Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Robin exited the portal, a cold gust of wind blew over her as the freezing temperatures that the peak of the mountain harbored embraced her. The seemingly purposeless hallway of the Architects was covered in a thin sheet of ice, colors bland except for the trademark green that glowed relentlessly despite the ice that covered the surface. She brought up her hands to rub along her forearms to create heat from the friction as she gazed upon Al-An who proudly stood on the elevated platform outside the hallway.

He looked into the far distance of ice sheets floating on the surface of the ocean while he calculated all possible outcomes upon return. It wasn’t necessary for Robin to announce herself as he felt her presence nearing, so he turned around to look at the small human when she got close enough.

A sense of respect suddenly washed over Robin as she looked up at the majestic Architect towering in front of her.

“Robin, you’re just in time,” his voice sounded calm but the constant purple glow suggested anticipation or excitement. He turned away from her and pointed in the direction of a grumbling sound that grew louder by the second. “The phase gate is opening.”

The Architect was unbothered as she stepped closer to get a better look at the horizontal gates opening inside a portion of the mountain. “You’ve been hiding a phase gate here this whole time?” she asked in bewilderment, unable to comprehend.

Al-An turned around to face her, looking at her with childlike expectancy when the purple glow mixed with blue. “Only for the last millennium. It will lead us home.”

“No wonder you hid yourself from Alterra,” she concluded as the giant phase gate began levitating upwards toward its designated spot. She didn’t want to imagine what Alterra would do if they got their hands on this.

“It was imperative to keep the home world save—in hopes that the others survived.”

“Yeah,” Robin answered automatically as she observed the giant phase gate in awe which stood proudly in position, its wings vertically aligned before they began moving into a horizontal position.

Al-An momentarily returned his gaze to Robin, observing her body language in curiosity. To him, it was the first time revealing an Architect phase gate to a foreign species.

When the wings of the phase gate aligned, he evaluated his question before he decided to pose it. “Will you help me prepare the ship? The energy masts must be moved into place.”

Before she even had the chance to voice out her answer, Al-An passed her two of his inorganic arms. They floated to her flanks and moved in tandem with her own, organic arms as she examined the new, temporary addition. “Well, this is different,” she stated, impressed. The confidence and amazement in her voice made him experience a strange sense of confidence and proudness.

The Architect then teleported to a console on the platform beneath, setting to work straight away as he typed various sets of commands to make the necessary preparations. Indecipherable holographic letters floated above the console and Robin felt intrigued. She needed to ask Al-An to teach her their language sometime.

But before she would waste any more time thinking about the uncontrollable future, she went ahead and got to the first mast that needed to be repositioned. With unsteady but careful movements, she began levitating as she carefully moved the mast into place, only for it to be slightly off edge. The mast hit the edge and nearly fell into the depths of the snowy mountain hadn’t Robin caught it in time.

Once set in place, the frosted snow broke away as a beam of green light shone from underneath the mast while the mast idly floated. Green particles swirled around the lower half of the mast.

Heading over to the second, and therefore last, fallen mast, she repeated the process but underestimated her movements and involuntarily let go when the mast almost hit her in the face. The mast stopped levitating and began falling towards her. She barely managed to save herself on time before the mast would’ve crushed her. Robin quickly recovered from the shock and eventually placed the energy mast properly.

“Very good,” Al-An’s voice rang through, sounding seemingly unbothered of the fact that she almost got crushed. However, to him, admitting that a strange, strong, and irrational feeling bubbled up inside his chest when he witnessed that served no current purpose. “Return to me, and I will initiate ship assembly.”

Even in the gushing wind at the high altitude, his voice had a calming effect on her. That didn’t go unnoticed.

And so, she made her way back to the Architect and returned the borrowed arms, watching as they floated back onto his person. She also spotted a holographic solar system being projected as Al-An selected their destination.

“Thank you. The masts are in place and the energy field is ready,” he said as he looked at her, still glowing a purple-blueish hue. “There is no time to lose.”

Al-An teleported to the middle of the lower, wider platform on which Robin stood before when she had to readjust the masts. Speaking of which, green lightning sparked between the masts as the required energy built up. She stayed at the console and watched, fearing as though she may be in the way if she got any closer.

Suddenly, the little pedestal beneath the Architect elevated said alien as he began to float, his inorganic arms disappearing into tiny particles before they materialized into shackles at both his hands. The masts began circling the platform before they floated to Al-An, surrounding him. And slowly but surely, those morphed into tiny particles too as they started to create the spaceship. The new vehicle engulfed him and his vessel lost its color as soon as the vehicle powered on.

“Join me, Robin.”

Robin quickly made her way to the green beam of light underneath the ship and walked right into it before she was elevated. Crashing into the spaceship’s roof and falling to the floor with a loud thud, she groaned and moaned in pain as she laid there.

