Prologue | ???

Endings

The time is growing closer. I am confident that the first true success will result from Subject 908’s remapping trial. I just need to recalibrate the theta aligners. One more time.

“You requested my presence?”

I spin on my heel to be met with the presence of my dearly beloved assistant. As always, she’s a reliable and dedicated employee: uniform pristine and pressed, arms sheathed and at the ready, scarlet eyes watching behind me for the first glimpse of danger or defiance from any bad actors.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my child,” I tell her with a smile, taking her gloved hands in mine. “I trust your mission in Nilli Fossae went according to plan?”

“Affirmative.”

907 has always been a favourite of mine, of course, but I still take care not to let that fact slip around the others. There’s always the chance she’ll grow a complex, let it get to her silly little head. And then?

The others will follow suit.

When elements of my work aren’t uniform, when they aren’t the same, I can’t keep this operation of mine running smoothly. And then what would I do?

“And what of any…loose ends?”

“They won’t be a problem anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear,” I assure her. “Now, come. I must show you what I’ve been working on.”

Dragging 907 behind me by the hand, I stride towards the double doors of frosted glass that lead into my laboratory. My open palm rests on the free-standing scanner, cool to the touch. I offer a direct glance ahead at the retina identification system. The doors immediately slide apart: soundless and sophisticated, yet so simplistic!

“Alright,” I begin as I guide 907 through the entrance, “I know I’ve been prattling on about this project for years now. But...I’ve finally completed it!” I raise a finger in the air. “And I wanted you to be the first to know!” I give her a wide smile before gesturing to the open space before us. “Do you like it?”

“I...I don’t know what to say, my Guiding Light, I—”

“That’s quite alright, 907. You don’t have to say anything. Just take it all in...”

She does exactly as I request of her. A smile creeps across my lips as I admire the fruits of my labour. Nine Hydro-Repair Chambers, digital-class IX. Each one, perfect and pristine, cylindrical glass with metallic platforms on both ends, built to my exact specifications by my technicians. I press my palm against the tempered glass surface. Cool to the touch, just as I’d expected. Immaculate and clear. I left no ambiguities within my designs; how was I supposed to when so much is at stake here?

My lips draw closer as I take a breath. Slow and steady.

“The remapping procedure will commence tonight,” I divulge to 907. “It hasn’t wandered off again, has it?”

“Negative. It remains in Sector 3 as we speak.”

“Good.”

As 907 and I return to admire the Hydro-Repair Chambers, my mind begins to wander.

Is my goal even possible?

Complications are always a given with any sort of procedure; it’d be stupid to presume otherwise. In the early stages of my research, the complications of each trial far outweighed that of the benefits. Despite this, I’d barely salvaged my subjects. Each calibration, every adjustment. All margins of error were accounted for. And yet it still wouldn’t be right. My last experiment was the closest to succeeding, but I’m determined to make the next one count for something. My confines were— and still are— razor-thin. But if I get this, if I make this work, it’ll be the moment that finally immortalises the Watchful Eye of Aurakalas with the other greats of this world.

Despite the countless trials I’ve conducted over the past five years, despite the endless calibrations and fine-tunes I’ve painstakingly completed to ensure this machine cannot fail my subjects, the facts remain as clear as day. Tonight’s procedure remains highly experimental in nature.

Between success and failure, there lies a ghost of a hair.

“Very well,” I instruct my assistant. “I think it’s time.”

“Affirmative.” She turns on her heel and approaches the doors once more.

“Your mission is clear, 907?” I instruct my soldier.

“My mission is clear,” she responds, pushing her hand against the exit button. “Retrieve the Treatise of the Magna Carta. Evade their capture. Capture means death.”