Chapter Text
Together, you and this device will protect the future. Look closely, and remember what you see…
The weary face of the Scientist disappeared, and 9 closed the box. He gazed out past the stacked pages in his corner, to the moonlit interior of the Scientist's room. He had been here with 7 and the twins for a few weeks now. They'd originally meant only to stay a day or so, to see if there was anything to salvage, but the twins had found things to catalog and books to rifle through, and, to be honest, they really had no better place to be.
On the ground below, 3 and 4 lay asleep on an open book, curled up in each other's arms. 7 was nestled in the soft fabric of the nearby clothes drawer, also sleepin—no, wait… actually, she was awake. Staring at him, in fact.
She caught his gaze with her own and held it in a vice grip. "Open that box one more time," she said in a low voice, "and I'll toss it out the window. I'm trying to rest."
He grinned. Whoops. Out of curiosity, he made to open the box again, and 7 sat up, her eyes flashing. "Hey—" A sudden rustle from the floor interrupted her. "Look what you did. You woke them up."
"I wasn't the one yelling!" 9 replied, smiling.
The twins looked up at the two, bleary-eyed, before focusing on 7 and tilting their heads in confusion. "It's all right, you can go back to sleep." she said to them. But they were wide awake now. They clambered up the desk towards the windowsill where 9 sat—but not to say hi to him. Instead, they skittered over to a series of small pots in the windowsill and peered intently inside.
9 smiled bemusedly. Those pots had been the twins’ pet project ever since they made this place their temporary home. They'd found some small, stonelike objects called “seeds”, and told 7 and 9 through images and slidereels how those tiny little lumps, if given soil, water, and sunlight, would blossom into sprawling , strangely beautiful creatures known as “plants.”
And now that they'd destroyed the Machine, they would be able to grow new life, right?
At least, that's what they assumed. The twins had faithfully watered the seeds for weeks now and checked the pots obsessively, as they were doing now, but nothing came of it. 7 didn't know what was wrong, but told them to be patient.
"Any progress?” 7 asked them. As quickly as if a switch had been flipped, the twins changed their attention from the pots to her. “Oh, no, you don't have to come up—" she was cut off as 3 and 4 quickly crossed the room, scaled her makeshift ladder up the dresser, and leapt into her nest. "—here." The twins wasted no time curling up in the bed of soft clothing, snuggling against 7 and closing their eyes in the very image of contentment. She put a hand on 3's head and lay back down with a sigh.
"At least try to pretend you're keeping lookout." she said. "Okay?"
"All right." he said softly. He knew that his obsession grated on 7. But he also knew he couldn't just lay it to rest. Ever since they'd returned to the Scientist's house, it had eaten at him. No matter how many times he played the recording, he couldn't understand the meaning behind the words. They were made to 'protect the future'. At the time, 9 had thought that meant to destroy the Machine. They'd done that.
But something was off. It just didn't seem right. He thought back to the world he had seen in the painting, all the way back in the library. Bright and colorful and exploding with hope. The Scientist couldn't have created them just so that they could be lords over a dead, desolate wasteland. Was this really what they had fought so hard to achieve?
He turned back to the box. Next to it lay a small domed piece of metal—the talisman. Their worst nightmare and their savior. He picked it up and ran his thumb over the grooved surface. This talisman had brought them all to life. Then it had killed five of them. What was it really for? Had the scientist even intended it to be used as a weapon against the Machine?
It was the key. He just couldn't figure out how to use it.
He picked up a piece of paper, holding it up to the moonlight. The books and papers around him were everything that he and the twins had been able to find on the subject. He stared at the foreign, unreadable writing. 3 and 4 couldn't decipher it either. The only thing he could even vaguely understand were the diagrams. He looked at the carefully-drawn images, and yet again, there was the same sequence etched out onto the page—the three symbols, counterclockwise. The same sequence the Scientist showed him. The same sequence he used to destroy the Machine, and the same sequence he used to release the trapped souls of his friends. It appeared innumerable times in the notes.
He looked down at the talisman. Then up at the sequence. Then down again.
Oh, no you don't. A voice said in the back of his mind. It was his reasonable side, and as of late it took on 7's stern tone. Don't you remember what this thing did? It killed your friends.
But it also set them free. And brought them all to life in the first place.
It's dangerous. You don't know what it will do.
But they'd already scoured every note and book. There were no other clues around. Just the sequence, appearing over and over. What, exactly, did the talisman do, when it was not slave to a malevolent machine? Maybe it had only been destructive because the Machine was controlling it.
Maybe, 7’s disembodied voice said, you should stop trying to get yourself killed and go do lookout duty like you're supposed to.
He sighed. No, he couldn't. He'd been sitting around long enough, afraid of the unknown, waiting for something to happen. Using the talisman again was the only option he hadn't tried yet. He'd go crazy if he sat helpless any longer, and he’d go crazy if he didn't learn what it did.
He glanced over at the dresser. There was no movement from the sleeping forms inside. 7 wouldn't approve of this at all. He placed the talisman on the desk and backed into a crouch. He reached forward, stretched… and quickly pressed the sequence of buttons. Then scrambled backwards as quickly as he could.
