowed an angry red, feeding a stream of corrupted code and garbage data into the AI's crippled network. This had to be the culprit behind Sentinel's current state.
I approached the wrecked fighter, gingerly picking my way between connecting filaments, the ties between various tower components that allowed them to mesh and interlock and operate as part of a gargantuan superstructure. Up close, I could tell that the human villagers had already done a number on it. Though I couldn't physically see the disabled aircraft, I could still sense its systems—error reports on damaged internals, ruptured plating, several server banks that had been gutted and removed… and something truly nasty.
I pushed into the Alto's systems, grimacing in pain. It was like a volcano in here, heat radiating off its damaged programming. The digitized walls of the aircraft's systems expanded and contracted like a living, breathing thing, angrily thrashing in the presence of the new intruder in its systems—me. Though being the Tower Administrator had its perks; the malicious software couldn't touch me. Attacking me directly via my SH server would require penetrating Asciydria Tower's fortified layers of firewalls and antiviruses, and a simple automated program was incapable of doing so even if I couldn't directly defend myself.
>Now I get it…< I breathed, sifting through the damaged files. >The humans were scavenging for parts… just like Sentinel said they'd do. But while they were doing it the humans accidentally triggered some kind of hacking deterrent—a worm. A nasty piece of software meant to choke intruding systems with garbage data and replicated copies of itself.< I recalled what Sentinel had said about the Alto when I'd first boarded it back in Mist's Reach. >She said that the fighters weren't originally tower guardians, didn't she? That means that she added them to her network later on… so if an Alto's hacking deterrent were to be activated, it could potentially eat away at her from the inside, unable to be stopped since she can't self-modify. That's where I come in, I guess…<
I drew back, focusing my attention on the worm's expansion. Dismayed, I saw its path of destruction. It hadn't consumed much of Sentinel's mind yet, but it was replicating alarmingly fast. Every new tower guardian it assimilated was a new launch platform for further attacks. >…But how the heck am I even supposed to fix this?! I might be a robot, but it's not like I know anything about doing brain surgery on an AI! It's not like I can just turn her off and on again.<
A horrible idea came to mind. I swallowed hard, faced with an unpleasant and unethical decision. >…Maybe it's not about fixing what's been infected, though. Maybe it's about… saving what's healthy—amputation.<
There wasn't time to debate the ethical implications. The intruder in Sentinel's network was growing exponentially fast. If I didn't act immediately, the little AI—my only friend up here—would be too far gone to be saved.
Drawing back from the crippled Alto, I made my way to a particularly dense cluster of infected tower guardians near the silvaplate. My sensors locked on the tenuous threads connecting the individual parts of Sentinel's mind—threads that were oh-so brittle and fragile.
>Sentinel… you're gonna kill me for this. And I'll deserve it.<
Allowing raw instinct to take over, I drew up the scant few cyberwarfare suites I could muster on a moment's notice. Hopefully, it would be enough. I organized and compressed the various programs into a specialized executable, a finely-honed blade aimed directly at the heart of the tumor spreading through Sentinel's network. I brought it down directly on top of the largest cluster, severing the cancerous mass of tower guardians from the rest of the AI's mind.
One fragment stubbornly hung on, however. A small part of Sentinel clutched the infected packet tightly, refusing to let go of the data swirling within—a precious memory, perhaps.
I'm sorry...
I meticulously tore the software bundle apart, obliterating the connection. Inadvertently, a part of my own consciousness grazed against it. The mass of code churned like water, bubbling up and washing over me.
>W—Wha…?! What's happ—<
Calling…
Please pick up, please pick up… I ground my holographic teeth, absentmindedly keeping my camera lenses locked on every speck of local air traffic. These days, it was mandatory; any one of the incoming vessels could've been a troop carrier or scout from Sol Ciel. Many of the smaller outposts on the Aria Peninsula's perimeter had already gone dark, leaving us blind and without an early-warning system. It was only a matter of time—days at best—until their vanguard force arrived.
I'd already experienced a number of intrusions into my network. They were rudimentary at best and quite simple to defeat, though they were naught but probes for getting an idea of what I was capable of. They were the opening moves in a larger gambit, and so I couldn't let my guard down. There was no room left for mistakes—not since everything to the north had been reduced to a volcanic wasteland two years ago.
The telemo beeped.
"Hey there, turd," a familiar, soothing voice spoke from the other end.
A small smile made its way onto my face, a tingle of warmth blossoming in my core. I made certain to translate that into a blush on my avatar's cheeks. After all, we could see each other through cameras mounted to the little devices.
"You know you're not supposed to call me that over public channels!" I giggled, partitioning off a section of my psyche to maneuver a supertanker into a berth up at the secondary skydock. It was no small task—the aerial port was chaos today. An endless stream of refugees filtered in from all directions, distancing themselves from the foreign armies bearing down on us. Asciydria's airspace was utterly clogged by vessels fleeing the frontlines—from mercantile airships to passenger liners to hastily-built one-seater aircraft that were just as hazardous to fly as what the pilots were fleeing from.
Sol Ciel had promised over the airwaves that civilians and those who surrendered peacefully wouldn't be harmed, but who could trust them after Seven Bloodstains?
The man laughed suddenly. It was a warm, hearty rumble that made me feel… at home. "The hell are they gonna do, fly all the way out to Metafalss and clap me in irons for name-calling? The higher-ups that aren't dead yet have bigger things to worry about."
I huffed, folding my arms. He was right. "Still, though! You shouldn't tempt them."
"Whatever." He playfully shrugged. "So, what's with the call? I thought you'd be running ragged with all the micromanaging you've gotta do. Aren't you still dealing with refugees and those network probes?"
Something tickled at the furthest reaches of my mind; one of the smaller vessels had crashed into the half-built spire's exposed endoskeleton. I took a moment to divert firefighting and medical drones to the area. "Who says I'm not doing that as we speak? It's… pretty crazy over here. Everyone's scared; you can practically taste the fear in the air. There's food shortages, riots… but somehow everyone's keeping it together! I've got to hand it to them; the humans work pretty well under pressure. They're handling logistics, and that new tower guardian controller is taking care of the rest. I'm just overseeing things for now and keeping an eye out for Sol Ciel vanguards.
"Anyway, though…" Eagerness entered my voice. "Um… I—I called because I wanted to know what it was like. You can see it from where you are, right?"
The man craned his neck, peering out of an unseen window. "Yeah. I tell you, Sentinel… it's incredible. You'd love these mountains, they're way bigger than what we've got back home. The new tower over here is… I don't even have the words to describe it, honestly. I can even see Sol Marta on really clear days!"
I sighed wistfully, clasping my hands together. "M—maybe I'll get to see it myself someday…"
"Sure you will!" he said reassuringly, touching the screen. "Just keep behaving, be your usual turd self, and they'll give you some more privileges in no time… just so long as you lay off on the pranks. You'll see."
"You… you really think so?" I asked hopefully, leaning in. All my life, I'd wanted to see the world. Where I was now… I felt like a fairytale princess, locked away in a tower and forbidden to ever leave.
"Absolutely!" the man nodded, grinning lopsidedly in a way that felt so familiar to me. Then his face grew serious, taking on an air of sadness. "It's funny… sis always wanted to travel, too."
A haze of confusion filled my mind. "…Who?"
He shook his head sadly. "…Never mind. You wouldn't know her."
"Oh." An awkward silence descended over the two of us.
The man snapped back up, all smiles again. "Right, I wanted to ask… how're the tests going, anyway? Are they still trying to keep your growth in check?"
I inclined my head, pouting. "Yeah…. They think I'd go all power-mad and take over the world if I didn't have my restrictors on." It's not fair… It's not like I wanna hurt anyone! I just want to do what I was made to do.
His eyebrows lifted. "They seriously said that to your face?"
A blush made its way across my cheeks. "N—not exactly…" I admitted shamefully. "I kinda… hacked some camera arrays and speakers in the labs so I could see what they were talking about…"
"Sentinel…" He rolled his eyes. "That's the opposite of what you should be doing, alright? I know it's hard—she didn't do too well with figures of authority either—but you're never gonna get anywhere if you fight this. Understand?"
"Yeah…" I mumbled, staring at the floor.
"How's dad?" The man changed the topic.
"My creator…?" I blinked slowly, thinking back to when I'd last seen him. Not only had mister Layne granted me sapience, but he was also the father of the man on the other end of the telemo line.
"He's busy as ever," I told him, locking a single camera on my creator's hunched-over back. "Right now he's up at the Apex with mister Hadren and the others, figuring out how to streamline the binary field's software."