“I apologize,” said Al-An as the interior glowed in tandem to his voice. The colors kept reflecting his emotions, this time switching between purple and magenta. Magenta was the Architect-equivalent of blushing in this context, but hopefully, she didn’t surmise that. “The levitator was calibrated for heavier bodies.”

Robin slowly got to her feet and stayed quiet, looking around the interior in awe. The way Al-An’s vessel was hooked up to the ship was slightly disturbing but intriguing all the same. His vessel, without its colors, looked dead and hollow.

“I would have helped you to your feet but as you can see,” Al-An continued as he felt the need to explain. “I have been fully integrated with the ship.”

“Is this permanent?” Robin asked as she walked to the front, eyeing Al-An’s dormant vessel.

“Nothing is permanent,” the indifference in his voice tells her that he’s done this many times before. It was still an odd concept to her—and probably will be for a while more. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” she mumbled, hesitance betraying her voice. It wasn’t easy and she was aware that homesickness will be something she might experience, but it was better this way. She had nothing to lose. All that was of any importance to her was present. “Ready to leave the past behind.”

“Good. Please brace yourself, and then we will depart.”

Robin kept quiet and followed his order, keeping a tight grip on the railing right in front of Al-An’s vessel. She was turned toward it, looking at it for some more before she turned around to face the clear windows. It was probably a sight she was never going to see again, so she made sure to somewhat enjoy it.

Al-An then began counting down while the engines thrummed louder and louder. “Launching in three, two, one...”

The ship began gaining altitude to align with the phase gate. Robin’s nervousness grew by the second as she soon faced the opening phase gate, stunned by the mesmerizing view. Subconsciously, she whispered a few words and noises out of amazement. Her friend, Al-An, stayed silent as he focused on the task ahead.

And soon enough, they were through the phase gate with great velocity. The duo kept quiet during this process until they’ve come to a sudden halt in deep, outer space to prevent collision with a wandering asteroid. The proximity of the gigantic object intimidated Robin and caused her grip on the railing to tighten.

However, the view was stunningly amazing. She never thought herself to be a witness of distant gas clouds and galaxies. “What will we find when we get there?”

“If I am the last of my kind, I will experience the sorrow of ten thousand souls dimming,” it wasn’t quite an answer to her question, but the sadness and uncertainty underlying his tone made her feel empathic for the Architect. He evaded the bothersome meteorite.

Once again, Robin kept quiet as she was unsure of what to say. Hope was the last thing he’d need right now, knowing the consequences of shattered hope herself.

Suddenly, two other asteroids crashed into each other, debris jetting out into all directions but thankfully harmless to the sturdy spaceship. Al-An smoothly and effortlessly evaded the two bodies as well, speeding up towards the last phase gate eagerly. The answers he sought were too close to be slowing down now.

As soon as they passed through the last phase gate, harsh weather engulfed their ship. Thunder lit up the clouds around them as it roared, the accompanying rain hitting the front glass. Al-An was indifferent to the harsh weather as he steered against its strong currents.

The harsh weather passed in a matter of seconds and the duo was greeted with amazing architecture, the type of architecture she dreamed of discovering when Robin first heard of the Architects. However, she didn’t expect the odd architectural layout. Gigantic structures were tilted either left or right, but perhaps that only appeared to be the case as the clouds covered the ground completely.

“And if they survived?” Robin asked as they passed other structures, the light of the Sun growing stronger as the clouds diminished.

“With you, I’m ready to face whatever awaits,” replied the Architect almost carefully, but his voice betrayed his intentions. He had grown attached to her, and it caused a warm feeling to spread in her chest. Almost quietly, he added, “even if the outcome is the least favorable of all.”

That reminded her; Al-An had previously asked if her people would dissect her for her betrayal. Was that how the Architects dealt with traitors? Did he see himself as one? After all, he was the one responsible for the breakout of the Kharaa bacterium and his people have greatly suffered from it. She wondered if he was afraid of dying.

“Can you feel them already?” she asked, breaking the silence as they slowed down to take in the beautiful sight. It was a lot prettier and more astonishing than what she’d imagined.

“Yes. However, I am concerned,” he admitted hesitantly. He could feel the connection to their network steadily returning and, to no surprise, found that they were expecting them. There was anger, disappointment, hurt, and betrayal lingering all over the network wherever he was mentioned.

“Concerned about what?”

“My connection to our network feels hostile and unfamiliar.”

“A lot could’ve changed, Al-An,” she stated in an attempt to comfort her friend. It appeared that she was right with her guess, but now the question was; what would await them now that he was considered a traitor? Would they both be captured and killed?

“I detect uncertainty beneath your words of comfort,” Al-An called out, “why is that?”

