12 Miles Below

“Are you done meditating on all this dear?” Cathida asked, as I sat cross legged inside the smoke and dust of the tower ruins.

In front of me was the object of my woes: The terminal I needed to access.

“Mostly.” I lied. “What’s the ETA with the Odin here? Think they’ll be able to get the smoke cleared in time to wire things up?”

“A little bold of you to think you’d get that kind of break.” Cathida laughed. “Even if you brought all the fans in the entire outpost here and set them on max blast, doubt you’d clear out the smoke in time to have anything be legible. Also gotta clean out the soot too. Journey’s advising you simply cut and run. Get the coordinates for the nearest mite fountain and start making your way there.”

“Ratshit.” I hissed, head knocking backwards and clinking against the metal wall behind me. The idea of jumping into the digital sea again simply because it was the fastest way to work with the terminal was seriously freaking me out more than it had any right to.

Logically, it’s a bad move given Relinquished is out there and more than capable of squashing me like a bug.

Emotionally, I don’t want to be squashed like a bug.

Long term strategy-wise, getting in contact with the Icon as quickly as I can would open up new options for getting in touch with Wrath, or getting the Odin to help out. Whichever faction out there was willing to help.

On the other hand, getting squashed like a bug would be bad for my overall long term strategic goals.

And that’s when my tired and addled brain finally knocked enough brain cells together to light a spark: I could use the occult to vent out the room.

Not exactly the entire room, but enough to get a snapshot view of the terminal I’m working with, and see if there’s any writing that explains anything at all about the ports here. “Journey, I got a plan.”

“Hang on, let me get some snacks.” The digital construct with no means to eat snacks said. “I want to see what kind of convoluted plan is better than just looking west and walking away from all this.”

I got up from my sitting position and crawled over to the terminal. “I can clear the smoke out for a few seconds at best, but I need Journey to remember where all the details are on this thing.”

Drakonis had picked up shockwaves as a fractal ability from one of the pillar hearts. Of which, he’d unknowingly shared the recordings with me that had those fractals inscribed over the pillars. With full access to a nanoswarm capable of breaking down material down to the atoms along with a golden age computer capable of video analysis, it was possible to copy paste the fractals found on the recordings.

I admit some of the other spells he’s got are taking me a little bit of time to figure out how to make work, but shockwaves and lashes were already under my belt.

I dug deep into the occult, drawing my will out to all the shockwave fractals inscribed around the outside of my armor, hidden among the massive amounts of lines and false patterns. Occult wreathed around me, crackling across the plates outwards, glowing dim blue in the darkness of the smoke.

A series of weak shockwaves pulsed out of my armor rhythmically, strong enough to shove the air out of the way... and doing absolutely nothing to the smoke. Scrap. Pushing air away made a vacuum, which sucked air back in from another direction, including the smoke there.

I stopped in my tracks, sitting back down. Cursing internally. I’m not thinking straight. Should have been obvious this wouldn’t work. I mean this was physics 101, my crickets and lemon. The soul fractal I’d etched earlier on the side panel remained clear and bright to my senses.

Cathida was blessedly silent here.

I stayed for another two minutes, staring out into the wireframe darkness around me. And then realized a keypoint: I’d be back in the digital sea at some point. It was too important to forever leave behind. Tsuya might have barred the Deathless from walking inside just from a statistics point of view, because she would rather they fail a few missions here and there, than to actually die for good. But I was absolutely going to do more in the digital sea at some point.

I had to learn one way or another.

I just really, really didn't want to and I could feel my head throwing every possible reason to avoid it.

"Come on Keith." I hissed to myself. "Father can stare death down like it was just another day. You can to."

"Tenisent isn't human." Cathida said. "And I'd have said that back when he was human. The man's built different. I wouldn't compare yourself to him, can't be healthy."

"...are you trying to piss me off?" I asked.

"And what if I am? You gonna prove me and him wrong? Don't try to power though things like he does, do it how you do most things in life."

"And that would be?"

"Spite and pettiness" She laughed. "Get angry. Swim in it until it's stronger than your fear."

I... wanted to tell her that was a stupid idea and her help was terrible, I could do it another way, and then go on to do it another way just to show her up. Except that was proving exactly her point about the power of spite.

The soul fractal was right down there. And I could tell I was getting frustrated at myself for how stuck in the snow I was with all this. It's a soul fractal, and a tiny little terminal on the other side. I could do this. I've been doing this the whole time. I just had to not be stupid about things when I did do it.

Stick to the terminal, don't touch the digital sea, don't leave an airlock door unsealed in a windstorm. Small steps, and make sure no other entity out there could catch me by surprise.

