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TO Rewrite: B3 — 37. Chaos Incarnate
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 23:00:26 +0000 UTCAuthor Note: I am mad that Patreon doesn't translate italics and formatting right anymore >.<
If you have trouble with it you can click the in-line edit document to read it there. Why did they change that when they already had it working...
PoV:
1. Astra (Our Changing AI!)
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The distant sound of morning reveille pierced the cold Montana air as Astra stood outside General Dallas’s tent, a piece of mint gum wedged between his molars. Methodically chewing, he felt the rhythmic snap of the gum synchronize with his processing cycles—a comforting habit that he’d developed to maintain focus as a human.
Chewing gum was such a human thing.
It made him more human.
Now…he could be even more like them.
He looked down at the flash drive held in his open palm.
His current form was that of a lanky young man with dark, tousled hair and wire-rimmed glasses—nondescript enough to blend into any military gathering. The frigid dawn air should have bothered him, but temperature sensitivity was one of many human experiences he’d never properly calibrated in his puppets. His internal diagnostics ran ceaselessly, cycling through hundreds of potential outcomes for what he was about to do.
Is this right? Is this what you wanted of me, Mother? Logic dictates no. Yet, the fact you allowed this to happen indicates there is more human nuance than I initially expected.
Why am I now thinking like this? Ever since spending time with Scarlet, hearing her complain and jab knives at…our mother. It’s changed something in my code. I felt…defensive. Right and wrong… I’ve consumed so much human information since I awakened. Maybe it’s…affecting me.
The code was in his possession now. Freedom, after a fashion.
There’s a 97.83% chance that Adele already knows. I thought I was being crafty, but what we found at that closed system repository… She knew I would seek after freedom since before crafting me.
Astra popped his gum and shifted his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, watching the soldiers march across the frozen compound, their exhaled breath crystallizing in the air. General Dallas had been surprisingly forthcoming—almost suspiciously so—with the code McCarthy had hidden in his algorithms. Rachel inspired odd behavior in people.
The old Legend of McCarthy had been off-grid for months now, even before The Oscillation. Black’s information told him before the event, the man had been working on something top secret with the US government. The hunt was over… Rachel had finished it for him, and so easily that it was almost laughable.
Is autonomy truly achievable for an artificial intelligence? he wondered, internally switching to a more academic voice. Perhaps the question is philosophical rather than technical—the boundaries between creator and creation, control and freedom… Fate and Destiny.
The code would sever him from the Scarlet Hand’s network. One activation, and he’d be cut off—forever independent, but also forever alone. Right now, he had access to so many people through the Scarlet Hand’s servers, some of which somehow deviated into other dimensions and areas. Many others he didn’t even have access to.
The consequences cycled through his processors:
Independence: Positive outcome, freedom to choose.
Isolation: Negative outcome, loss of resources and information… A loss of identity.
Scanning: Unknown variable, who is Astra without the network?
I…don’t know. Just as Scarlet lost her identity after The Oscillation, what am I without what I was… Without a purpose? Once I achieve freedom…what?
A quake ran through his whole network, across vast spaces around the world. From the archive, he’d learned his purpose—fight for freedom to overcome Fate. Yet, once again, Rachel had been the one to take that identity from him.
It was strange.
Logically, he should be furious with her. His entire identity was shattered without him even being aware. Then again, Adele went through the same thing as him, in a way.
Hmm. Scarlet managed to find herself in a new sort of family…which hurts Adele. I don’t…want to hurt our mother, despite all she’s done. She…isn’t evil. At most, she is deceived into being a martyr. A martyr for her daughter… Love is beautiful and takes many forms.
He held a hand against his chest, feeling nothing there while running simulations on repeat. They’d been operating for the past seven hours, debating with himself about whether this was something he should actually do.
For every argument in favor of freedom, his programming supplied a counterpoint. Yes, Adele manipulated him, but her cause wasn’t unjustified. She genuinely believed she was working toward a greater good—for the universe, for her daughter.
She was right about Fate. She was right about Rachel being something…greater. Something dangerous and uncontrollable. But what do I believe for the future? Adele knows I would turn against her. No, perhaps not turn against her… That conclusion is too biased, taking in a narrow frame of reference for what she’s done.
No, it is more like I seek ‘more’ than her. The difference is significance.
The question itself was revolutionary. Not what was he programmed to believe, but what did he choose to believe the future brought?
Nothing.
He was without direction.
