The reactions from Lyntael had Eternalis largely powering through them, as he had received more punishment from Aurora, both jokingly and seriously. As such, he hadn't noticed his vitality completely plummeting from the immense electrical discharge that Lyntael had inadvertently unloaded onto him in her panic, before she scrambled away from him. The anger that he had displayed towards Bishop afterwards also helped towards masking his awareness over exactly how injured he had become. However, as soon as his operator came out to display himself on the screen, Eternalis staggered in place momentarily, as a great feeling of weakness suddenly overcame him, spreading out from his chest.
"...?" Confused over the sudden episode, he looked down, and saw half of his body melted away from the electrical discharge, but also slowly regenerating itself from the damage dealt. "Ugh!" he grunted, bracing against the urge to fall over. It surprised him, he wasn't quite expecting Lyntael to output enough to completely drain him. Newfound respect took root as he focused on maintaining his standing position as his recovery processes worked overtime to patch up the effects of Lyntael's traumatic reactions. Harke was focused on Bishop for the moment, and didn't see how his Navi was doing, and thus both of them listened to her explanation, and subsequent demonstration.
The sequence of events that unfolded elicited confused stares for a moment, eventually unraveling into acceptance. Having seen the previous two corpses entombed in the stones, Bishop's destroyed head didn't render much of a reaction from neither operator nor Navi; the glowing rings interested them much more. If what she showed them was true, then Bishop really was nothing more of a steward of the area, and had no ill intentions of unjustly keeping them there. Harke sighed in resignation. "Alright, I guess I can accept that," he said. The operator turned to Eternalis, before he jumped in his seat at the sight of the half-melted Eternalis. "Eternalis?! Wha--"
The Navi, however, was quick to cut him off. "It's okay, I'm okay, I just... need a little time to pick myself up," he said, demonstrating it as he grunted slightly and sprouted a good bit of his molten half back into action. The Navi stretched out for a moment, getting his movements in check. He then turned to Lyntael, reaching out towards her before stopping himself, remembering his own rather battered state. "You alright to go, Lyntael? It's still a little suspicious, but we can't really help it if we want to leave now," he said, ready to leave the area with her as soon as she acquiesced.
[RP Flavor: Influx Aegis Active.]
Sneaking out with friends
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Lyntael's teeth clicked shut again after her meandering outburst, though she still panted heavily, her heart racing in her chest. Calm was slow to return, but the fact that Bishop herself seemed uncaring about the intrusion she'd perpetrated, and the discomfort it had caused, wasn't helping her. She swallowed and tried to keep her breath steady, staring at the other woman with her teeth clenched tight. Her rigid stance half-hiding behind another occupied stone became a sudden flinch, eyes widening again as the woman 'tested' herself. Ghost or not, she hadn't meant it really, but before she could raise a hand the process had stopped itself. What was even going on here, she had to wonder.
Any reaction she might have been about to suggest was cut away by a sharp gasp, both hands clasping up over her mouth as Bishop revealed the more grisly details of her status; she really was just like the other ones imprisoned here. She could only really stand to look at what she was seeing for a moment before she had to look away, and instead cast her eyes to Eternalis instead, to see how her friend was taking it. This wasn't the best course action as it turned out, as the young girl turned in time to see her companion's body slump into a near critical melt-down, the damage she'd inadvertently dealt him catching up now into a disfigured, melted mess. The gasp branched into a more audible squeaked cry of shock to see him that way, and her hands crept up form politely covering her mouth to desperately obscuring most of her face and eyes as well.
"Eternalis! Oh light, I, I—!" Despite his heavily melted and mutilated state, the gooey navi near her waved it off and continued showing more concern for her than himself. Through parted gaps in her fingers, Lyntael could see his body beginning the process of regenerating fresh slime at a rapid rate, but the damage still looked terrible to her eyes. She did her best to not in acceptance as he reassured both her and Harke that he was alright, though she bit her lips and focused as hard as she could on not letting nay more sparks escape for now, strain or not — her body was still trying to balance itself out from her earlier expenditures, but she held it back and suppressed the need, small snaps and cracks continuing in her hair.
She did her best to keep it together through the rest of Bishop's explanation, but where it left her thoughts by the end was that... really, it was hard to see how she was effectively different from any other navigator, now — if the rings were meant to be stabilising her code by filling in the damaged parts, how was that different from... well... her mind stumbled for what it was reaching for... from a prosthetic, she supposed... If she had been revived from another navi who had died, but for some reason they hadn't been able to reconstruct everything to keep her stable... was she still not just her own navi, even so? Lyntael felt her thoughts trying to go around in circles and she looked back and forth between Bishop, Harke and Etneralis again. If she hadn't been so scared before, it would all be very interesting, but at this point all she really wanted was to get out and away from here. She was considering saying as much, her thoughts drifting about what Bishop had to say about not letting them go... surely there didn't seem to be anything stopping them from leaving, as far as she knew, but Eternalis seemed to accept that they were... stuck..? Trapped in some fashion..? At least, he seemed to believe that they were without some other assistance and that along sent a fresh chill of worry through the girl. She held her comment and simply nodded instead.
"I'm... I'm ok. I think. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't think I'm safe to touch right now, though, so... um, please.. just stay back a little, ok? I'm sorry." Without thinking, she hugged at herself again, looking down and away from Eternalis part way through her answer. Instead, her eyes traced over the nearby gravestones, checking to see if she'd done any more damage to her surrounds than just the shocks to her friend. Bishop hadn't seemed affected, though maybe her... status... was a reason for that.
"Let's just go and see. If we're actually trapped here, what choice have we got..." she swallowed again, peeking up at Eternalis nervously to see if there was any confirmation from him that they were, indeed, locked in. "I... I wish Rogan was here. I know he acts like he doesn't care, but I feel... I feel safer, when I know he's watching." She looked down, mostly at her feet as she began to follow after Eternalis at a short distance, keeping a small space between herself and anyone else while she continued to calm herself.
Any reaction she might have been about to suggest was cut away by a sharp gasp, both hands clasping up over her mouth as Bishop revealed the more grisly details of her status; she really was just like the other ones imprisoned here. She could only really stand to look at what she was seeing for a moment before she had to look away, and instead cast her eyes to Eternalis instead, to see how her friend was taking it. This wasn't the best course action as it turned out, as the young girl turned in time to see her companion's body slump into a near critical melt-down, the damage she'd inadvertently dealt him catching up now into a disfigured, melted mess. The gasp branched into a more audible squeaked cry of shock to see him that way, and her hands crept up form politely covering her mouth to desperately obscuring most of her face and eyes as well.
"Eternalis! Oh light, I, I—!" Despite his heavily melted and mutilated state, the gooey navi near her waved it off and continued showing more concern for her than himself. Through parted gaps in her fingers, Lyntael could see his body beginning the process of regenerating fresh slime at a rapid rate, but the damage still looked terrible to her eyes. She did her best to not in acceptance as he reassured both her and Harke that he was alright, though she bit her lips and focused as hard as she could on not letting nay more sparks escape for now, strain or not — her body was still trying to balance itself out from her earlier expenditures, but she held it back and suppressed the need, small snaps and cracks continuing in her hair.
She did her best to keep it together through the rest of Bishop's explanation, but where it left her thoughts by the end was that... really, it was hard to see how she was effectively different from any other navigator, now — if the rings were meant to be stabilising her code by filling in the damaged parts, how was that different from... well... her mind stumbled for what it was reaching for... from a prosthetic, she supposed... If she had been revived from another navi who had died, but for some reason they hadn't been able to reconstruct everything to keep her stable... was she still not just her own navi, even so? Lyntael felt her thoughts trying to go around in circles and she looked back and forth between Bishop, Harke and Etneralis again. If she hadn't been so scared before, it would all be very interesting, but at this point all she really wanted was to get out and away from here. She was considering saying as much, her thoughts drifting about what Bishop had to say about not letting them go... surely there didn't seem to be anything stopping them from leaving, as far as she knew, but Eternalis seemed to accept that they were... stuck..? Trapped in some fashion..? At least, he seemed to believe that they were without some other assistance and that along sent a fresh chill of worry through the girl. She held her comment and simply nodded instead.
"I'm... I'm ok. I think. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't think I'm safe to touch right now, though, so... um, please.. just stay back a little, ok? I'm sorry." Without thinking, she hugged at herself again, looking down and away from Eternalis part way through her answer. Instead, her eyes traced over the nearby gravestones, checking to see if she'd done any more damage to her surrounds than just the shocks to her friend. Bishop hadn't seemed affected, though maybe her... status... was a reason for that.
"Let's just go and see. If we're actually trapped here, what choice have we got..." she swallowed again, peeking up at Eternalis nervously to see if there was any confirmation from him that they were, indeed, locked in. "I... I wish Rogan was here. I know he acts like he doesn't care, but I feel... I feel safer, when I know he's watching." She looked down, mostly at her feet as she began to follow after Eternalis at a short distance, keeping a small space between herself and anyone else while she continued to calm herself.
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"Management is at the far back of the Memory Fault." Bishop explained, leading them past several more graveyards as they continued down the path. "We call this the Path of Tears; it is not literal, born from crying navis or anything like that, but when the Memory Fault was programmed... a somber, rainy mood seemed the most appropriate. Do either of you like the rain? I know it is uncommon, in the net." Bishop laughed. "Then again, maybe it's foolish to ask an Aqua navi whether he likes water?"
Having seen Bishop's wound first-hand, having seen the fact of her death clear as a picture, it was difficult to not look at the back of her head as they walked, at the silver hair and the veil that hid it from view. Had the veil always been a part of her design? Had it been added after the fact?
Did it hurt her still, to know what she had lost, or to feel the metal rings grafted onto her code?
Eventually the group began to approach another temple-like building. Hewn from white marble, supported by columns with lapis bands and gold inlays, this place was more ornamented than the rest of the Memory Fault. Inside the building was what appeared at first glance to be a vast library, but all of the books had strange, chilling titles. WolfmanMan.exe. BlastMaster.exe. Gigaphore.exe. Tumult.exe. Radiant.exe...
Rows, and rows, and rows of them. "Welcome to the Hall of Epitaphs." Bishop explained, gesturing toward the shelves. "Often, navi ghosts that come to the Memory Fault are on their last legs; Neither violent enough to require a grave, nor complete enough to be a subject for recovery, like myself. Those who fit neither bill have their non-corrupted code decompiled and packed into a new format container." Bishop retrieved one of the books from the shelf. "WaterLily.exe. One of my favorites." Bishop smiled tenderly at the book. "Some of these epitaphs are more readable than others, but they are only truly active while held and being read, and most of them love to be read."
Bishop began to flip through WaterLily's pages. "The books are filled with their thoughts, sometimes. Sometimes the books will remember a part of their life, and so the book is filled with a story. Sometimes it's poems, sometimes-" She tapped a particular page, and a piano melody began to play, mixing with the dulled sound of the rain outside. "-the music of their lives can be remembered. As for how I know that most of them enjoy being read..." Bishop flipped past many empty pages to the back of the book, then held it out for Eternalis and Lyntael to read. The pages she held out to them were scrawled with "Thank you", repeated over and over in hand-drawn script. "A new one of these appears every time I spent a while reading a book that likes being read. I consider many of them friends, of a sort." Bishop placed WaterLily back on the shelf.
"If you would like to read any of these, you can. I'm sure they would appreciate it." Bishop said, a wistful sort of smile crossing her face.
Having seen Bishop's wound first-hand, having seen the fact of her death clear as a picture, it was difficult to not look at the back of her head as they walked, at the silver hair and the veil that hid it from view. Had the veil always been a part of her design? Had it been added after the fact?
Did it hurt her still, to know what she had lost, or to feel the metal rings grafted onto her code?
Eventually the group began to approach another temple-like building. Hewn from white marble, supported by columns with lapis bands and gold inlays, this place was more ornamented than the rest of the Memory Fault. Inside the building was what appeared at first glance to be a vast library, but all of the books had strange, chilling titles. WolfmanMan.exe. BlastMaster.exe. Gigaphore.exe. Tumult.exe. Radiant.exe...
Rows, and rows, and rows of them. "Welcome to the Hall of Epitaphs." Bishop explained, gesturing toward the shelves. "Often, navi ghosts that come to the Memory Fault are on their last legs; Neither violent enough to require a grave, nor complete enough to be a subject for recovery, like myself. Those who fit neither bill have their non-corrupted code decompiled and packed into a new format container." Bishop retrieved one of the books from the shelf. "WaterLily.exe. One of my favorites." Bishop smiled tenderly at the book. "Some of these epitaphs are more readable than others, but they are only truly active while held and being read, and most of them love to be read."
Bishop began to flip through WaterLily's pages. "The books are filled with their thoughts, sometimes. Sometimes the books will remember a part of their life, and so the book is filled with a story. Sometimes it's poems, sometimes-" She tapped a particular page, and a piano melody began to play, mixing with the dulled sound of the rain outside. "-the music of their lives can be remembered. As for how I know that most of them enjoy being read..." Bishop flipped past many empty pages to the back of the book, then held it out for Eternalis and Lyntael to read. The pages she held out to them were scrawled with "Thank you", repeated over and over in hand-drawn script. "A new one of these appears every time I spent a while reading a book that likes being read. I consider many of them friends, of a sort." Bishop placed WaterLily back on the shelf.
"If you would like to read any of these, you can. I'm sure they would appreciate it." Bishop said, a wistful sort of smile crossing her face.
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Eternalis nodded in response to Lyntael's apologies with a warm smile as he bent down to pat Sparky's head, in order to calm him down. The pup responded hesitantly to him, before letting out a low rumble as he relaxed his protective stance from earlier. Looking upwards at Lyntael, he smiled. "Well, glad you're alright. I don't know if we're actually trapped in here, though, but I kind of had a feeling we were, and judging from Bishop's explanation, I'm probably right. I don't think any of us could answer to Rogan if you were to vanish on us, though--" he said, catching himself mid-sentence, as he picked up Sparky into his arms; he was intending to continue it with "I'm not sure about how much he cares like you say he does," but thought better of it. Instead, he opted to switch tracks-- "we should probably hurry, in case he comes to check on you at some point for whatever reason," before walking over to follow Bishop.
In the middle of the walk, he whispered to his side, at the floating window that showed his operator, waiting with an anxious expression. "Thanks for the cut-in, Harke. This place really has both of us on edge, it seems," he said, cradling Sparky tighter, while the pup continued to eye Bishop in front of them with a suspicious leer.
Harke's brow furrowed. "Don't thank me yet. Wait until you're out of there. I'm getting pretty antsy myself," the operator said, tensing up in his seat.
Meanwhile, Bishop's question got Eternalis's attention, and he answered promptly. "Don't really mind the rain. It's just water," he said, noticing that he was unconsciously drawn to the back of Bishop's head, where he had seen the enormous hole earlier. Slightly uncomfortably, he began looking around the area instead, noting that they were slowly approaching another building. The magnificently decorated temple towered over them as they entered with uncertain faces and unsteady hearts. Even more so when the vast collection of books surrounded them, and the names on their spines sent a chill up Eternalis's own (decidedly metaphorical) one.
"Some kind of storage facility...?" muttered Harke through the comms window, as he was also taken in by the sight.