I took a breath, focused on my inner bubbling rage at the whole situation, then put a hand on the terminal.

------

I was in an airspeeder.

No really, the architecture and surroundings of this terminal looked like the interior of a golden era ship of some kind. A lot more clean and less grimy than the interiors of an airspeeder, but still the same general idea. I don’t know if the terminal itself looks that way, or if it was just my own thoughts and prejudices collapsing the nebulous occult into something manifested.

Either way it looked like a bog-standard airspeeder.

My first action was to check in on my soul, verify there wasn’t anything stamped there still. Nothing looked out of place. Second, I shot my attention around my local area, probing for any signs of data leaking away from me to alert anyone. Nothing I could find there.

So far safe. Nothing was in this small room except for me and a cloud of programs nearby. Small, shining silver like tiny fish, swimming in one giant school around the room in a circle.

I took a few steps, and was immediately surrounded by them, all scanning me for identity and figuring out if I was allowed here or not. Sending each other messages, and data packages back outside for confirmation with the main terminal’s blueprints.

They very quickly came to the conclusion I wasn’t allowed here.

And then made the inspired decision to try and shoo me away, with force. Bad idea on their part.

Occult crackled around me as I tapped into the shockwave fractals on Journey’s replica armor that my mind had faithfully conjured up around me. The occult pulsed out and chased the cloud of bots out of the way. It gave me a bit of breathing room to adjust, and plan out how I’ll keep this cloud of intrusion countermeasure programs off my back while I get to work.

“All right.” I said to myself. “So far so good, successful insertion. Just take it nice and slow, practice stealth.”

“And there he is." A woman’s voice said behind me. "I was wondering when you'd pop up again, but what a neat place you picked for it. Real smart choice."

I certainly did not scream in fear or panic when I drew my blades out and twisted to face my stalker.

Occult crackled into the hazy digital realm, the edge outlining my blade as I kept it aimed at my assailant behind me.

It was a woman. Sitting on a box, one leg folded over the other. Tan skin, glowing blue eyes and snow white hair from what I could see under her hood. The armor she wore wasn’t relic armor, but more a skintight black utility suit filled with straps, buckles and pockets. And more importantly, her voice wasn’t similar or at all close to Relinquished. Small mercy there. Relinquished had a voice I couldn’t forget.

“Whoa, whoa, relax.” The other intruder said, waving one hand at me. “I’m not here to hurt you, swear on my honor. No need to be so jumpy.”

She wasn’t here before. I knew that for certain. Absolutely certain. The fish-programs nearby all turned their attention to her for a half second before freezing in the air, as if time had stopped running for them all, so they also hadn’t noticed her appearing here until I had.

Discipline quickly followed behind, masking my current shock and I took control over the situation as best I could. “That… would be nice if I knew who you were or how trustworthy that honor is? Miss… ?”

“Hmm, names are a little fickle, and you see I’m a bit of a wanted criminal around these parts.” She hummed, closing her eyes and looking up. “You can call me Aztu. Aztu-tu would work better, but that sounds too silly, so Aztu instead. And you’re Keith Winterscar, in the flesh. Soul-wise speaking. I’ve been meaning to meet you at some point, finally got a good excuse now.”

She knew my name, and I didn't know hers. There was a problem here. “I’ve got a lot of questions, I’m sure you’ll understand.” I said carefully, checking my connection with the soul fractal and making sure I could step right back out. Only reason I hadn’t already outright ran for my life here was that she hadn’t tried to outright attack me just yet. But usually people who knew my name without me knowing theirs had a grudge to pick with me.

She waved a hand at me, as if telling me to go. “Please, feel free, we got time. Can’t promise I’ll answer all of them, wanted criminal and all that. But I can tell you a few things first so you don’t get super side-tracked here.” She tapped her chest, “First, not part of team Relinquished. And second, she’s not aware this terminal exists. I only found it because I know how to cheat.”

She looked on at me, mentally giving me the go-ahead.

“I have slightly less questions.” I said. “Good start so far though.”

She chuckled, then uncrossed her legs and swapped them before leaning backwards to the wall, hands equally crossed behind her head and hood, elbows up. “Well, go on. Been a while since I talked to a human, rather missed that. Get the rest off your chest.”

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“Who exactly are you? And how did you arrive here?” I started. My blade was still pointed right at her, occult edge alive and well, and she didn’t seem at all disturbed by that. Which scared me deeply because it meant she didn’t see it as any kind of threat.

“Can’t tell you who I am exactly-”

“The whole criminal thing?” I cut in, getting the gist of her.

“Got it in one.”

“Are the charges fraudulent?”