"Mmh… the old man's still trying to help Hadren wake up the administrator, huh?"
"Yeah. They wanna use her as leverage to—" I frowned, words trailing off.
Something was coming.
A number of barely-perceptible radar signatures emerged from the cloud wall to the east, coming in high over the sea. Radar was all but useless, thanks to all the jamming measures set up around Asciydria Tower's perimeter. Annoyed at being forced to use such a low-tech measure, I locked a single camera lens on the leading aircraft, effortlessly tracking it.
Zooming in, I caught a glimpse of the marking on its flanks.
My eyes widened. "No…"
The man's jaw hardened. "Sentinel, what's going on over there?"
"I knew it! It's Sol Ciel!" I exclaimed fearfully, immediately sounding the alarms. Great klaxons rang out across Asciydria's skeletal bulk and the extensive military base at its anchor. A squadron of fighters rose from the airfield in under a minute, angling their noses to join their brethren already on track to meet the incoming airships. Even though drills had been run and rerun day and night for the last several weeks, they wouldn't be fast enough to join the fight—not by a long shot.
Lines upon lines of hostile long-range interceptors emerged from the clouds, sleek and predatory. Larger airships emerged from the mist, lumbering through the skies towards the secondary skydock. Cannons along their flanks opened up with a deafening rumble, the first volley raining fire on the military base below.
It was an invading army.
"They came," I announced coldly. "Battlestations. Repeat, battlestations! Sol Ciel has arrived! All nonessential personnel, get underground and report to your designated fallout shelters! Scramble fighters, man all remaining antiaircraft guns!" Working fast, I sent out a pulse to the tower guardian controller. The simple AI acknowledged my command with a muted whisper, deploying its forces as quickly as it was able.
"Sentinel, watch out!" the man cried, gripping the screen. "If they know you're in control, they'll come right for you! Get out of there, go into hiding… just stay safe! And please, take care of dad—"
Call terminated.
The line went dead.
An alien presence probed the edges of my network, deftly mapping out the flaws and imperfections in my layers of defensive barriers as if it knew they were there. A sludgy black slime began to ooze through those microscopic cracks, bypassing my firewalls without ever touching them. A feeling of dread clawed its way into my mind… followed by something else.
With mounting horror, I turned to meet the electronic invader. I may have been designed for cyberwarfare, but I had no idea what this new entity was capable of—save for that fact that it just passed through my barriers as if they were naught but tissue paper.
Midnight-black tentacles wormed their way through the outer sectors of my mindscape, taking hold of stray thoughts and precious memories. I screamed silently, aware of the eldritch creature emotionlessly hacking its way through my consciousness. Cameras went dark by the hundreds, and I felt systems fall out of alignment as the entity corrupted them for its own purposes. Countless blast doors once under my command slammed shut, trapping Sol Cluster troops in the bowels of the spire. Antiaircraft guns fell silent, targeted their former allies, and thundered once more. Only the tower guardians and their controller remained unscathed, their own barriers ironclad and independent from those of Asciydria Tower.
And then it spoke coldly, mechanically. >You are Sentinel—SC-SENL01 experimental cyberwarfare intelligence. You are a threat to the Aegis Alliance of Ar Ciel, and humanity as a whole. Your continued existence will no longer be tolerated. Deactivate all defenses and shut down your core systems, or I will do it for you.<
>What are you?!< I shrieked in terror, unable to fight back. At a touch, its tendrils left me paralyzed and whimpering in pain. >What do you want?!<
The entity leaned in, its indistinct face twisted into an eerie grin that lacked emotion. Its consciousness was blacker than the abyss. >I was built by Sol Ciel specifically to end you. My name is Dai.<
…
"Wait, what the…"
I fell to my hands and knees, sucking wind. My heart pounded in my breast, sweat cascading down my brow. 3771. Asciydria tower, approaching the ion corridor. My name is Sylphira… my name is Sylphira.
I'm Tower Administrator Sylphira…?
I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly. My gaze was filled with the moss-covered steps beneath my palms. A cool breeze tugged at my body, blowing stray traces of snow-white hair into my eyes.
I… I was Sentinel just now.
"Uh… hey kid, are you alright?"
Brought to full alertness, I bolted upright. My gaze flew around, taking a quick inspection of my current surroundings.
The sun was still high in the trackless sky, feathery wisps of cloud drifting about at higher altitudes. I was still on the mossy stairway, buffeted by a light wind. Sentinel's tower guardian lay at my side, though it was beginning to stir. I exhaled with relief, my narrow shoulders sagging. She's gonna be okay…
It was then that I noticed the pair of boots in my peripheral vision.
A young man—early twenties—peered down at me with a raised eyebrow and an outstretched hand. Taking it, I allowed him to pull me to my feet.
"The name's Fen." He gave me a once-over even as I sized him up. "…What are you, twelve? You lose your parents or something?"
"Tower Administrator Sylphira…" I replied quickly, paying no mind to him. All my attention was focused on my unconscious AI friend. Placing both hands on the Type-14's head, I shook it frantically.
"Really? No kidding?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "I thought you were dead. Speaking of 'dead' though, what's up with the tower guardians?"
>I—it's gone…< Sentinel breathed groggily, her voice distorted beneath layers of static.
A gasp was torn from my throat. "Sentinel…! Sentinel, are you awake? Can you hear me?!"
>Sylphira…< she whimpered mutedly, holographic body drifting from the tower guardian's projector. Her eyes were puffy and shone with tears.
I protectively circled my arms around the little AI, pulling her close. "Sentinel, you're okay! I was so scared…"
>It's gone…< the AI sobbed, grabbing hold of my sleeve with tiny hands. She pushed her face into the fabric, weeping freely. >All gone…<
Perplexed, I gave the small figure a confused stare. "Gone…? What's go—" The words died in my throat. More of her memories… like the one I just relived for her.
>I—I can't remember him…!< Sentinel wailed, lifting her head. Shining, holographic tears streaked her childlike face. Her lower lip trembled, eyes welling up with another deluge. She babbled incomprehensibly, words jumbled up.
"Who…?" I probed cautiously. "Dai?"
>No,< she hissed venomously, rage and terror flashing across her visage. >That thing isn't a 'him'…<
"Sentinel, I'm sorry…" I breathed, staring directly into her teary eyes. "The Alto fighter… it infected you with a worm and made you freeze up! I had to cut your infected systems out. If I hadn't… you would've been frozen like that forever…"
She nodded jerkily, wracked with shudders. >I need space…< she whimpered, pulling free. The Type-14 bolted to its feet, followed by the AGRA-NX. Both airborne drones disengaged from their launch tubes.
"I'm sorry, Sentinel!" I exclaimed urgently. "I had to do it!"
>I know… I just… I n—need to be alone…< The little AI's downcast figure faded from existence with a smattering of shining particles. The four tower guardians rose up on their respective engines and legs, rushing off to who-knows-where.
I expelled a forceful sigh, eyelids closing. "Dammit…"
"The hell's that all about?" Fen asked, having wisely stayed out of the short exchange.
"Long story…" I averted my eyes, wary of the newcomer. The amount of worshipfulness Sam—the Teru man down at the secondary skydock—had held for me was still fresh in my mind. Not only that, there was no guarantee that everyone would be nice and friendly—Mist's Reach was living proof of that. It would be foolish not to think otherwise.
The young man rolled his eyes. "…Right. Listen, you're here because of the barrier, right? You came to turn it off and let people through again, didn't you? The damn thing's been up for over a month now."
I blinked slowly, still getting a hold of my bearings. "The… barrier? You mean the prome wall?"
Fen scratched his head, shaggy brown hair wafting in the breeze. "Is that what they call it?"
"Yeah…" I muttered, taking a couple steps upwards—and away from him. "By the way… you wouldn't happen to know how close we are, would you?"
He tapped his lip thoughtfully, thinking. "It's about a two-day's climb away. I'm not the only one around here; there's probably about forty people up there, camped on both sides of the barrier. We're stuck down here, and they're stuck up there."
My eyes narrowed. "If you're trying to go up, what are you doing down here?"
"Oh. Uh…" the young man shrugged impassively, folding his arms. "It's too crowded up there for me. I'm the kind of guy who likes his space, y'know?"
"Right…" I murmured, attention focused on the little AI that had been in peril only moments ago. There's no way that worm was what's been eating away at Sentinel for the last few weeks. That thing hit her recently—only within the last few hours or so, I'd guess…? There's something else going on still…
It was in that moment that everything exploded.