Bishop's explanation made it all the more chilling--'spirits' entrapped in book form, destined to spend the rest of their lives as faceless books, only being able to post words onto sheets of digital paper, perhaps a musical number or two. Craning over to look at the book that Bishop displayed to them confirmed his thoughts even more, and a feeling of dread came over him. He did not want to be here any longer than he could manage. "This doesn't feel much better than the graveyard we just left," he said with a distraught face. "As happy as you say it would make them, I'll have to pass on reading." In his arms, Sparky also shrank into his master's arms, as if echoing his sentiments, while Eternalis himself turned to Lyntael to see what she thought of the place.
In the middle of the walk, he whispered to his side, at the floating window that showed his operator, waiting with an anxious expression. "Thanks for the cut-in, Harke. This place really has both of us on edge, it seems," he said, cradling Sparky tighter, while the pup continued to eye Bishop in front of them with a suspicious leer.
Harke's brow furrowed. "Don't thank me yet. Wait until you're out of there. I'm getting pretty antsy myself," the operator said, tensing up in his seat.
Meanwhile, Bishop's question got Eternalis's attention, and he answered promptly. "Don't really mind the rain. It's just water," he said, noticing that he was unconsciously drawn to the back of Bishop's head, where he had seen the enormous hole earlier. Slightly uncomfortably, he began looking around the area instead, noting that they were slowly approaching another building. The magnificently decorated temple towered over them as they entered with uncertain faces and unsteady hearts. Even more so when the vast collection of books surrounded them, and the names on their spines sent a chill up Eternalis's own (decidedly metaphorical) one.
"Some kind of storage facility...?" muttered Harke through the comms window, as he was also taken in by the sight.
Bishop's explanation made it all the more chilling--'spirits' entrapped in book form, destined to spend the rest of their lives as faceless books, only being able to post words onto sheets of digital paper, perhaps a musical number or two. Craning over to look at the book that Bishop displayed to them confirmed his thoughts even more, and a feeling of dread came over him. He did not want to be here any longer than he could manage. "This doesn't feel much better than the graveyard we just left," he said with a distraught face. "As happy as you say it would make them, I'll have to pass on reading." In his arms, Sparky also shrank into his master's arms, as if echoing his sentiments, while Eternalis himself turned to Lyntael to see what she thought of the place.
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Despite reassurance, Lyntael kept herself a few paces away from Eternalis while she rubbed at her own arms, nervous. she gave him a worried nod and attempted a smile to show she understood, but between Bishop's condition, and the generally mortality-oriented atmosphere, she was stuck wanting to flee, and knowing sh had to follow deeper to do that. She swallowed and stepped in after Eternalis as they moved on, trailing behind and to the side just enough to make sure there was no risk of accidental contact. Her shoulders did hunch slightly at her friend's attempt at a more casual remark.
"He... He won't, not for a few hours. He's working. He always tells me not to bother him until he's finished. He needs.. to be serious and, um, put out the right image, when he's dealing with the people he does, and he says, seeing me would break that effect beyond recovery. He won't check for hours yet." she shrugged and cast her eyes down again, trying to shrug off the fairly pathetic tone of her explanation. Bishop's explanation pulled her attention out of it, however, and she blinked a few times.
"I... I like the rain. I always thought rain felt nice. Um, Bishop... How, ah... How long have you been here? I know, that things like weather were much rarer, years and years ago, but... I mean... Rain isn't any less common than any other type of weather really... Although, I guess, not in the Sharo or Hades regions, of course, or over in Netfrica, I suppose..." Her eyes struggled not to linger around the back of their host's head as they walked, an she tore he eyes away to look elsewhere while she answered. It was somewhat sad, she thought, if Bishop was her own person, but still restricted to this one place, and not ever able to leave. If she'd been here so long that she still thought active life ecosystems across the net were not the standard, she had to have been here for years.
As they walked, Lyntael eventually started to reach her hands out to the falling rain, letting the water trickle between her fingers and over her skin. she closed her eyes as she walked, opening them just every few moments to make sure she didn't stumble or veer, and instead drew a slim current of wind about her and around the group, letting it play over her and between the rainfall as she took longer breaths; it was a calming exercise more than anything else, and Etneralis would see the young girl walking carefully, eyes mostly closed and taking long, slow breaths while her fingers played absently in the air by her sides; her hair had stopped crackling at least, and as much as her expression was still troubled, most of the overt fear seemed to have faded by now.
She opened her eyes properly when they approached somewhere new, glancing up towards Eternalis to follow his lead on things. Bishop wasn't hesitating on leading them inside, however, and she followed after without much of a pause. If the management she had been talking about were sensible and civilised, then hopefully the creepy feeling was just unfortunate coincidence. Inside, however, it was not a neat and tidy clerical office, but something every bit as macabre as the graves outside. Lyntael couldn't stop her eyes from reading the name on each book in turn as she walked, and morbidly, her steps slowed as her gaze moved over each one.
On the whole, it seemed... she wanted to say barbaric, in a way. She felt her mind rebelling against what was being described to her, but without an immediate answer. Every instinct inside her screamed that this was horrible and twisted, that this couldn't be the best way to handle this kind of issue, but the more she tried to trace the gut reactions she was feeling, the more she came up against the question of what else; it was all well and good to say that navis who were hurt could be saved and restored, and as far as she knew the margin between being able to be fully restored, and being completely destroyed beyond trace was so narrow as to be almost non-existent, these days... it had been a much fuzzier, broader margin, even as little as a decade before she was born, perhaps, but... thoughts tumbled one over the other. Maybe this really had been the best they could do at one time? but surely not, it was horrid; it rent the personhood from the beings contained here, but retained a part of them like some kind of semi-living remnant. It wasn't life, and it wasn't peace, it was just some ghastly in-between state... and so the thought circle started again while she looked around the rows and rows of books, each one representing an actual navigator; someone who had once been a living person.
Unnoticed, her breathing had quickened again as she looked around, eyes darting ahead of the turn of her head each time. One hand had come up to her chest, rubbing nervous circles around her emblem without her being aware of it. When she noticed Eternalis looking to her she swallowed, then looked back to the books.
"I... I have to know..." It came out as a worried mumble, more than anything else and she looked back to the line of books reaching out a hand. It hesitated once or twice, before, wincing, she extended the rest of the way to lift one carefully off the shelf and open the cover. She didn't know what she was expecting; half fearful, half hopeful, she unconsciously braced herself for any kind of mental or emotional assault that might come from handling one of the books, wincing despite her apparent determination.
"He... He won't, not for a few hours. He's working. He always tells me not to bother him until he's finished. He needs.. to be serious and, um, put out the right image, when he's dealing with the people he does, and he says, seeing me would break that effect beyond recovery. He won't check for hours yet." she shrugged and cast her eyes down again, trying to shrug off the fairly pathetic tone of her explanation. Bishop's explanation pulled her attention out of it, however, and she blinked a few times.
"I... I like the rain. I always thought rain felt nice. Um, Bishop... How, ah... How long have you been here? I know, that things like weather were much rarer, years and years ago, but... I mean... Rain isn't any less common than any other type of weather really... Although, I guess, not in the Sharo or Hades regions, of course, or over in Netfrica, I suppose..." Her eyes struggled not to linger around the back of their host's head as they walked, an she tore he eyes away to look elsewhere while she answered. It was somewhat sad, she thought, if Bishop was her own person, but still restricted to this one place, and not ever able to leave. If she'd been here so long that she still thought active life ecosystems across the net were not the standard, she had to have been here for years.
As they walked, Lyntael eventually started to reach her hands out to the falling rain, letting the water trickle between her fingers and over her skin. she closed her eyes as she walked, opening them just every few moments to make sure she didn't stumble or veer, and instead drew a slim current of wind about her and around the group, letting it play over her and between the rainfall as she took longer breaths; it was a calming exercise more than anything else, and Etneralis would see the young girl walking carefully, eyes mostly closed and taking long, slow breaths while her fingers played absently in the air by her sides; her hair had stopped crackling at least, and as much as her expression was still troubled, most of the overt fear seemed to have faded by now.
She opened her eyes properly when they approached somewhere new, glancing up towards Eternalis to follow his lead on things. Bishop wasn't hesitating on leading them inside, however, and she followed after without much of a pause. If the management she had been talking about were sensible and civilised, then hopefully the creepy feeling was just unfortunate coincidence. Inside, however, it was not a neat and tidy clerical office, but something every bit as macabre as the graves outside. Lyntael couldn't stop her eyes from reading the name on each book in turn as she walked, and morbidly, her steps slowed as her gaze moved over each one.
On the whole, it seemed... she wanted to say barbaric, in a way. She felt her mind rebelling against what was being described to her, but without an immediate answer. Every instinct inside her screamed that this was horrible and twisted, that this couldn't be the best way to handle this kind of issue, but the more she tried to trace the gut reactions she was feeling, the more she came up against the question of what else; it was all well and good to say that navis who were hurt could be saved and restored, and as far as she knew the margin between being able to be fully restored, and being completely destroyed beyond trace was so narrow as to be almost non-existent, these days... it had been a much fuzzier, broader margin, even as little as a decade before she was born, perhaps, but... thoughts tumbled one over the other. Maybe this really had been the best they could do at one time? but surely not, it was horrid; it rent the personhood from the beings contained here, but retained a part of them like some kind of semi-living remnant. It wasn't life, and it wasn't peace, it was just some ghastly in-between state... and so the thought circle started again while she looked around the rows and rows of books, each one representing an actual navigator; someone who had once been a living person.
Unnoticed, her breathing had quickened again as she looked around, eyes darting ahead of the turn of her head each time. One hand had come up to her chest, rubbing nervous circles around her emblem without her being aware of it. When she noticed Eternalis looking to her she swallowed, then looked back to the books.
"I... I have to know..." It came out as a worried mumble, more than anything else and she looked back to the line of books reaching out a hand. It hesitated once or twice, before, wincing, she extended the rest of the way to lift one carefully off the shelf and open the cover. She didn't know what she was expecting; half fearful, half hopeful, she unconsciously braced herself for any kind of mental or emotional assault that might come from handling one of the books, wincing despite her apparent determination.
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'Snowshoveler.exe', the book's spine read. Opening it revealed something akin to a diary.
"Day 1: Oh my goodness, Sharo Net is beautiful! I've been tasked with keeping some of the main thoroughfares clean of the snow terrain, which seemed like kind of a slog honestly, but I've decided to go all in! My operator was kind enough to humor me with a rename and some new signatures, so no longer am I Í̧̕͟͝ļ҉̡̧͡l̵̛̀͝ȩ̴̀͢g̴̴i̢̧͢͏̧b̀͜l̵̀é̛͘͞͞, now I'm Snowshoveler.exe, and I've got my brand-new targeted terrain change signatures to prove it! It's a little above and beyond the call of duty, but I've even invented some heater terrain to go with the terrain changes, so the navis that walk them can stay nice and warm!
Day 3: The heaters apparently cause terrain glitches when the snow terrain tries to spread back over. Management got mad at me for creating what they described as a "Mini Crackatoa" in front of the Sharoan PD net offices. They reset all my signatures to be just normal terrain changes, and my operator got reprimanded... but he says it's not my fault, and at least the snow is still pretty!
Day 17: This snow is so annoying sometimes, you know? I just want it to stay off the paths for a while, is that so hard to ask? I go, I change it, I change it again, I make a nice, pretty line between my assigned points for the day, and then I turn around and it's all fragging covered up again! Sigh. At least it's peaceful.
Day 24: WHY CAN'T THEY JUST PROGRAM THE TERRAIN TO SELF-CHANGE BACK TO NORMAL?
Day 27: OR PROGRAM THE SNOW TERRAIN TO NOT SPREAD ITSELF? OR MAYBE TURN OFF THE SNOWING FOR A WHILE?
Day 38: I met another navi today! She was really cute, and we spent a long time talking while I cleaned the paths! I think she likes me. I won't forget you, I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵! She made some weird comments, though, about how I looked just like another snow shoveler? I thought that was pretty weird, but I guess I wouldn't know, I've never seen another of the path-cleaner navis...
Day 42: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵ showed up again! We spent a lot of time talking today. She seemed to think it was funny when I got irritated at the snow, so I played it up a little and made her giggle. Her laugh is soooo cute! Ahhh... Just hearing it warms my heart... I'm not so mad about the snow anymore, if it means I get to spend even a moment talking with my angel. ♥
Day 49: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵ shows up to talk with me almost every day, now! It's really helped me keep my spirits up... I get a lot more work done after we're done talking, and she even points out ways I can improve! She mentioned she wouldn't be able to talk with me for a few days, and the sneaky thing let it slip that she'd be elsewhere in sharo for a couple days! Maybe I'll stop by for a surprise visit.
Day 54: This wasn't supposed to happen. I have to, I have to act normal. I have to act like I haven't seen anything.
Day 55: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵, that witch, showed up again today. It's hard for me to carry on talking with her like normal. I was so stupid! So, so, so stupid!
Day 58: I think she knows. She's spent more and more time talking with me about how I seem depressed, or how I've gotten less and less done. She's asked if she's distracting me-- I lied. I told her yes. Maybe that will get her to leave me alone for a few days.
Day 59: It didn't.
Day 63: She had to 'go somewhere else' for a few days again, but I know the truth now, and I checked. There she was, like clockwork! With "him!" No, should I even say 'him'? I'm sure the dumb schmuck would be just as surprised if he saw me... especially with us both being the same guy!
Day 64: I've confirmed it. There's at least 30 other "Snowshoveler.exe" running around Sharo, keeping the paths clean. Their routes all seem to be coordinated so they don't see each other, ever. I had to work hand over hand at my post to get the work done fast enough for me to snoop, but I still think they suspect something. What should I do about this? Should I talk to my... brothers? Should I try to free them?
Day 66: When I showed up to work today, she was there with two Sharoan Official navis. They can only really be here for one thing. I'm not going out like that, so I disconnected from my PET and ran. I'm sorry, brothers...
Day 73: It's getting harder and harder to avoid the viruses.
Day 80: I figured they would never suspect me being in the hot Netfrica Net, and there's thankfully few viruses here that have an advantage against my water element. It's so hot though... I kind of miss the snow.
Day 88: Thi̶s͢ ̡is ̨i͘t,͡ ͘I͏ t̕hiǹk̨.̡ I g̡ot ̷in̵to à ͡s͞c̨u͏ffļe ͞with̵ ͟so̸m̶e͝ viruse̸s that́ ̸weņt̷ re͜a҉l͟ ͢b͢aḑ, a͘nd͏ wh̴il͢e ̶I wơn ҉I ͝c͡a̛n'͏t̸ m͝ov͘e̡ ͝m̕ỳ l͏eft leg̵ ̸an͘y̶ mǫre.̢ ̵I ̛won't̕ be ͘able҉ to ̴fig̨h͝t ̵li̛ke͢ ̧t́his҉. ͢Í j̨ust҉ h̸op͏e̢ my̸ b͘r͝other͜s̴ ͝do̡n'͏t g͏et p̕u̕n҉i̧s̕hed̛ ́f͜ǫr ̛wh͠at I̵ did̶. ̛Or.͢.̴. it ͟feels we͠ir͘d,̸ b̨ut ͢I̷ ͡şt̷ill ́don҉'҉t͡ want he̕r to̷ ͝g̷ét́ pu̷ni̷shed҉ ei͘t̶h͟er̵.̴ M̷ayb͟e͟ ͢i͘t̨ w͠a̛s ̢ą ͏s͠c̴ri̡pt̷, ̢or s͞o̧m̡et͜h͝ing͡ ҉s͡h́e ̸w͞as ̴tr̶a̢i͞nȩd͝ ̴t͝o̵ do, bu̶t͢ I͠ s҉ti҉ll҉ l̕oved͢ her҉.͢
Day 90: S̶̵̛o̕m̡ȩ͘͟ m̡͢o̷̡͠r̸̡͠e̶ v͟͟i̴͠r̨͏ú̕s̵è͢s͠ ̶͟͠f̕͞o̸ú͝nd̨̀ ̸҉ḿę͠.̵͘ ̀͜I̸͜͡ ́͡ǵu̸͝͞ess̕̕͜ th͏i̧s is͠͏͏ ̧͢͟į̀ţ̶.̴̕"
The next page is full of thank yous, and as Lyntael looks at them, a new one appears amongst the rest. At the bottom of the page is a short, simple phrase:
"If you ever see a snow-shoveler, please give him a hug. He needs it."
Once Lyntael seemed to be done reading the book, Bishop spoke up again. "To answer your earlier question, mmm... I think I've been here about 120 network revision cycles? That would be about... 10 of the human years, I think. Did you enjoy the book? I haven't read that one very often, but we often get some aqua navis from Sharo in here that get very weepy when they read it."
"Day 1: Oh my goodness, Sharo Net is beautiful! I've been tasked with keeping some of the main thoroughfares clean of the snow terrain, which seemed like kind of a slog honestly, but I've decided to go all in! My operator was kind enough to humor me with a rename and some new signatures, so no longer am I Í̧̕͟͝ļ҉̡̧͡l̵̛̀͝ȩ̴̀͢g̴̴i̢̧͢͏̧b̀͜l̵̀é̛͘͞͞, now I'm Snowshoveler.exe, and I've got my brand-new targeted terrain change signatures to prove it! It's a little above and beyond the call of duty, but I've even invented some heater terrain to go with the terrain changes, so the navis that walk them can stay nice and warm!
Day 3: The heaters apparently cause terrain glitches when the snow terrain tries to spread back over. Management got mad at me for creating what they described as a "Mini Crackatoa" in front of the Sharoan PD net offices. They reset all my signatures to be just normal terrain changes, and my operator got reprimanded... but he says it's not my fault, and at least the snow is still pretty!
Day 17: This snow is so annoying sometimes, you know? I just want it to stay off the paths for a while, is that so hard to ask? I go, I change it, I change it again, I make a nice, pretty line between my assigned points for the day, and then I turn around and it's all fragging covered up again! Sigh. At least it's peaceful.
Day 24: WHY CAN'T THEY JUST PROGRAM THE TERRAIN TO SELF-CHANGE BACK TO NORMAL?
Day 27: OR PROGRAM THE SNOW TERRAIN TO NOT SPREAD ITSELF? OR MAYBE TURN OFF THE SNOWING FOR A WHILE?
Day 38: I met another navi today! She was really cute, and we spent a long time talking while I cleaned the paths! I think she likes me. I won't forget you, I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵! She made some weird comments, though, about how I looked just like another snow shoveler? I thought that was pretty weird, but I guess I wouldn't know, I've never seen another of the path-cleaner navis...
Day 42: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵ showed up again! We spent a lot of time talking today. She seemed to think it was funny when I got irritated at the snow, so I played it up a little and made her giggle. Her laugh is soooo cute! Ahhh... Just hearing it warms my heart... I'm not so mad about the snow anymore, if it means I get to spend even a moment talking with my angel. ♥
Day 49: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵ shows up to talk with me almost every day, now! It's really helped me keep my spirits up... I get a lot more work done after we're done talking, and she even points out ways I can improve! She mentioned she wouldn't be able to talk with me for a few days, and the sneaky thing let it slip that she'd be elsewhere in sharo for a couple days! Maybe I'll stop by for a surprise visit.
Day 54: This wasn't supposed to happen. I have to, I have to act normal. I have to act like I haven't seen anything.
Day 55: I̵͠ļ́͢͢ĺ̨̕͝e̕͞g͜͞i̴̕b̷̡̀͟͏l̨̡҉̧҉e̸̵͢͜.̷̧̕e̸̡x̶̧́̕e̷̵, that witch, showed up again today. It's hard for me to carry on talking with her like normal. I was so stupid! So, so, so stupid!
Day 58: I think she knows. She's spent more and more time talking with me about how I seem depressed, or how I've gotten less and less done. She's asked if she's distracting me-- I lied. I told her yes. Maybe that will get her to leave me alone for a few days.
Day 59: It didn't.
Day 63: She had to 'go somewhere else' for a few days again, but I know the truth now, and I checked. There she was, like clockwork! With "him!" No, should I even say 'him'? I'm sure the dumb schmuck would be just as surprised if he saw me... especially with us both being the same guy!
Day 64: I've confirmed it. There's at least 30 other "Snowshoveler.exe" running around Sharo, keeping the paths clean. Their routes all seem to be coordinated so they don't see each other, ever. I had to work hand over hand at my post to get the work done fast enough for me to snoop, but I still think they suspect something. What should I do about this? Should I talk to my... brothers? Should I try to free them?
Day 66: When I showed up to work today, she was there with two Sharoan Official navis. They can only really be here for one thing. I'm not going out like that, so I disconnected from my PET and ran. I'm sorry, brothers...
Day 73: It's getting harder and harder to avoid the viruses.
Day 80: I figured they would never suspect me being in the hot Netfrica Net, and there's thankfully few viruses here that have an advantage against my water element. It's so hot though... I kind of miss the snow.
Day 88: Thi̶s͢ ̡is ̨i͘t,͡ ͘I͏ t̕hiǹk̨.̡ I g̡ot ̷in̵to à ͡s͞c̨u͏ffļe ͞with̵ ͟so̸m̶e͝ viruse̸s that́ ̸weņt̷ re͜a҉l͟ ͢b͢aḑ, a͘nd͏ wh̴il͢e ̶I wơn ҉I ͝c͡a̛n'͏t̸ m͝ov͘e̡ ͝m̕ỳ l͏eft leg̵ ̸an͘y̶ mǫre.̢ ̵I ̛won't̕ be ͘able҉ to ̴fig̨h͝t ̵li̛ke͢ ̧t́his҉. ͢Í j̨ust҉ h̸op͏e̢ my̸ b͘r͝other͜s̴ ͝do̡n'͏t g͏et p̕u̕n҉i̧s̕hed̛ ́f͜ǫr ̛wh͠at I̵ did̶. ̛Or.͢.̴. it ͟feels we͠ir͘d,̸ b̨ut ͢I̷ ͡şt̷ill ́don҉'҉t͡ want he̕r to̷ ͝g̷ét́ pu̷ni̷shed҉ ei͘t̶h͟er̵.̴ M̷ayb͟e͟ ͢i͘t̨ w͠a̛s ̢ą ͏s͠c̴ri̡pt̷, ̢or s͞o̧m̡et͜h͝ing͡ ҉s͡h́e ̸w͞as ̴tr̶a̢i͞nȩd͝ ̴t͝o̵ do, bu̶t͢ I͠ s҉ti҉ll҉ l̕oved͢ her҉.͢
Day 90: S̶̵̛o̕m̡ȩ͘͟ m̡͢o̷̡͠r̸̡͠e̶ v͟͟i̴͠r̨͏ú̕s̵è͢s͠ ̶͟͠f̕͞o̸ú͝nd̨̀ ̸҉ḿę͠.̵͘ ̀͜I̸͜͡ ́͡ǵu̸͝͞ess̕̕͜ th͏i̧s is͠͏͏ ̧͢͟į̀ţ̶.̴̕"
The next page is full of thank yous, and as Lyntael looks at them, a new one appears amongst the rest. At the bottom of the page is a short, simple phrase:
"If you ever see a snow-shoveler, please give him a hug. He needs it."
Once Lyntael seemed to be done reading the book, Bishop spoke up again. "To answer your earlier question, mmm... I think I've been here about 120 network revision cycles? That would be about... 10 of the human years, I think. Did you enjoy the book? I haven't read that one very often, but we often get some aqua navis from Sharo in here that get very weepy when they read it."
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Tentatively, Lyntael had been bracing herself for some kind of emotive transfer when she touched the book. She wasn't exactly sure why, precisely, but her mind said that if these were the last legacies of fallen navis, there had to be some kind of emotional charge attached to them. Instead, when she took the book in her hands, she felt... nothing. It was just a book; she read the words, biting her lip as her eyes traced the pages, but in the end shook her head slowly and, with care, put it back on the shelf.
"It's..." her hand dropped away from the shelf again, slowly as her fingers closed back around themselves. she glanced across to Eternalis, hand drifting back in to hover near her emblem. "It's horrid..." It was mostly a sad quiet murmur but she spoke up, trying to explain as best she could. "It's a story, about a navi. His operator... I guess... had him rewritten and renamed, into being one of a dozen other identical clones, but he wasn't meant to know, and when he found out, he ran away. But..." she shook her head and looked back at the line of books on the shelves. "But there's nothing there. No sense of the person. It's just... a story on pages. It's not even a record of who he was before he was altered. If this is all that remains, then, it doesn't feel like there's anything of the person left there, not really. Maybe that would be fine, but, something is writing in the pages. If that's... what's left... I can't imagine anyone would want that."
She drew a little further away from the shelves and looked back towards bishop. the woman's answer lined up with her guess, at least somewhat. ten years was a long, long time, from her own perspective. She knew it wasn't terribly much for humans, but here, from what she'd read, whole networks might change beyond recognition in that amount of time. She felt sure that whoever had first made this place had meant well, but...
"I'm sorry. Can we go? I... I don't want to be here any more." She dropped her head, and shuffled back behind Eternalis, hoping that their small procession wold move along quickly if she kept quiet. Once they were walking again, she stepped out to the side and tried to catch her companion's eye so she could whisper to him.
"I'm sure that whoever built all this really meant well, and really did do their very best... They did the most they could, I'm sure, but... I'm just scared even being here now. The thought of getting hurt, and then ending up like... like these..." She didn't put the rest to words, but Eternalis would be able to see wide eyes, holding pupils dilated to the point that the green of her irises were hard to make out.
"It's..." her hand dropped away from the shelf again, slowly as her fingers closed back around themselves. she glanced across to Eternalis, hand drifting back in to hover near her emblem. "It's horrid..." It was mostly a sad quiet murmur but she spoke up, trying to explain as best she could. "It's a story, about a navi. His operator... I guess... had him rewritten and renamed, into being one of a dozen other identical clones, but he wasn't meant to know, and when he found out, he ran away. But..." she shook her head and looked back at the line of books on the shelves. "But there's nothing there. No sense of the person. It's just... a story on pages. It's not even a record of who he was before he was altered. If this is all that remains, then, it doesn't feel like there's anything of the person left there, not really. Maybe that would be fine, but, something is writing in the pages. If that's... what's left... I can't imagine anyone would want that."
She drew a little further away from the shelves and looked back towards bishop. the woman's answer lined up with her guess, at least somewhat. ten years was a long, long time, from her own perspective. She knew it wasn't terribly much for humans, but here, from what she'd read, whole networks might change beyond recognition in that amount of time. She felt sure that whoever had first made this place had meant well, but...
"I'm sorry. Can we go? I... I don't want to be here any more." She dropped her head, and shuffled back behind Eternalis, hoping that their small procession wold move along quickly if she kept quiet. Once they were walking again, she stepped out to the side and tried to catch her companion's eye so she could whisper to him.
"I'm sure that whoever built all this really meant well, and really did do their very best... They did the most they could, I'm sure, but... I'm just scared even being here now. The thought of getting hurt, and then ending up like... like these..." She didn't put the rest to words, but Eternalis would be able to see wide eyes, holding pupils dilated to the point that the green of her irises were hard to make out.
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Seemingly nonplussed, Bishop grabbed the book off the shelf where Lyntael had placed it. "I swear, do you two just manage to find the worst in everything? LOOK." She flipped past the pages of thank-yous, page after page after page- if she rarely read it, why were there so many? There had to be dozens of pages of them. Finally, she came to the last page.
They were dressed how you might expect. Bundled warm, winter scarves, faces huddled in behind a beanie and the scarf. They each carried a broad, silver shovel, wedged at the front. Twelve of them were in the picture, all smiling, as far as Lyntael could tell, all gathered around a female navi wearing a sharoan uniform... who had a pair of angelic wings.
"You seem to hate this place so much, but you don't seem to understand what it's for, miss. Snowshoveler was not a navi who had been changed into something else, they were programmed that way to ease the transition. All of them had the same, single operator, and all of them had the same, single monitor who tried to make sure they stayed in working order. After he ran away, they only found out what happened because Management found Snowshoveler's data, were able to transmogrify it into this book, and contacted the Sharoan Administration."
Bishop shoved the book closer to Lyntael's face. "They come here to THANK him. Regularly! Those pages of thank yous almost all appeared at the same time, after they stuck this picture in his book! After they found out what happened, they had a complete reform of their snowshoveler system and stopped lying to them all! They're more like a union now!"
Bishop seemed to catch herself. Leaned far forward, practically screaming in Lyntael's face, tears streaming down her cheeks. She scowled as she turned around, the veneer of the stoic stewardess well and truly broken as she replaced the book. "These navis are dead. They know that. All they want, all they have left, is the desire to be remembered, to be known."
Bishop began to stomp off ahead. "It's the closest thing to an afterlife we'll ever get."
They were dressed how you might expect. Bundled warm, winter scarves, faces huddled in behind a beanie and the scarf. They each carried a broad, silver shovel, wedged at the front. Twelve of them were in the picture, all smiling, as far as Lyntael could tell, all gathered around a female navi wearing a sharoan uniform... who had a pair of angelic wings.
"You seem to hate this place so much, but you don't seem to understand what it's for, miss. Snowshoveler was not a navi who had been changed into something else, they were programmed that way to ease the transition. All of them had the same, single operator, and all of them had the same, single monitor who tried to make sure they stayed in working order. After he ran away, they only found out what happened because Management found Snowshoveler's data, were able to transmogrify it into this book, and contacted the Sharoan Administration."
Bishop shoved the book closer to Lyntael's face. "They come here to THANK him. Regularly! Those pages of thank yous almost all appeared at the same time, after they stuck this picture in his book! After they found out what happened, they had a complete reform of their snowshoveler system and stopped lying to them all! They're more like a union now!"
Bishop seemed to catch herself. Leaned far forward, practically screaming in Lyntael's face, tears streaming down her cheeks. She scowled as she turned around, the veneer of the stoic stewardess well and truly broken as she replaced the book. "These navis are dead. They know that. All they want, all they have left, is the desire to be remembered, to be known."
Bishop began to stomp off ahead. "It's the closest thing to an afterlife we'll ever get."
