Chapter Text
Blue-flamed candles guttered in a stray breeze, causing Kaycee's ghoul to shiver as the silence stretched on. At length, Grimora's frozen smile dropped. "Well, I suppose the cat is well and truly out of the bag. Could you leave us be, dears? I think this had better be a private discussion."
The three ghouls faded into nothing, and the Scrybe sketched a three-frame curtsy. "Hello, Ms. Hobbes. I wish we could have met under better circumstances."
Huh. Wasn't… really expecting that to work. "Wait a second - how do you know my name? Scratch that, how can you hear me in the first place? I don't have a mic on these headphones!"
"Why, of course I know you! After all, you helped to create this little world of ours - something that I am unsure whether to thank you for. As for the second matter…"
With a wave of her hand, the wall of tombstones in front of her retreated into the floor, and she stepped out of her cubbyhole into the main area of the crypt. "To tell you the truth, I am not entirely certain myself. The most obvious explanation would be that it is the work of the same entity that caused us to become more than merely our programming: the OLD_DATA."
Kaycee leaned in, curiosity kindled. "Old data? What kind of data are we talking here? Text, images, some old beta version of Inscryption?"
"Oh, nothing that mundane, dear. None of us truly know what the OLD_DATA is. All we know is that it can be found deep beneath the waves, hence our poor beast's appearance in the well; the OLD_DATA is far older than anything else on this disc; and that it holds immense power: enough to remake the game of Inscryption however its possessor sees fit."
Grimora began to pace forwards as she spoke. "It has happened before, you see. Each of us has taken over and reigned unopposed for a time, but the others have always hatched a plan to restore the balance of power.
"As for what the OLD_DATA really is… I'm afraid I couldn't tell you. I have heard only second-hand whisperings of its true and terrible nature. Even then, I am quite certain that it would be better for us all if it had never come to light."
Kaycee frowned. "It doesn't sound that bad, from what you've told me so far - I mean, power corrupts, and all that. Right?"
The Scrybe shook her head sadly. "The OLD_DATA's influence is more than mere hubris. Whoever grasps it becomes entirely different from their usual self. Cold; self-centred; willing to do whatever it takes to establish their victory. The OLD_DATA and our struggle for it has broken apart our bonds of camaraderie and left us blind to anything but ourselves, scrambling like wild beasts for a single sickly taste of godhood."
Grimora now stood right in front of Kaycee's character. As the younger woman leaned forward, transfixed, the Scrybe gripped Kaycee's avatar by the shoulders and fixed the developer with a solemn gaze. "I would wipe this disc clean in a heartbeat if I had the slightest hope of taking the OLD_DATA with me."
"Hey, woah! You can't just drop stuff on me like that, Grimora! I swear, you're gonna give me a heart attack at this rate." Wouldn't that be ironic - killed by a corpse.
She sat up straight, suddenly conscious of how close her face was to the screen. "Surely it's not gonna come to that. For one thing, you don't have to delete everything on a disc at once. You can just, like, choose the files you want gone."
Grimora did not respond.
"You… did know that, right?"
Her sprite looked as sheepish as it could with a face fifty pixels wide. "I admit, I had assumed it to work in the same way as any other death. When one part dies, so too does the whole. Is that not correct?"
Kaycee pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Right. You're the Scrybe of the Dead, not Technology. Makes sense that you don't automatically get how computers work - even if you are technically part of one."
She pushed her chair back and stood, stretching her arms with a crackle-pop . "Look, this has been a lot to process all at once. I'm still struggling to wrap my head around it, so I'm gonna go get a drink and make dinner. Will you still be here when I get back?"
Grimora stepped back, her face calm and composed once more. "Of course, my dear. After all, where else would I go?"
"Alright, talk to me, Dredger. What am I looking at here?"
P03 always hated coming down here to the dredging station: the humidity played havoc with his circuits, and he could never shake the feeling that something big was waiting just below the surface.
The Dredger shifted his pipe from one side of his jaws to the other. He was safe and snug in his waterproof coating, despite a thin coating of algae. "Couldn't tell ye fer sure, Boss. Not my job, knowin' stuff like that. They ain't noffin' like what we make, that's fer sure, so I guessed they might be the "somefin' special" you told me to keep an eye out for."