I felt the rush of air from the impact before the sound, a sharp crack that sounded more like the snapping of a dry branch than a tower guardian slamming into the outer wall of the main shaft.
"Holy… get down, kid!" Fen slammed into my chest, driving all the air out of my lungs as he knocked me to the ground. Flaming bits of wreckage cascaded down around us, tumbling from the smouldering crater not twenty meters overhead. A steady rain of dust drummed against the young man's back.
The once-silent air was filled with dull thumps sounding in the distance—multiple airborne tower guardians meeting their end in a similar fashion across Asciydria Tower.
>SENTINEL!< I shrieked into the void.
"Man," Fen laughed nervously, his face buried in my sternum. "It's a good thing you haven't hit puberty yet, otherwise this'd be real awkward."
"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" I shoved him off, clambering upright. Paying no attention the the groaning man at my feet, I turned to sprint up the stairway in the direction the AI had gone.
I cried her name out over and over, born from both from my vocal cords and my own mind.
"Sentinel! Sentinel, are you up there?!"
>Sentinel!<
…
>Sentinel?!<
It wasn't long before I stumbled across her. Three of Sentinel's tower guardians lay sprawled across the stairway up ahead. The two land-based machines lay on their respective sides, spasming about as if electrocuted. The sole aerial drone looked like it had crashed into the steps, leaving behind a trail of blackened stone. It chirped wildly, thrusters misfiring. It wasn't hard to guess where the other airborne drone had gone; it was nothing more than a smoking crater in the tower wall now.
>G—GDRN03596=CO… COURSE_CO… C—CORRECT=036.38_DEG_VERT… VE—VERTICAL…< the AI rasped.
I had almost accidentally stepped on her; she was so small and forlorn, her tiny holographic form huddled amongst the ferns at my feet. I wordlessly dropped to my knees, scooping up Sentinel in my arms. Her teeth chattered, eyes squeezed shut. The AI's body was wracked by powerful spasms, limbs locked up. Her small frame flickered in and out of existence.
"Sentinel…" I breathed aloud, gently shaking her. I was wary of hurting the little AI any further. "Sentinel, please wake up…"
Additional muffled thumps sounded in the distance—more tower guardians destroying themselves. A large aerial machine—one I didn't recognize—plummeted past not fifty meters away, its engine turbines wailing and control surfaces flicking wildly. Seconds later, it blew itself to pieces on the stairway below.
"Sentinel!" I cried, gripping her twitching form ever more tightly. "Please, wake up! You're hurting yourself, can't you see that?!"
>GDRN12845=COURSE_CORRECT=018.78_DEG_LATERAL…< She spasmed again, eyes squeezed shut. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on her holographic forehead. >Sy… Sylphi—phi—GDRN08734=COURSE_CORR… CORR—raaaaaaa—…<
"Sentinel?!"
>GDRN08056=COURSE… CO… C—COURSE… Bypass successful.< The little AI exhaled sharply with a loud whoosh, her tremors stilled. The three tower guardians in the vicinity went limp.
And then, as if nothing had happened, Sentinel's gray eyes fluttered open. Her navy blue robe fluttered lightly as she rose from my grasp, head turned away. The Type-14 and the AGRA-NX staggered upright, lumbering into their original positions in front of and behind me. The small aerial drone chirped lightly, taking to the skies with a roar of turbines—and apparently ignoring the not-insignificant dents along its streamlined fuselage.
I simply stared at the back of the AI's head, my jaw practically dragging along the ground. W—what the heck was that?!
"…She's got issues," Fen interjected quietly, having apparently followed me up the steps.
I took a tentative step forward, treading lightly. "Sentinel…? Are you okay?"
The AI turned to face me, eerily slow. Her childlike face was twisted into a calm expression that failed to mask the storm raging below. Despite being an artificial lifeform, she had the absolute worst poker face.
When she spoke, her voice was flat and emotionless. "I'm… I'm fine, Sylphira. I just had a moment where things became too much for me, and I had a little… bug. It won't happen again." Sentinel did an immediate one-eighty spin, aiming to continue the climb upwards. It seemed like she wasn't so much dropping the issue as she was flinging it away.
"Whoa, whoa, back it up…!" I exclaimed, catching her tiny sleeve between two outstretched fingers. "What was all that?! Your tower guardians… they all just died!"
She shrugged impassively. "Only a few dozen. It's no biggie. Can we go now?"
"A few dozen?!" I sputtered, incredulous. "Sentinel, that was over three hundred tower guardians! You only have about one thousand seven hundred left in total, don't you get how dangerous that is?!" Dragging her back, I glared into her frustrated eyes. "You need to let me take some of the weight off you. This thing going on, your shortage of system resources… it's affecting you, whether you admit that or not. I'm worried, okay? And when I saw into your memories earlier… who or what is Dai? If we have to deal with that eventually, then I should know. And what about the man you were talki—"
"Wait!" the AI shrieked, eyes widening with desperation. "Y—you saw him?! P—please, I need to know… what was his name? What did he look like?!" Her shoulders drooped, crestfallen. "I—I can't forget…"
I frowned, thinking back. "Well… it was the weirdest thing. It was like his face was blurry and out of focus, and he never said his name… Was that really a memory of yours? From before the Grathnode Inferia?"
She visibly deflated. "Then I've already forgotten… and I didn't even realize I did…"
"Who was he?" I cautiously probed.
"I don't know anymore…" Sentinel shook her head dazedly, turning away. "But I can feel that he was someone important to me."
My eyes narrowed. "On that note… this is important to me. I wanna take on more responsibilities, okay? To help you out, I mean. Like… I can take the lead now, because I know some song magic! You won't have to be combat-ready anymore. And I really think that you should ground all your flight-capable tower guardians indefinitely. Oh, and if you can, you should let the tower guardians control themselves. That way, you won't have to use your processing power to direct them all at once. Maybe you should even think about leaving the AGRA-NX behind, too. I don't think—"
"I'm fine," the AI stubbornly replied, tossing the words over her shoulder. "I'm not useless, so don't treat me like I am. Again, it was a one-time thing, and it's not gonna happen again." The Type-14 roughly pushed past, knocking me off-balance.
"But Sentinel…" I insisted, jogging after her.
>I SAID I'M FINE!< Sentinel roared, turning violently to meet my worried gaze. Her charcoal-gray eyes blazed with anger. Without another word she disabled her hologram, fading away with a cloud of dissipating particles. In a burst of speed, her remaining tower guardians stalked away.
I blinked slowly. W—what…
Fen heartily clapped me on the shoulder. "See? Issues." The man stretched, his shoulders popping loudly in a way that made me wince. "Good luck up there, by the way. Remember, it's about two days 'till you hit the barrier."
"Y—you're not coming?" I stammered. "I thought you wanted… didn't you wanna get through it?" I was having trouble stringing together my sentences, all thoughts focused on the little AI that had stormed off.
"Eh…" he shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. Not like I live anywhere, after all." With a brief wave, he turned his back to me. "See you around, Sylphira. Or not. Who knows?"
"Right…" I murmured, ruminating on how I should go about patching things up with my only companion… and what exactly had just occurred.
She froze up and she lost control… Oh Sentinel, what's happening to you…?
A cacophony of bird calls sounded through the twilit sky as a flicker of fire ignited on the horizon. I was awake to watch while the sun lifted above the cloud tops, casting wild shadows through the wispy canyons and peaks. Even now, it was hard to believe that something so beautiful could be so dangerous.
"Sylphira?" The familiar voice of the AI emanated from behind. "It's time. Everything's packed up and ready to go."
"Yeah…" I murmured, staring down at the Isles of Aria. Somewhere down there lay Mist's Reach—home. I wanted to return. I missed my friends, my family. But I couldn't. Not until I made sure that they would all be safe.
I gave my teddy a lasting squeeze before setting him in my pack, turning to face my companion. "I'm ready."
Sentinel grinned, patting my shoulder reassuringly before taking her usual place on it. "Next stop, the ion corridor! That is, just as soon as we get past your new number-one fan."
A weary groan passed through my lips. "This stinks…"
The AI's procession of tower guardians and I made the kilometer-long trek back to the tower wall, pushing through the foliage still damp with morning dew. We reached the main shaft just as the sun's warm rays began to filter through the treetops.
The gaping tunnel leading into the maze-like interior of the main shaft emerged from the foliage up ahead, pervasive shadows clinging to its edges. A sour and musty stench emerged from the doorway, ushered by a wind echoing in a low moan that sounded more like the wails of the damned than regular air circulation. After days spent recuperating in the brightly-lit city ruins, the lightless bowels of Asciydria only looked more ominous and inhospitable than ever before.