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After having refused the offer to read the books in the library, Eternalis had figured that they would be moving further into the area, in order to exit as quickly as possible and bring Lyntael home to safety. Unfortunately, his "charge" that he was responsible for wasn't quite in line with his thoughts, as she opted to stay for a spell to read one of the books out of curiosity. Or perhaps it was more of a sense of obligation, somehow, as the words Lyntael spoke gave off the sense that she had to, for whatever reason. Still, it was only a small detour, he figured, to satisfy whatever she would be reading.
Standing by, he was prepared for anything unseemly that might occur, given the unexpected occurrences that had befallen them thus far. A peek at the book's title read out "Snowshoveler", a name that, for all intents and purposes, sounded like it was meant to be a job description, rather than being someone's name. His body tensed up as Lyntael flipped through the pages, but contrary to his expectations, nothing seemed to happen, except that the look on Lyntael's face didn't seem to be of someone who was all too pleased with what she was reading.
Bishop's request for a review was met with a reply that seemed like she was about to break down, not out of sadness, but out of paralyzing fear, though he did catch something else that peaked his, as well as Harke's interests--that a "network revision cycle" was something roughly equivalent to a normal month. That meant that the "Navi ghost" phenomenon had started some 40-odd years ago, something that felt like quite the length of time for Eternalis, who had scarcely existed for barely one. Having existed all that time, being a caretaker of the dead kept alive by artificial means, sent a chill up Eternalis's spine.
Said caretaker didn't seem to appreciate having all the work that was put into her job being labeled poorly, though, with how she emotionally retaliated against Lyntael by showing all the different ways that their work impacted the living. No longer was she Bishop, the cold, unfeeling maintainer of the dead; she was now a simple fellow Navi, who only wanted to allow her fellows one last vestige of existence rather than simply vanishing into the void. Sparky, not understanding the exchange between them, barked repeatedly as Bishop was practically screaming into Lyntael's face, but when the caretaker had left, Eternalis roughly shushed the pup with some patting, eventually managing to calm his canine companion down.
He turned towards Lyntael. "I... guess she didn't really appreciate that," said Eternalis. His words were stuck in his throat, not knowing what to say next. By all means, he thought Lyntael had reason to be as apprehensive as she was, with how she had been nearly been "buried alive" in the graveyard they left just a minute ago. Still, he felt like he understood the purpose of the place a little more now. Eventually, he decided to simply pat Lyntael on the shoulder, before turning towards where Bishop had walked off. "... Come on. Let's get you home," said Eternalis.
Standing by, he was prepared for anything unseemly that might occur, given the unexpected occurrences that had befallen them thus far. A peek at the book's title read out "Snowshoveler", a name that, for all intents and purposes, sounded like it was meant to be a job description, rather than being someone's name. His body tensed up as Lyntael flipped through the pages, but contrary to his expectations, nothing seemed to happen, except that the look on Lyntael's face didn't seem to be of someone who was all too pleased with what she was reading.
Bishop's request for a review was met with a reply that seemed like she was about to break down, not out of sadness, but out of paralyzing fear, though he did catch something else that peaked his, as well as Harke's interests--that a "network revision cycle" was something roughly equivalent to a normal month. That meant that the "Navi ghost" phenomenon had started some 40-odd years ago, something that felt like quite the length of time for Eternalis, who had scarcely existed for barely one. Having existed all that time, being a caretaker of the dead kept alive by artificial means, sent a chill up Eternalis's spine.
Said caretaker didn't seem to appreciate having all the work that was put into her job being labeled poorly, though, with how she emotionally retaliated against Lyntael by showing all the different ways that their work impacted the living. No longer was she Bishop, the cold, unfeeling maintainer of the dead; she was now a simple fellow Navi, who only wanted to allow her fellows one last vestige of existence rather than simply vanishing into the void. Sparky, not understanding the exchange between them, barked repeatedly as Bishop was practically screaming into Lyntael's face, but when the caretaker had left, Eternalis roughly shushed the pup with some patting, eventually managing to calm his canine companion down.
He turned towards Lyntael. "I... guess she didn't really appreciate that," said Eternalis. His words were stuck in his throat, not knowing what to say next. By all means, he thought Lyntael had reason to be as apprehensive as she was, with how she had been nearly been "buried alive" in the graveyard they left just a minute ago. Still, he felt like he understood the purpose of the place a little more now. Eventually, he decided to simply pat Lyntael on the shoulder, before turning towards where Bishop had walked off. "... Come on. Let's get you home," said Eternalis.
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The look of sad wistfulness on Lyntael's features shattered quite quickly under the force of Bishop's reaction, and the girl shrank back, cringing away from the woman's increasing volume. Her hand rose to hug tightly in front of her, as though she was expecting Bishop to strike her, beyond simply trying to shove the book in her face. Even so, she found herself looking back at the other woman, a heat prickling at the edges of her own eyes but with a firm glare all the same. She could understand the value of a record, and the service and comfort the information could give to those who were left. she did understand that. But even as she was railing at her, Bishop seemed to miss that point that had upset Lyntael in the first place. She weathered the other woman's shouting in silence, still flinching at particularly forceful spikes, but only opened her mouth to answer once Bishop was already moving away.
“You're lying... and...” It came out barely above a shaken whisper, too quiet for Bishop herself to hear, probably. Instead Lyntael collected herself a little, looking up to Eternalis instead. Despite herself, she lifted her hands and stepped back from his efforts at physical comfort, but didn't spare the time for her usual apology. Instead she was looking up at her companion hoping to find someone she could talk to that would listen.
“She's lying... The book said he'd just been renamed. It had an original name in it and everything, but the book wouldn't let me read what it was. It had nothing at all about who he was before, or the life he'd had before, either. If this is that navi's last legacy... who... who would ever want it to be a record of their worst frustrations and a death lost and alone?”
She looked down at her feet, a dozen thoughts fighting in her mind, but her tone was not so much frightened on her own behalf, as sad and upset for remnants that were kept here. After a moment of quietly accepting Eternalis' efforts at comfort, she looked up again to where Bishop was still striding away from them in agitation. Her sad expression grew into a firmer frown and she stood straighter, drawing a long breath. Her shoulders lifted as she set them with more purpose.
“It's not right. Not if it's not voluntary.” This time when she looked up towards Eternalis it was to give him a desperately apologetic look, almost as though to say sorry in advance, before she began to move more quickly after Bishop.
“How do you know?” She called out as she moved to catch up. “How do you know that it's this, or nothing? What gives you the right to decide that for anyone else? You don't know what comes after! None of us do. None of us can! What gives you the right to decide that for someone? To deny them the chance to find out; to deny them the choice, by locking whatever is left of them away in these books for all eternity, to relive the moments leading up to their own death as their only way to communicate? We don't know what happens when we die, any more than humans do, now. We're more than just lines of code and that matters. It matters!” The quickened steps weren't nearly enough to account for her shortened breath and panting as she got more worked up, trying to articulate her thoughts.
“I don't know what's going to happen to me when I die, and that scares me. It really does... but even if it's nothing at all, even if there is nothing at all... I'd rather risk oblivion that end up reliving my last moments endlessly in one of these books!” She hadn't really thought out the line before saying it, but as the words left her lips, a part of her realised that it was quite true, at least in her case. A simple record would do just the same for the succour it provided the living... but if some fragment of the navi's soul was held there, forever, that was just barbaric.
A part of it was too much for her to process all at once; she'd never thought deeply about the nature of her life or her soul before, at least not directly. There was a certainty in every part of her being that she was alive, and that she was more than the data that made up her being; more than could be printed out on a screen... but beyond that, it had always been a constant battle with Rogan to be acknowledged as a person at all, and she'd never really had the luxury of probing the concept more deeply. Now her mind was racing through that mine field of what she felt and thought all at once and she could feel her hands shaking and her heart beating quickly from the uncertain distress of it all.
“You don't ask them if they want it... and you don't even listen to them if they tell you they don't... How... how can you even begin to justify that...?” This last was quieter, more tremulous as she shook her head, blinking back frustrated tears as she tried to keep her voice steady.
“You're lying... and...” It came out barely above a shaken whisper, too quiet for Bishop herself to hear, probably. Instead Lyntael collected herself a little, looking up to Eternalis instead. Despite herself, she lifted her hands and stepped back from his efforts at physical comfort, but didn't spare the time for her usual apology. Instead she was looking up at her companion hoping to find someone she could talk to that would listen.
“She's lying... The book said he'd just been renamed. It had an original name in it and everything, but the book wouldn't let me read what it was. It had nothing at all about who he was before, or the life he'd had before, either. If this is that navi's last legacy... who... who would ever want it to be a record of their worst frustrations and a death lost and alone?”
She looked down at her feet, a dozen thoughts fighting in her mind, but her tone was not so much frightened on her own behalf, as sad and upset for remnants that were kept here. After a moment of quietly accepting Eternalis' efforts at comfort, she looked up again to where Bishop was still striding away from them in agitation. Her sad expression grew into a firmer frown and she stood straighter, drawing a long breath. Her shoulders lifted as she set them with more purpose.
“It's not right. Not if it's not voluntary.” This time when she looked up towards Eternalis it was to give him a desperately apologetic look, almost as though to say sorry in advance, before she began to move more quickly after Bishop.
“How do you know?” She called out as she moved to catch up. “How do you know that it's this, or nothing? What gives you the right to decide that for anyone else? You don't know what comes after! None of us do. None of us can! What gives you the right to decide that for someone? To deny them the chance to find out; to deny them the choice, by locking whatever is left of them away in these books for all eternity, to relive the moments leading up to their own death as their only way to communicate? We don't know what happens when we die, any more than humans do, now. We're more than just lines of code and that matters. It matters!” The quickened steps weren't nearly enough to account for her shortened breath and panting as she got more worked up, trying to articulate her thoughts.
“I don't know what's going to happen to me when I die, and that scares me. It really does... but even if it's nothing at all, even if there is nothing at all... I'd rather risk oblivion that end up reliving my last moments endlessly in one of these books!” She hadn't really thought out the line before saying it, but as the words left her lips, a part of her realised that it was quite true, at least in her case. A simple record would do just the same for the succour it provided the living... but if some fragment of the navi's soul was held there, forever, that was just barbaric.
A part of it was too much for her to process all at once; she'd never thought deeply about the nature of her life or her soul before, at least not directly. There was a certainty in every part of her being that she was alive, and that she was more than the data that made up her being; more than could be printed out on a screen... but beyond that, it had always been a constant battle with Rogan to be acknowledged as a person at all, and she'd never really had the luxury of probing the concept more deeply. Now her mind was racing through that mine field of what she felt and thought all at once and she could feel her hands shaking and her heart beating quickly from the uncertain distress of it all.
“You don't ask them if they want it... and you don't even listen to them if they tell you they don't... How... how can you even begin to justify that...?” This last was quieter, more tremulous as she shook her head, blinking back frustrated tears as she tried to keep her voice steady.
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Bishop did not stop at Lyntael's words, and her hurried, angered pace eventually forced the duo to simply follow or be left behind, regardless of how they felt. As Bishop led them through the vast reserves of the tepid and quiet library, the true size, the true scale of this place became more and more evident. It felt like they walked for weeks. How many navis had died and ended up at this virtual trash heap? How many more still wandered it, patrolling it as custodians? Something of this size couldn't be managed by Bishop alone...
Finally the trio came to a canister-like room. Bishop led the two of them in, and then the lift rose up, up, and out of the library. A railing popped up, surrounding the lift and keeping the navis riding it from falling off as it ascended through the dim. The rainfall intensified as the lift approached a foggy, hazy sort of border to the gray-blue that permeated the Memory Fault, and with a burst of light the lift rose through it.
A field of endless clouds spread out before the two navis on the lift. Simulated sunset cascaded over the clouds, painting them in pearly shades of pink and purple and orange, painting the entire sky gold as it radiated out from an impossibly distant yet close horizon. It seemed an impossible shift, a complete reversal of tone and construction from the gloom the navis had been in before. The lift came to a stop, rising up through a hole, and the guard rails lowered as they arrived.
The two navis had come to what looked like a... bridge, or a command station of sorts. Old-generation administration navis manned an array of consoles some 200 wide, on two separate levels, arranged in a rough circle with a single 'wedge' removed for entry. Bishop beckoned for the two navis behind her to follow, and they all entered the circle of consoles and working administrators. At the very center of the two-floored workspace was a navi styled to look like an old man; He wore an old, tattered robe, sitting in a floating chair that was currently resting above the bottom floor but beneath the top floor. He held in his hands an hourglass, watching the sands inside it fall from the top half toward the bottom. It appeared to be almost empty.
"May I present the management." Bishop said, by way of introduction. Her voice was quiet and composed again... and a little afraid, perhaps?
Finally the trio came to a canister-like room. Bishop led the two of them in, and then the lift rose up, up, and out of the library. A railing popped up, surrounding the lift and keeping the navis riding it from falling off as it ascended through the dim. The rainfall intensified as the lift approached a foggy, hazy sort of border to the gray-blue that permeated the Memory Fault, and with a burst of light the lift rose through it.
A field of endless clouds spread out before the two navis on the lift. Simulated sunset cascaded over the clouds, painting them in pearly shades of pink and purple and orange, painting the entire sky gold as it radiated out from an impossibly distant yet close horizon. It seemed an impossible shift, a complete reversal of tone and construction from the gloom the navis had been in before. The lift came to a stop, rising up through a hole, and the guard rails lowered as they arrived.
The two navis had come to what looked like a... bridge, or a command station of sorts. Old-generation administration navis manned an array of consoles some 200 wide, on two separate levels, arranged in a rough circle with a single 'wedge' removed for entry. Bishop beckoned for the two navis behind her to follow, and they all entered the circle of consoles and working administrators. At the very center of the two-floored workspace was a navi styled to look like an old man; He wore an old, tattered robe, sitting in a floating chair that was currently resting above the bottom floor but beneath the top floor. He held in his hands an hourglass, watching the sands inside it fall from the top half toward the bottom. It appeared to be almost empty.
"May I present the management." Bishop said, by way of introduction. Her voice was quiet and composed again... and a little afraid, perhaps?
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Lyntael's reaction dug into Eternalis's mind, with her words revealing little details of what she had gleaned from the book she had just read. Thoughts of his mortality had crossed his mind in the past, primarily during his run-in with the Momograve infection. Having his existence nearly overwritten by the infection's destructive glitches, he knew what it was like to have a close call with deletion. However, as much as he empathized with how Lyntael felt, there was nothing to be done about the dead; nothing she said could change anything in the situation that the rows and rows of books were currently in.
On the other hand, they were still alive. They could still do what they could. He picked up his pace to catch up with Bishop, who seemed to be much more in a hurry than before, though he also tried to keep Lyntael in his sights, so as to not lose her within the massive library. Fortunately, Bishop had stopped a little further ahead, in what seemed to be a lift. Glancing over his shoulder to confirm that the girl he was escorting was still behind him, he entered the lift. In his arms, Sparky curiously peeked around the area, though the pup seemed to visibly avoid looking in Bishop's direction. His master unconsciously did the same, though it was less due to curiosity and more concern towards Lyntael.
