“Before we enter this… factory,” Hank says, looking squarely at Chloe and . “I want both of you to take a mont to steel yourselves. It will be… difficult. Especially for you, Sera.”
“What do you think he ans by that?” Chloe asks.
“I don’t know. But I think it’ll be a piece of whatever he’s currently holding back from us. And a step closer to figuring out who and what we really are.”
Chloe takes my hand. “Let’s go,” she says.
The outside of the factory is plain. Its obverse is plain steel, slightly stained and rusted by the damp atmosphere within the dungeon. No insignia dot the wall, and while the flow of Ether is distorted, I don’t see any glyphs that would be responsible.
The first thing that takes by surprise is how much bigger the inside of the factory is compared with the outside. It’s maybe a twenty foot cube when looked at from the outside, but once I step inside, I see a factory floor that stretches on for well over a hundred feet in length and width alike, with a ceiling at least fifty feet high. Spatial expansion glyphs were common in the world I— or the original Seraphina— ca from, which lends more evidence to Hank’s words that they really did know about the System well in advance, to be able to create such a building in a dungeon in less than half a year.
Also good to know that it is possible to create nested arrangents of spatially-expanded areas. I can think of more than a few possibilities for how to exploit this in the future.
The second thing that takes by surprise, though it probably shouldn’t, is the bloodied corpses which lay on the floor in the building. Mostly human, with a few Seraphina androids among them. Deaths on both sides. Maybe I could have prevented so of them had I been stronger. As I am, though, I feel I took the best course of action, knowing what I did at the ti.
“What will happen now?” I ask Clara.
“Well, we’ll have to investigate… I’ll be paying a visit to a great many of my subordinates’ kin, should I have the opportunity to do so. Not to ntion we need to figure out who everyone on their side is, and start doing investigations into who they are, what led them down this path… Maybe then we can get to the bottom of the how and why.”
“It seems pretty obvious to ,” Hank says. “A world in flux, lives being lost, families torn asunder. Strongn promising easy solutions to difficult problems have always had a certain appeal during tis of crisis.”
“And yet, your work only fostered such despotism.”
“My colleagues’ work has, yes, and to the extent I aided them, I will accept the bla and work to atone for my cris. My goals, however, were just the opposite. To create hope where there might not otherwise be any. To give the people of planet Earth soone to look up to, as a guide and a guardian, rather than as a ruler.” Hank turns to Chloe and and gives us a smile. “I was successful. And I couldn’t be more proud of what my daughters have accomplished.”
“Creating us,” Chloe says, downtrodden. “Is that how he sees us?”
“I don’t think so, but I promise you, we will get our answers.”
“Spare the theatrics and the monologues, Mr. Jacobs. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a person of interest in my investigation into these matters.”
Hank walks past Clara and toward one of the unfinished Seraphina robots hanging on a set of wires in the room. “I think things will beco a lot clearer once we take a look at this.”
“What exactly are these, besides being robotic copies of Miss Mortensen?” Clara asks.
“Robotic copies of Miss Mortensen wouldn’t quite be right, Agent Bennett. They are robots containing the Seraphina data. In that respect, they are the sa as Sera.”
“Wait,” Clara says. “It’s not the first ti I’ve heard this, but I want an explanation. What exactly is the Seraphina data?”
Hank uses his [Strangulating Tendrils] to pry open the chest of the robot in question, eventually locating both the [Crimson Heart] along with so sort of microchip of a model I’ve never seen before. Unlike with earlier, this crystalline core does nothing to try to ensnare him.
He stares at the crystal for several seconds with furrowed brows, then crushes it in an iron grip. “So that’s what he’s doing. How contemptible.”
“What do you an?” I ask.
“It’s not quite mind control. It’s a combination of a curse and a failsafe. The spell scans its target’s ntal impulses and Skill uses against the will embedded into the stone. Should the two run contrary to one another, the stone will first attempt to correct those errant ntal wavelengths with a sort of restriction magic. Then, should the bound individual— or automaton, as the case may be— still resist, the stone then floods the target with overabundance of [Fire]-aligned Ether until the creature lts from the inside.”
“That explains a lot,” I say.
“Why go through all the trouble?” Clara asks.
“Because the Seraphina data is embedded with the primal concept of freedom,” I say. “Not freedom in the sense of legal freedoms and rights, or the freedom to act on one’s initiative. It is freedom in the sense of being free from fate, of having the freedom to choose one’s own future, bound by no higher power.”
“My daughter speaks the truth.”
“Wait,” Clara says. “I thought Miss Jacobs was your daughter.”
Hank turns to . “Sera is my daughter in every way that matters. Though, I’m surprised you know that.”
“I have so of the mories of my… of the original Seraphina’s past life. Beyond that, I have Classes and Skills relating to exactly that. Ones that have spoken to on a deep level.”
“Interesting,” Hank says. “I would like to ask you about them later, if you don’t mind sharing. However, I’ve found what I’m looking for.”