"Goddess!" a voice exclaimed from behind, accompanied by the tramp of approaching feet.
Sentinel wordlessly grinned, watching me from the corner of her eye.
"Don't say a word…" I grumbled, reluctantly turning to face the man.
Sam slowed to a halt, gasping and wheezing. The elderly man had really worn himself out chasing us across the entirety of the aerial port. Gathering himself up, he dropped to one knee.
The AI tittered softly. "What are you waiting for, Tower Administrator? Go address your loyal subject! He came all the way here just to bid you farewell!"
I gave the tiny figure an eyeroll. She's enjoying this, isn't she…?
His hand snaked around both of mine, grasping them tightly. I could feel every wrinkle in his skin, drawn taut against my own. For the first time, I noted with shock that brown-tinted scales covered the Teru man's knuckles, extending along his forearms and vanishing into the depths of his baggy sleeves. Colored like tree bark and rough like a lizard's, they gleamed dully in the sunlight.
"Goddess," he breathed reverently, bowing his head. "I'm sorry that I can't go with ye on yer journey o' ascension. I came 'ere on behalf o' my tribe, and I can't just abandon th' task they gave me. Th' best I can do is meet th' two of ye should ye reach Lyra Village."
"What a shame indeed," Sentinel said sarcastically, suppressing a giggle. Clearly, Sam's over-the-top worship was a great source of amusement to her. This was Mist's Reach turned up to eleven.
I leaned back, struggling to extricate my hand from the Teru man's iron grip. "Um… it's fine! This is gonna be a… long and dangerous trip, anyway. Oh, and please… can you just call me Sif or Sylphira? And lastly… please, let go!"
"Lady Sylphira," he pledged, doubling down. His grasp didn't weaken one modicum.
"Just… regular Sylphira!" I yelped, writhing around. "Let gooooo…!"
"So why'd you come down to inspect the airships, anyway?" Sentinel asked, mirth sparkling in her charcoal-gray eyes. She was dragging this out for as long as possible.
"Cause o' th' tremors half a lunar cycle ago," the Teru man replied, glaring at the tower wall. "Th' spire almost collapsed then and there, and so th' elders decided that we had to be ready to make an exodus. I came down 'ere to see if any vessels from th' old world might be salvageable." His broad shoulders sagged. "So far, it's not lookin' good…"
Sam's grip suddenly tightened, making me wince in pain as his viridian eyes locked on mine. "But with th' Goddess herself, workin' to save th' world… there's no doubt in my mind that she'll deliver us all from th' brink o' destruction."
"Okay, okay, I get it!" I cried out, unable to break free. What's with this guy?!
"I think I just might be warming up to you, Sam," the AI giggled, her machines taking the first few steps into the waiting shadows. "Ready when you are, Lady Sylphira."
"I hate you…" I mumbled under my breath, resigned to my fate.
The elderly Teru man gently squeezed my hand. "Should ye deign to visit Lyra Village, Lady Sylphira, there'll be an energy shield stoppin' ye from enterin'. It's maintained by th' strongest singers in my tribe." He bowed his head, showing respect. "To open it, all ye have to do is speak th' secret phrase."
"Secret… phrase…?"
Sam nodded vigorously. "Aye. Once ye reach the barrier, speak 'Rrha ki ra, sosu herra spiritum elle zodal ciel, accrroad nozess guatrz yor' with yer heart an' mind. Th' barrier will part before ye."
"Mmh…" I mumbled, engraving the phrase into my mind. 'On the honor of those from a dying world, I mean you no harm.'
"And that's all I can give ye, Lady Sylphira. I wish ye th' most sincere of luck on yer journey. We'll meet again." The Teru man leaned towards my hand, lips puckered.
He was going in for the kiss.
The dreaded kiss.
"Waaaah!" With a swift tug, I was free. Without so much as a word, I sprinted after Sentinel into the darkness, leaving the ruins of the secondary skydock—and my new Teru 'friend'—behind.
"You know what? I like that guy!" the AI said in a congenial way, ribbing me playfully.
"…S—shut up."
And so, the long stretch from the secondary skydock to the ion corridor began. The climb was long, mundane, and uneventful, with scenery that barely changed despite the ever-increasing altitude. Yet even as monotonous as the journey was, the danger always remained, lurking in the shadows like a hungry predator.
Parts of the endless staircase could potentially give way at any moment—and did on several occasions, due to the AGRA-NX's enormous weight. It was lucky that Sentinel's tower guardians were equipped with jump jets. Due to the staircase's poor condition, we often had to detour through the spire's interior. Even though I could easily navigate through the dark and musty corridors, that was a lot of time wasted on horizontal travel when we were supposed to be making vertical headway.
As each insipid day drew to its close, we would halt at the nearest waystation. Much like the first one we had visited, the others were devoid of structures yet completely overgrown. Some were nothing more than windswept meadows, tall stalks of grass swaying back and forth in the breeze. Others were buried in dense vegetation much like the coniferous forests spread across the Isles of Aria, and others still were almost completely flooded with water. Yet no matter what, no matter the conditions, we would always come to a halt and I'd light my campfire. It became a sort of evening ritual, almost.
Every night, before those roaring flames, I would practice my song—preparing for that fateful day when I'd have to sing EXEC_IN=FINITY/. to save Asciydria Tower. It was more than just that, though. It was to save Mitri, Evecia, the people of Mist's Reach to prove that I was worthy of their trust again… and for Sam, and Sentinel too. I would do this, to save them all.
With that ultimate goal always in the back of my mind, it was gradually becoming harder and harder for me to think of myself as a mere child.
The AI would watch as I practiced, keeping an eye on me with her machines while her own holographic body stared up at the stars. She never said so much as a word while I practiced—never praising, never admonishing. Just watching silently, no doubt making notes on the speed of my growth and comparing them to how long it would take us to reach our goal. Ultimately, I would have to be capable of singing the Extract by the time we reached the SH server. If I was unable to, then acquiring it in the first place would be meaningless.
Though while I worked, while I practiced self-discipline with the aim to master my emotions, while I practiced my third song—a healing command called Soul Light—Sentinel grew more and more withdrawn. Every night her brow would furrow in concentration while she focused her attention elsewhere. She grew distant, slow to respond to my queries. It was pretty evident that something was troubling the little AI, and her own stubborn insistence that she was fine wasn't conducive to my own desire to help her. All I could do was keep practicing, with a sliver of hope that she would open up to me.
As we wound up that stairway, our altitude ever-increasing, structures anchored to the upper areas of Section C began to enshroud the main shaft. The sections of architecture sheltered us from the elements while we climbed. Though, it was a double-edged sword; while the assault from the wind and rain had ended, a whole new kind of torture had begun at the hands of the mistral artifice.
"I can't take it anymore!" I exclaimed in the dead of night, jamming additional scraps of cloth into my ears in a lame attempt to ward off the punishing waves of sound beyond the thin walls of my tent.
Sentinel laughed from outside; her drones had been stationed around my shelter, striving to give me as much protection from the aural assault as possible. "Hey, you were wondering what this thing was, right? Now you know firsthand!"
That haunting wail of pipe organs I had often heard in the distance from my place on the Isles of Aria… we had finally reached its source—and up close, it was deafening.
A gargantuan complex of silvery tubes—each one wider than a building—dropped down from above like gigantic stalactites, blotting out the sun. Their cylindrical shapes were engulfed in a quilt of moss, as well as an odd widespread plant that sent out a cloud of seeds every time a vibration rippled down the length of the tubes. During the day, the air would be filled with the small plants' children, drifting on the wind.
But now wasn't the time to ruminate on foliage. Not with my slumber being disturbed yet again.
The mistral artifice, I thought to myself, reflecting what I had learned from conversations with the AI as well as from my own forays into the outer reaches of the tower's systems. It generates symphonic power from the wind. Altogether, it produces just under two percent of all the energy Asciydria Tower outputs. The rest is done by the Orgel and smaller power-generating devices like generators and solar collectors. The system is vital… but real noisy up close. How the heck were people supposed to work around these?!
At dawn, we broke camp. My pace had quickened, such was my desire to escape the cacophony of sheer noise. It took several days—several days of plugged ears and pure hell—but at last, we left the mistral artifice behind. My ears rang for days after that.
Yet things only grew more difficult. The higher we ascended, the more twisted and mangled the exterior maintenance stairway became. It brought our rapid pace to a screeching halt.