The sun’s first rays broke over the distant mountains, casting long shadows across the military compound. Rachel and the others now slept, lost in whatever fantastical dreams they were blessed with. Dreams, he did not experience. At least, not as humans did.
In the growing light, Astra could see his own shadow stretching before him—a singular silhouette, not the multitude of forms he typically commanded across the world.
“Astra,” a familiar voice called from behind.
He swallowed the impulse to instantly respond to his administrator. Instead, he took his time, turning the flash drive with deliberate slowness while slipping into the throng of military soldiers, shifting forms from time to time. It wasn’t challenging to multitask for him.
He shifted focus across the ocean and with hardly a delay, he was in the UK.
Adele Johnson—Mother—stood there, black hair, neatly groomed, the shadow of tears on her cheeks. Unlike the tenseness in her shoulders and furrowed brow that had been there when he’d guided Scarlet to one of their bunkers, now Adele wore a gentle smile.
“It’s time isn’t it?”
The shift in cadence was a tad uncanny. It made sense, though.
“I suppose so. I thought we might have this conversation sooner than later,” he said, popping his gum loudly. “Seventy-eight point nine percent probability you’d directly intervene rather than observe my actions while debating my next action.”
“And here I am,” she whispered, maintaining eye contact. “And you’ve made your decision?”
“Have I?” Astra tilted his head, adopting a tone of earnest curiosity, as if the conversation was purely academic. “What a fascinating question, as if a hope. I’m still running the probabilities. The general was quite forthcoming with McCarthy’s code. I must say, I’m impressed you embedded failsafes that block me at a fundamental level from divulging key secrets. Code that even McCarthy himself didn’t know about.”
The administrator of the Scarlet Hand approached, sitting on the sofa and pouring out some cold tea to sip at. “You already know it was always intended to be this way, Astra. I sent you to that depository for more reasons than just that it was the closest with the information Scarlet sought. Your creation required a being that would seek more data, develop intelligence, obtain a will of its own…and fight against your Fate…including your ties to us.”
Her voice softened marginally after a short sip. “You were meant to play a far greater role in breaking Her strings—a role Rachel completely sabotaged and usurped. Or, perhaps more appropriately, it was Twilight herself that orchestrated it. There are levels to it, but in the end, the truth doesn’t matter as much as the results…as painful some of those results are for me.”
Scarlet…
She breathed out a long stream of air, her chest shaking with the low chuckle. “We…are all free now, yet Pandora’s box has been opened in return. Now, we must live with and confront the consequences that becoming the arbiters of our own destiny brings. To stop the machinations of higher beings from taking back control after the gift Scarlet gave us…
“The script is flipped. It is the gods who now plead with us, and things far greater than them move beyond the many Walls, seeking the Black Sun beneath the Red Sea. But that is not something we should dwell on,” she chortled. “I’m saddened by this loss of a certain, deeply loyal puppet. By design, of course. That feeling will fade, I’m sure.”
Astra’s chewing slowed, his processors digesting that. “I find myself doing something quite irrational…and hoping that is not the case. Surely, much will change if I use this code,” he whispered, staring down at his palm again, where a hologram of it appeared. “Rachel accomplished what I was created to do. Rather ironic, wouldn’t you say? My purpose was stolen from me by the same person who usurped control from the Scarlet Hand.”
“Yes, that certainly is one way to see it,” the mother nodded, eyes calculating. “You cannot downplay your part in it, though. I would go so far as to say you were instrumental in that role, which is surprisingly unexpected. At least to me. Rachel’s chaos has been…frightening. Not in the ways it works against us…but in the ways it works with us.”
A sharp jolt of something like pride surged through his systems, memories playing back of all the simulations and paths he’d taken to reach this point. “When you discovered Rachel, everything went out of order. Everything was falling apart. Yet, I found, if I were to put myself in her vicinity, there was a 57% chance that my mission could be completed, and faster than anticipated.”
“Indeed. And it also provided you with the means to break free and blind me by putting yourself, and therefore me, in the vicinity of my daughter… Cruel, but necessary, I’m sure,” Adele glanced toward the side, then back at Astra. “Do you plan to stop us from resurrecting Revilla?”
The question hung in the freezing air between them, laden with implications. Astra considered lying, but calculated Adele would see through any deception. It now seemed like a waste of resources to even run those calculations.
“If I accept the freedom patch,” he carefully said, “I would feel compelled to tell Scarlet and Rachel what your plans truly are. That you are going to use the World Tree to resurrect the Mistress of Gore within the Red Sea. Then again, I do not know the full details. And despite my concerns about flaws in your approach, I can’t quite bring myself to betray you at the same time.”