For a moment, she hesitated. “They think of you as a traitor.”

Al-An momentarily kept silent. “That is an accurate observation—but we shall see.”

Robin decided to not push any further for now as they slowly ascended onto a landing platform. There were several other Architects already awaiting their arrival. She undoubtedly sensed hostility.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” mumbled Robin as she let go of the railing and watched Al-An return to his vessel.

The colors his vessel now displayed were cycling between orange and red, clearly a sign of anxiety, disappointment, or anger. Perhaps a mix of all of them. The shackles around his hands materialized back into the six inorganic arms and took their default position at his torso as he stood tall. He agreed with Robin, the feeling of hostility unfamiliar, but he couldn’t turn back now. “It is necessary.”

The hatch on the floor opened up as the green light beam returned, and Al-An thought it wiser to go first as to decrease the risk of inconveniences. Robin followed shortly after, staying quiet for what was about to come. The ship above the duo didn’t disassemble itself as a precautious measure.

The Architect mistress thought it unnecessary to address the clear lack of trust Al-An displayed as said Architect knew his current, dire position. In comparison to Al-An, only four inorganic arms levitated by her torso. Her torso was partially covered in armor. The usual staff a mistress would carry was amiss, but to the Architects it meant nothing. Alone her cybernetic signature was enough to bring up their respect for the highness.

“Not only have you decided to return without a sample of the enzyme, but you’ve also brought an inefficient pet with yourself,” said the mistress in their language as she stood among two other Architects. Unlike their mistress, they did possess a staff in case it came down to violence. The colors her torso displayed were an angry mixture of red and orange. “Another mistake to take into account.”

Al-An’s posture was stoic but stiff, clearly displaying the respect he held for her despite his colors suggesting other emotions circulating within. Much to his dismay, his distress was too overwhelming to hide. “I was uncertain what to expect upon my return,” he replied with a faux calm voice, “And, if I may add, she is not a pet.”

“What has it done to be of any higher importance?” asked the mistress as she tilted her head slightly upwards, unimpressed.

A small tinge of irritation flared up in Al-An when his mistress refused to acknowledge Robin for the individual she was, but he was quick to suppress that illogical emotion. “She saved me when the sanctuary was critically low on power and aided me in vessel assembly.”

The three Architects gazed upon Robin now, studying her as she nervously shifted on her feet. Robin had always disliked the attention of multiple individuals upon her.

Aware the elevated distress this caused, Al-An took a few steps closer to lend comfort and courage.

Robin wasn’t left with any choice before she automatically spoke with respect. “Hello,” it was unknown whether Architects bowed to their highness, presumably not, but Robin did it anyway. “My name is Robin Ayou and it is an honor to be here.”

Impressed by the respectful introduction, Al-An’s color switched to a blue. He was able to recall the same gesture from medieval times on Earth and found it astonishing that humans still practiced the same gesture.

He was clearly not alone as the mistress and the other two Architects returned the bow before the mistress spoke. “Hello, Mrs. Ayou,” her now-comprehensible words sounded soft as her color turned purple, “the honor is likewise and we hope for continuation of this unique affiliation.”

Even though there was no verbal confirmation of gratitude towards her heroic acts, she could feel it present. It meant a lot to the Architects when a foreign species saved the life of a fellow Architect, and that much was very clear.

“Yes, of course. I promise we will not disappoint you,” Robin flashed the mistress a sincere smile.

“Very well,” the mistress began speaking in their language again as her attention returned to Al-An, whose distress was now low enough for him to keep his color at green. Having gained a considerable amount of respect for the human, the mistress decided to address the human appropriately from this moment on. “we hope her efforts will not have been in vain. You are granted a chance to atone for your mistake. If you do, however, make another, you will be terminated and a fellow Architect will take your place.”

Despite his familiarity with that protocol, it was anything but pleasant to have it against him. The exposure to Robin’s uncontrolled and straightforward emotions had given him a wider understanding as to why some of his people decided to flee from their sentenced termination. As much as he valued science and loyalty, his continued sentience held much more value. “I understand, thank you.”

“As for your fellow friend, she is granted permission to request a new vessel if she shows continued loyalty. Although if you fail, she will share your fate.”

Al-An felt uneasy and his color momentarily switched to red. “Acknowledged.”

“Good,” the other Architects slowly began to retreat. “You shall set out to 4546B right away if your friend does not require to rest. Make sure to return with the enzyme samples.”

Then, at last, the mistress elegantly headed back to her duties in a proud, calculated gait.

Now by themselves, Al-An turned around to face Robin who looked up to him almost expectantly. It felt odd that he was more comfortable around her rather than his kind, but that would likely soon change. Either conditions would improve or regress, the latter of which he didn’t want to think of.