“Oh not at all, guilty on all charges. I've got a lot of regrets in my long life, but the crimes I'm accused of are things I'm most proud of.” The woman gave me a cheery grin. “You’re also technically following in my footsteps here, it’s nice to have a fellow criminal to chat to.”

“Lady, I still think you should explain a little more. I do have a sword pointed at you, and digital or not, occult is occult.”

“Please, do you really stab strangers usually?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” I said. She looked at me with a confused eyebrow, so I added some more detail for her. “Fifty percent of the time, it works out. Usually. I am known as a dirty surface savage depending on who you ask.”

“And the other fifty percent of the time?”

“A mix of more stabbing and screaming.”

She nodded, “A little violent for my tastes. I'm mostly retired these days, mostly. But, retired doesn't mean defenseless. I can guarantee that stabbing me is not going to end well for anyone. I’ll have to pin you down, slap you around a bit, and it’s going to be really awkward to talk later. So I’d prefer we skip that step?”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Unknown potentially hostile entity wants to talk. Good enough start, and I really didn't want to pick fights in a domain I wasn't comfortable lurking in yet. “I’d be fine with that, but I think you’ll understand why I’m not lowering my sword anytime soon, Miss clearly-not-Aztu. Again, how did you even find me? And why me in specific? You know my name, I assume you’ve been watching me somehow?”

“This terminal's stealth programs are top-notch, high marks for picking a place like this to pop up in. Didn't even notice how many terminals are on this strata until just now. But you don’t know how to hide your occult tracks yet. And I just so happen to be looking for any signs of either pings or occult waves.” She said, flashing a quick two thumbs up at me. “For your other question, I have been watching you in the past. And it's not like that, trust me. Whatever Relinquished is paying attention to, I tend to keep an eye on just to be safe. Part of being a, well, you know.” She mouthed out the words ‘criminal’ then gave a wink.

All right, let’s pool all the evidence together: White hair, knows Relinquished, glowing eyes, sitting inside the digital sea where only machines typically hang out around - all signs point to one possible conclusion: “You’re a Feather of some kind, and I trust you as much as I’d trust a spinning temperature dial.”

Aztu pouted. “How did you guess?”

“Only a Feather is this dramatic about anything.” I said. “So, which team are you working for? No team except your own? To’Sefit? To’Avalis? Or are you the current owner of these lands and us running around had you wake up?”

I kept a good eye on my soul fractal and made sure I was ready to disengage and run. My odds of killing a Feather were a lot higher outside the digital sea than in it.

“Don’t you mean ‘To’Aacar’?” She said, giving the name two quotes with her fingers. “Technically speaking. Gotta keep appearances going you know? I thought you and little To’Wrathh had that sorted.”

“Lady, I’m not afraid to cut this channel short and run for my life. If you’re trying to talk to me here, it means you can’t make it in person yourself yet. If I step away, who knows when the next time we’ll get to chat. I'm not dense.”

She sighed, hands unwrapping from her head and going down to her knees, to help her hop off the crate. “Fine. Fine, no need to be such a sourpuss about it.”

Height wise, she was tiny - for a Feather. Barely under six feet. She slapped both her hands free of dust and whatever floats in the digital sea, then locked eyes with me again. “I’ll put it this way, I work with Abraxas. We’re colleagues if you will, and old friends.”

That complicates things. Greatly. But it also meant this Feather really could be on no-one's team. Had to investigate, first to confirm if she really does know him. “I’m only temporarily delayed down here, he didn’t need to send a henchman after me or anything." I started, "Also, could he not have sent a letter or a friendly text if he’s upset with me?”

“If you know him as long as I have, you’d know he’s never not upset about something.” She rolled her eyes at that, as if we were both having a bit of office gossip about the Logi’s. “But no, let’s keep the meeting here a secret between us, eh? I don’t want him yelling at me anymore than you want him yelling at you.”

"Can you tell me how he looks like, just to make sure we're talking about the same bot?"

She put a finger on her chin. "That's a trick question, he's always under his invisibility cloak. I doubt you know how he looks. But I can tell you he has six arms, and is an old screamer model made near the start of the machine war with humanity. Also he's a mitespeaker. His lantern is on a staff, that he uses to row his boat. Very, very few machines are mitespeakers, that's generally a human only thing."

I didn't know he was a mitespeaker, or that machines could be mitespeakers, and for a lantern to be something significant enough to mention. Point is, she really did know the sulking toaster hiding on his rowboat. And that meant she could not possibly be part of team Feather or Relinquished, since if any of them even knew Abraxas existed, Relinquished would know and would come looking to murder.