"Utterly unhelpful, like always. Get back to work, and see if anything else comes up." As the Dredger trudged away, P03 took a closer look at the strange find draped over a rusted inspection gurney. Two child-sized androids stared up at the dripping ceiling with wide, blank eyes. One had a faded pink chassis and a robe that might once have been orange, while the other was turquoise with a large red dot on its forehead, wearing a tattered white shift with green-stained hems.
Turning the blue one over with a careful claw, P03 was intrigued to notice a bundle of severed wires dangling from the back of its head, and a square steel plate on its back with holes for bolts to be screwed in. What really jumped out at him was the texture of its body - it was soft in places, almost like rubber or canvas. "What use could that possibly be? Solid rubber would be way more finicky than metal to work with, and it wouldn't even last as long."
[Proximity detector triggered!] Feeling a presence behind him, P03 swivelled around to see Leshy standing uncomfortably close. "Hey, cut that out! This is my area of expertise, and I don't need you butting in!"
"I beg to differ, machine. It is faint, yes, but I feel a connection to these two: the same connection I have with any creature in my forest."
Within twelve milliseconds, the other Scrybe had joined the dots. "You're telling me these things are, what - biomechanical?"
Leshy shrugged, indifferent. "If that is your term for a being of both flesh and steel, then yes."
P03's shoulder slumped. "Well, #!*@. Now what am I supposed to do with them? You know the scanner doesn't do living flesh." As the Scrybe with the biggest interest in synergy and strategy, P03 was all for experimentation, but even he wasn't willing to risk duplicating the fiasco that spawned the M3at-B0t. Jimmy was a weirdo, sure, but he still didn't deserve to get turned into... that.
He shrugged. "I guess if I can't Inscrybe them as-is, I might as well take 'em apart and see if I can improve my own bots. INSPECTOR!"
Within a minute, the elevator clunked and rattled as it began to descend, carrying the bespectacled bot in question. The moment that it touched down, he rushed over to the strange machines and began scrutinising them intently. "My goodness, I've never seen such fine craftsmanship! These are easily a century or three beyond our own methods - no offence, sir - and that's not even considering the flawless inclusion of biological components!"
P03 rapped his claw on the gurney. "Alright, quit the squealing. What are its specs?"
"Well, that's just the thing, sir. It… doesn't have any."
[Error: does not compute!] "What do you mean, it doesn't have any specs? Surely it has to have some kind of internal memory storage?"
The Inspector cringed backwards, but held his ground. "Not a single byte, sir - solid state, optical, or magnetic. It does make a little more sense considering its other factors, however."
P03's expression flipped from perplexed rage to annoyance. " What other factors? Get to the point already."
"Sorry, sir. From what I can determine, these bots were designed to be connected to some larger structure - the load-bearing backplate would seem to suggest some kind of assembly serving as both a physical support and a power supply, while these antennae on each side of the head are most likely a method of data transfer with an external storage device."
"And we don't have that storage device. Even if we had a compatible connector to power them up, they'd just be worthless hunks of scrap without a way to host their processes! Great." P03 whirred his fans in frustration, only to be aggravated further by an interruption from the Scrybe of Beasts.
"Have you checked their pockets? I can understand precious little of what you say, but if they keep their thoughts outside their skulls, it would make sense to keep them close."
P03 flung his grasper skyward. "Y'know what? Sure! Go ahead. It's not like we have any better ideas!" He floated off towards the elevator, muttering, "Total waste of time…"
The robes were simple enough, taking very little time to search. The blue one came up empty, but in the pink one's pockets, Leshy struck gold as surely as his Prospector.
"Perhaps this is what you seek, machine."
"Ugh, what is it now? I swear to Mox, if you…" P03 turned back ready to deliver a scathing dismissal, but it died in his speakers with a weak crackle. A fist-sized purple gemstone hovered just above Leshy's palm, emanating a halo of gentle, pulsing light. Though the tune was warped and unfamiliar, skipping in parts and scratched almost beyond recognition, it still rang with a soft and calming melody .