The talisman glowed, sparked, and with a soft sproing, opened up. 9 froze. But no roiling storm of electricity flew at him. The talisman sat on the desk, a dull green glow emanating from inside it.
9 looked at the dresser again. But the noise hadn't woken them. He turned back to the talisman, wary. It didn't move. He edged closer, ready to retreat at a second's notice. There was no change. Now he stood above it. He gazed down into the gently pulsing core. Green, misty light swirled slowly in the center. Smaller pinpricks floated among the haze, drifting in and out of focus. It was hauntingly beautiful.
He reached down. Well, that had been anticlimactic. His fingers brushed the warm metal.
And, suddenly, he was no longer in the Scientist's room.
He stumbled backwards. He was on the edge of a gaping precipice. A few pebbles tumbled off the edge of the cliff and clinked softly as they fell down, down to a pit with no bottom. He shrank back. Then he noticed something strange. His feet, his hands, his whole body glowed with an ethereal green light. He looked just like the others had, when they left the talisman. Was he dead?
He looked up at his dimly-lit surroundings. No, it wasn't a cliff he was standing on—it was a chasm, stretching along as far as the eye could see. A sense of familiarity rose in his chest. And then he saw. On the other side of the rocky divide glowed hundreds on thousands on millions of green lights. Each light was a being—a human, or an animal, or a plant, or something too nondistinct to make out. They crowded along the edge of the gaping divide, pacing, jostling, clamoring, their numbers stretching as far as the eye could see. Some stood on the ground, some floated in the air, but none of them ventured past the border of the gap. It was as if an invisible pane of glass boxed them in.
9 saw jutting, jagged forms on either side of the gap, and suddenly he remembered. This was the chasm they had run across while fleeing the Machine. This was where the Machine had destroyed the bridge, and where 6 had died. Or was it? He recognized the chasm, and the bridge… but there were no factories or towns in the distance. The bare ground seemed to stretch on forever, split endlessly by the yawning , desolate abyss.
9 glanced behind him. On his side of the gap, a ways away, he saw three lights clumped together, curled up and fast asleep. 7 and the twins! What were they doing here? Were they okay? They seemed content enough, sleeping just as he had left them in the room. Far beyond them, he could make out a few scattered, dwindling pinpricks in the distance, like dim stars sprinkled at the edges of the horizon.
He turned back to the sea of ethereal green on the other side. A small form, tiny beside some of the other lights, elbowed its way out of the crowd. 9 recognized the eyepatch in an instant. "5!" he shouted. Or at least, he tried to—no sound came out of his mouth. How… why was 5 here? He suddenly realized what he had to be seeing. All these beings—were they all… souls? What in the world was the talisman showing him?
5 met his eyes and his face broke into a smile. He waved. 9 raised his hand in return. 5 was just how he remembered him. He suddenly wanted to run, to leap as far as he could across the abyss… if only he could get to him. He looked around. There was no place to cross. The only landmark in the entire place was the skeleton of the bridge on either side of the gap. He ran to it, clambered onto the metal. 5 moved to the opposite side of the bridge, concern flickering across his face.
9 tried to yell. "What happened here?" he mouthed. But 5 merely tilted his head. 9 settled for a sweeping, hopefully questioning gesture towards the bridge. 5 shrugged, and pointed downwards. There, resting against the side of the chasm in a cage of twisted steel and girders, hung the Machine. Its arms hung limp and its eye was dull and lifeless.
Of course. The Machine had destroyed the bridge.
He stepped out further on the splintered edge of the bridge. As he did so, 5's eye widened and he furiously shook his head back and forth, making shooing motions. 9 paused. What was 5 panicking about?
Something was wrong with this whole scenario, he could tell. There were far too many souls on the other side, and hardly any on his. The lights on the other side were innumerable, piled on one another, all pushing and gathering towards the divide, but yet nobody put so much as a toe over the edge. He beckoned to 5. This was ridiculous—at least a few of these souls could fly, right? What was a little chasm to them? But 5 just shook his head sadly.
There was something at work here he wasn't seeing. He got the feeling that this broken bridge, destroyed by the machine, represented far more than just a few splinters of wood. Was this why those seeds that 3 and 4 planted wouldn't grow, despite all their loving care? Had the Machine, in its sweeping march of death, not only devastated the physical world, but this one as well?
9 stretched out his arm to steady himself. And as his hand moved past the edge of the precipice, over the endless pit, a sudden chill ran up it. 9 shuddered and tried to pull away, but something invisible tugged back. It began pulling, drawing him closer to the edge. He dug his heels into the dirt and heaved backward, but it was useless. Something was dragging him in! He realized that the force was not sucking him down into the pit. Instead, it stretched his glowing, transparent fingers impossibly long, like taffy, until they trailed into mist that flowed to the other side of the gap.
On the other side, 5 looked stricken with horror. His mouth opened in silent yells and he motioned furiously. No, go back! his whole body seemed to shout.