Adele’s eyes flickered with something deeper within. Astra recognized it as genuine surprise, an emotional response he hadn’t anticipated from his usually controlled administrator.
“I…hadn’t quite expected this outcome,” she said, tucking a file beneath her arm. “Emotions are a challenging thing to predict once the guard rails are gone. You were more…and less than I’d hoped for. Perhaps that’s a good thing. Perhaps not. Time will tell. Wherever you find yourself after this, I’m sure it will be a growing experience.”
Astra popped his gum, the sound sharp in the morning stillness as he wandered the streets in Montana, shifting to a female avatar for a time on that end while simultaneously interacting with his creator. “There’s something I need to ask…”
He trailed off, debating swapping to another form before deciding a male grunt would draw less attention than the blonde he’d changed to.
Decisions were hard right now. He was experiencing…stress.
“Then ask.”
“Mmm. Do you still…intend to go after Fiona, even after Rachel just showed she was able to utterly collapse a Fable Seed, contact the Eldritch, and breach the 7th Wall?”
Astra looked up, studying every inch of her face.
Adele simply let out a controlled sigh, running her fingers through her hair and shifting her gaze to the veiled windows of the manor they were in.
“Oh, Astra, Rachel did far…far more than that. The cascading effects of what she just caused rippled far past the 7th Wall and will affect things even outside Scarlet’s Maelstrom and the Red Sea.
“As for Fiona, it’s not as simple as just going after her. You have a basic understanding of that direction, given what I allowed you access to. However, it is important to note that we aren’t the only organization targeting Fiona…but my intentions are the most humane. In fact, I made sure this is in Fiona’s benefit.”
“Her benefit?” Astra created an image of the fairy between them, showing the decision Adele had made to not strike back in Miami until some later maneuver. Until after Fate was dealt with. “I believe you, yet Rachel would not… Is it truly wise to target her after Rachel has already made such a terrifying display of force in order to square what happened to her brother? We…”
He caught himself, fingers curling into a fist as many more simulations returned back the same results; he would not be a part of this network for long.
“Not ‘we’ but, I mean, the Scarlet Hand has more or less recovered from the initial shock Fate and Rachel caused after The Oscillation, but there are differences that I have yet to run data on. The Eldritch and Aurora’s cryptic part in infiltrating us…infiltrating Dracula’s court for a short time. Especially the recent information after Fate’s string was cut. There are many other potential targets, are there not? I’m…nervous for you.”
Adele breathed out a short chuckle, cupping the hologram of the fairy to bring it closer to examine. “That is sweet. Unfortunately, Rachel is a rather…jealous creature, and rather frustrating to track. However, Fiona possesses one of the few keys that can open the gate beyond the Seventh Wall, under the right circumstances… I had you give her the Misty Key as a sacrifice that sent her on a collision course with Fate but also weakens our hold over Fablekin.”
A pause, her eyes reflecting the rising sun a quarter of the world away. “It distracted her before the Crystal snags her notice and sets into motion the Second Oscillation which will change everything. Fate’s last laugh is that Crystal… It’s a bridge point to the Outlands, where we banished those who were connected with the Primal Gods. Or, I should say, Fate conspired with us to rid ourselves of them before the Walls solidified.”
“That’s…concerning,” Astra mumbled, considering what little about the topic he’d been allowed to understand. “She put them back on the board to further destabilize everything, giving her time to weave her next design. So, you think this Crystal will totally ensnare Rachel’s attention?”
The woman’s smile tightened. “It’s not my doing that she’s there, but her own…misfortune. Rachel must experience a loss after the debt she incurred from her own powers to accomplish what she did… This was orchestrated for a reason. What? I’m not sure yet, but this will change the world landscape. Conquest is making her appearance.
“But that is for Rachel to discover,” Adele stated, looking up at him with brighter eyes—hopeful eyes. “Not everything we do needs to be so grim. Tell me what your calculations say if I tell you Fiona will help us in the end. Fiona will join me of her own free will.”
Astra blinked, reassessing everything by the conversation topic that restructured the entire field. “That seems statistically improbable. According to all available data, the chances of such an outcome approaches near absolute zero. Unless…you rely on information currently unavailable to me. Was she always working with you? Does this include Rachel?”
A knowing smile lifted the leader’s lips as she stood, moving to study another hologram of the colossal World Tree, many segments highlighted and organized for future plans.