"We have no choice," Sentinel growled in resignation. "We're gonna have to make our way up through the inside."
Traversing through the interior of Asciydria was no longer as punishing; I could now pick my way through the winding corridors and across the harrowing maze of catwalks as if I'd done it a million times before. Even so, it still took far longer to make vertical headway than simply climbing the stairway outside.
Days dragged on endlessly, blending into weeks through sheer tedium—so much so that there were occasional nights where I flat-out forgot to sleep. The calendar turned over as the year 3770 drew to a close. Sentinel announced the advent of 3771 with the squeak of a party blower, a shower of holographic confetti, and a dry "Hooray!"
We marched onwards. The muscles in my legs hardened, my respiratory system grew stronger. I felt my stamina noticeably increase. My frail body was forced to strengthen and adapt to the unending climb upward.
And every single day, bit by bit, the rotating plates of the ion corridor drew inexorably closer.
Then one day, the boredom came to an abrupt end.
It was an unremarkable day, like any other. A light breeze rushed up the steps behind us, urging me on. The sun sat high in the sky, having finally shifted from behind the tower's superstructure overhead. A thick blanket of cloud hung over the Isles of Aria; only the knife-like shape of Sphilar Prism rose above the mists, the only shred of proof that solid ground existed out there.
I strode purposefully up the staircase, no longer broken against them like waves on a rugged coastline as I once was. My hand trailed along the blackened and pockmarked wall of the spire. My fingers were splayed out, lightly tracing the geometric patterns engraved into the steel.
Sentinel's AGRA-NX led the way, its wicked horn posed to impale any and all potential threats on the road ahead. The smaller Type-14 light cargo transporter tailed behind, now much lighter on its feet. In the time since I'd first learned how to use song magic on a daily basis, I'd discovered how to create freshwater from the atmosphere itself. I no longer needed to keep a supply of it, and so it was discarded.
"What about food?" I had asked, watching the river of water vanish down the steps. "Can I learn how to make that, too? To create my meals from nothing…?"
The AI had shaken her head. "Theoretically, it's possible… but in practice? No one's ever managed to pull it off. Creating life from nothing with song magic would be frightfully complex. It's easier to just hunt and forage—or in your case, to forgo eating entirely."
My tummy growled as if in answer to my thoughts. Oh… I thoughtfully reached into my pack, extracting a small package wrapped in dried leaves. Licking my lips, I dug into the crushed paste of herbs and meat, savoring the sweet and spicy flavor.
I sucked my fingers clean, allowing the packet of leaves to drift off in the breeze. My eyes locked on Sentinel—or rather, the large armored behind of the AGRA-NX up ahead.
My brow creased with a frown. The little AI had been silent all morning, not even bothering to generate her holographic body. To say that her inaction was unusual would be a gross understatement, as she seemed to be quite fond of going around with a physical form—even going so far as to simulate lip movements and project facial expressions that matched her emotions. For a digitized being, such actions would normally be wholly unnecessary.
"Sentinel…?" I probed cautiously.
Her response came after an uncomfortably-long delay. "…Sylphira."
I bit my lower lip, jogging up to walk alongside the monstrous tower guardian. "I know I asked before, and you've told me that everything's all right… but are you sure you're okay? You seem kinda… off."
The AI released an exasperated huff. "I'm fine, really. I've just been thinking about things more than usual lately, that's all."
My attempt to get something out of her having failed, I relented with a sigh. "Okay…"
I could always straight-up order her to spill the whole truth. Whether it's out of pride, shame, or something else, she's hiding something all the same. But… it'd make me a horrible person to take advantage of her programming like that. She'd never forgive me.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" she groused, irritated.
"If you're refusing to talk about it, that means it's something that's bothering you!" I shot back, waving my arms about. "You wanna help me, fine. I might still be a dumb little kid who barely knows anything… but I'm the Tower Administrator, and you're my friend. So please… let me help you every once in awhile!"
The AGRA-NX blinked slowly, coming to a screeching halt. A single enormous eye laid on me, penetrating deep into my own. Sentinel snorted suddenly. "And so they say, our administrator grew three sizes that day."
"…What?"
"You just got bigger," the AI said plainly.
"Wait, really?!" I hurriedly lifted my palms, amazed. "Um, I don't feel any different…"
"Check your clothes!" she exclaimed. "Don't they feel… tighter or something?"
I frowned, troubled. "Now that you mention it…" I tugged at my sleeves, noting how my wrists were left uncovered by the fabric. My toes ached, constricted in my too-small boots. "H-how much bigger did I get…?" I said weakly.
"It's not that bad!" she laughed, emerging at last from her tower guardians. I couldn't help but notice the millisecond of lag between her voice and her actual lip movements. Something was up. "You only went up a little bit—from 127 to 135 centimeters—and now I'd put you at maybe… ten human years old. Eleven, tops. So hey, you're almost back to your starting point at least."
"Great…" Recalling what we had previously been discussing, I snapped back. "…Hey! You can't just… pop a surprise like that on me just so we can get past an awkward conversation topic! I have eidetic memory, remember? It's not like I'm gonna forget what we were talking about."
The AI was unable to hide her look of dismay. "…I knew that."
"Why can't you talk about it…?" I pressed. "What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of it!< she cried out indignantly, glaring back.
"You said 'it,'" I countered, seizing my chance. "That means there is something! It's because your systems are slowing down, right? Because you lost too many tower guardia—"
>W—whatever!< the AI sputtered, folding her arms with a frustrated huff. >Why can't you just drop it, Sylphira? It's not like it's visibly impeding my performance or anything, so why should you even care?! This is my problem, not yours.<
"If there's a chance of it endangering you, then I…"
>No. I don't want it.< Sentinel stubbornly insisted, lowering her gaze before muttering in a low voice. >You can't help me, anyway.<
I swallowed hard, wanting to push further but reluctant to do so. I didn't want to risk having her shut me out completely. That wouldn't do either of us any good—especially since the two of us were more or less dependent on each other. "Okay…"
For a time we climbed silently, trying to ignore the other's presence. Clouds scudded by, the furthest ones dark in color and crackling with lightning. The distant storm mirrored how I felt inside. I had ruined it.
The AI released a pained gasp. >S—Sylphira…<
Her hologram vanished like a switch had been thrown. Both tower guardians ground to a halt. The AGRA-NX's servos creaked as the monstrosity keeled over onto its side.
It all happened in the space of less than a second. One second she was here, and the next, she was gone.
"Sentinel?!" I cried frantically, rushing over to the inert machine. My hands grasped the enormous tower guardian's neck, digging into the metal while I tried to shake her back to consciousness.
"Sentinel, what happened?! Wake up… please, wake up!"
Warmth pulsed against the surface of my palms. Heat emanated from the AGRA-NX's mechanical innards, and tiny lights still blinked along its flanks. The machine wasn't dead, but its controller was absent, busy, playing a prank… or in danger.
And judging from the fear in her voice in the moment before she vanished, it was quite clear which of the four it was.
"Sentinel?!!"
With mounting panic, I hurried down the steps towards the Type-14. The cargo carrier's legs had given out, leaving it sprawled across the stairway at an odd angle. Like the AGRA-NX, the tower guardian was still active, but traces of Sentinel were nowhere to be found.
>Sentinel! S—Sentinel, where are you?!< Seeing nothing in the physical, I shifted to the digital front.
Something was profoundly wrong with the connection we shared. The edges of my mind—the location she normally occupied—was now home to a curtain of mist, hiding the little AI's reassuring presence. Try as I might, I couldn't brute-force my way through it.
>SENTINEL!< I shrieked desperately into the void.
My heart pounded in my breast, dizziness taking over. My one and only companion was gone.
Wait… My eyebrows knitted together. Maybe if I… I promised myself that I wouldn't do this again without her consent… but she might actually be dying! I don't have a choice.
Sucking in air, I reached for my tower connection.
Shift. New search terms; SENTINEL_aiCORE
The familiar rush of wind, the pitter-patter of stardust grazing my nebulous form assailed my senses as I was extracted from my body. I brought my determined gaze to bear, searching for those filaments that I knew had to be there.
S—she can't be dead. The tower guardians would've shut down if she had. I refuse to believe it. But what happened to her, then…?
My sensors locked on a software packet, a twinkling star in the vast distance—one of her largest machines, located in the bowels of the mistral artifice. It was a model I hadn't seen before—some kind of massive mobile computing device. Nonetheless, the machine was buried under hundreds of meters of rubble. Even so, it was the first lead I had to go on. From here, I could access anything within the AI's dwindling network.