The thought of crossing to the other side filled him with a sickening, icy realization. He couldn't cross over now! He wouldn't be able to get back! He twisted and fought, trying to break free of the frigid hold. He grabbed a bridge support and pulled with all his might. The cold grip moved past his elbow, relentless, unraveling his body bit by bit.
His grip was weakening. The cold was up to his shoulder now. He was going to be trapped on the other side forever—
Then, he felt two arms wrap around his waist. They yanked him back, hard—he felt the fabric on his arm give with a sickening tear. He hurtled backwards. The millions of soul-lights streaked across his vision, and the whole scene winked out.
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He opened his eyes. Even before he could focus them enough to make out the fuzzy shapes around him, he was jerked into a sudden embrace.
"9… oh, 9, you're okay…" 7 murmured into his shoulder. Behind her, the twins looked at him in concern. He blinked several times. He was back on the desk, back in the Scientist's room.
7 pulled away and looked into his eyes. "9, what happened?" she asked. "We woke up and the talisman was trying to suck you in…"
He almost laughed with relief. He was alive! They were alive. They were okay. He pulled her close. "You wouldn't believe what I saw!"
She sat back. "You saw something in there?" she asked. She looked to the side, where the talisman lay a few feet away. It was closed, motionless, shining innocently in the moonlight.
"Yeah, I did." 9 said. "It was amazing. I was back at the bridge and, and there were so many of them on the other side! You wouldn't believe how many. And 5 was there! I tried to get to him but the bridge was out. And then something started pulling at me, trying to suck me to the other side…"
7 was frowning. It was her I-have-no-idea-what-you're-babbling-about face. 9's smile slipped a few stitches. He probably wasn't making a whole lot of sense, was he…
Suddenly a realization hit him over the head. His eyes widened. "On our side!" he cried. "On our side! I saw you, and the twins… but I saw others too! They were really far away, but… that means there have to be more survivors out there!"
7 shook her head, seemingly giving up on any comprehension. "9… I… I'm just glad you're okay." She stood up and offered her hand. 9 took it and stood—and stumbled suddenly.
"9!" 7 cried. 9 quickly regained his footing. Something was weighing down his left side. He looked down and promptly recoiled in horror.
His first reaction was, what IS that thing? An arm hung from his left shoulder, swaying slightly. But wait… he'd always had an arm there. In fact, he remembered using it just a few minutes ago. It didn't look any different. But this limb… it didn't register to him. It didn't even feel like a part of him. It hung limp and unresponsive, as if someone had stolen his real one and tacked on a fake in some kind of prank.
7 followed his gaze. "Is there something wrong?" she asked.
"I… I can't feel my arm." he said, frowning.
"What? Can you move it?" 7 moved closer, grasped his left hand and lifted it. The movement didn't even register. She might as well have been holding one of the twin's hands for all the sensation it produced.
9 tried to move the limb. To his surprise, it responded, slowly and lethargically. It was bizarre, a feeling of controlling something that didn't belong to him.
"When I was being sucked over the gap…" he realized, "whatever was pulling me had a hold on my arm. It was almost to my shoulder when I finally managed to escape." He recalled the horrible tearing sensation he'd felt when he was pulled back into reality. What had happened to him?
The twins rushed forward and grasped his dead arm. They looked over it from every angle, eyes flashing.
"9, how did this even happen?" 7 asked. “What set off the talisman in the first place?”
9 dropped his eyes to the scuffed desk. "I… kind of, opened it up."
"You what!?" the twins jumped and scurried behind 9 at her sharp tone. She stared at him with disbelieving anger in her eyes. "Why would you do that?! You've seen what it does!"
9 shied away. 7 looked like she wanted to hit him. And no wonder; he'd nearly gotten himself killed just now, and for what? To satisfy his curiosity? He stared at a nick in the wood, unable to meet 7's eyes. "I know… I'm sorry."
7 let out a sigh, and her shoulders relaxed. “I don't... why do you do these things?”
"But…! I think I figured out more about it!" he said.
7 didn't share his enthusiasm. "The scientist made it so we could destroy the Machine." she said in a flat voice. "That's it." She grasped his hands. "Please, leave it alone. It's dangerous."
"No," 9 said. "We destroyed the Machine, but what good have we done if there's nothing to take its place?"
7 was silent for a long time. She released her grip; her hands dropped to her sides. Finally, she turned and leapt off the desk.
The twins hesitantly followed her after a few moments. They glanced back at 9 a few times, before hopping onto the chair and down to the floor, trailing her back to her nest in the dresser. 9 sat down. His useless arm lay limp at his side. He didn't want to make 7 angry. He didn't want to get himself hurt. But he couldn't just sit here, not with all those people trapped helplessly on the other side of the abyss.
The beautiful, ethereal world in the painting flickered across his vision. He could see the vibrant colors, feel the warm breeze, hear the bustle of the happy town.
He couldn't give up. They had only solved half the puzzle, and the Scientist—no, everyone, was depending on them to follow through to the end.