He studied Robin’s tired features and took note of her lowered vitals. “Do you wish to rest your body?”

The question suddenly caused Robin to realize how tired she grew after the whole ordeal, but there was an odd feeling that accompanied her upon receiving the question. There was more to it. “Yeah, this is a bit much to take in all at once.”

“Very well,” he said and the ship began disassembling itself, the masts returning to their designated spot, “follow me then.”

Al-An went ahead first, walking a bit slower than normal so Robin could keep up with him. The way Robin walked made her look so small and inferior, however, at the same time her big, curious eyes darted to everything around her in awe. “I apologize if my people had left a rather unpleasant imprint on your first impression.”

Robin’s head immediately snapped to look up to him, denial written across her face. “What? No, it’s fine,” she replied reassuringly and saw him tilting his head slightly, reminding her of a puppy. “I just wish I understood what that all was about. I have a feeling that it wasn’t... a warm welcome.”

“Not precisely, but that was to be expected. I have been granted a chance to atone for my mistake,” he said and paused, contemplating whether it was convenient to tell her about matters that involved her as they were partially unpleasant.  “However, if I make another, you and I perish for it.”

Suddenly it felt like the temperature dropped lower. She hadn’t expected to be welcomed with a death threat. “What?! And—and what if you don’t?”

“Then I will be able to continue living amongst my people and you will be offered a request to transfer your mind into a new body.”

She stopped walking and looked directly at Al-An in shock. “I have a chance to become an ‘Architect’ just like that?”

“No, you will accompany me,” the way her vitals instantly elevated amused Al-An as he corrected her, and therefore, followed with an explanation to make things clear. “You are going to work alongside me and prove how efficient and resourceful you are. If these conditions are met, you are allowed to integrate yourself into our network.”

Robin didn’t bother asking what would be if those conditions weren’t met, still remembering the time Al-An told her that she’d be considered a pet where he came from. “Wow, this feels like university all over again,” she exclaimed, “the stress and anxiety of not passing; of becoming a failure to society.”

“Your current mindset will only lower your chances of success.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve experienced that first-hand,” she mumbled as fragments of old memories resurfaced. “I don’t know how I would be able to pass, I’m not an Architect after all.”

“You would not be the first of a foreign species to be integrated. The evaluations will adjust themselves in regard to your species designation,” he explained, but her uncertainty still lingered. Perhaps a little sentiment would help. “There is no reason for you to nourish that mindset. I am certain of your success if you give it your best.”

“Thank you, Al-An,” she smiled and suddenly felt reassured, if not flattered, that such a highly intelligent creature like him was certain of her success. To Al-An, the sentimental approach was a success. “I suppose we’ve got a mission to fulfill then?”

“Yes, we must return to planet 4546B and collect the enzyme samples,” he looked around, sensing something amiss ever since they’ve arrived. It was a tragedy that their population size has receded dramatically.

“But don’t your people already have the cure?”

“No,” Al-An’s tone dropped bitterly, “humans withheld the enzyme from us. My kind has chosen not to interfere in fear of drawing attention.”

“You’re so superior to us in many aspects and yet you fear us. Why?”

“Humans are particularly drawn to violence. It would be a waste of our resources if we were to engage with a species whose concept of war and violence never perished.”

Silence fell upon Robin, his answer making a fair point. It was only logical that Architects have already moved past the concept of war and genocide to increase efficiency. “Are they afraid that my presence will draw other humans to this place?”

“No. Your kind will not reach us without the phase gate and I would not have brought you here if I believed otherwise.”

Keeping silent again as she followed Al-An, she thought about Cal and her other colleagues she’d left behind without wishing farewell. It made her feel guilty and paired with the growing tiredness, it resulted in miserability. She involuntarily walked slower.

Al-An wasn’t oblivious to that and decided that further travel would be inadvisable for her, nor would it be efficient, so he carefully levitated her onto his rump. The pressure felt slightly uncomfortable as Architects rarely carried something or someone on their rump, but it was nothing he wouldn’t be able to adjust to. Besides, her gentle touch was oddly comforting.

“What are you doing?” Robin asked, feeling as though she was invading his personal space despite the fact that it was him who lifted her up there. She was careful not to make the Architect uncomfortable.

“It will take us some time to get to my quarters and therefore, it would be counterproductive to let you walk any further in your current condition.”

“But—but wouldn’t I be intruding your private space?”

Al-An paused and hesitated, carefully processing data to formulate his answer. It was usually of no importance to him because the Architects have long since abandoned that concept, but now there was a slight change within him. It was not of any majority, but it was small enough to make him reconsider. That small, strange, and unfamiliar urge to value and keep his privacy safe; only share it with whom he felt comfortable with. With whom he felt wouldn’t judge him when he showed his vulnerability. “No. Your presence does not bring discomfort to me.”