As the lift rose, both master and pet anxiously fidgeted in place, with Eternalis giving Sparky some reassuring petting every now and then; the tense atmosphere wasn't exactly conducive to small talk. While the Navi was too tense to appreciate the shift in tone in their surrounding environment, Harke was in a better position to do so, and panned the visual communication screen that afforded him a peek into the Net world, both to try and lift his own spirits, and to keep himself alert for anything that might cross their path during the lift ride.
Unfortunately for Harke, there was little to see during the ride itself, but the destination was not uninteresting in the slightest. The "management" area came into view, and Eternalis turned towards his companions in turn, and nodded to Lyntael seriously, before taking the first step forward into the station. His eyes scanned the area as subtly as he could, noting the scores of Navis lined up in the area. For how many people were stationed up in the station, having only one of their personnel on the ground seemed to him to be a slightly lopsided distribution of responsibilities. Nevertheless, he kept his thoughts to himself as he approached the one that Bishop had referred to as the "management". For a moment, he debated whether to introduce themselves, but figured that the "management" would have some surveillance installed, and so he instead gave only a small polite nod.
"Excuse me, we... uh, seem to have stumbled in here by mistake? We're here to get that resolved," said Eternalis.
On the other hand, they were still alive. They could still do what they could. He picked up his pace to catch up with Bishop, who seemed to be much more in a hurry than before, though he also tried to keep Lyntael in his sights, so as to not lose her within the massive library. Fortunately, Bishop had stopped a little further ahead, in what seemed to be a lift. Glancing over his shoulder to confirm that the girl he was escorting was still behind him, he entered the lift. In his arms, Sparky curiously peeked around the area, though the pup seemed to visibly avoid looking in Bishop's direction. His master unconsciously did the same, though it was less due to curiosity and more concern towards Lyntael.
As the lift rose, both master and pet anxiously fidgeted in place, with Eternalis giving Sparky some reassuring petting every now and then; the tense atmosphere wasn't exactly conducive to small talk. While the Navi was too tense to appreciate the shift in tone in their surrounding environment, Harke was in a better position to do so, and panned the visual communication screen that afforded him a peek into the Net world, both to try and lift his own spirits, and to keep himself alert for anything that might cross their path during the lift ride.
Unfortunately for Harke, there was little to see during the ride itself, but the destination was not uninteresting in the slightest. The "management" area came into view, and Eternalis turned towards his companions in turn, and nodded to Lyntael seriously, before taking the first step forward into the station. His eyes scanned the area as subtly as he could, noting the scores of Navis lined up in the area. For how many people were stationed up in the station, having only one of their personnel on the ground seemed to him to be a slightly lopsided distribution of responsibilities. Nevertheless, he kept his thoughts to himself as he approached the one that Bishop had referred to as the "management". For a moment, he debated whether to introduce themselves, but figured that the "management" would have some surveillance installed, and so he instead gave only a small polite nod.
"Excuse me, we... uh, seem to have stumbled in here by mistake? We're here to get that resolved," said Eternalis.
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As much as she tried to press, Bishop hadn't slowed her pace, even after the younger woman caught up. An all too familiar sensation crept up and Lyntael let her steps slow again, drifting to a standstill as her shoulders slumped just a little. Being ignored outright was something that she was used to already and she watched the caretaker striding forward while she waited the few moments for Eternalis to catch up as well. She swallowed and looked up at him with a small, mostly wistful smile. Oddly, he might notice, where the girl had been determinedly emotional as she chased after Bishop, the look on her face had calmed almost instantly to a sombre neutral. She looked down at the path before them again as they continued walking to keep up with their guide.
“Sorry. I... I thought she might answer. I've never really had the chance to think about all of this before, but, this doesn't feel right. I thought maybe...” She shook her head. There was no point pursuing it now, at least not with Bishop. They just had to keep up and see where she was leading them. Lyntael brushed at her eyes and cheeks, then nodded and forced her features to something resembling brightness again.
“Maybe we'll get a chance to talk to someone else properly soon... and we can tell them all about how far navigators have come since this place was set up? They'll have to see, won't they?” Despite the attempt at brightening her demeanour, the last sounded more like she was pleading for reassurance than anything more practical, but she did her best to recover her tone of voice before going on. “I do really wish it had been a little bit less confronting, but, I still think it's important to think about these sorts of things. I don't really know how I feel or what I think, and that's... well it's not good, at least...” Moving along the internal rows of the extended library of memorials never stopped feeling disconcerting, and as long as they chased after bishop's quick pace, Lyntael spent the rest of the walk staying close by Eternalis; never quite within arms' reach, but, Eternalis would be able to tell, as close as she felt comfortable getting. she looked around as the rows of shelves continued, but it didn't bring any comfort.
“Hey.... Eternalis, what do you think about... ah, you know... lives and souls. I know that I'm... I'm real, alive... I think, and feel, and I am. There's definitely an 'I' here, you know? More than, well, more than what reads out on a diagnostic screen... Even if Rogan tries so hard to convince himself that none of that is true, I know that much at least, so certainly I could never doubt it... But, I guess, beyond that feeling, I don't really... I don't 'know' much at all about any of that. Not for certain... I've read some things from old philosophers, but they only ever talk about humans, of course. What do you think about... er... what we are, I guess?” Now that she'd been forced to dance quickly through that minefield of a topic all at once, it was tugging at her every thought, though as close a topic as it was it was still a distraction from the other more worrying thoughts. She splashed her toes in the water that flowed beneath their feet on the walkway, still thinking as she waited to listen to her friend's thoughts.
Eventually, though, they reached a door that turned out to be a lift shaft, leading up and away from the morbid collection of final testaments. Despite herself, Lyntael leaned on the railing with both hands, looking out across the view as it unfolded, allowing herself to be distracted by the scenery. Her breath caught as they broke through the cloud layer, and she looked about at the renewed atmosphere with brighter eyes and a slightly open mouth, for the first few moments at least. A small, more innocent and natural, grin managed to break its way onto her lips as she took in the beautifully appointed sunset above the clouds, and she inhaled deeply, testing how the air felt up here.
It didn't last too long before the lift reached its destination, however, and as it rose into the cradle stop, a slightly different expression of awe replaced the first, accompanied by a very quietly whispered 'oh.. wow...'. Lyntael cast her gaze about the tightly lined banks of work terminals, before following quickly behind Eternalis and Bishop as they were brought forward. It all seemed a bit intimidating, in one way, that they had to go through all of this just to get let out, though she supposed it had to be because of how old the technology was in reality. Nevertheless, the sense of seriousness pressed in and Lyntael spent the first few moments of their introduction fighting the instinct to be quiet and respectful. She very much wanted to ask more about their practices, and about maybe updating them to be more respectful to navi's wishes, but for the time being she hesitated, waiting to see how this apparently superior individual reacted to their presence in the first place.
“Sorry. I... I thought she might answer. I've never really had the chance to think about all of this before, but, this doesn't feel right. I thought maybe...” She shook her head. There was no point pursuing it now, at least not with Bishop. They just had to keep up and see where she was leading them. Lyntael brushed at her eyes and cheeks, then nodded and forced her features to something resembling brightness again.
“Maybe we'll get a chance to talk to someone else properly soon... and we can tell them all about how far navigators have come since this place was set up? They'll have to see, won't they?” Despite the attempt at brightening her demeanour, the last sounded more like she was pleading for reassurance than anything more practical, but she did her best to recover her tone of voice before going on. “I do really wish it had been a little bit less confronting, but, I still think it's important to think about these sorts of things. I don't really know how I feel or what I think, and that's... well it's not good, at least...” Moving along the internal rows of the extended library of memorials never stopped feeling disconcerting, and as long as they chased after bishop's quick pace, Lyntael spent the rest of the walk staying close by Eternalis; never quite within arms' reach, but, Eternalis would be able to tell, as close as she felt comfortable getting. she looked around as the rows of shelves continued, but it didn't bring any comfort.
“Hey.... Eternalis, what do you think about... ah, you know... lives and souls. I know that I'm... I'm real, alive... I think, and feel, and I am. There's definitely an 'I' here, you know? More than, well, more than what reads out on a diagnostic screen... Even if Rogan tries so hard to convince himself that none of that is true, I know that much at least, so certainly I could never doubt it... But, I guess, beyond that feeling, I don't really... I don't 'know' much at all about any of that. Not for certain... I've read some things from old philosophers, but they only ever talk about humans, of course. What do you think about... er... what we are, I guess?” Now that she'd been forced to dance quickly through that minefield of a topic all at once, it was tugging at her every thought, though as close a topic as it was it was still a distraction from the other more worrying thoughts. She splashed her toes in the water that flowed beneath their feet on the walkway, still thinking as she waited to listen to her friend's thoughts.
Eventually, though, they reached a door that turned out to be a lift shaft, leading up and away from the morbid collection of final testaments. Despite herself, Lyntael leaned on the railing with both hands, looking out across the view as it unfolded, allowing herself to be distracted by the scenery. Her breath caught as they broke through the cloud layer, and she looked about at the renewed atmosphere with brighter eyes and a slightly open mouth, for the first few moments at least. A small, more innocent and natural, grin managed to break its way onto her lips as she took in the beautifully appointed sunset above the clouds, and she inhaled deeply, testing how the air felt up here.
It didn't last too long before the lift reached its destination, however, and as it rose into the cradle stop, a slightly different expression of awe replaced the first, accompanied by a very quietly whispered 'oh.. wow...'. Lyntael cast her gaze about the tightly lined banks of work terminals, before following quickly behind Eternalis and Bishop as they were brought forward. It all seemed a bit intimidating, in one way, that they had to go through all of this just to get let out, though she supposed it had to be because of how old the technology was in reality. Nevertheless, the sense of seriousness pressed in and Lyntael spent the first few moments of their introduction fighting the instinct to be quiet and respectful. She very much wanted to ask more about their practices, and about maybe updating them to be more respectful to navi's wishes, but for the time being she hesitated, waiting to see how this apparently superior individual reacted to their presence in the first place.
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"Ahh... at last." The old man said. The sands in his hourglass ran to the bottom- and then his form grew still, beginning to corrupt and flake at the edges. Did he just... die of old age? Was that even possible?
A smaller hand burst through his chest, then a second; instead of an old man with robes, a child wearing a T-shirt and shorts climbed out of the old man's body as it disappeared. The child grabbed the hourglass and flipped it, setting it on the chair's arm, and then settled down into a seated position where the old man had been. The sands began to pour through the hourglass once again. "Hey folks, I'm Keeper. Keeper.adm." The kid flashed them a broad, beaming smile. "I hope you two have had fun in the Memory Fault! It's nice, reading all those old stories, seeing navis from the past... isn't it cool!?"
Bishop cleared her throat. "Sir, these two-" In a flash Keeper had moved from the throne-chair to Bishop's shoulder, sitting on it and pushing his finger to her mouth. "Shhh sh sh sh sh sh. I wanna hear what they say, Bishop! Did we forget to restore your fun routines or something when we ringed you?"
"I have never had 'fun routines'." Bishop frowned.
"Even worse, even worse!" Keeper acted mock-surprised, placing an open palm in front of his mouth. "We'll have to perform immediate fun surgery!" He disappeared and reappeared again, this time stabbing Bishop's stomach repeatedly with a... balloon sword. It squeaked and squealed harmlessly, bending as it bounced off of Bishop's torso repeatedly. Both navis could see Bishop mouthing a countdown, looking toward the hourglass. 'five... four... three... two... one...'
On cue the hourglass emptied again, and little Keeper basically exploded. In the shower of netcode and data, a stern-looking man in a business suit appeared, an emblem of a lock and key clearly visible in the center of his chest. Unlike the old man and the child, he had the typical ear-protectors of a navi, and beneath the suit you could see a bodysuit; his electric-blue hair was slicked back, and with a cough the man walked back toward the throne, flipped the hourglass, and sat on it. "I am Keeper. The real Keeper, the true Keeper. Please, do not let my... ailment... distract you." He crossed his legs. The sands in the hourglass seemed to run longer than in the prior two forms, implying this one was his most stable. "What iis it you need? Why have you come?"
A smaller hand burst through his chest, then a second; instead of an old man with robes, a child wearing a T-shirt and shorts climbed out of the old man's body as it disappeared. The child grabbed the hourglass and flipped it, setting it on the chair's arm, and then settled down into a seated position where the old man had been. The sands began to pour through the hourglass once again. "Hey folks, I'm Keeper. Keeper.adm." The kid flashed them a broad, beaming smile. "I hope you two have had fun in the Memory Fault! It's nice, reading all those old stories, seeing navis from the past... isn't it cool!?"
Bishop cleared her throat. "Sir, these two-" In a flash Keeper had moved from the throne-chair to Bishop's shoulder, sitting on it and pushing his finger to her mouth. "Shhh sh sh sh sh sh. I wanna hear what they say, Bishop! Did we forget to restore your fun routines or something when we ringed you?"
"I have never had 'fun routines'." Bishop frowned.
"Even worse, even worse!" Keeper acted mock-surprised, placing an open palm in front of his mouth. "We'll have to perform immediate fun surgery!" He disappeared and reappeared again, this time stabbing Bishop's stomach repeatedly with a... balloon sword. It squeaked and squealed harmlessly, bending as it bounced off of Bishop's torso repeatedly. Both navis could see Bishop mouthing a countdown, looking toward the hourglass. 'five... four... three... two... one...'
On cue the hourglass emptied again, and little Keeper basically exploded. In the shower of netcode and data, a stern-looking man in a business suit appeared, an emblem of a lock and key clearly visible in the center of his chest. Unlike the old man and the child, he had the typical ear-protectors of a navi, and beneath the suit you could see a bodysuit; his electric-blue hair was slicked back, and with a cough the man walked back toward the throne, flipped the hourglass, and sat on it. "I am Keeper. The real Keeper, the true Keeper. Please, do not let my... ailment... distract you." He crossed his legs. The sands in the hourglass seemed to run longer than in the prior two forms, implying this one was his most stable. "What iis it you need? Why have you come?"
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Throughout their walk towards the administrative area, Eternalis had listened to Lyntael's inquiries, and nodded intermittently to her musings. "We might be able to mention something about it. I understand you might feel bad about how this place is set up, but..." Eternalis had said, before trailing off to turn back towards where they were walking. Shortly after, however, Lyntael's subsequent question had gotten his attention once more, and he had crossed his arms in thought.
"Before a little while ago, I don't think I've ever given much thought to it. But... I feel like, for me at least, I feel defined by my relationships, either with humans, or with other Navis and programs," he had said, looking down at Sparky in his arms, and patting him gently. "Something that meshes people together. I haven't really ever been... alone enough, to think about how I could stand on my own," the slimy Navi had said, looking up and around at the endless rows of books around them. A slightly nervous chuckle escaped his maw. "It's ironic, really. I remember being made for the purpose of being a self-sufficient self-repairing Navi, but as much as I can sustain myself on the outside, I can't help but feel like I'd be empty without others."
--
The brief memory of what had transpired during their walk earlier was put aside, as Eternalis focused on the old man that sat before them--past tense emphasized, as he apparently crumbled into dust right before their eyes. As he stood dumbstruck, briefly contemplating about whether to make a remark about how late they arrived, the hand that burst out of the former old man's chest quickly silenced him.