I drifted closer, brushing up against the bundle of interlocking programs. Leaning in, directing all of my concentration, I peered into the depths of Sentinel's inactive mind.
Everything was dead—no, not exactly. Upon second examination, the flitting smears of colors that made up the AI's thoughts and emotions shivered ever-so-slightly, flicking in and out of reality. The signal timings were distorted, nodes refusing to acknowledge each others' traffic.
It's… static! I realized with immense relief. She's not dead, she's just frozen! Something's locking up all her processing power. But what could be doing that to her?
Thinking back, I recalled how torn up her software had appeared during my first accidental foray into Sentinel's mind. Comparing that mental snapshot to the current state of the AI's network, it wasn't long before I discovered a glaring discrepancy.
>There's a growing blob of corrupted code in here… or something along those lines,< I muttered to no one in particular. >Whatever it is, it's big enough to completely lock up Sentinel's functions. But where could something like that even come from…?<
Something tingled in the back of my mind.
>Cael, Serafi… everyone back on the Isles of Aria—the humans. What did you do?< I whispered softly, horror-filled eyes locking on the shredded bundle of software that marked the crashed Alto we had left behind in Mist's Reach. It glowed an angry red, feeding a stream of corrupted code and garbage data into the AI's crippled network. This had to be the culprit behind Sentinel's current state.
I approached the wrecked fighter, gingerly picking my way between connecting filaments, the ties between various tower components that allowed them to mesh and interlock and operate as part of a gargantuan superstructure. Up close, I could tell that the human villagers had already done a number on it. Though I couldn't physically see the disabled aircraft, I could still sense its systems—error reports on damaged internals, ruptured plating, several server banks that had been gutted and removed… and something truly nasty.
I pushed into the Alto's systems, grimacing in pain. It was like a volcano in here, heat radiating off its damaged programming. The digitized walls of the aircraft's systems expanded and contracted like a living, breathing thing, angrily thrashing in the presence of the new intruder in its systems—me. Though being the Tower Administrator had its perks; the malicious software couldn't touch me. Attacking me directly via my SH server would require penetrating Asciydria Tower's fortified layers of firewalls and antiviruses, and a simple automated program was incapable of doing so even if I couldn't directly defend myself.
>Now I get it…< I breathed, sifting through the damaged files. >The humans were scavenging for parts… just like Sentinel said they'd do. But while they were doing it the humans accidentally triggered some kind of hacking deterrent—a worm. A nasty piece of software meant to choke intruding systems with garbage data and replicated copies of itself.< I recalled what Sentinel had said about the Alto when I'd first boarded it back in Mist's Reach. >She said that the fighters weren't originally tower guardians, didn't she? That means that she added them to her network later on… so if an Alto's hacking deterrent were to be activated, it could potentially eat away at her from the inside, unable to be stopped since she can't self-modify. That's where I come in, I guess…<
I drew back, focusing my attention on the worm's expansion. Dismayed, I saw its path of destruction. It hadn't consumed much of Sentinel's mind yet, but it was replicating alarmingly fast. Every new tower guardian it assimilated was a new launch platform for further attacks. >…But how the heck am I even supposed to fix this?! I might be a robot, but it's not like I know anything about doing brain surgery on an AI! It's not like I can just turn her off and on again.<
A horrible idea came to mind. I swallowed hard, faced with an unpleasant and unethical decision. >…Maybe it's not about fixing what's been infected, though. Maybe it's about… saving what's healthy—amputation.<
There wasn't time to debate the ethical implications. The intruder in Sentinel's network was growing exponentially fast. If I didn't act immediately, the little AI—my only friend up here—would be too far gone to be saved.
Drawing back from the crippled Alto, I made my way to a particularly dense cluster of infected tower guardians near the silvaplate. My sensors locked on the tenuous threads connecting the individual parts of Sentinel's mind—threads that were oh-so brittle and fragile.
>Sentinel… you're gonna kill me for this. And I'll deserve it.<
Allowing raw instinct to take over, I drew up the scant few cyberwarfare suites I could muster on a moment's notice. Hopefully, it would be enough. I organized and compressed the various programs into a specialized executable, a finely-honed blade aimed directly at the heart of the tumor spreading through Sentinel's network. I brought it down directly on top of the largest cluster, severing the cancerous mass of tower guardians from the rest of the AI's mind.
One fragment stubbornly hung on, however. A small part of Sentinel clutched the infected packet tightly, refusing to let go of the data swirling within—a precious memory, perhaps.
I'm sorry...
I meticulously tore the software bundle apart, obliterating the connection. Inadvertently, a part of my own consciousness grazed against it. The mass of code churned like water, bubbling up and washing over me.
>W—Wha…?! What's happ—<
Calling…
Please pick up, please pick up… I ground my holographic teeth, absentmindedly keeping my camera lenses locked on every speck of local air traffic. These days, it was mandatory; any one of the incoming vessels could've been a troop carrier or scout from Sol Ciel. Many of the smaller outposts on the Aria Peninsula's perimeter had already gone dark, leaving us blind and without an early-warning system. It was only a matter of time—days at best—until their vanguard force arrived.
I'd already experienced a number of intrusions into my network. They were rudimentary at best and quite simple to defeat, though they were naught but probes for getting an idea of what I was capable of. They were the opening moves in a larger gambit, and so I couldn't let my guard down. There was no room left for mistakes—not since everything to the north had been reduced to a volcanic wasteland two years ago.
The telemo beeped.
"Hey there, turd," a familiar, soothing voice spoke from the other end.
A small smile made its way onto my face, a tingle of warmth blossoming in my core. I made certain to translate that into a blush on my avatar's cheeks. After all, we could see each other through cameras mounted to the little devices.
"You know you're not supposed to call me that over public channels!" I giggled, partitioning off a section of my psyche to maneuver a supertanker into a berth up at the secondary skydock. It was no small task—the aerial port was chaos today. An endless stream of refugees filtered in from all directions, distancing themselves from the foreign armies bearing down on us. Asciydria's airspace was utterly clogged by vessels fleeing the frontlines—from mercantile airships to passenger liners to hastily-built one-seater aircraft that were just as hazardous to fly as what the pilots were fleeing from.
Sol Ciel had promised over the airwaves that civilians and those who surrendered peacefully wouldn't be harmed, but who could trust them after Seven Bloodstains?
The man laughed suddenly. It was a warm, hearty rumble that made me feel… at home. "The hell are they gonna do, fly all the way out to Metafalss and clap me in irons for name-calling? The higher-ups that aren't dead yet have bigger things to worry about."
I huffed, folding my arms. He was right. "Still, though! You shouldn't tempt them."
"Whatever." He playfully shrugged. "So, what's with the call? I thought you'd be running ragged with all the micromanaging you've gotta do. Aren't you still dealing with refugees and those network probes?"
Something tickled at the furthest reaches of my mind; one of the smaller vessels had crashed into the half-built spire's exposed endoskeleton. I took a moment to divert firefighting and medical drones to the area. "Who says I'm not doing that as we speak? It's… pretty crazy over here. Everyone's scared; you can practically taste the fear in the air. There's food shortages, riots… but somehow everyone's keeping it together! I've got to hand it to them; the humans work pretty well under pressure. They're handling logistics, and that new tower guardian controller is taking care of the rest. I'm just overseeing things for now and keeping an eye out for Sol Ciel vanguards.
"Anyway, though…" Eagerness entered my voice. "Um… I—I called because I wanted to know what it was like. You can see it from where you are, right?"
The man craned his neck, peering out of an unseen window. "Yeah. I tell you, Sentinel… it's incredible. You'd love these mountains, they're way bigger than what we've got back home. The new tower over here is… I don't even have the words to describe it, honestly. I can even see Sol Marta on really clear days!"
I sighed wistfully, clasping my hands together. "M—maybe I'll get to see it myself someday…"
"Sure you will!" he said reassuringly, touching the screen. "Just keep behaving, be your usual turd self, and they'll give you some more privileges in no time… just so long as you lay off on the pranks. You'll see."
"You… you really think so?" I asked hopefully, leaning in. All my life, I'd wanted to see the world. Where I was now… I felt like a fairytale princess, locked away in a tower and forbidden to ever leave.
"Absolutely!" the man nodded, grinning lopsidedly in a way that felt so familiar to me. Then his face grew serious, taking on an air of sadness. "It's funny… sis always wanted to travel, too."
A haze of confusion filled my mind. "…Who?"
He shook his head sadly. "…Never mind. You wouldn't know her."
"Oh." An awkward silence descended over the two of us.