“You really are a wanted criminal to the machines, aren't you?” I said, more out of shock that turned out somewhat true so far. "Are you actually a Feather at all or some kind of other program?"

“Oh, not just any wanted criminal." Aztu chuckled. "Probably among the top two most wanted. Relinquished really has a bone to pick with little old me.”

This wasn't just idle information, she was telling me something important. And my head went through the logic at mach twelve: A Feather, who’s among the most wanted criminal to Relinquished. Among the top two. Knows old names like Abraxas, and knows him well enough to claim being good friends.

Holy scrapshit raining from above, I’m in the room with a dead legend. One of only two marked missing. “You’re a pro-”

Aztu bolted forward faster than I could react, and had one finger pressed on my lips. “Shhh, don’t say the P-word. Nothing's going to happen here where I’ve got a vice grip over this terminal, but it’s still not a good habit to make. Mother dearest does have some basic scans for any mentions of the P-word outside in some zones. Names do have some power in this realm.”

The woman stepped back slowly, giving me time to realize how dumb I was holding a sword directly at her face when she’d literally moved faster than I could react. If anything here went wrong, my options were to run, and run faster. I slowly lowered the blade and turned it off.

I was speaking to a protofeather. The protofeathers, the original Feathers that fought Relinquished. That worked with Tsuya for the division stone. And who were completely free of Relinquished.

"How are you even here? I thought your kind all died off or went missing?"

She gave a sad smile. "You're not wrong in a way. I'm basically all that's left and I only exist in the digital sea. "

For a protofeather that fought against Relinquished seven hundred years ago and survived all this time, I expected someone more serious. A war veteran or someone similar to Father.

Aztu took a step back, then twirled in a lazy circle before throwing her arms wide as if she had an entire audience clapping for her. She finished with an exaggerated bow, "Sorry to disappoint, but my shell's been destroyed. And has been for the past seven hundred years now. I'm a single soul fractal still holding the echo of myself. It's absolutely nowhere near my full power."

"I don't think I understand, nanoswarms can make anything. Seven hundred years is plenty enough time to remake a body?"

"Nanswarms command nodes can only be made by mites, and they'll give you what you pay for. One that has the permissions to generate the parts needed for my chassis is... expensive." She shrugged. "At this point, we've all long since given up."

"You could just build or steal a regular Feather's shell I think? Sure, it won't be as strong as your original, but a body is a body?"

"Modern Feathers don't use half the exotic materials needed for mine." Aztu shook her head slowly. "If I want to be me, I have to inhabit a body that would have generated and supported me. I'm already fragile as just an echo, without hardware to reinforce who I am, I have to be very careful."

Had to inhabit a body that would have been natural to their souls? "To'Avalis is doing just fine in To'Aacar's shell last I heard."

Aztu laughed, "Maybe an analogy will help more: If you get a new heart from someone else, chance are your body might see it as an intruder and attack it. That's what's going to happen to him real soon, he's the new heart. But that'll be his problem to deal with." She shrugged. "Next time Wrath heals someone, pay more attention to how her soul regenerates. That regeneration isn't derived from nowhere. The machine's hardware causes the soul to appear, not the other way around."

“Wrath." I said, slapping my head. I'd been so wrapped up talking to the protofeather, I forgot the one person who'd absolutely go nuts to find Aztu. "I have to find a way for you to meet Wrath.”

Aztu's eyes seemed to light up at that, “I would absolutely love to meet my granddaughter, but it’s not safe until the unity fractal and a few viral hooks in her software are patched out. Abraxas is leading you there, once you’ve used the division stone, we can all sit down and openly talk.”

“Hold on, granddaughter? Wrath - To'Wrathh is your granddaughter?” That… didn’t make any sense at all. Wrath was a spider. A very angry and greedy spider that later turned a page and grew past it. The angry part. She's still just as greedy, just about different things now.

“Spiritually speaking.” Aztu said, hands crossed across her chest now. “Feathers don’t have kids, don’t be silly Keith.” She tapped her collarbone a few times with one finger, “We’re made to look human but on the inside we’re still machines. To’Wrathh is just the first Feather since our time that turned on Relinquished. She's already evolved to accept new names, like your little nickname for her, and started modifying her chassis internally - both things regular Feathers can't do. Think that classifies her as my inheritor... But granddaughter sounds more adorable, so I’m going to use that.”

That final message was said rapidly and without a single breath.

“I think Wrath would be happy to have a grandmother? Why are you meeting with me instead of connecting with her through a proxy of some kind?”