Blinking at the child that climbed out, Eternalis wasn't quite sure of what expression to make then, though his maw naturally contorted into an awkward smile. His mind ran through the possible statements that he could make to the juvenile-looking administrator, among them being some remarks about how the place could make a decent haunted house; he could practically hear a quirky circus tune playing in his head throughout. Were "fun routines" actually a thing?
Thankfully, the problem fixed itself in no time, and they were faced with someone that looked a little more suited for the title of "Keeper". "Sorry, right. We've found ourselves directed here because of some heavy rain outside, and as I understand it, my friend here was mistaken for a ghost Navi? I think both of us can say that the two of us are very much still sound of mind and body." A little bark came forth from the pup in his arms as well, and he chuckled. "Sparky here probably could say the same, too, if you asked him."
"Before a little while ago, I don't think I've ever given much thought to it. But... I feel like, for me at least, I feel defined by my relationships, either with humans, or with other Navis and programs," he had said, looking down at Sparky in his arms, and patting him gently. "Something that meshes people together. I haven't really ever been... alone enough, to think about how I could stand on my own," the slimy Navi had said, looking up and around at the endless rows of books around them. A slightly nervous chuckle escaped his maw. "It's ironic, really. I remember being made for the purpose of being a self-sufficient self-repairing Navi, but as much as I can sustain myself on the outside, I can't help but feel like I'd be empty without others."
--
The brief memory of what had transpired during their walk earlier was put aside, as Eternalis focused on the old man that sat before them--past tense emphasized, as he apparently crumbled into dust right before their eyes. As he stood dumbstruck, briefly contemplating about whether to make a remark about how late they arrived, the hand that burst out of the former old man's chest quickly silenced him.
Blinking at the child that climbed out, Eternalis wasn't quite sure of what expression to make then, though his maw naturally contorted into an awkward smile. His mind ran through the possible statements that he could make to the juvenile-looking administrator, among them being some remarks about how the place could make a decent haunted house; he could practically hear a quirky circus tune playing in his head throughout. Were "fun routines" actually a thing?
Thankfully, the problem fixed itself in no time, and they were faced with someone that looked a little more suited for the title of "Keeper". "Sorry, right. We've found ourselves directed here because of some heavy rain outside, and as I understand it, my friend here was mistaken for a ghost Navi? I think both of us can say that the two of us are very much still sound of mind and body." A little bark came forth from the pup in his arms as well, and he chuckled. "Sparky here probably could say the same, too, if you asked him."
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Watching on from where she was mostly standing behind Eternalis, Lyntael's first reaction was a small gasp, one hand jumping to her mouth as the vault-keeper's curious instability demonstrated itself before them. About to answer the first quick barrage of questions from the newly emerged youngest form, she found herself instead watching in vaguely shocked quiet while the next few seconds transpired. The term the small keeper used when he spoke to Bishop felt vaguely concerning, but there wasn't much time to ponder it any further as the third iteration made itself known. The younger girl found herself thinking that she'd much rather have dealt with the younger Keeper, all told, but as long as this more stable form was still reasonable it shouldn't be a problem.
She pondered how best to start, but in the moment of space, Eternalis found his words more quickly and she listened instead, glancing first to her companion while he spoke, then to the Keeper so she could nod her agreement.
“It's true, we were only trying to get out of the rain for a while, and now we're trapped, or, ah, that's what miss Bishop, says.” She paused, biting her lip briefly, but then pushed on, stepping out a little more from Eternalis so she could be seen better. “I... I know I'm not connected right now, and I have some control issues some times, but I'm perfectly fine and healthy. We just want to go, but, I'm really concerned that you might have a lot of other navis like me who got locked away here, without ever having a chance to say they didn't want it...” She closed her mouth again, cutting the worry short before it spilled on and on into anything more. “I... I mean...” She drew back a touch, looking down briefly. “She didn't even listen before she grabbed me and tried to stuff me into one of those tombs. I was terrified. I'm going to have nightmares about it...” She felt a bit bad about effectively telling tales on Bishop, but the woman had reused utterly to listen to any kind of reason, so it was only a small pang of guilt. Despite that, memory of the brief few moments of terror it had caused still made the girl shudder, and Lyntael hugged at herself, rubbing the tops of her arms for a few seconds.
“I... Just want to go home. Can you let us out please?” The last was delivered more meekly, and she looked up, turning her eyes between the keeper, and Eternalis for support.
She pondered how best to start, but in the moment of space, Eternalis found his words more quickly and she listened instead, glancing first to her companion while he spoke, then to the Keeper so she could nod her agreement.
“It's true, we were only trying to get out of the rain for a while, and now we're trapped, or, ah, that's what miss Bishop, says.” She paused, biting her lip briefly, but then pushed on, stepping out a little more from Eternalis so she could be seen better. “I... I know I'm not connected right now, and I have some control issues some times, but I'm perfectly fine and healthy. We just want to go, but, I'm really concerned that you might have a lot of other navis like me who got locked away here, without ever having a chance to say they didn't want it...” She closed her mouth again, cutting the worry short before it spilled on and on into anything more. “I... I mean...” She drew back a touch, looking down briefly. “She didn't even listen before she grabbed me and tried to stuff me into one of those tombs. I was terrified. I'm going to have nightmares about it...” She felt a bit bad about effectively telling tales on Bishop, but the woman had reused utterly to listen to any kind of reason, so it was only a small pang of guilt. Despite that, memory of the brief few moments of terror it had caused still made the girl shudder, and Lyntael hugged at herself, rubbing the tops of her arms for a few seconds.
“I... Just want to go home. Can you let us out please?” The last was delivered more meekly, and she looked up, turning her eyes between the keeper, and Eternalis for support.
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"So what you're saying is, instead of trusting her own judgment and your arguments, Bishop followed protocol and had the Memory Fault's systems scan you." Keeper's fingers were steepled in front of him as he listened. "Bishop? Well done, but if you did traumatize this navi, please try to be a little more courteous about things."
Bishop scoffed. "Sir, as you know the gravemarkers are perfectly safe! I even scanned myself afterwards, and still she insists that we 'get it wrong' or that we're 'locking up navis who shouldn't be', frankly it's ridiculous-"
Keeper silenced her by holding up his hand. "Miss Lyntael, Mister Eternalis, I am terribly sorry if the Memory Fault has accidentally blocked your exit, but I assure you that it is only the Memory Fault's outer systems that are... overzealous. We have had several escape attempts in the Memory Fault's earliest years of operation, sometimes by caretakers who thought that, after being hooked up as Bishop is, they could simply return to the network at large, and that is sadly not the case."
A pad floated down from... somewhere above... and landed squarely before Keeper. "Bishop, if you would step into the containment pad for a moment, I would like to demonstrate for our guests."
Bishop's frown deepened further. "Do I have to? It is wholly unpleasant."
"No, but I would greatly appreciate it." Keeper nodded toward the pad.
Bishop grumbled, sighed, and snorted. "Fiiiine. But I better get some extended break hours for this." She stepped onto the pad-- and a slight hum that had been present since they met the navi faded out. It was quiet, dim enough they would have never heard it through the pitter-patter of the rain, and even now it was only noticeable in absentia. Bishop turned to face them, standing on the pad... but her eyes bore a hollow look, and her stance was... off-kilter, almost half-held. She swung her weapon, at least as much as she could in the confined space, and a barrier took the blow. A second swing, a third, a fourth, all at a terrifying pace. "Revenge..." She moaned. "Can never..." She wailed. "Must... must...!" She roared as she struck the barrier again, growing increasingly frantic. The hum kicked in, and Bishop stopped dead in her tracks.
Her head raised, and again she bore the signs of intelligence, the signs of sanity. she quickly fixed her hair, and then she stepped out of the pad, no longer restrained. "Is that... is that satisfactory, sir?" She grunted.
"Quite." Keeper said. "The Memory fault is able to stabilize and restore function to navi ghosts that are, in some cases like Bishop's, even very far gone. The problem is that this requires a massive amount of processing power to handle all the errors and empty calls in the glitched code, as the Memory Fault is effectively forced to emulate an entire network navi framework in order to 'overlay' the remaining code onto it. Such a massive amount of processing power is not possessed by standard PET models, even the ones produced today, and would require a specialized PET that would be four to ten times more expensive than a normal one."
Keeper crossed his legs. "Sometimes our caretakers forget this fact, or willfully deny it. We do everything in our power to rejoin our keeper navis with their original operators, but simply put in most cases they have either already been reloaded from backup, have been replaced, or are simply an ugly reminder of a very bad day for that operator. There area good number of cases where we have successfully merged the glitched forks of navi ghosts with their backup data to repair them, but this is just not feasible in the majority of cases." He turned to look at the hourglass. "So the Memory Fault provides a service that is necessary not just to network navigators like yourself, but to net society as a whole: We lock up navi ghosts that wish to be preserved or are deemed to be legally important, and destroy those which do not and are not."
Keeper gestured behind the two of them, and the book came floating over, hovering above his hand. "While I apologize for the inconvenience, your disconnected state tripped the outer systems, but the inner systems are not so easily fooled. If you would like to leave, we have no reason to hold you. If you would like to ask questions, now would be a good time. If you have no questions, I can jack you out..." He looked toward Eternalis, "...but that would mean leaving Miss Lyntael behind. So instead I would offer to transport the two of you to your network of choice. The Memory Fault exists between the networks, so I can directly connect you to any network you would like, in whatever vicinity you would like. But first, I will field any questions you have."
Bishop scoffed. "Sir, as you know the gravemarkers are perfectly safe! I even scanned myself afterwards, and still she insists that we 'get it wrong' or that we're 'locking up navis who shouldn't be', frankly it's ridiculous-"
Keeper silenced her by holding up his hand. "Miss Lyntael, Mister Eternalis, I am terribly sorry if the Memory Fault has accidentally blocked your exit, but I assure you that it is only the Memory Fault's outer systems that are... overzealous. We have had several escape attempts in the Memory Fault's earliest years of operation, sometimes by caretakers who thought that, after being hooked up as Bishop is, they could simply return to the network at large, and that is sadly not the case."
A pad floated down from... somewhere above... and landed squarely before Keeper. "Bishop, if you would step into the containment pad for a moment, I would like to demonstrate for our guests."
Bishop's frown deepened further. "Do I have to? It is wholly unpleasant."
"No, but I would greatly appreciate it." Keeper nodded toward the pad.
Bishop grumbled, sighed, and snorted. "Fiiiine. But I better get some extended break hours for this." She stepped onto the pad-- and a slight hum that had been present since they met the navi faded out. It was quiet, dim enough they would have never heard it through the pitter-patter of the rain, and even now it was only noticeable in absentia. Bishop turned to face them, standing on the pad... but her eyes bore a hollow look, and her stance was... off-kilter, almost half-held. She swung her weapon, at least as much as she could in the confined space, and a barrier took the blow. A second swing, a third, a fourth, all at a terrifying pace. "Revenge..." She moaned. "Can never..." She wailed. "Must... must...!" She roared as she struck the barrier again, growing increasingly frantic. The hum kicked in, and Bishop stopped dead in her tracks.
Her head raised, and again she bore the signs of intelligence, the signs of sanity. she quickly fixed her hair, and then she stepped out of the pad, no longer restrained. "Is that... is that satisfactory, sir?" She grunted.
"Quite." Keeper said. "The Memory fault is able to stabilize and restore function to navi ghosts that are, in some cases like Bishop's, even very far gone. The problem is that this requires a massive amount of processing power to handle all the errors and empty calls in the glitched code, as the Memory Fault is effectively forced to emulate an entire network navi framework in order to 'overlay' the remaining code onto it. Such a massive amount of processing power is not possessed by standard PET models, even the ones produced today, and would require a specialized PET that would be four to ten times more expensive than a normal one."
Keeper crossed his legs. "Sometimes our caretakers forget this fact, or willfully deny it. We do everything in our power to rejoin our keeper navis with their original operators, but simply put in most cases they have either already been reloaded from backup, have been replaced, or are simply an ugly reminder of a very bad day for that operator. There area good number of cases where we have successfully merged the glitched forks of navi ghosts with their backup data to repair them, but this is just not feasible in the majority of cases." He turned to look at the hourglass. "So the Memory Fault provides a service that is necessary not just to network navigators like yourself, but to net society as a whole: We lock up navi ghosts that wish to be preserved or are deemed to be legally important, and destroy those which do not and are not."
Keeper gestured behind the two of them, and the book came floating over, hovering above his hand. "While I apologize for the inconvenience, your disconnected state tripped the outer systems, but the inner systems are not so easily fooled. If you would like to leave, we have no reason to hold you. If you would like to ask questions, now would be a good time. If you have no questions, I can jack you out..." He looked toward Eternalis, "...but that would mean leaving Miss Lyntael behind. So instead I would offer to transport the two of you to your network of choice. The Memory Fault exists between the networks, so I can directly connect you to any network you would like, in whatever vicinity you would like. But first, I will field any questions you have."
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Lyntael held her peace through the answers, though she felt herself draw back from the blunt dismissal of her own hurts... It was hard to take the apology as sincere when it was also so clearly perfunctory, at least from her perspective. She initially wanted to speak up as Bishop mis-characterised the source of her upset, but even as she opened her mouth, the display that followed kept her silent and attentive. Despite her best efforts, she did flinch back from Bishop's uncontrolled state, drawing back behind Eternalis slightly until the need for demonstration had passed, but internally her mind was trying to keep up with the explanation, and finding it wanting.
She had to explain what was wrong, since none of them seemed to see it at all, but when it came to it, her thoughts scattered in different directions against the calmly logical tone that the Keeper was talking with. Some part of her found it... distressing, but in a way she couldn't quite grasp. She jumped as the book was brought up from behind them once more, unconsciously shuffling around Eternalis as it passed. The suggestion of jacking out sent a moment of fear flashing through her, before she realised it was more of a rhetorical comment. Her own emulation was still grounded somewhere in Yoka, and she'd at least need to be in that rough network location before she would have any hope of connected to Rogan's PET... right now the idea of going home again was becoming increasingly appealing, even if they hadn't managed to do very much in the way of training at all.
The opportunity was given for them both to ask questions and even though she edged out again, lifting her head and looking to meet the Keeper's eyes, her hands clutched to the centre of her chest, with two fingers circling around her emblem nervously. Being on the spot seemed to pull all the words away from her all at once, and she swallowed, opened her mouth, then swallowed again.
“I... I do. I do have questions. I understand what you're saying, and what... ah, what you're trying to do, but, it still feels wrong. It's not...” She stumbled, biting her lip and looking around as though the control room might supply her the explanation that her heart wasn't managed to translate to her tongue.
“If.. If I'd been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else... What would have happened?” She cast a glance across to Bishop, and considered the vague commendation she'd just received for her actions.
“I'd have been checked, no matter how much I protested or begged not to be... and if the tombs had decided it was enough... what then? I'd have been contained, right? No chance to talk, no concern for what I thought or believed, or what I wanted. You say...” She caught her breath, swallowing again. “You say that you preserve those who want it and... and destroy those who don't, but... how do you know who wants what, when you don't even ask? When you don't even listen when they tell you?” She waved one hand away from herself, trying to gather the point she was driving at more clearly.