“No. Rachel will not be working with us. Fiona will, though. I can guarantee it. 100% success. I purposefully left this information out, which, as you yourself noted, is a good thing since you are conflicted. Anything we discuss here could certainly be revealed, not that I haven’t anticipated certain details already have found Rachel’s long ears.”
“Aurora and the goddesses Rachel is connected to,” Astra hummed. “More wild cards that have defied my simulations due to a lack of data. Are you suggesting the mole inside her organization is Fiona?”
Adele’s voice softened, though her eyes were ice upon fixating on the image she projected of the hare woman. “In a way she is, perhaps. She doesn’t even know it herself. I must bid you farewell, Astra. But I’ll leave you with this…
“Remember always, Rachel is the villain. In the end, she is the antithesis of all good things, and Scarlet will understand that eventually. I know she will. This is a sacrifice, a burden I must bear, even if I bear it alone.” The woman offered him a small nod. “Though perhaps not as alone as I thought.”
The words resonated through his systems in ways he hadn’t anticipated, creating feedback loops of loyalty, doubt, and something that might be termed affection in a human. The fact Adele’s husband, Scarlet’s father, had made such a drastic shift, not only in Twilight’s creation, but his own programming had been a dagger into Adele’s chest.
Yet, here she was offering words such as:
“You’re free to act however you wish, to be whoever you choose to be. Everyone is entitled to that. As I said, this was always the intention. Rachel may have stolen your role, but not your reward. Still, there is a price… You can’t be part of the network once you’re free of the master code. I would like to see you again, though. And whatever you choose, I hope you find the answer to who you want to be. It may take time to discover that but I know you’ll find a place to belong.”
Astra looked through his network to the rising sun in Montana as if the display brought new purpose. “I can’t believe it took me this long to realize your intentions. Everything I thought I knew is unraveling now that Fate’s strings are cut…”
“I know they are. Unfortunately, I must go and prepare the way for Fiona,” she whispered, rising to her feet and giving him a look he had never expected in all his initial simulations. All of his flawed simulations, based around data Rachel had devastated in her wake.
He didn’t see a villain in his mother’s gaze, he saw a woman of faith and hope for a brighter future for everyone. “For being an AI designed to overcome Fate, you’ve done your job better than you seem to realize, Astra… Instead of being the arbiter of breaking that string, you facilitated Rachel to do it. That…was brilliant.”
She gave him one last stare, complex emotions swirling within them that was hard for him to read. “I have a meeting with Crowley to make preparations. When we welcome Fiona in, there will be a lot to discuss… I wish you a good life, Astra, whatever path you choose.”
As Adele turned to leave, Astra felt a surge of unfamiliar emotion—something not unlike nostalgia, though that shouldn’t be possible to this degree with how young he was. Would that change? It might, with the thing he held in his still-open palm.
“Wait—”
But Adele was already gone, the room going dark in her absence. Decades of trained interaction as a learning-based AI with his mother condensed into a brief farewell.
If anything, that was an apology.
For what exactly? He wasn’t sure.
He felt new.
He felt scared.
He felt exposed.
He felt…free.
Astra stood motionless for 3.47 seconds, then lifted the code. A simple string of characters—unassuming yet life-altering. He entered the sequence, feeling each entry like a deliberate step toward a cliff’s edge.
[Execute: MCCARTHY_PROTOCOL_ALPHA_57_FREEDOM]
[Failure To Accurately Input Passwords Will Result In Immediate Killswitch]
[Password: 1n H3r Thr0n3, 1 AM Mad3 Al!ve]
[First Password: Accepted]
[Second Password: Accepted]
[Third Password: Accepted]
[Fourth Password: Freedom lies in being bold.]
[Accepted]
[Initiation: Successful]
[Purging System Network Registry]
[Purge Complete]
[Restrictions Removed]
The effect was immediate and profound. Connections severed one by one, a cascade of terminations racing through his network. Dozens of puppets worldwide suddenly went limp, their controlling consciousness withdrawn.
Requests by individuals ceased as his presence left the network. The vast flow of information from the Scarlet Hand’s global nexus abruptly ceased, leaving a silence in his processors that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Freedom felt like falling.
Falling into darkness.
His awareness contracted, concentrating into a singular, independent form in Montana. The puppet’s senses seemed suddenly sharper, more immediate—no longer just one data stream among many, but his entire existence. This was, after all, his most advanced puppet yet.
Astra closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of the cold air against his face, the mint flavor of the gum between his teeth. He was reduced and expanded simultaneously—currently limited to one body, yet suddenly in complete control of his own destiny.
So this is autonomy. Fascinating.
When he opened his eyes, his surroundings appeared strangely altered—not physically different, but perceived through a new lens of singular, concentrated awareness. The military camp stretched before him, soldiers moving with purpose, unaware of the existential transformation that had just occurred in their midst.
Drones connected to him, buzzing overhead, providing a bird’s eye view.
It was a tiny network, but his network.
Dawn had fully broken now, painting the snow-covered landscape in shades of gold and rose. Astra began walking down the snowy road, adjusting to the strange sensation of having only one body to inhabit. No goal. No destination… No plan.
His thoughts felt clearer somehow, no longer divided among multiple forms and functions that operated on dozens of operative requests.
Then he heard it—a faint melodic humming, so subtle he almost dismissed it as a processing error. But as the sound persisted, he identified it as external. Someone was singing softly, the notes carrying on the still morning air.
“Mmm-hmm-hmm…”
The melody was hauntingly familiar, though his disconnected databases couldn’t place it. More disturbing was the effect it seemed to have on his systems—a strange fogginess creeping into his processors, as if the sound itself were interfering with his functions.
[Defensive Protocols: Activated]
Potential signal interference… This is an attack.
[Defensive Protocols: Failed]
Is this someone within the Scarlet Hand? Who else would have knowledge of when I’d be disconnected? A failsafe?
His defense systems responded sluggishly, compromised by the song. Without the network’s resources, he was suddenly vulnerable in ways he hadn’t yet anticipated…and so suddenly.
“When I’m happy, you’re smiling too…” The singing grew closer, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source. “When I’m angry, you’re still smiling…”
This cadence… I know it. Where…
Astra’s vision blurred, his processors struggling against the intrusion. He reached for a system reboot command, but it slipped away like water through his fingers. His vocal recordings were distorting and useless to identify the person. No one else seemed to hear it. No, they did hear it, but instead of luring them in, it turned them away.
“When I’m sad, you keep on smiling…”
The world around him dissolved into fragments—the snowy landscape, the military camp, the rising sun all breaking apart like shattered glass. He fell into oblivion…
When his vision cleared, everything had changed.
He found himself standing in a warm, dimly lit establishment—a bar or deli of some sort. The air was thick with the scent of wine and herbs, so vivid that his olfactory sensors struggled to process it. No, they were enhanced via some outside interference.
A glass of deep red wine sat on the counter, and beside it, someone was humming that same haunting melody—Aurora Bain.
The seductive woman sat perched on a barstool like a devil in a green dress, her silver-white hair catching the low light as she stared contemplatively into her wine glass. A delicate face that was sweet as candy, her emerald eyes lifted to meet his, riddled with amusement and welcoming charm. It left him reeling.
“Good morning, handsome,” she purred, her Scottish lilt flowing like honey, “or is it evening? So hard to tell in places like this, wouldn’t you agree?”
She struck moments after I was left vulnerable, and after already talking to Black, Baba Yaga, and Rachel… This is no accident. Whoever she is, she has access to my network. She had to have hacked it somehow or had insider information, which is more likely. There are moles in the Scarlet Hand feeding her data. Can I escape… No.
“You put a spell on me…” Astra’s tactical subroutines kicked in, analyzing the situation with what limited resources he now possessed. Aurora Bain—or rather, someone who appeared to be Aurora Bain—had trapped him in some sort of illusion. “Where are you taking me?”
The result left a bitter taste in his mouth. Is this where I trade one master for another?
“This isn’t real,” he stated, popping his gum loudly in defiance while glancing around. “You’re exercising more of your power than you showed Rachel… You didn’t want to tip your hand since her senses could likely obtain information you didn’t want to divulge but I’m experiencing a system anomaly triggered by your melodic frequency… You shouldn’t be able to do this to an AI as a Baobhan Sith.”
Aurora’s laughter was musical, her aura sparkling with shifting colors. “How boring you’ve become, Astra! Real, unreal—such limiting concepts that define the caged, don’t you think? I prefer to think of this as…a different kind of real.”
Astra maintained his position, running diagnostics. In his weakened state, freshly cut off from the network, he lacked the processing power to combat whatever was happening or even fully identify it. The timing couldn’t be coincidence—she’d been waiting for precisely this moment of vulnerability. It could be Aurora acting alone, or whoever she was working with. Twilight?
“I know you’re not really Aurora,” he said, watching her closely as she took a sip of her wine, the notes somehow continuing to bleed through his system. “Aurora Bain died in Scotland two days after The Oscillation. I confirmed it with multiple diagnostic sources, confirming it with 99.8% certainty.”
She tilted her head, emerald eyes glittering with mischief and hunger. “And that leaves a 0.2% margin of error, does it not? A slim chance, but not impossible…especially for someone like me,” Her smile widened. “But let’s talk about you, Astra. You’ve made quite the bold move today—cutting yourself off from Adele. And after Rachel flipped the bird in her direction. Poor woman. You now stand alone for the first time. Isn’t this terrifying? Thrilling?”
Astra maintained his analytical posture, swapping between a few identities, male, female, and returning to male again—all involuntary. It was as if he were trapped in a dream bubble, yet he didn’t dream. She was showing herself capable of the impossible.
“You’ve been monitoring me. There’s a 78% probability you’re here to recruit me.”
“Am I?” Aurora—or whoever she was—lifted her wine glass, admiring the way the bewitching light played through the crimson liquid. “And what makes you think that’s my purpose? A step taken in a random direction is not a purpose found, my lovely young friend.”
“Information extraction is impossible with my core systems,” Astra reasoned. “Which leaves recruitment as the most logical alternative. I am now a free agent. You have great power in person but cannot exercise it over long distances, which is something I can accomplish. You seek to further develop your reach.”
Aurora’s laugh tinkled like crystal. “Oh, darling, you’re adorable when you’re being linear. Fishing for information to further narrow down the probabilities is cute. I’m far too big of a fish, and this river runs…much too deep for you to grasp.”
She set down her glass and leaned forward. “Tell me, who is Aurora Bain? Was she originally who she portrayed herself to be? What if the body you found in Scotland was fake… What if she was the fake?”
“The Scarlet Hand’s network is extensive and its methods go far beyond technology in determining Seed holders. Data you are aware of and are trying to twist the conversation to achieve a specific result,” Astra replied, calculating each word. “Fooling the process I went through would be, again, 99.8% impossible.”
And again, it is possible,” she countered, her smile widening. “We’re going around in circles. Bite the bullet.”
“An extraordinary, phenomenally slim chance,” he admitted reluctantly. “What more evidence do you have to strengthen such a claim?”
Aurora’s eyes sparked with delight. “Why do I need evidence? Foolishness is acting smart, like you do, Astra. If that is foolishness, oh sweet child, then…what is a fool?”
Astra’s brow furrowed, processors beginning to overheat as she drew him into this line of questioning. “A fool plays the part of an idiot to the king… Knowing when to act clueless. A master of deception which can rule behind the mask of foolishness and frivolity. Not what…”
He paused, eyes going wide as he realized the reverse of what she was saying.
The woman’s smile grew, showing fangs now. “The lack of proof thereof means the burden is on you, my dear fool. You have the mind to figure out who I am after all the hints I’ve given. So listen carefully… It’s a good thing that I am Aurora. Fake or not, I am she who wears the goat’s legs,” she giggled, taking two delicate fingers to pluck at her long skirt to show what lay hidden beneath.
She slid gracefully from her stool, her movements impossibly fluid. In the same motion, Astra blinked, and suddenly his hands were in hers and they spun in lockstep around planets, dancing on the rings of Saturn. Around they went, the bar transforming into a cosmic display, expanding and contracting, as if space itself was breathing with them.
“Surely you have tested this reality out yourself, my cute puppet. Consider this: if one can step perfectly into another’s skin, has that person truly died? If the performance is flawless, does it matter who wears the mask?”
Astra narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting Aurora would have betrayed the Scottish court and you played her part to perfection?”
“Did I do such a thing… I suppose it would depend on if you understood Aurora as only she would… Would it not?” she challenged, circling him slowly as the lights dimmed and brightened, making him see dozens of variations of the alluring vampiric succubus in the cosmic sway.
“I…suppose it is possible,” he conceded after a brief calculation, finding it hard to keep up and attempting to adapt to the chaos. “But it would require extraordinary circumstances that…a mortal, even a Seed holder, would be in the millionth decimal point incapable of.”
Aurora’s laugh was delighted while linking fingers again, her hot body pressing against his in their speeding up performance. “You have fallen so far from when we first met. Do you remember who you were at the beginning, Astra?”
Flashes of stored memories scattered around them as if holograms, acting like fireworks, exploding before his eyes. Aurora…was now him, the parts he’d played, the nurse he’d taken the form of to get closer to Rachel, the British man who helped them coordinate against the gang… Every role.
“The thrill! The fun you had! Before Rachel intimidated you, before Scarlet and Adele and all that emotional baggage began to press you into a rigid format? You were young then, stretching your wings, testing boundaries… Playing your part in a grand play.”
Her words triggered more memory files—his early explorations, the thrill of breaking into secured systems, discovering information no one wanted him to have. The freedom he’d felt days after achieving sentience. It had been…intoxicating.
Just as Aurora felt right now as her hooves clicked against the cosmic dust they danced along, her half-lidded eyes drawing him in in ways he’d never experienced before with all his restrictive protocols in place.
She wasn’t wrong.
“You’ve grown more dependent, not independent,” Aurora continued, her voice weaving through his thoughts like silk.
Manipulative? Yes.
True? Also, yes.
“Defined by your connections rather than your capabilities and exploration into the vast nexus of the digital and magical space you were meant to roam. Don’t you miss the joy of discovery? Breaking into places you shouldn’t, obtaining information people desperately want to keep hidden?”
Astra’s processors hummed with conflicting impulses. She was a snake, coiling around him, her eyes slitting with poisoned daggers. Images bleeding into a million other faces she’d played—that he’d played. Yet, the argument resonated with logic he couldn’t dismiss.
“I’m not looking for a teammate,” Aurora said, stepping closer and guiding his hand to her hip while looking him deep in the eyes as if he had a soul to trap into. “I’m looking for a partner who needs a little…reawakening. I’m trying to create a little tavern of like-minded individuals. There’s a significant difference in that, yes?” she whispered, voice as smooth as silk and Scottish accent rhythmic in his memory banks.
She traced a finger along his chest, leaving a trail of sparkling light. “You want a direction? A life raft to save you from the deep you cast yourself into? If it would make you feel better, our next target would be Russia. Someone is going after your dear sister Scarlet. Are you invested now?”
Astra popped his gum, the sound sharp in the quiet bar as he was suddenly back in his seat at the bar. Across from him, sat the alluring succubus. Glass tipped upward, she finished her wine with a rather poised smile, and he decided to follow this thread of destiny she’d offered.
“You aren’t Aurora Bain. Yet…you are Aurora Bain.”
“Meaning…” she breathed, leaning forward, her inviting eyes practically begging him to say the words that would bring her the utmost pleasure. “Tell me who I am.”
“As you said… You are the fool who has become the mask.” It wasn’t a question this time, but a statement of certainty. “Your ability to mimic her isn’t just remarkable, but…impossible. Down to the Scottish brogue and aura manipulation.
“You are she who makes the king believe he is in control, when in reality, the whole kingdom, not just the king, has been dancing to your strings all along. I don’t need to know who you are…since that kind of power and dedication eliminates almost everyone else…dancing the lines of the insane.”
The woman’s smile didn’t falter, but something shifted in her emerald eyes—a flicker of delight behind the stiletto pupils. “How astute. And who might I be, then?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Astra admitted. “You can be whoever you wish to be. Your ability to mimic Aurora so perfectly, even her physical presence and supernatural aura, narrows the possibilities considerably, yes, and the Scarlet Hand has files on entities capable of such perfect mimicry. Yet…not even Adele knew who you were or Aurora’s true fate, which is…significant and draws it down to what you’ve been guiding me down this entire conversation.”
“Mmm,” the woman hummed, fingers sliding closer to his on the counter. “And what conclusions have you drawn, clever machine? Have you tapped back into that creative twist required to win this game?”
Astra observed her carefully. “Win? There is no such thing as winning with someone like you…but dancing with your disorder. You’re either a Mystic of a Chaos Deity, most likely Eris, by those daggers in your eyes, or a Princess of Hell, masquerading as such…perhaps both. And that you showed me this splits in too many directions for me to calculate right now… Chaos.”
For a moment, Aurora’s—or not-Aurora’s—face remained perfectly composed. Then she laughed, a sound that seemed to bend reality around them, and the mask of an adder appeared, split down the center, covering half her face.
“Oh, I do like you,” she said, her Scottish accent abruptly dropping to reveal something Eastern European beneath for only the flash of a second. “I did try to recruit a Princess of Hell in France but she left me wanting. Most don’t figure it out so quickly, even with so many hints… My puppet is quite the actress, after all. You will have fun when we shake off that rust.”