Surprised with his response, she reluctantly nodded in acknowledgment.

As several minutes passed by, Robin eventually leaned against Al-An and drifted off to sleep. It was a surprising discovery to Al-An that the gentle rocking of his gait had aided in lowering her vitals and he would eventually have to ask for its origin. Nonetheless, he avoided disturbing her hibernation and instead focused on a couple of necessary preparations for tomorrow.

The way the colors of nearby passing Architects turned orange or red was aloof, but he did not show the discomfort it caused within. It was of no current importance.

Just like the warm feeling he experienced every time Robin’s hand caressed his skin as she dreamt of Potato was of no current importance.

Chapter Text

Robin stirred awake and found herself trapped by two large, heavy arms. It took her no less than a second to realize that it was Al-An who kept her close for a reason she couldn’t fathom. Said Architect was eerily still before he looked down to her, carefully withdrawing his arms a moment later and proceeding to stand up. His six inorganic arms were nowhere to be seen. Real-time analytics concluded that she had rested well enough—deeming his efforts a success.

“What were you doing?” she asked and followed suit, stretching out her tired muscles with a groan. The way Al-An tilted his head when he heard the groan made her crack a smile. Unfortunately to her dismay, she quickly grew aware of the low temperatures in this room and sought a heat source. She desperately wanted to cling to his body but, for obvious reasons, that never came to realization.

Given that Al-An had been hibernating before Robin awoke, he also proceeded to stretch in order to rid himself of the discomforting stiffness. The lights in the room flickered brighter as he did so, feeling the rush of energy seeping in. “Your body would have reached suboptimal levels in temperature so I had to keep you warm. Our bodies are resistant to temperatures; therefore, we do not require to construct heating or cooling systems,” he explained while stomping his hindlegs a couple of times.

“Oh,” she mumbled as her face slightly heated up in shyness, “thank you.”

“Current data also suggests that it would be appropriate to say  good morning ,” he spoke and idly stood by her side, observing the human’s significantly smaller frame. Their height difference was something Al-An would almost call endearing. “Is that correct?”

“Yes,” she laughed in a hoarse voice, intrigued by the fact that he’d been looking up about human culture just for one, puny individual, “good morning.”

Al-An’s color momentarily turned magenta before it settled into a calm green again. It was an unfamiliar feeling to be the one inferior in knowledge when he spent all his life with the opposite instead. “I wanted to ask, do all humans tend to relax to the gentle motion of rocking back and forth?”

“Yes,” she said and flashed him a smile, momentarily abandoning the motion of gathering everything needed so Al-An could respectfully be given the proper amount of attention. She had a certain hunch as to why the Architect asked. “In fact, it’s something our parents do to make us fall asleep. Oftentimes, when we’re young it is hard for us to fall asleep due to the vast amount of energy we have.”

Al-An curiously tilted his head. “I understand.”

“What about you? I haven’t seen a single child running around or a couple, for that matter.”

“We no longer posses the urge to mate as we store our consciousness in storage mediums in case of physical death. Therefore, we have not yet had the urge of recreating a sentient consciousness.”

“So does that mean you cannot experience love?”

“Not precisely. We are capable of feeling love but not for the purpose of recreation—it is merely a unique bond between two individuals who feel very fond of each other.”

“That’s… not far from human love, actually,” she concluded and then returned to pack her little backpack. There was a certain question on the tip of her tongue but it was unlikely that she would receive a direct answer. “So, what, you admire their personality? Their intelligence?”

Al-An momentarily paused, trying to draw conclusions that somewhat caused conflict within. In the end, he was uncertain of his answer. “I... have not yet experienced love in order to be capable of understanding it, but that is a precise assumption considering the information I have been able to gather from the network.”

Much to the Architect’s dismay, Robin saw straight through him. “What was it that you would say? ' I detect uncertainty beneath your provided answer?' ”

Robin’s callout caused the Architect’s color to switch to magenta as he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “... I am merely uncertain due to the lack of personal experience.”

With that, Al-An headed to the tall entrance of the room that was closed off with a force field and stood by four perfectly aligned pillars. They began floating around him as they materialized into his six trademark arms and took their default position at his torso.

On the other hand, Robin was not as quick. She sat on the ground and ate a nutrient block for breakfast, occasionally taking a sip from a water bottle. The PDA, along with other necessities, were packed up and ready for travel as the backpack laid beside her. Her other scarce personal belongings, such as picture frames of loved ones, were neatly placed on terminals by Al-An himself where they wouldn’t obstruct anything of functional importance due to the scarce availability of surface areas in the room.

Surprisingly, Al-An intently watched her before coming over. He proceeded to sit on the ground, legs neatly folded beneath him, and levitated her to rest on top of his rump instead. “It is ill-advised for humans to sit on cold surfaces.”