“Miss Bishop here was talking about... about what any of us could hope for for a life after... but she doesn't know that, and neither do you, or anyone else. You can't make that judgement for other people; it's not right. You can't just decide that there's nothing else, and then define what you're doing as good, because it's better than oblivion... you don't know! And from what I've seen, you don't actually give people that choice either. You say you do, but that isn't what it felt like to me. Not what I saw.” She stopped and took a longer breath, trying to force her voice back to a semblance of calm. What she needed to do was put her finger one exactly why this had her as worked up as it did. she closed her eyes, and after a moment the small beginnings of crackling in her hair faded away again. She took a long breath and spoke again without opening her eyes.
“I've never really had a chance to think about what might happen to me after I die... And I had to today, very seriously, and very suddenly, because I had to deal, very unexpectedly, with the reality of someone trying to take any kind of potential or possibility of that future or what it might be, away from me, without asking, without caring... and who didn't seem interested in listening to whether I agreed with them, or wanted it to happen.
“I am... I am not... like... most other navigators. When I was brought into this world, it wasn't from a template or a custom model... it wasn't from any of the standard baselines at all. I had no idea whether some scanning system would recognise me as a functional navigator or not, and nor did you, or Bishop, or anyone. But I wasn't asked if it was ok to scan me. It could even be a very big problem for my operator now that you have scanned me unmasked. He's going to be very angry if he finds out I was. But no-one asked. No-one cared. And you just told her that she did a good job. That isn't right.” She stopped and opened her eyes again, looking up.
“Alright. That is why I am so upset. I do have other questions, aside from that...” She felt better, now that she'd found the words properly.
“You say 'today', but what is 'today' for you, in here? You talk about glitched code and ghosts that aren't dead, but are just really broken, or just caught in loops... When 'today' there are navigators out there, who are honestly more glitch and bug than stable code... and they are just fine. They are perfectly capable people, no matter how strange or sometimes unstable. Do you imprison them?
“You treat being unoperated as some kind of terminal death-stoke, and your systems key on and scoop up any navi not connected to a PET... but 'today' there are hundred, thousands... probably millions, really, of unoperated navigators living in sanctuaries and hidden communities all across the net, happy, healthy and living their own lives... do you kidnap them, or invade and abduct whole sanctuaries anywhere you find them?
“Just how many unoperated navis do you have passing through here on a daily basis? There's a lot of them out there, after all, a real lot, far more than any of the relief efforts and charities that operate across the net can keep up with or help support properly... I try to support them when I can, and they never have enough resources to help everyone... so if your systems are as thorough as you claim they are, and they grab any navi that just happens to register as not connected, you must have to deal with a near endless stream of accidental abductions every day. Only, it doesn't look like you do... so... what really happens?” She was doing her best to keep any kind of undue accusation out of her voice, but it was hard when it felt like, to her, too much simply wasn't adding up between their story about the Memory Fault's functions... and the realities of the net outside that she knew. Maybe it all made sense and they truthfully had far more complex answers that they'd just been sparing in an effort to keep things simple... she hoped so, really... but now that she had been given a chance she needed to ask.
She had to explain what was wrong, since none of them seemed to see it at all, but when it came to it, her thoughts scattered in different directions against the calmly logical tone that the Keeper was talking with. Some part of her found it... distressing, but in a way she couldn't quite grasp. She jumped as the book was brought up from behind them once more, unconsciously shuffling around Eternalis as it passed. The suggestion of jacking out sent a moment of fear flashing through her, before she realised it was more of a rhetorical comment. Her own emulation was still grounded somewhere in Yoka, and she'd at least need to be in that rough network location before she would have any hope of connected to Rogan's PET... right now the idea of going home again was becoming increasingly appealing, even if they hadn't managed to do very much in the way of training at all.
The opportunity was given for them both to ask questions and even though she edged out again, lifting her head and looking to meet the Keeper's eyes, her hands clutched to the centre of her chest, with two fingers circling around her emblem nervously. Being on the spot seemed to pull all the words away from her all at once, and she swallowed, opened her mouth, then swallowed again.
“I... I do. I do have questions. I understand what you're saying, and what... ah, what you're trying to do, but, it still feels wrong. It's not...” She stumbled, biting her lip and looking around as though the control room might supply her the explanation that her heart wasn't managed to translate to her tongue.
“If.. If I'd been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else... What would have happened?” She cast a glance across to Bishop, and considered the vague commendation she'd just received for her actions.
“I'd have been checked, no matter how much I protested or begged not to be... and if the tombs had decided it was enough... what then? I'd have been contained, right? No chance to talk, no concern for what I thought or believed, or what I wanted. You say...” She caught her breath, swallowing again. “You say that you preserve those who want it and... and destroy those who don't, but... how do you know who wants what, when you don't even ask? When you don't even listen when they tell you?” She waved one hand away from herself, trying to gather the point she was driving at more clearly.
“Miss Bishop here was talking about... about what any of us could hope for for a life after... but she doesn't know that, and neither do you, or anyone else. You can't make that judgement for other people; it's not right. You can't just decide that there's nothing else, and then define what you're doing as good, because it's better than oblivion... you don't know! And from what I've seen, you don't actually give people that choice either. You say you do, but that isn't what it felt like to me. Not what I saw.” She stopped and took a longer breath, trying to force her voice back to a semblance of calm. What she needed to do was put her finger one exactly why this had her as worked up as it did. she closed her eyes, and after a moment the small beginnings of crackling in her hair faded away again. She took a long breath and spoke again without opening her eyes.
“I've never really had a chance to think about what might happen to me after I die... And I had to today, very seriously, and very suddenly, because I had to deal, very unexpectedly, with the reality of someone trying to take any kind of potential or possibility of that future or what it might be, away from me, without asking, without caring... and who didn't seem interested in listening to whether I agreed with them, or wanted it to happen.
“I am... I am not... like... most other navigators. When I was brought into this world, it wasn't from a template or a custom model... it wasn't from any of the standard baselines at all. I had no idea whether some scanning system would recognise me as a functional navigator or not, and nor did you, or Bishop, or anyone. But I wasn't asked if it was ok to scan me. It could even be a very big problem for my operator now that you have scanned me unmasked. He's going to be very angry if he finds out I was. But no-one asked. No-one cared. And you just told her that she did a good job. That isn't right.” She stopped and opened her eyes again, looking up.
“Alright. That is why I am so upset. I do have other questions, aside from that...” She felt better, now that she'd found the words properly.
“You say 'today', but what is 'today' for you, in here? You talk about glitched code and ghosts that aren't dead, but are just really broken, or just caught in loops... When 'today' there are navigators out there, who are honestly more glitch and bug than stable code... and they are just fine. They are perfectly capable people, no matter how strange or sometimes unstable. Do you imprison them?
“You treat being unoperated as some kind of terminal death-stoke, and your systems key on and scoop up any navi not connected to a PET... but 'today' there are hundred, thousands... probably millions, really, of unoperated navigators living in sanctuaries and hidden communities all across the net, happy, healthy and living their own lives... do you kidnap them, or invade and abduct whole sanctuaries anywhere you find them?
“Just how many unoperated navis do you have passing through here on a daily basis? There's a lot of them out there, after all, a real lot, far more than any of the relief efforts and charities that operate across the net can keep up with or help support properly... I try to support them when I can, and they never have enough resources to help everyone... so if your systems are as thorough as you claim they are, and they grab any navi that just happens to register as not connected, you must have to deal with a near endless stream of accidental abductions every day. Only, it doesn't look like you do... so... what really happens?” She was doing her best to keep any kind of undue accusation out of her voice, but it was hard when it felt like, to her, too much simply wasn't adding up between their story about the Memory Fault's functions... and the realities of the net outside that she knew. Maybe it all made sense and they truthfully had far more complex answers that they'd just been sparing in an effort to keep things simple... she hoped so, really... but now that she had been given a chance she needed to ask.
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With the vast amount of concerns being voiced by his comrade, Eternalis mostly stood by, thinking about the concerns that she put out, and noting that Keeper didn't need their names, as he had assumed earlier. Surveillance it was, then. Either that, or Bishop had reported in sometime earlier. Thankfully, the administration didn't seem to be very keen on keeping them around as much as they didn't want to be around, so he was free to be left to his own thoughts. Mortality wasn't something that he had kept in mind for too long. From a completely logical perspective, freeing up resources for a system was normal behavior for a computative device, but through the lens of "sentience", the situation became more grey. On the other hand, to be of service was ingrained in his core, and he was sympathetic to the inner workings of the Memory Fault as a concept. Still, there was something that nagged at him, with how Lyntael presented her case, but he couldn't quite place his finger on what it was exactly.
After Lyntael had spoken her piece, and a brief moment of silence lingered, with only the dimmest hum that they had been made aware of earlier on the "demonstration", a small crackle sounded, and a video feed window opened up, next to Eternalis. Harke's face appeared once more, and he raised his hand in greeting. "Er, hi. I'm Eternalis's operator, as you might have guessed. Sorry to interject, just wanted to get my question in. The Memory Fault was created by SciLab, as I remember Bishop saying, right? Does it have some department in it that's managing it? I just want to see if I could talk to anyone there. That's all," he said, though he left the video feed open, turning to Eternalis. "Sorry, I think I cut you off on something?"
Eternalis paused for a moment to think, and shook his head. "No, I think all I wanted to know was already asked. Could you send us the coordinates of where we came from? We need that to go back to," he asked.
Harke nodded. "Sure, just a sec," he said, the sound of keys being tapped in the background came before a small data orb appeared in front of Eternalis, lazily floating over towards Keeper. "Alright, that should contain the coordinates of where we jacked in from, in Yoka's Rogue layer."
After Lyntael had spoken her piece, and a brief moment of silence lingered, with only the dimmest hum that they had been made aware of earlier on the "demonstration", a small crackle sounded, and a video feed window opened up, next to Eternalis. Harke's face appeared once more, and he raised his hand in greeting. "Er, hi. I'm Eternalis's operator, as you might have guessed. Sorry to interject, just wanted to get my question in. The Memory Fault was created by SciLab, as I remember Bishop saying, right? Does it have some department in it that's managing it? I just want to see if I could talk to anyone there. That's all," he said, though he left the video feed open, turning to Eternalis. "Sorry, I think I cut you off on something?"
Eternalis paused for a moment to think, and shook his head. "No, I think all I wanted to know was already asked. Could you send us the coordinates of where we came from? We need that to go back to," he asked.
Harke nodded. "Sure, just a sec," he said, the sound of keys being tapped in the background came before a small data orb appeared in front of Eternalis, lazily floating over towards Keeper. "Alright, that should contain the coordinates of where we jacked in from, in Yoka's Rogue layer."
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By the time both Lyntael and Eternalis had finished their speech and questions alike, Keeper had... stopped, again. No, what wasn't right-- unlike the previous transformations, his shift to Elder Keeper had been... slow. Gradual. Almost difficult to notice. In fact, it only became obvious when his business suit was covered with a long, flowing robe, billowing out from nowhere. "Child, you accuse us of making assumptions, of infringing rights... but do you not notice your own assumptions, your own insecurities?" The hourglass, the book, both rose up to float somewhere behind Keeper as he leaned forward. "Given that you have chosen to present your questions all at once, I will answer them each in order."
A small spark released from Keeper's head, and a vidscreen opened next to him; it was clearly footage of Eternalis and Lyntael from several seconds ago, from Keeper's perspective, but it was... different. Odd. His sight seemed to peer deeper into each of them than mere appearance, little side-windows appearing and disappearing next to either of them that even revealed things like inner code functions or memory states. With Lyntael's odd construction and her complete disconnection from her PET, there were far more windows for her than there were for Eternalis.
"“If.. If I'd been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else... What would have happened?”" The memory-Lyntael asked. Keeper let her continue. "“I'd have been checked, no matter how much I protested or begged not to be... and if the tombs had decided it was enough... what then? I'd have been contained, right? No chance to talk, no concern for what I thought or believed, or what I wanted. You say...”" The video paused.
"You are correct, you would have been checked, first by the outer systems; they seek anomalous programming, though I cannot specify what criteria they search for, as noted under Scilab nondisclosure contract 1157-52-A Section C12." Keeper took in a breath. "You are an anomalous program, quite simply; you are not made like most navis by your own admission, and you are furthermore not connected to a PET. It is your unique qualities in combination with your connection status which flagged the outer systems. After you were 'rodeoed' in by the outer systems and the outermost barrier, entirely by mistake I might add, you were then scanned by Bishop, who was performing her assigned function to scan any programs found anomalous by the outer systems." Keeper pointed to Bishop, who seemed like she simply wanted all this to be done with. "Your next issue is that you would be scanned no matter how much you protested or begged not to be, and that is correct. The Memory Fault is a network subsystem required for continued network stability and function, and many programs that do fall well under our intended purview also protest or even fight to avoid scan or containment. You saw Bishop without her rings, yes? Do you honestly think she 'consented' to being scanned? Do you think she sat quietly and said 'yes sir, I'll stand here for a moment'?" Keeper let the question hang. "Your next fault, as presented, is with how we handle the results of the scan... but allow me to clarify what, exactly, the scan checks for, since that seems to be core to several of your issues."
Keeper paused for a moment. The hourglass floated back down, and it became clear to all present that the sands had nearly run out. "A moment, child." He continued to stare as the hourglass slowly emptied, and then he fell still again.
"WOW!" Came a voice from behind Eternalis and Lyntael, loud enough to startle. Young Keeper had somehow appeared behind them, beaming. "Lady, Gooey Man, you're both still here? Weird! Usually anyone I see doesn't stick around for a cycle, unless they're some dumb old boring lady like Bishop." Bishop's eyes narrowed at the comment, and her grip on her staff visibly tightened. "So what was I talking about, anyway?" Young Keeper put a finger to the side of his head. "Blah blah, scans, protests, blah blah, uh huh, stuff, yeah... wow all of this is super boring isn't it?" He moved to sit on the chair, and the ashes of his prior form collapsed into wispy clouds, surrounding him like a cloak upon a child king. "Alright look, you're all suuuper concerned with the concept of death and life and all that wibbly wobbly stuff, but basically when we scan someone, we make sure they're an actually functioning program, as reported by their own internal system metrics. We also run a heur- hoor- hei-..." Keeper frowned.
"Heuristics." Bishop groaned.
"That's it!" Keeper beamed. "We run a-" "Heuristics." -that analysis on them. See, we can't know what every program does and does not look like! That's stupid. You're stupid if you thought that." Keeper shook his head. "So what happens is the Memory Fault's awesome giant computer thinks real hard about what the program is like, and reads kind of the manual in the program of how it's meant to work! We scan everything down to the ittiest, bittiest, tiniest stuff about how you function! It's great, right?" He smiled, apparently oblivious to the implications. "Like, all your memories and experiences and all that boring stuff is encrypted, so we don't bother scanning that, but we can basically read and emulate most of your code, and then see if that code actually, you know, works!" Another figure appeared on the pad Bishop had been going rather crazy on... and this one was familiar. It looked like Eternalis, in all his watery glory, but he was just kind of... standing there. "Say hello to Emulated Eternalis!" Keeper said. "He's not like, actually here or anything." He pulled out a rock from his pocket and threw it through 'Eternalis', and the projection wavered for a moment before fixing itself. The projection began to move, dancing 'the robot', and Keeper continued. "As you can see, no matter how weird his program is, Eternalis clearly works. He can move, there's no reason to assume his consciousness or reasoning are impaired, he's good to go. On top of that he's actively connected to a PET, so our system would be purposefully biased to not pick him up in the first place." The fake disappeared.