Aztu sighed deeply here. “You are the proxy. As much as I hate to agree with Abraxas on anything security-wise, you can’t tell her about me unfortunately. Unity fractal and all that. Same reason Abraxas doesn’t talk to her, even though she’s the one the mites sent him to guide. You’ve proved time and time again that you’ll take secrets with you to the grave if need be. You deserve a little trust, I think.”

“But it’s not just Wrath you’re supposed to hide from. You mentioned earlier not to tell Abraxas about us meeting right now.” I gave her a look, “I take it he doesn’t want you contacting me at all too?”

“Expressiedly,” She nodded a few times. “With extreme detail. Mentioned both your name and To’Wrathh’s name. Three times over, in writing. Only he gets to contact you, and nobody else. Unfortunately for him, well, criminal." She tapped her cheek with each word. "Scoundrel. General annoyance. I could go on. A few hundred years of having to find my own fun tends to add up. ”

“You know, if you hadn’t scared the absolute shit out of me with this kind of entrance, I think we’d have been fast friends.”

She laughed, “Oh, I’m a lot worse than that. Relinquished and I share exactly one point of data, and that’s that we both love a good story. I had been keeping up with your progress, but you vanished off the face of the world for a while. Only found you when you sent a ping out. And someone else got to you first. And if I had to defend my actions, all this is 'field intelligence' because Relinquished acted in a different way for the first time in years. ”

“I noticed. Trust me, not my favorite moment. Does she have any way to track me right now? I'm guessing not if you're here.”

She waved a hand, "Not possible to track an occult echo. You're not a program, you only appear like one. But she did leave you alive for some reason. And this is the part of the field research that I came to do: I need to know what she’s told you, so I can gauge what’s actually going on. Like mentioned before, not her normal M.O. to drag in a single human for an audience at her throne room. And whenever she’s doing something different than we’re used to, that’s a very bad sign.”

“She did tell me the same.” I said, “That said, you do know I’m a Winterscar. If you’ve been keeping an eye on me for this long, you know what I’m going to ask next when asked to share anything for free.”

Aztu laughed, “Well, I just so happen to have something to trade for the info I want. You need to be taught a bit on how to navigate the digital sea safely. And I’m a bit of an expert on that. Not to brag or anything, but I’ve escaped Mother’s notice for seven hundred years and counting now in her own domain. Only Abraxas and his kin could boast about hiding from her for longer." She leaned forward, smiling. "So, want to trade? I teach you a few tricks, you tell me how the meeting with Mother went, and why you’re still alive. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Everyone’s happy except for Abraxas, but he doesn’t need to know about this yet.”

“Deal.” I said. “But I want to know more about Relinquished herself first. And I’m also on a bit of a timeline here, I need to connect with someone from this terminal, before a few more guests arrive in my physical location.”

There was a small army of Odin led by Septimus on approach here.

“Trying to send a message to little To’Wrathh again?” She asked, turning to the fake airlock and waving at me to follow her. “You might have to do that from a mite terminal, any other would be intercepted no matter how hidden it starts out as, so doing anything from this terminal isn’t the best idea. I can still lead you to the comms sections in the meantime though, start teaching you a few things about navigating occult manifestations like this. And what’d you wanna know about Mother dearest?”

I paused a little in my tracks. “Are you aware of the Icon of Stars?” I asked.

Aztu tilted her head. “Is that a location of interest in this strata?”

“...How much have you been watching of everything going on?”

The protofeather crossed her arms again, as if upset I’d questioned her intelligence gathering abilities. Which I had, indirectly. “I was there when Abraxas was contacting you and sending you his map and plan of how to lead you around. I helped find half the shortcuts on it over the years. I even got to see his missive directly from the mites that kick started the whole thing. “Thou shalt guide a betrayer to trap a goddess.” Lot of discussion and debate back home about that one until Tsyua came making demands to have it followed. But of course, we haven’t heard a single peep from the mites since that order was sent to him.”

“Okay, good to know, that puts some things in perspective.” I slowly said. “Do you happen to know anything about this strata in specific?”

She shrugged. “First time here personally. The world is really, really big Keith. And the digital sea is far bigger. I couldn’t find you myself when you’d vanished, and I already knew to start looking for mite portals as a hint. Until you sent a ping out to reach To’Wrathh with your coordinates, you were undiscoverable.”

I pondered on how much to tell her about the Icon. I think she noticed my silence, because she furrowed her brows downwards, “Why do you ask?" She said, suspicious. "I know To’Orda’s down here also looking for you, and I know the Feather that owns this strata is out hunting a Deathless fireteam with his entire army behind him for the task. I’m very aware of machine communications, only thing I don’t have access to is their actual internal logs between one another. Is there something I missed?”

“In a manner of speaking…”