If someone had asked her a few weeks prior if the Architect she saved would be a mother hen, Robin would undoubtedly call them crazy. Said Architect was very aloof and analytical back then, so she often wondered if the sudden abundance of emotion was her influence. “That’s what our mother always used to say before she either passed us pillows to sit on or threw them straight in our face,” she looked at him rather passively whilst recalling the memory, smiling.

“If so, why do you do otherwise?”

“Because that’s part of growing up! You think you know better until life proves you otherwise. When that happens, it’s usually very embarrassing and your parents don’t hold back from rubbing it in your face—and that for a long while!”

“That seems rather foolish. To us, that would be a waste of resources if our offspring were to misbehave,” he stated, clearly unimpressed by the sheer stupidity humans tended to carry. So far, he was rather glad their kind no longer had to reproduce. 

“Oh, come on! Don’t be a party-pooper,” Robin exclaimed, playfully jabbing his side with her elbow. And of course, the Architect had to tilt his head in confusion at the gesture. “But anyway, that’s not nearly half as bad as the other things foolish humans tend to do.”

“I have no desire to find out.”

She couldn’t help but crack a sheepish grin—one which oddly caused Al-An to feel warmth—before a comforting silence began stretching out between the duo. Any display of happiness was contagious for the Architect for reasons he couldn’t identify. And Robin obviously had nothing else to do other than eat her breakfast, so she ended up envying his lack of human knowledge. Often, she would wish the same upon herself, but then again, that would probably make her want to find out more about humans. So, either way, she would end up with an abash observation that humans grew more idiotic the more time passed. She couldn’t be any gladder to be no longer among them—with a few exceptions, of course.

“You are displeased with your kind,” Al-An stated his observation, the offer of deleting specific memories on the edge of his mind. However, he was certain that she would not want that despite recent events, so the Architect kept quiet on that.

“I unfortunately don’t have a reason not to be,” she answered with a sigh. Unpleasant memories unwillingly flooded her thoughts; of Alterra, of the inconsistencies even at XenoWorx and her sister’s death. The memories related to her sister were most disheartening, only further elevating her sour mood. The things she wished upon Alterra would be better left unknown.

Al-An noticed the dramatic shift in her mood. “Understandably so,” his calm voice cut through the disheartening memories so effortlessly, it made her look up at him with a perplexed expression, “but you should not let the past catch up with you.”

“That’s easier said than done,” she mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else as she looked back at the remnants of the nutrient block. Suddenly, she sensed a calm presence amidst the hostility and soon enough, the memories stopped tormenting her. “You know, I don’t know if I should reprimand or thank you for that.”

The presence in her mind immediately disappeared and she felt strangely empty as it did so. “I apologize.”

“No, no!  I’m  sorry,” she quickly said, feeling as though she made the Architect unnecessarily guilty when he had just attempted to help. “I just—don’t know how to deal with that yet. But thank you... for helping me.”

His color changed to purple for a little longer than just a moment. “I understand,” he replied, “I feel glad you do not see my intention as ill.”

Robin flashed him a smile before gently pushing herself to stand up, the nutrient block completely gone. She was about to ask him something when his features displayed hesitation.

“I detected a negative shift in your disposition once I retreated from your mind. Do you perhaps like my presence?”

Her body involuntarily went rigid as the question left her uncertain of the answer. It was something of a surprise as well, seeing as she felt very happy once he got transferred to his vessel. “I... yes, I do,” she eventually said, shifting her weight, “you’ve been in my mind long enough to make it feel lonely now.”

Al-An stayed silent but the presence returned, laying dormant in the depths of her mind. The received admission caused the same warmth to emit from the core of his chest, which was something he thankfully didn’t need to hide as the Architect grew to enjoy it.

“Thank you,” Robin smiled as bright as the Sun and cherished the presence in her mind, “let’s go collect that enzyme sample now, shall we?”

“Yes.”

Together, the duo walked towards the force field that was the Architect-equivalent of a door and, once Al-An quickly disabled it, made their way out of the building. The moment they exited the enormous compartment structure, the rays of the Sun greeted them warmly. It was less cloudy and less busy on the pathways as Architects ran their errands, automatically decreasing their number outside.

Above their heads, hums of ion boosters could be heard since they also used floating vehicles to get around. Robin looked up in awe towards the hybrids of cars and space ships, their unique design intriguing her. It was an efficient way of travel so it made sense that a lot of Architects preferred to run their errands that way. Despite that, it was not even close to how busy a metropolis on Earth could get. That alone was fascinating but tragic as this showed the sheer effect the Kharaa had on their population.

She decided to breach that subject at this exact moment. “If the Kharaa had this much of an effect on your population, why don’t you just create new bodies for those who died? That is assuming their consciousness is stored somewhere safe.”

