The elevator into Qlipoth Fort’s lower archive chamber groaned as it descended through layers of reinforced steel. Cold air bled through the seams. It was the kind of place no one visited unless they had to — or unless they were Sunny.
He walked in like it was his kitchen.
Bronya looked up from the terminal and exhaled through her nose.
"You’re late."
Earlier that day, Sunny had inford her that he’d be coming to perform his ’detective work’.
"Am I? Ti sounds like an abstract concept invented by cowards who couldn’t keep up with ."
Sunny said, striding toward her.
Seele, following close behind, muttered:
"He’s been talking like that for the past hour. You invited this."
Bronya ignored her, eyes flicking back to Sunny.
"You said this was important. But I should warn you now — we don’t have much. I checked. There isn’t anything very concrete from before the Eternal Freeze. No real data... just don’t break anything."
Sunny grinned.
"? Never. I’m a guest. I break a lot of things, but I’d never destroy the property of my benevolent host."
She gave him a long look — the kind that filtered through both habit and instinct. Seele was black — soaked in an off-putting malevolence. Sunny, as always, was a void.
No black. No white. No color. No concept of morality, good or bad.
He just was.
Bronya didn’t ntion it. She never did.
"Access is granted," she said, stepping aside. "Terminal’s yours."
Sunny slid in front of it like he owned the place. The interface flared to life, and the machine spat out fragnts; worn poetry, distorted translations, those kinds of things.
Although the Universe shared a common language, certain places that suffered from isolation didn’t. Naturally, Jarilo-VI’s civilization from a few millennia ago weren’t caught up with the tis.
Sunny read them in silence.
No nas. No descriptions. No geography. No records of battles. Just poetry — the kind that survived apocalypses because it ant nothing.
His jaw tightened ever so slightly.
Seele crossed her arms.
"Well? You going to find so big buried truth, or is this where your grand theory dies in a snowbank?"
Sunny’s voice was quiet.
"It’s not nothing."
"Looks like nothing."
"It’s not!"
He tapped the screen again, scrolling faster now — through more vague taphors, through songs that could have ant anything, through prayers to the sole god that these olden people believed in.
Jarilo was there. But only barely.
No proof of a real person. No artifacts. No evidence.
Sunny turned back to the terminal. He stared at it for a few seconds more — at the lines of hollow divinity and snow-covered history.
Then he powered it off.
"That was a waste of ti. Bye, Bronya. Get moving, Watson."
***
The walk to Clara’s sector in the Underworld wasn’t long, but the air grew colder the deeper they went. Not the harsh cold of the old Eternal Freeze, but a quiet one.
Snow still lingered here despite the lt above, layered thick across rooftops and railings. Further beyond, the less-structured Robot Settlent would appear.
Seele fiddled with the ends of the oversized trench coat Sunny forced her to wear.
"Why are we going to the Robot Settlent? I doubt there’s anything we could find there."
Sunny hopped over a half-frozen pipe.
"Clara’s a Saint. I’m sure we could work with that. Plus, she has Svarog."
"And that makes her useful?"
"Obviously. Do I really need to spell it out for you, Watson?"
Seele squinted at him.
"That’s not my na."
Sunny didn’t care.
When they arrived at the mansion, they bore witness of the unusual scene of robots stacking atop eachother like a tower. Clara watched in amazent as Svarog stood beside her, his glowing eye periodically glowing slightly brighter.
She looked up as they approached, eyes wide and red. Her white hair tangled gently in the wind.
Her expression brightened even more, if such a thing was even possible. Sunny gripped his arm with the other as he resisted the urge to pat her on the head.
’Must... stay... in... character!’
To others, it must have looked like he was in agony.
"Mister Sunny! Miss Seele! What are you two doing here?"
Sunny nonchalantly tilted his head lower to look at Clara.
"Hmph. Don’t mind us, chump. This is just detective business. Shadow detective business—"
"Don’t mind him. He’s playing pretend. Just try to answer his questions if you can, okay?"
Sunny flinched as Clara sent him an inquisitive look after hearing Seele’s remark.
"Mister Sunny, aren’t you too old to be playing pretend?"
Sunny smiled.
"Don’t listen to this idiotic assistant of mine. Don’t you know? All adults pretend. Right Svarog?"
The robotic voice replied:
"After reaching a certain level of physiological maturity, humans have shown a tendency to mask their inner thoughts by using slightly different personas in certain environnts. This can be considered a survival instinct developed from when they were hunter-gatherer groups."
Sunny nodded.
"Basically, that’s a yes."
He sent a smug look towards Seele, who simply rolled her eyes. Looking back towards Clara, he asked:
"Speaking of detective business, have you heard about any...particularly powerful individuals? As strong as you, maybe? By the na of Jarilo?"
Clara thought for a long mont, swaying slightly in place. Then, almost unconsciously, she looked to Svarog.
"No directives registered."
Her brow furrowed.
"I don’t think so. Isn’t that the na of this world?"
Sunny nodded, then sighed. There was a slightly nagging feeling in the back of his mind.
"...Hey, Clara. You’ve seen the Engine of Creation, right? What do you think of it?"
She bead.
"It’s amazing! The materials it’s made of don’t look like anything I’ve seen before, and the Essence circuits are kind of like what I make, but also really different! Um... I don’t know what happened to the head, but when I was checking on it, the Essence regulator was completely missing. I think soone stole it."
Sunny recalled the explosion that happened on the Engine of Creation’s head. He blinked.
’Theft?’
Sunny narrowed his eyes.
"Are you sure it was stolen?"
Clara nodded.
"That’s the only way it could be moved out of the robot."
Sunny humd, a sliver of understanding being grasped as he made an educated guess:
"A third party!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers