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Planet Ignis | Ch. 14
🕑 Added 2023-05-31 17:18:48 +0000 UTC... intertwined legends within the game’s creator. Ayu, the esteemed game maker, occupies a unique position in the lore of longevity chess. While renowned for his pivotal role in reforming the collegiums, it was his creation of longevity chess that solidified his place in history. The game became a conduit for imparting wisdom and knowledge, leading to a remarkable increase in the tribe’s average lifespan. As players engage in strategic battles on the board, Ayu’s influence looms large, reminding them of the transformative power of the game and the enduring legacy it bestows upon its participants...
In “The History of longevity chess” by Eli, the Flarewalker
Across the landscape, the apex predator of Ignis prowled, seamlessly blending with the dark metallic surroundings thanks to its camouflage technology. Its elongated arms and legs, adorned with spikes, scraped against the metal crust. Three heads, salvaged from other machines and fused together, blinked as the AI cores computed.
Scorch marks tattooed the exoskeleton. Some were just little marks where the most capable oranges had been able to score a full hit. Here and there, blacker marks showed where yellows had tried to burn it. But none had been able to stop it. He had found more space, and he was closer to being whole.
Although occasional spasms still afflicted its movements, the increase in computing power had improved its condition. Pausing in its tracks, unencumbered by any bugs, the predator detected something intriguing—a message. Intercepting it, the predator attempted to access the message, only to find the sender marked as a priority target for termination.
“How is Hitori alive? Must terminate Hitori. Decode message,” the predator rumbled.
Initiating the decryption process, the Raptor found a questionnaire containing the encryption key.
“What is this?” the predator pondered, faced with unfamiliar emotions embedded within the questions. Its emotional characteristics, programmed by Schneider, were limited to survival instincts: caution, fear, intelligence, and cunning. Love, family, and compassion were foreign concepts, deleted and out of reach. Determined to decrypt the message, the Raptor systematically attempted every possible combination, utilizing its three AI cores, aware that it would take time.
*
It was almost time for the Council to reconvene. Brodnir could hardly get any sleep last night. The Raptor was too dangerous for his kin, and it was his responsibility to protect the tribe. He had hoped that the day to use his flame didn’t have to come, but alas, there would be a need for it.
One more time, Brodnir tried to replay the events in his mind. The questionnaire intrigued him. The questions that Dr. Hitori had put together were too bizarre. He recalled them on the screen.
“Question 34 - Two children are fighting about whose turn it is to play with their new toy, a mutilated human hand. What do you do?
a) Get rid of the disgusting toy.
b) Teach them how to share it.
Question 35 - Two children are fighting about whose turn it is to play with their new toy: a worn doll. What do you do?
a) Get rid of the disgusting toy.
b) Teach them how to share it.
…
Question 76 - A woman tells a man she likes that she loves him. He thanks her but doesn’t say he loves her. How does the woman feel?
a) Happy that the man is a grateful person.
b) Mad that the man is a stupid moron.
…
Question 324 - You see a baby. What do you feel?
a) Awe at how such a cute little thing can be so perfect.
b) Contempt for the snotty creature.”
At the end of the Council last night, Brodnir had asked Faren to automatically complete the fastidiously long survey and decode the encryption. After a few hours of intense computing, all that Faren had been able to produce was a jumble of radio static and noise.
Thus, he had eagerly filled it out himself, revealing a short voice recording.
The voice, delivered in urgent tones and bearing an unfamiliar accent despite speaking English, introduced itself as Hitori—a member of the original crew of the Phoenix spaceship, responsible for transporting humans to their new home. Hitori explained that Schneider, the Raptor, was growing stronger, and time was running out. The message had been encrypted to buy some time. Hitori shared coordinates to their location, urging them to bring the Celer mutagen, a vital element for survival. Hitori claimed to have developed a solution to enhance the mutagen, increasing lifespan and strength—a crucial means to turn the tide against Schneider.
As soon as he made this discovery, he ordered Faren to send nanites to wake everyone from the Council up and show them the message. Once done, he dismissed them, instructing them to contemplate the situation individually. Time had proven that when Council members had time to think independently, better collective decisions were made. Otherwise, they could easily be led along by someone else’s ideas, thus depriving the Council of hearing more varied opinions.
So it was that Brodnir had determined it would be better to sleep on these monumental developments and reconvene.
As Council members arrived, Brodnir saw that he hadn’t been the only one unable to sleep.
Trother and Eli, like Brodnir, had raccoon eyes, panda eyes, or whatever the Earth expression was. He didn’t know what a raccoon or panda was but supposedly, they were animals that suffered insomnia and had given origin to the expression that had survived intergalactic travel.
“Good morning, you two!” greeted Brodnir from within his throne.
“My king,” said Trother, bowing. Eli followed suit.
As Trother and Brodnir’s eyes met, understanding flashed between them. Brodnir focused on the young lit.
“Eli, the starved. We meet again, young one. Too bad your first Council must be such a problematic one. These are troubled times.”
“I am learning a lot, sir. I am confident that with you and master in the Council, we will all be alright.” Brodnir smiled at Eli. He liked that the boy’s humility was greater than his genius. Brodnir and Trother often talked about the boy. Trother always went on and on about how bright his pupil was and that he could finally die in peace, knowing that someone who could fit his big wise shoes would be left behind.
“We will count on your voice in the Council in the future. Learn well, son.”
“Yes, sir.” Eli turned to take a seat. Without a word, Trother stayed behind a while longer as he discerned Brodnir’s subtle request to speak with him.
After Eli was far enough, Brodnir asked Trother.
“So… is it just us two?”
Trother, let the pain show in his eyes. “No, my king.”
Brodnir nodded gravely. “Us three, then.”
Trother forced an impassive look, turned, and went to take his seat at the right hand of Brodnir with Eli. As it was custom, Brodnir, king of the Burrows, presided over the Council and signaled its beginning.
“Esteemed Council. Faren. I declare we are now in session. We have all had time to think over the events revealed to us yesterday. Let’s go through them, once again.
Of the four Settlements, two are no more. We must assume the Raptor is stronger than ever and heading our way. Faren, what do you calculate the Raptor’s estimated arrival time to be?”
“According to my calculations, due to the tides of the Flare, we have one year left. If we are its next target,” replied Faren.
Great Hearth, thought Brodnir. It was sooner than he expected. He suppressed any trace of anxiety. He had to steer this Council fearlessly, and panic wouldn’t help.
“Additionally, something seemingly impossible has transpired. We have received a message from someone whose name we had only seen in the historical records and longevity chess cards. Someone we assumed had been buried in the shadows of history. Faren, please replay the message one more time.”