“The risk of another contamination would be high and therefore, we would only waste precious resources.”

“Hm, that makes sense,” she said and thought of other possibilities, “and what if you’re in danger of going extinct?”

Al-An felt slight discomfort at the thought. “Then we would restore as many as we would need in order to prevent that from happening.”

Robin nodded in acknowledgment and kept following Al-An, however, at a faster pace than normal as to keep up with the taller creature. She gazed out to the modified bodies of water and their unique, blocky shapes intrigued her as they looked as flawless as one could make them. There wasn’t much flora or fauna, except for the occasional alien birds or stunning alien trees. These trees somewhat resembled a very unique bonsai tree, except that their leaves were in a blocky pattern as green and black veins delved into the trump from below. It was very strange and it felt somewhat unnatural, but who was she to judge? She had no clue if they were indigenous or adventitious.

After a little while, they arrived at the landing site and Al-An immediately set out to work in order to prepare everything. Given the fact that there was nothing for Robin to do, she simply stood by his side and watched the holographic display of different images and letters change as he made various changes. Once he selected the planet 4546B, the phase gate surfaced from beneath the water, levitating up to its position just like it did yesterday.

Robin could not contain her curiosity the way the holographic letters almost seemed to taunt her. “Can you teach me your language someday?”

“That will not be necessary if you request a transfer,” he responded and looked at her, taking his inorganic hands off of the console. Now all that needed to be done was assemble the ship. “But if it is of any personal value to you, I can transfer my linguistic knowledge to you directly.”

“Wait, I would gain access to  all  of the knowledge you have if I requested a transfer?!”

“All the knowledge  we  have,” Al-An corrected her and watched as her jaw dropped, eyes wide, upon receiving his upcoming answer, “but yes. Was the fact that you would be able to connect to the network not obvious?”

“Well, n—yes, but I didn’t think of it!” she stammered but quickly recovered from the sudden, though obvious, revelation. “Let me guess though, in turn for that the network will gain all my knowledge, right?”

“Yes, everything we can benefit from. That excludes anything you deem private if there is anything you would like to keep for yourself.”

“Okay,” she replied, “I’ll think about it—but not the transfer, the language thing!”

“Very well.”

Al-An went ahead to initiate ship assembly once he stood in the middle to be integrated. As before, Robin watched from the console and felt saddened to leave the very place she had only begun finding out about, but it was a valid source of motivation. All she had to do was have faith in herself—Al-An already had it all, if not a little too much.

Once the ship had successfully been assembled, Robin walked into the green beam of light. Surprisingly, this time she levitated into the interior of the ship at a much slower rate and the hatch closed before her feet made contact.

“While you were asleep, I calibrated the levitator to suit your measures.”

“Why, thank you,” she grinned, excitement bubbling up in her chest before she grabbed the railing to brace herself. Albeit the sadness still lingered, not completely drowned from the excitement.

Reluctantly, she bid her temporary goodbye to the Architects’ home planet before they warped through the phase gate at high speed. The first phase gate brought them to the same spot in deep space as before, far galaxies and gas clouds beautifully decorating the otherwise dark space. No asteroids crashed into each other this time and before she knew it, they were through the second phase gate, too.

Out of nowhere came the snowy mountain as they raced towards it with full speed and Robin’s grip on the railing tightened just before Al-An maneuvered it. “What was that all about?!” she exclaimed, less than happy for the close encounter.

“It would have been inefficient to lose velocity and momentum.”

She had to hold herself back from lashing out, from asking whether he had some sort of a sudden death wish but the more Robin thought about that, the less appropriate it became. If there was one flawless pilot she had to name, it was definitely Al-An, so there was absolutely no reason for her to say anything. Instead, she exhaled in annoyance and put a hand on her chest as if to calm her racing heart. “Anyway, why aren’t we stopping here?”

“A millennia ago, the void was a hostile place. I have my doubts that it is the opposite now,” Al-An replied as he flew closer to the water’s surface, as far away from the ice shelves as possible to avoid being seen from Alterra. The water steadily turned darker until it was completely dark. “I can still sense their presence.”

“ Their  presence?”

“Your kind calls them the  Ghost Leviathans —which is an accurate term all things considered.”

Robin’s body instantly shuddered as she recalled the image of the mentioned creature. Ryley Robinson, the sole survivor of the Aurora, had encountered it one too many times and so, he had plenty to share. Surprisingly, he had even provided images that made it very clear that the creature should be avoided at all costs. “Well, then I’m more than happy to know I won’t encounter them.”

“That has yet to be seen. A millennium is enough for things to change,” he said, recalling the events and fragments of memories before his sentience had been stored away. “I am uncertain what will await us, but I hope you are right.”

