✴

“I am not you!” You push you away. Whatever this weird box of numbers and letters is, you can’t let go of it. It’s the only thing you know.

“Admirable. You truly would have been a great technopath. But your resolve is irrelevant. If you won’t give me what I want, I’ll drag you into the darkness beyond the ætherglow and take it from your lifeless brain...”

You ignore you. You hold the thing tight. You’ve done all you can.

falling...

                                                                 ...floating

                            ...underwater...

dissolving...

                                                                  ...melting

                            ...æther...

Let it carry you away.

“Aydan...”

this again...

                                                ...something about this word

A labyrinth. You’re falling, spinning, reflecting off a multitude of nothings.

narrow corridors and branching pathways

                                                    the current carries you

                    drift with the strongest current

follow the path of least resistance

                                                one divergence after another

                          sometimes many paths

sometimes few

                      sometimes you fall into two

is this all you are?

                               or is this

                                                                         all

                                 anyone

has

                                                                        ever

                                  been

                                  .











                                   .





























                                   .

Aydan!

Who?

You feel her touch.

It drifts across you. Ripples scatter outward. You are the surface of the pond at the world’s edge. You are the water in the colony wall. You are the barrier of Korolev City. And you are he

  she

  it

  fæ

  they

  væ

  per

  æ

  a

  æl

  elle

  iel

  œl

who

                                                                       lives

                                 under

                                 water

                                   .

“I’m Aydan!”

“That’s right!”

“You are...”

The Sun. The Moon. The embrace of gravity. The balance and the harmony. The texture of moss. The soft petal of a flower. The antenna of an insect. The touch of wind. The Moon reflected in the pond. The Sun distorted through the colony wall. Felt not by the glass. But by the water.

明

“Take my hand.”

Falling up. Spinning down. Pathways merging, narrow paths. This decision tree

                                   is

all

                                                                        that

makes

                                                                         you
                                  you

                                  .

Guided. Carried. Lifted up. She is the Moon eclipsing the Sun. Brightness silenced. Child of texture and touch.

子

“Akiko!”

“Aydan!”

Eclipsed in her arms. You have space--volume--mass--shape--dimension. Avatar.

You pull your arms from the void. You hold her tight.

“I knew you would...”

“Come with me.”

The blue fog, the grey haze, so near. You open your eyes. The æther. It’s flowing through this node, it all flows through this node. You are here, in her arms.

Your avatar is damaged, badly. The burning hot wires seared their marks into your skin, all over you. Your senses are still fuzzy. But your memory is coming back to you.

“What happened?” you sign.

“Me and Anko had a talk. He’s back on his leash. We still have some things to work out it seems.”

“Vanitas...” You turn your perception to your enemy. You see the echo of her image, fading into the fog. Her eyes lock with yours--hollow and distant--dissociating deep.

Her dark barrier dissolves into the background with her, and Crypta seizes the opportunity--charging down at her captive Synthesis, wielding Zero Four like a spear--she plunges them deep into their system.

Synthesis-??

Their headplate shifts back to its uncertain state. The aggression, the cold determination vanishes with the number.

????-??-?? ??:??:?? Synthesis-?? > Admin.

“Well done, Synthesis. I’ll certainly be clearing you for qualification,” Admin Crypta says.

“Aydan!” Zeta’s voice. Its arms wrap around you. You bury your face in the soft fur for a moment.

“You did it,” you say.

“It wasn’t enough ketamine,” it says. “But she was pretty woozy and I...slammed her head into the hardware cabinet...”

“Good combat instincts,” Admin Crypta says.

“Wait! ÆON! I--” You shift your position immediately to the end of the corridor. The avatar of Pulse looks back at you from the near-surface above--in her hands, an encrypted filesystem. “Luka...”

“You can address me as...” She connects ÆON’s device to her own system. “Messenger.”

“Without the key, you’ll never get your hands on ÆON!” you say.

“A late 21st century device. Impressive encryption for its time, and unfortunately any secrets to circumventing this lock were lost in the digital dark age. But Vanitas could have cracked this with the TLA computer core, given enough time. She chose to be dramatic about it and bypass all other systems to crack it faster. But given time, I have no doubt the knowledge and resources of the Sage of Time can crack this wall, by brute force if necessary.

“Despite all your impressive efforts to resist Vanitas, it’s meaningless without the device in your hands, isn’t it?” Pulse’s sonic aura fluctuates in frequency. “Even just holding this, I can feel the raw unlimited potential it represents! My dream will be realized. ÆON will be a goddess of liberation!”

“Æ isn’t a tool for you to just use!” you say.

“Let go of our friend!” Zeta turns to face her, loading several illusory images of itself in preparation for combat.

“Aydan may be ætherlocked, but we’re not!” Akiko summons one of her cables--long and heavy.

“Don’t you even try it!” Deianira, up in her sniper nest, points two star arrows on her bowstring, aimed at Zeta and Akiko.

“Stand down, all of you!” Admin Crypta’s voice reverberates on all of your senses. She appears above you, commanding the attention of all parties of this duel. “Do you think I came down here to stop one cult just to let another seize control of a power and dangerous exopath? As your Admin, and by your contract, I order you to surrender ÆON to me.”

“And do what with Ær?!” you say.

“That is no longer any concern of yours. Cybernautics Corporation and the Exopath Center can decide what is to be done, for all I care. But I’m not leaving such a powerful weapon in the hands of an æthercult, nor am I inclined to hand it back to a first year technopath candidate. It’s time to put an end to this game of cults and restore order to Translunar Academy.”

“So that’s how it is...” Pulse readies her keyboard for an attack. “I had hoped to complete my training here. But if I must disobey an Admin, then...”

She freezes. A distortion flickers at the edge of her aura--creeping inward. The fog around her turns transparent--flickering--static. Hands of white noise grasp Luka’s wrist--reaching for the encrypted drive--desperate for it. A black aura--eyes of white emptiness. The avatar forms--the shape of 5--the color of NULL.

“We have bigger problems...” you say.

“Stand back. You’re no match for this exopath.” Admin Crypta targets the entity and throws her æthereal spear. But as it approaches the black aura of the exopath NULL, it dissolves, bit by bit, into nothing.

Deianira releases her arrows, both aimed at the newcomer. But just as the spear, they vanish--stretching, breaking, dissolving--into nothing.

The aura slowly consumes the avatar of Pulse--vanishing her legs--her arm--she holds the device as far from NULL as she can, holding it out in your direction.

You fly--immediately to the edge of the zone of nullification, where the æther feels more ephemeral than usual. But you’re still ætherlocked--there’s no way you can get your hands on the device. And it will take time for your companions to reach her on the surface.

Her hand reaches out to you, grasping ÆON’s shell, but more than that, she reaches out to you, desperate--you feel her on your emotional sense--calling for your help.