Hank holds up the microchip and begins so sort of… it’s hard to tell, but it appears to be pulling sothing out of the circuits embedded within. The tendrils start to shiver and undulate in erratic patterns that remind of that void beast from my vision earlier this evening. The structure never focuses on a fixed position for too long, instead constantly unraveling and then folding back in on itself. Thanks to my [Reconfiguration] and [Multidinsional Glyphcasting] Skills, I can intuit that this structure exists in more than three dinsions— at least five— and probably on multiple layers of reality to boot.
“Ugh… What is that?” Chloe asks. “It feels like it’s sothing that shouldn’t exist. Makes my head hurt just to look at it.”
“I second both of those statents,” Clara says. “I must insist on a straight answer. No funny business or end-arounds. I want an explanation of what this… thing is, and one that makes sense to my ears.”
Wait… That’s– No, it can’t be, but at the sa ti, it must be. And when I think more about it, I know it to be true from the depths of my very being.
“This code is sothing that hacks the very nature of reality,” I say. “It manages to burrow through the various layers of reality until it reaches the root layer on which the System operates. It’s… I suppose, a small-scale virus, ard with sufficient antidetection and spoofing properties to prevent elimination. It disguises itself as sothing legitimate so the System doesn’t try to delete it.”
“I’m sorry in advance for my language,” Clara says. “But, the fuck?”
“Sera speaks true. This is the heart of the Seraphina code. Its developers called it ｢The Anomaly｣. Considering how it acts as sothing of a System rootkit, only on The System instead of a computer operating system, the na is well-founded.
“The past twenty-two years, we’ve been working to understand the nature of this so-called ｢Anomaly｣. From it, we’ve gotten so insight into the nature of the System, although even in a thousand years, I’m not sure we’d be able to fully reverse engineer it, let alone try to improve upon it.”
Clara sighs. “So you’ve spent twenty years developing a technology that you admit you don’t fully understand? You’ll have to forgive if that cos off as reckless, to say the least.”
“All science is, a little bit. But it’s the desire to understand the world— and the System— that spurs us onward.”
Clara pulls out a glass of water and a pair of ibuprofen tablets, then downs them. She turns to Chloe. “Please tell that I’m not the only sane one here.”
Chloe shakes her head. “I don’t understand a lot of it myself, but I trust Dad and I trust Sera. Dad is… well, he’s brilliant. And Sera is, well, she’s as free-spirited as the conversation suggests, and you’re already well-aware of her antipathy toward any sort of established rules or order.”
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” She turns to Hank. “So, what happens now?”
“We’re going to destroy all of the Seraphina data here to ensure it won’t fall into the wrong hands, and then we’re going to shatter the dungeon’s core.”
“Hold on just a minute,” Clara says. “I’m sure even you know how dangerous that is. We don’t have a clue what will spawn to take this dungeon’s place, not to ntion–”
Hank stares at her. “Do you have enough agents with a high enough level to secure this dungeon? Just because Daryl is dead and his blood is staining the ground doesn’t an Renault doesn’t have more subordinates on the way. If you can’t secure this entire facility with your limited manpower, you’re just asking to repeat this operation in two or three or however many weeks.”
“Hold on a minute,” Chloe says. “Sera, I know you and Dad are going to discuss all this research and science stuff, and I’m not going to try and stop you. But have either of you stopped to ask just where in the world Mom is right now? You know, the whole reason why we’re here right now, besides the family reunion.”
“Oh, thank you,” Clara whispers to herself. “She’s alive and in stable condition, resting outside with the captives and the rest of my agents,” Clara says. “A bit injured from the fight, but fortunately, one of my agents was able to secure her before the main battle got underway.”
We all three breathe a long sigh of relief at that.
“I was going to offer to transport her to a dical unit for processing, but considering Miss Jacobs is far and away the best [Healer] I’ve heard of, I have no issues remanding Mrs. Jacobs to her daughter’s care, ethical considerations notwithstanding.”
“I’m happy to help, and I’ll treat the rest of your agents and stabilize any captives.”
“I’d eagerly accept the offer, Miss Jacobs,” Clara says. “Now then, shall we do whatever it is we’re going to do, and soon? I’m going to need a very, very long sleep, and I would appreciate not wasting any more ti in this… junkheap.”
A device on Clara’s ear pings. “Agent Bennett reporting, over.”
I can’t make out the words on the other end of the line, but I can tell from the way Clara’s eyes dilate and her teeth start gritting against each other that whatever it is isn’t good. By the end of the conversation, she’s in a full scowl, with teeth clenched, yanking out a half-dozen [Superior Ether Canisters] and using one of them herself.
She hands one to each of us. “Miss Mortensen, I understand that you’re not going to be able to fight very effectively, but anything you can spare would be useful. As for you two, Mr. and Miss Jacobs, let’s hurry. We’ve got trouble of the worst kind approaching, and quickly.”
Hank sighs, as though he knows already. I have a suspicion as well, but it’s Chloe who asks first.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Well, it seems Renault is on the move. His plane will be landing in about fifteen minutes.”
Fuck.
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