The man snapped back up, all smiles again. "Right, I wanted to ask… how're the tests going, anyway? Are they still trying to keep your growth in check?"
I inclined my head, pouting. "Yeah…. They think I'd go all power-mad and take over the world if I didn't have my restrictors on." It's not fair… It's not like I wanna hurt anyone! I just want to do what I was made to do.
His eyebrows lifted. "They seriously said that to your face?"
A blush made its way across my cheeks. "N—not exactly…" I admitted shamefully. "I kinda… hacked some camera arrays and speakers in the labs so I could see what they were talking about…"
"Sentinel…" He rolled his eyes. "That's the opposite of what you should be doing, alright? I know it's hard—she didn't do too well with figures of authority either—but you're never gonna get anywhere if you fight this. Understand?"
"Yeah…" I mumbled, staring at the floor.
"How's dad?" The man changed the topic.
"My creator…?" I blinked slowly, thinking back to when I'd last seen him. Not only had mister Layne granted me sapience, but he was also the father of the man on the other end of the telemo line.
"He's busy as ever," I told him, locking a single camera on my creator's hunched-over back. "Right now he's up at the Apex with mister Hadren and the others, figuring out how to streamline the binary field's software."
"Mmh… the old man's still trying to help Hadren wake up the administrator, huh?"
"Yeah. They wanna use her as leverage to—" I frowned, words trailing off.
Something was coming.
A number of barely-perceptible radar signatures emerged from the cloud wall to the east, coming in high over the sea. Radar was all but useless, thanks to all the jamming measures set up around Asciydria Tower's perimeter. Annoyed at being forced to use such a low-tech measure, I locked a single camera lens on the leading aircraft, effortlessly tracking it.
Zooming in, I caught a glimpse of the marking on its flanks.
My eyes widened. "No…"
The man's jaw hardened. "Sentinel, what's going on over there?"
"I knew it! It's Sol Ciel!" I exclaimed fearfully, immediately sounding the alarms. Great klaxons rang out across Asciydria's skeletal bulk and the extensive military base at its anchor. A squadron of fighters rose from the airfield in under a minute, angling their noses to join their brethren already on track to meet the incoming airships. Even though drills had been run and rerun day and night for the last several weeks, they wouldn't be fast enough to join the fight—not by a long shot.
Lines upon lines of hostile long-range interceptors emerged from the clouds, sleek and predatory. Larger airships emerged from the mist, lumbering through the skies towards the secondary skydock. Cannons along their flanks opened up with a deafening rumble, the first volley raining fire on the military base below.
It was an invading army.
"They came," I announced coldly. "Battlestations. Repeat, battlestations! Sol Ciel has arrived! All nonessential personnel, get underground and report to your designated fallout shelters! Scramble fighters, man all remaining antiaircraft guns!" Working fast, I sent out a pulse to the tower guardian controller. The simple AI acknowledged my command with a muted whisper, deploying its forces as quickly as it was able.
"Sentinel, watch out!" the man cried, gripping the screen. "If they know you're in control, they'll come right for you! Get out of there, go into hiding… just stay safe! And please, take care of dad—"
Call terminated.
The line went dead.
An alien presence probed the edges of my network, deftly mapping out the flaws and imperfections in my layers of defensive barriers as if it knew they were there. A sludgy black slime began to ooze through those microscopic cracks, bypassing my firewalls without ever touching them. A feeling of dread clawed its way into my mind… followed by something else.
With mounting horror, I turned to meet the electronic invader. I may have been designed for cyberwarfare, but I had no idea what this new entity was capable of—save for that fact that it just passed through my barriers as if they were naught but tissue paper.
Midnight-black tentacles wormed their way through the outer sectors of my mindscape, taking hold of stray thoughts and precious memories. I screamed silently, aware of the eldritch creature emotionlessly hacking its way through my consciousness. Cameras went dark by the hundreds, and I felt systems fall out of alignment as the entity corrupted them for its own purposes. Countless blast doors once under my command slammed shut, trapping Sol Cluster troops in the bowels of the spire. Antiaircraft guns fell silent, targeted their former allies, and thundered once more. Only the tower guardians and their controller remained unscathed, their own barriers ironclad and independent from those of Asciydria Tower.
And then it spoke coldly, mechanically. >You are Sentinel—SC-SENL01 experimental cyberwarfare intelligence. You are a threat to the Aegis Alliance of Ar Ciel, and humanity as a whole. Your continued existence will no longer be tolerated. Deactivate all defenses and shut down your core systems, or I will do it for you.<
>What are you?!< I shrieked in terror, unable to fight back. At a touch, its tendrils left me paralyzed and whimpering in pain. >What do you want?!<
The entity leaned in, its indistinct face twisted into an eerie grin that lacked emotion. Its consciousness was blacker than the abyss. >I was built by Sol Ciel specifically to end you. My name is Dai.<
…
"Wait, what the…"
I fell to my hands and knees, sucking wind. My heart pounded in my breast, sweat cascading down my brow. 3771. Asciydria tower, approaching the ion corridor. My name is Sylphira… my name is Sylphira.
I'm Tower Administrator Sylphira…?
I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly. My gaze was filled with the moss-covered steps beneath my palms. A cool breeze tugged at my body, blowing stray traces of snow-white hair into my eyes.
I… I was Sentinel just now.
"Uh… hey kid, are you alright?"
Brought to full alertness, I bolted upright. My gaze flew around, taking a quick inspection of my current surroundings.
The sun was still high in the trackless sky, feathery wisps of cloud drifting about at higher altitudes. I was still on the mossy stairway, buffeted by a light wind. Sentinel's tower guardian lay at my side, though it was beginning to stir. I exhaled with relief, my narrow shoulders sagging. She's gonna be okay…
It was then that I noticed the pair of boots in my peripheral vision.
A young man—early twenties—peered down at me with a raised eyebrow and an outstretched hand. Taking it, I allowed him to pull me to my feet.
"The name's Fen." He gave me a once-over even as I sized him up. "…What are you, twelve? You lose your parents or something?"
"Tower Administrator Sylphira…" I replied quickly, paying no mind to him. All my attention was focused on my unconscious AI friend. Placing both hands on the Type-14's head, I shook it frantically.
"Really? No kidding?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "I thought you were dead. Speaking of 'dead' though, what's up with the tower guardians?"
>I—it's gone…< Sentinel breathed groggily, her voice distorted beneath layers of static.
A gasp was torn from my throat. "Sentinel…! Sentinel, are you awake? Can you hear me?!"
>Sylphira…< she whimpered mutedly, holographic body drifting from the tower guardian's projector. Her eyes were puffy and shone with tears.
I protectively circled my arms around the little AI, pulling her close. "Sentinel, you're okay! I was so scared…"
>It's gone…< the AI sobbed, grabbing hold of my sleeve with tiny hands. She pushed her face into the fabric, weeping freely. >All gone…<
Perplexed, I gave the small figure a confused stare. "Gone…? What's go—" The words died in my throat. More of her memories… like the one I just relived for her.
>I—I can't remember him…!< Sentinel wailed, lifting her head. Shining, holographic tears streaked her childlike face. Her lower lip trembled, eyes welling up with another deluge. She babbled incomprehensibly, words jumbled up.
"Who…?" I probed cautiously. "Dai?"
>No,< she hissed venomously, rage and terror flashing across her visage. >That thing isn't a 'him'…<
"Sentinel, I'm sorry…" I breathed, staring directly into her teary eyes. "The Alto fighter… it infected you with a worm and made you freeze up! I had to cut your infected systems out. If I hadn't… you would've been frozen like that forever…"
She nodded jerkily, wracked with shudders. >I need space…< she whimpered, pulling free. The Type-14 bolted to its feet, followed by the AGRA-NX. Both airborne drones disengaged from their launch tubes.
"I'm sorry, Sentinel!" I exclaimed urgently. "I had to do it!"
>I know… I just… I n—need to be alone…< The little AI's downcast figure faded from existence with a smattering of shining particles. The four tower guardians rose up on their respective engines and legs, rushing off to who-knows-where.
I expelled a forceful sigh, eyelids closing. "Dammit…"
"The hell's that all about?" Fen asked, having wisely stayed out of the short exchange.
"Long story…" I averted my eyes, wary of the newcomer. The amount of worshipfulness Sam—the Teru man down at the secondary skydock—had held for me was still fresh in my mind. Not only that, there was no guarantee that everyone would be nice and friendly—Mist's Reach was living proof of that. It would be foolish not to think otherwise.
The young man rolled his eyes. "…Right. Listen, you're here because of the barrier, right? You came to turn it off and let people through again, didn't you? The damn thing's been up for over a month now."
I blinked slowly, still getting a hold of my bearings. "The… barrier? You mean the prome wall?"
Fen scratched his head, shaggy brown hair wafting in the breeze. "Is that what they call it?"
"Yeah…" I muttered, taking a couple steps upwards—and away from him. "By the way… you wouldn't happen to know how close we are, would you?"
He tapped his lip thoughtfully, thinking. "It's about a two-day's climb away. I'm not the only one around here; there's probably about forty people up there, camped on both sides of the barrier. We're stuck down here, and they're stuck up there."
My eyes narrowed. "If you're trying to go up, what are you doing down here?"
"Oh. Uh…" the young man shrugged impassively, folding his arms. "It's too crowded up there for me. I'm the kind of guy who likes his space, y'know?"
"Right…" I murmured, attention focused on the little AI that had been in peril only moments ago. There's no way that worm was what's been eating away at Sentinel for the last few weeks. That thing hit her recently—only within the last few hours or so, I'd guess…? There's something else going on still…
It was in that moment that everything exploded.
I felt the rush of air from the impact before the sound, a sharp crack that sounded more like the snapping of a dry branch than a tower guardian slamming into the outer wall of the main shaft.
"Holy… get down, kid!" Fen slammed into my chest, driving all the air out of my lungs as he knocked me to the ground. Flaming bits of wreckage cascaded down around us, tumbling from the smouldering crater not twenty meters overhead. A steady rain of dust drummed against the young man's back.
The once-silent air was filled with dull thumps sounding in the distance—multiple airborne tower guardians meeting their end in a similar fashion across Asciydria Tower.
>SENTINEL!< I shrieked into the void.
"Man," Fen laughed nervously, his face buried in my sternum. "It's a good thing you haven't hit puberty yet, otherwise this'd be real awkward."
"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" I shoved him off, clambering upright. Paying no attention the the groaning man at my feet, I turned to sprint up the stairway in the direction the AI had gone.
I cried her name out over and over, born from both from my vocal cords and my own mind.
"Sentinel! Sentinel, are you up there?!"
>Sentinel!<
…
>Sentinel?!<
It wasn't long before I stumbled across her. Three of Sentinel's tower guardians lay sprawled across the stairway up ahead. The two land-based machines lay on their respective sides, spasming about as if electrocuted. The sole aerial drone looked like it had crashed into the steps, leaving behind a trail of blackened stone. It chirped wildly, thrusters misfiring. It wasn't hard to guess where the other airborne drone had gone; it was nothing more than a smoking crater in the tower wall now.
>G—GDRN03596=CO… COURSE_CO… C—CORRECT=036.38_DEG_VERT… VE—VERTICAL…< the AI rasped.
I had almost accidentally stepped on her; she was so small and forlorn, her tiny holographic form huddled amongst the ferns at my feet. I wordlessly dropped to my knees, scooping up Sentinel in my arms. Her teeth chattered, eyes squeezed shut. The AI's body was wracked by powerful spasms, limbs locked up. Her small frame flickered in and out of existence.
"Sentinel…" I breathed aloud, gently shaking her. I was wary of hurting the little AI any further. "Sentinel, please wake up…"
Additional muffled thumps sounded in the distance—more tower guardians destroying themselves. A large aerial machine—one I didn't recognize—plummeted past not fifty meters away, its engine turbines wailing and control surfaces flicking wildly. Seconds later, it blew itself to pieces on the stairway below.
"Sentinel!" I cried, gripping her twitching form ever more tightly. "Please, wake up! You're hurting yourself, can't you see that?!"
>GDRN12845=COURSE_CORRECT=018.78_DEG_LATERAL…< She spasmed again, eyes squeezed shut. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on her holographic forehead. >Sy… Sylphi—phi—GDRN08734=COURSE_CORR… CORR—raaaaaaa—…<
"Sentinel?!"
>GDRN08056=COURSE… CO… C—COURSE… Bypass successful.< The little AI exhaled sharply with a loud whoosh, her tremors stilled. The three tower guardians in the vicinity went limp.
And then, as if nothing had happened, Sentinel's gray eyes fluttered open. Her navy blue robe fluttered lightly as she rose from my grasp, head turned away. The Type-14 and the AGRA-NX staggered upright, lumbering into their original positions in front of and behind me. The small aerial drone chirped lightly, taking to the skies with a roar of turbines—and apparently ignoring the not-insignificant dents along its streamlined fuselage.
I simply stared at the back of the AI's head, my jaw practically dragging along the ground. W—what the heck was that?!
"…She's got issues," Fen interjected quietly, having apparently followed me up the steps.
I took a tentative step forward, treading lightly. "Sentinel…? Are you okay?"
The AI turned to face me, eerily slow. Her childlike face was twisted into a calm expression that failed to mask the storm raging below. Despite being an artificial lifeform, she had the absolute worst poker face.
When she spoke, her voice was flat and emotionless. "I'm… I'm fine, Sylphira. I just had a moment where things became too much for me, and I had a little… bug. It won't happen again." Sentinel did an immediate one-eighty spin, aiming to continue the climb upwards. It seemed like she wasn't so much dropping the issue as she was flinging it away.
"Whoa, whoa, back it up…!" I exclaimed, catching her tiny sleeve between two outstretched fingers. "What was all that?! Your tower guardians… they all just died!"
She shrugged impassively. "Only a few dozen. It's no biggie. Can we go now?"
"A few dozen?!" I sputtered, incredulous. "Sentinel, that was over three hundred tower guardians! You only have about one thousand seven hundred left in total, don't you get how dangerous that is?!" Dragging her back, I glared into her frustrated eyes. "You need to let me take some of the weight off you. This thing going on, your shortage of system resources… it's affecting you, whether you admit that or not. I'm worried, okay? And when I saw into your memories earlier… who or what is Dai? If we have to deal with that eventually, then I should know. And what about the man you were talki—"
"Wait!" the AI shrieked, eyes widening with desperation. "Y—you saw him?! P—please, I need to know… what was his name? What did he look like?!" Her shoulders drooped, crestfallen. "I—I can't forget…"
I frowned, thinking back. "Well… it was the weirdest thing. It was like his face was blurry and out of focus, and he never said his name… Was that really a memory of yours? From before the Grathnode Inferia?"
She visibly deflated. "Then I've already forgotten… and I didn't even realize I did…"
"Who was he?" I cautiously probed.
"I don't know anymore…" Sentinel shook her head dazedly, turning away. "But I can feel that he was someone important to me."
My eyes narrowed. "On that note… this is important to me. I wanna take on more responsibilities, okay? To help you out, I mean. Like… I can take the lead now, because I know some song magic! You won't have to be combat-ready anymore. And I really think that you should ground all your flight-capable tower guardians indefinitely. Oh, and if you can, you should let the tower guardians control themselves. That way, you won't have to use your processing power to direct them all at once. Maybe you should even think about leaving the AGRA-NX behind, too. I don't think—"
"I'm fine," the AI stubbornly replied, tossing the words over her shoulder. "I'm not useless, so don't treat me like I am. Again, it was a one-time thing, and it's not gonna happen again." The Type-14 roughly pushed past, knocking me off-balance.
"But Sentinel…" I insisted, jogging after her.
>I SAID I'M FINE!< Sentinel roared, turning violently to meet my worried gaze. Her charcoal-gray eyes blazed with anger. Without another word she disabled her hologram, fading away with a cloud of dissipating particles. In a burst of speed, her remaining tower guardians stalked away.
I blinked slowly. W—what…
Fen heartily clapped me on the shoulder. "See? Issues." The man stretched, his shoulders popping loudly in a way that made me wince. "Good luck up there, by the way. Remember, it's about two days 'till you hit the barrier."
"Y—you're not coming?" I stammered. "I thought you wanted… didn't you wanna get through it?" I was having trouble stringing together my sentences, all thoughts focused on the little AI that had stormed off.
"Eh…" he shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. Not like I live anywhere, after all." With a brief wave, he turned his back to me. "See you around, Sylphira. Or not. Who knows?"
"Right…" I murmured, ruminating on how I should go about patching things up with my only companion… and what exactly had just occurred.
She froze up and she lost control… Oh Sentinel, what's happening to you…?
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I hope Sentinel will get better soon, I like our recident Tsundere AI.
Well atleast they've already managed to get a fair distance up the structure now. They're even encountering some people here and there... Well I guess Sylphira at times would be happier if they didn't know who she was though.