"So- errgh, I... darn it!" Young Keeper sort of 'popped' in an explosion of sparkling light, and Keeper proper was sitting in his place. "My apologies for the lack of decorum." He said. "Once we have scanned an entity, the computer decides on whether or not the program represents a program that is, by our standards and code of conduct, 'glitched beyond proper function, in a state of post-deletion, functional in an actively and unbiasedly hostile manner that can be attributed to being a navi ghost, or viral and corrupt in so general a nature as to be a harm to network function.' These are rough summaries of exact things the system looks for, and containment is only enacted if one or more of these very serious issues is found to be the case." Keeper crossed his arms. "While your program is odd, miss Lyntael, you are clearly fully functional, and you are also clearly not viral, not glitched beyond proper function, not in a state of post-deletion, not unbiasedly hostile, and not a threat to network function at large." Keeper took another deep breath as the hourglass flipped. "So if you had been, quote you:"
The video started up, at a different position. "been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else", and then stopped.
"If you had been in any of these states, the Memory Fault would have enacted measures to preserve or repair your program, either via use of chips or by using temporary subsystem attachments to keep you functional. Another, smaller pad floated by, like a tray. It held what looked like a bracelet. "This is a stabilizer program. They come in many shapes and sizes and forms, and can be easily removed. Unlike Bishop's, they are not permanent in any capacity. One would have been fixed to you to keep you from breaking apart, and your operator or program owner would have been contacted via both digital and real-world means." Keeper paused. "Given that you are not connected to a PET, ownership information, if signed into your finished program, could have been read from your digital signature. If you do not have one and were capable of answering, we would simply ask you first instead." Keeper sighed, as if being forced to think about something unpleasant. "If you had revealed to us that you were being treated in a manner that would count as abuse of a sentient program under several statutes, we would be forced to determine whether or not you, being a rather unique program, qualify for those several sentient program protection statutes in place; if you do, the police would be contacted instead. But in any case, all reasonable measures would have been undertaken to return you to your proper place in life. If you were aggressive or in an otherwise quarantine-worthy state, this would occur while you were contained, yes."
The video resumed. "“You say that you preserve those who want it and... and destroy those who don't, but... how do you know who wants what, when you don't even ask? When you don't even listen when they tell you?”"
Keeper cut back in. "After a period of time, usually thirty days though it can and frequently is extended, it is reasonably assumed that we cannot contact a program's operator or owner if we have not been able to find them by now. Once that period of time is reached, we typically ask the program how they would like us to proceed; in the case of programs like Bishop, who were inconsolable and aggressive, we pacify them first via means similar to the ones she is permanently fixed with, and then we either contain them on a long-term basis or delete them. If we cannot communicate with the program, either because it is too far gone or because it is not capable of communication, we tend to err on the side of preservation over deletion, only deleting non-communicative programs that represent a threat to network function."
Keeper paused, thinking. "I believe that answers your next few accusations, though I will treat them as though they were questions... ah, yes, the issue of you being scanned without being asked. Simply put, the Memory Fault does not disclose the functions or code of programs we scan; we use that code to update our heuristics processes and keep them current, but otherwise post-scan 90% of the data is deleted, including all identifying information beyond an encrypted, semi-anonymous identifier that ensures scanned and cleared programs will not be subjected to further mismanagement by the system itself. To put it shortly: We're keeping enough records of you to ensure that we won't accidentally pick you up on our systems again. As for your operator..." Keeper smiled. "Shortly: If he is upset that we have scanned you in our dealings with normal network function, he can deal with it himself. We are perfectly within our legal rights to have done so. I apologize if you personally should end up in trouble with your operator, but simply put I do not care, personally, about the opinions of someone who would leave a valuable one-of-a-kind program to run about the internet unattended in the first place."
Keeper sat up a bit straighter in his seat. The video resumed. "You say 'today', but what is 'today' for you, in here? You talk about glitched code and ghosts that aren't dead, but are just really broken, or just caught in loops... When 'today' there are navigators out there, who are honestly more glitch and bug than stable code... and they are just fine. They are perfectly capable people, no matter how strange or sometimes unstable. Do you imprison them?"
"No." Keeper said. "As should have been answered by my... counterpart's... previous explanation. We do not seek merely operatorless navis, being unoperated simply adds to the, I suppose you could say, 'suspicion value' a given program has to our outer systems. It is not enough by itself to trigger our systems, and a more detailed scan would clear them even if it was." Keeper seemed to think for a bit. "This also renders your next questions about idiocy like abducting navis or invading sanctuaries moot. The Memory Fault does not invade anywhere, for one; we lure, and as I just said we do not target programs for running autonomously. The notion is ridiculous, as is the idea that we process hundreds, or even dozens of false-positive autonomous programs each day. At most we get a single false positive each week, and unlike your case, most of them end within minutes, not hours. Yours is an outlier."
Keeper turned to face Harke next, grabbing the data orb. "We should be easily able to transport you both here, yes." Keeper nodded. "We do have a SciLab department where you can field any complaints, requests, or inquiries, as we require a real-world presence in order to reunite damaged programs with their owners. It would be rather silly if we did not. According to my records, it is the Data Processing department that manages the Memory Fault in the real world."
Once more, Keeper began to grow older before their eyes, but his hourglass had yet to fully run from his normal state. "Are there any other questions or inquiries?"
A small spark released from Keeper's head, and a vidscreen opened next to him; it was clearly footage of Eternalis and Lyntael from several seconds ago, from Keeper's perspective, but it was... different. Odd. His sight seemed to peer deeper into each of them than mere appearance, little side-windows appearing and disappearing next to either of them that even revealed things like inner code functions or memory states. With Lyntael's odd construction and her complete disconnection from her PET, there were far more windows for her than there were for Eternalis.
"“If.. If I'd been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else... What would have happened?”" The memory-Lyntael asked. Keeper let her continue. "“I'd have been checked, no matter how much I protested or begged not to be... and if the tombs had decided it was enough... what then? I'd have been contained, right? No chance to talk, no concern for what I thought or believed, or what I wanted. You say...”" The video paused.
"You are correct, you would have been checked, first by the outer systems; they seek anomalous programming, though I cannot specify what criteria they search for, as noted under Scilab nondisclosure contract 1157-52-A Section C12." Keeper took in a breath. "You are an anomalous program, quite simply; you are not made like most navis by your own admission, and you are furthermore not connected to a PET. It is your unique qualities in combination with your connection status which flagged the outer systems. After you were 'rodeoed' in by the outer systems and the outermost barrier, entirely by mistake I might add, you were then scanned by Bishop, who was performing her assigned function to scan any programs found anomalous by the outer systems." Keeper pointed to Bishop, who seemed like she simply wanted all this to be done with. "Your next issue is that you would be scanned no matter how much you protested or begged not to be, and that is correct. The Memory Fault is a network subsystem required for continued network stability and function, and many programs that do fall well under our intended purview also protest or even fight to avoid scan or containment. You saw Bishop without her rings, yes? Do you honestly think she 'consented' to being scanned? Do you think she sat quietly and said 'yes sir, I'll stand here for a moment'?" Keeper let the question hang. "Your next fault, as presented, is with how we handle the results of the scan... but allow me to clarify what, exactly, the scan checks for, since that seems to be core to several of your issues."
Keeper paused for a moment. The hourglass floated back down, and it became clear to all present that the sands had nearly run out. "A moment, child." He continued to stare as the hourglass slowly emptied, and then he fell still again.
"WOW!" Came a voice from behind Eternalis and Lyntael, loud enough to startle. Young Keeper had somehow appeared behind them, beaming. "Lady, Gooey Man, you're both still here? Weird! Usually anyone I see doesn't stick around for a cycle, unless they're some dumb old boring lady like Bishop." Bishop's eyes narrowed at the comment, and her grip on her staff visibly tightened. "So what was I talking about, anyway?" Young Keeper put a finger to the side of his head. "Blah blah, scans, protests, blah blah, uh huh, stuff, yeah... wow all of this is super boring isn't it?" He moved to sit on the chair, and the ashes of his prior form collapsed into wispy clouds, surrounding him like a cloak upon a child king. "Alright look, you're all suuuper concerned with the concept of death and life and all that wibbly wobbly stuff, but basically when we scan someone, we make sure they're an actually functioning program, as reported by their own internal system metrics. We also run a heur- hoor- hei-..." Keeper frowned.
"Heuristics." Bishop groaned.
"That's it!" Keeper beamed. "We run a-" "Heuristics." -that analysis on them. See, we can't know what every program does and does not look like! That's stupid. You're stupid if you thought that." Keeper shook his head. "So what happens is the Memory Fault's awesome giant computer thinks real hard about what the program is like, and reads kind of the manual in the program of how it's meant to work! We scan everything down to the ittiest, bittiest, tiniest stuff about how you function! It's great, right?" He smiled, apparently oblivious to the implications. "Like, all your memories and experiences and all that boring stuff is encrypted, so we don't bother scanning that, but we can basically read and emulate most of your code, and then see if that code actually, you know, works!" Another figure appeared on the pad Bishop had been going rather crazy on... and this one was familiar. It looked like Eternalis, in all his watery glory, but he was just kind of... standing there. "Say hello to Emulated Eternalis!" Keeper said. "He's not like, actually here or anything." He pulled out a rock from his pocket and threw it through 'Eternalis', and the projection wavered for a moment before fixing itself. The projection began to move, dancing 'the robot', and Keeper continued. "As you can see, no matter how weird his program is, Eternalis clearly works. He can move, there's no reason to assume his consciousness or reasoning are impaired, he's good to go. On top of that he's actively connected to a PET, so our system would be purposefully biased to not pick him up in the first place." The fake disappeared.
"So- errgh, I... darn it!" Young Keeper sort of 'popped' in an explosion of sparkling light, and Keeper proper was sitting in his place. "My apologies for the lack of decorum." He said. "Once we have scanned an entity, the computer decides on whether or not the program represents a program that is, by our standards and code of conduct, 'glitched beyond proper function, in a state of post-deletion, functional in an actively and unbiasedly hostile manner that can be attributed to being a navi ghost, or viral and corrupt in so general a nature as to be a harm to network function.' These are rough summaries of exact things the system looks for, and containment is only enacted if one or more of these very serious issues is found to be the case." Keeper crossed his arms. "While your program is odd, miss Lyntael, you are clearly fully functional, and you are also clearly not viral, not glitched beyond proper function, not in a state of post-deletion, not unbiasedly hostile, and not a threat to network function at large." Keeper took another deep breath as the hourglass flipped. "So if you had been, quote you:"
The video started up, at a different position. "been hurt... if I was bleeding and stumbling, and my bones were broken... if I'd been suffering from glitches, and, and I'd been... I don't know... in toxic shock, or cold shock, or something else", and then stopped.
"If you had been in any of these states, the Memory Fault would have enacted measures to preserve or repair your program, either via use of chips or by using temporary subsystem attachments to keep you functional. Another, smaller pad floated by, like a tray. It held what looked like a bracelet. "This is a stabilizer program. They come in many shapes and sizes and forms, and can be easily removed. Unlike Bishop's, they are not permanent in any capacity. One would have been fixed to you to keep you from breaking apart, and your operator or program owner would have been contacted via both digital and real-world means." Keeper paused. "Given that you are not connected to a PET, ownership information, if signed into your finished program, could have been read from your digital signature. If you do not have one and were capable of answering, we would simply ask you first instead." Keeper sighed, as if being forced to think about something unpleasant. "If you had revealed to us that you were being treated in a manner that would count as abuse of a sentient program under several statutes, we would be forced to determine whether or not you, being a rather unique program, qualify for those several sentient program protection statutes in place; if you do, the police would be contacted instead. But in any case, all reasonable measures would have been undertaken to return you to your proper place in life. If you were aggressive or in an otherwise quarantine-worthy state, this would occur while you were contained, yes."
The video resumed. "“You say that you preserve those who want it and... and destroy those who don't, but... how do you know who wants what, when you don't even ask? When you don't even listen when they tell you?”"
Keeper cut back in. "After a period of time, usually thirty days though it can and frequently is extended, it is reasonably assumed that we cannot contact a program's operator or owner if we have not been able to find them by now. Once that period of time is reached, we typically ask the program how they would like us to proceed; in the case of programs like Bishop, who were inconsolable and aggressive, we pacify them first via means similar to the ones she is permanently fixed with, and then we either contain them on a long-term basis or delete them. If we cannot communicate with the program, either because it is too far gone or because it is not capable of communication, we tend to err on the side of preservation over deletion, only deleting non-communicative programs that represent a threat to network function."
Keeper paused, thinking. "I believe that answers your next few accusations, though I will treat them as though they were questions... ah, yes, the issue of you being scanned without being asked. Simply put, the Memory Fault does not disclose the functions or code of programs we scan; we use that code to update our heuristics processes and keep them current, but otherwise post-scan 90% of the data is deleted, including all identifying information beyond an encrypted, semi-anonymous identifier that ensures scanned and cleared programs will not be subjected to further mismanagement by the system itself. To put it shortly: We're keeping enough records of you to ensure that we won't accidentally pick you up on our systems again. As for your operator..." Keeper smiled. "Shortly: If he is upset that we have scanned you in our dealings with normal network function, he can deal with it himself. We are perfectly within our legal rights to have done so. I apologize if you personally should end up in trouble with your operator, but simply put I do not care, personally, about the opinions of someone who would leave a valuable one-of-a-kind program to run about the internet unattended in the first place."
Keeper sat up a bit straighter in his seat. The video resumed. "You say 'today', but what is 'today' for you, in here? You talk about glitched code and ghosts that aren't dead, but are just really broken, or just caught in loops... When 'today' there are navigators out there, who are honestly more glitch and bug than stable code... and they are just fine. They are perfectly capable people, no matter how strange or sometimes unstable. Do you imprison them?"
"No." Keeper said. "As should have been answered by my... counterpart's... previous explanation. We do not seek merely operatorless navis, being unoperated simply adds to the, I suppose you could say, 'suspicion value' a given program has to our outer systems. It is not enough by itself to trigger our systems, and a more detailed scan would clear them even if it was." Keeper seemed to think for a bit. "This also renders your next questions about idiocy like abducting navis or invading sanctuaries moot. The Memory Fault does not invade anywhere, for one; we lure, and as I just said we do not target programs for running autonomously. The notion is ridiculous, as is the idea that we process hundreds, or even dozens of false-positive autonomous programs each day. At most we get a single false positive each week, and unlike your case, most of them end within minutes, not hours. Yours is an outlier."
Keeper turned to face Harke next, grabbing the data orb. "We should be easily able to transport you both here, yes." Keeper nodded. "We do have a SciLab department where you can field any complaints, requests, or inquiries, as we require a real-world presence in order to reunite damaged programs with their owners. It would be rather silly if we did not. According to my records, it is the Data Processing department that manages the Memory Fault in the real world."
Once more, Keeper began to grow older before their eyes, but his hourglass had yet to fully run from his normal state. "Are there any other questions or inquiries?"