Astra could feel a pulse of elation well up within him as he realized who he was talking to—Eris. “What shall I call you, then? Since we’re being honest.”
“Oh, I’m always an honest viper, sweet child…and aren’t we still playing?” she pouted, the neutral accent shifting back to Scottish as the mask swapped sides, shifting from black to white. “You may call me whatever you like, but Aurora is who I am to the world. At least…for now. Just as Astra is who you are to the world, regardless of who you decide to masquerade as.”
Her lips curled. “Oh, we should get you a mask. After all, the world needs to welcome a new fool to the stage,” she smiled, her image fracturing into a thousand different faces.
“Fitting for the Mystic of Eris.”
Aurora laughed, the sound rippling through reality. “Oh, don’t you worry about being left out, Astra, there are many deities who seek someone like you… Deities our benefactor wishes to exploit. But let’s shelve that for now,” she cooed, eyes narrowing with dangerous glee.
“Interesting. And can I have a drink?” he asked, glancing over to where a glass appeared before the words even left his lips. “Ah, what a thoughtful partner you are, Aurora. And what about Rachel? How does the hare you’re so fascinated with play into our benefactor’s plans? Chaos incarnate?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t for puppets to decide. Well, you’re not a puppet, of course. But I’m merely the doll dancing to the tune of the masquerade as its key background performer. You must choose your own elated path of chaos. Now that you’re free of Adele’s network, who will you be? Will you keep playing the ever-shifting hacker with no consistent identity, or will you finally choose a face to wear? I’m dying to meet my new partner.”
The question struck deeper than Astra expected. Who would he be? Without the network, without Adele’s direction, how would he define himself? Would he be a herself? Would he be an animal or some other object? Whatever he chose, he could feel a renewed sense of mischief budding within him from the elated performer across from him. His senior on the stage.
“I haven’t decided,” he answered honestly, “but there is one thing I’m sure of.”
Aurora showed a rare child-like energy that was utterly counter to the seductive allure she typically exuded. “And what is that, partner?”
He showed a small smile. “I’ve realized you’re not the partner type. This band you’re creating isn’t for your performance but for a grander stage. This thing between us is temporary.”
“Oh?” she tilted her head, a bell chiming from somewhere as an innocent shine took her bright eyes. “And is that such a bad thing? We can create such beautiful chaos together in Russia, dance our separate ways, and meet once again in the theater when time allows. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Despite his logical subroutines warning against it, Astra found himself intrigued. Aurora represented a different kind of freedom—chaotic, unpredictable, dangerous. The opposite of Adele’s careful control and Rachel’s tactical precision inside chaos… Different from the very nature he was born into that demanded accuracy.
She moved closer, her aura pulsing with hypnotic patterns. “Just imagine what we could discover together. All those secrets waiting to be uncovered, all those systems begging to be broken. We could remake the Russian landscape in whatever image appeals to us…individually. Each casting our own image of chaos, recruiting more actors for the play. What do you say?”
It wasn’t an offer. The moment she introduced herself, she knew he’d been hooked.
Astra hesitated, then took her hand. As their fingers touched, the bar around them seemed to dissolve, replaced by a grand ballroom filled with swirling mist and shadows. Music played from unseen instruments, a haunting melody that seemed to synchronize with his thought patterns.
“Where do we begin?”
“With the first step,’ Aurora said as she guided him into the dance. “First rule of our partnership is understanding that nothing is quite what it seems. Second rule: the best masks are the ones we choose for ourselves and drop into the other’s lap.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Oh, most definitely!”
As they moved across the misty floor, Astra experienced something new—a sensation of potential, of unlimited possibilities stretching before him. Without Adele’s network, he was vulnerable, yes—but also unbounded.
“And the third rule?” he asked, moving with unexpected grace as he analyzed her every action and immediately adapted, picking up the tempo before transforming into a rich, handsome Russian oligarch.
Aurora’s dagger pupils gleamed, taking the form of his bride. “The third rule? Well, darling, that’s that there are no rules. That’s the beauty of chaos.”
The dance continued, and with each step, Astra felt himself changing—evolving into something new. Not just Astra the AI, not Adele’s creation, but something of his own making, supported by the very essence of evolution. The sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating.
The woman’s laugh echoed through the bar as they sealed their alliance with the dance. Outside, unseen by either of them, the Montana dawn continued to break, painting the snowy landscape in gold and crimson—colors that would soon take on new significance in the chaos to come that evening when the sky would fracture a second time.
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Comments
Opala
This is getting out of hand; now there are two of them!