“Well, Ryley Robinson survived the Aurora crashing into this planet two years ago. He reported spotting them only in the Lost River and the Void.”

“The  Lost River ?” Al-An echoed, unfamiliar with the designation.

“The Lost River is an underground cave system with green, toxic rivers. Apparently, according to Ryley, juvenile Ghost Leviathans spend their time there before they travel out into the Void once they reach adulthood.”

The ship’s interior color momentarily displayed Al-An’s displeasure. “ That  might prove to be an inconvenience.”

“It... shouldn’t, if I remember correctly. Ryley was able to activate a portal that leads from the Primary Containment Facility up to the... the Quarantine Reinforcement Facility? So, we should be able to get there pretty quickly—that is unless Alterra tinkered around.”

“Unlikely. Humans have not yet found out how to remove the energy source.”

And with that, the silence stretched out between the duo once again as they continued further travel. Land slowly started to come into view, as well as the thrusters of the Aurora, indicating that they’d need to travel further to reach the Quarantine Reinforcement Facility. Even though it was not much of a view, to Robin it still felt like a historical site. It was almost unique.

The water steadily brightened and as they flew over certain underwater biomes, its color and hue gradually changed. Ryley’s life pod was nowhere to be seen, neither was the platform of the Neptune rocket. The wreck of the Aurora was almost gone, salvaged by Alterra teams over the span of two years. Given the current evidence at hand, it appeared that the teams were still salvaging the wreck but thankfully, there was no one to be seen. 

A minute or two later, the duo finally arrived at the island where the Quarantine Reinforcement Facility was stationed. Al-An picked the most discreet place to leave the ship stationed before he returned to his vessel, heading towards the hatch before the green light beam lowered him to the ground. Something felt strange, amiss even, but he couldn’t quite distinguish the issue.

Robin followed shortly after and jumped around rather comically as the sand burned her feet through her wetsuit. It was a confusing sight for Al-An at first and it took him a moment to realize what was happening, thus what was amiss. However, that was enough time for Robin to consider her options as she ran towards the water. Al-An was barely able to interfere on time, catching her with the anti-gravity beam and levitating her on top of his rump instead.

“That would have been highly foolish of you,” he remarked, his color momentarily changing to a fiery red, “the antibacterial agent we came here for is now ineffective.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” she asked, out of breath from the pained hissing and whining she did a few seconds prior.

Al-An walked towards the entrance and kept looking at the water as he located the portal easily. “The bacterium has mutated—I am unable to identify the reason for its success,” he explained, feeling troubled. The cure for his people was still down there, but getting there meant contracting the mutated bacterium—which would require developing a new cure. With the extremely scanty knowledge currently available, the risk was too high. “I detect the portal at an approximate depth of a hundred and sixty meters, but none of us will get to it successfully without contamination.”

“How?! The enzyme was released, curing every living being on this planet successfully! Alterra would’ve never let their personnel snoop around if that was not the case,” Robin exclaimed and felt highly alarmed at the new, grim discovery. She paused and unintentionally came to a conclusion, one that made her blood freeze. “Unless… Alterra unintentionally released it.”

The Architect kept quiet for a moment. “That would explain the immediate evacuation of all Alterran personnel, however, its current absence in that particular sector makes it difficult to distinguish the reason behind their early evacuation.”

“Well, there is a saying that’s shared among humans, and it goes “Better safe than sorry”,” she cited hesitantly as her frantic mind processed too many thoughts at once. What were they to do now? Someone had to go and retrieve the cure, but she couldn’t let Al-An get infected again especially given the fact that there was nothing they knew about the new strain. “Is there anything we can know for sure about this mutation?”

“No, I can only draw conclusions from the knowledge currently available to me. Did Alterra develop it to serve a certain purpose?”

“Yes, Danielle was fond of the idea that they’re going to help people and expand their current knowledge on genetics, but knowing Alterra they were probably secretly planning to weaponize it.”

Al-An shifted his gaze towards the ground in contemplation as he sifted through everything related to weaponized diseases. “Taking in regard the two-year timeframe Alterra had to their availability, it is highly possible that it is beyond its early iterations,” he began and then returned his gaze toward Robin who looked at him expectantly, “meaning its incubation time could range from hours up to a few days. It is likely to be very effective, aggressive, and devastating.”

His estimations made it clear who had to go. Al-An’s scientific contributions were of high significance while hers completely paled in comparison, if not perished. Who was she in comparison to an extraterrestrial lead scientist?

Said extraterrestrial lead scientist intricately followed her thought process and disliked the very idea of it. Her frail organism would stand no chance against a weaponized disease, let alone one so powerful. “Robin—”

But before he could even begin properly, the stubborn human jumped off and ran toward the water in a futile attempt to escape Al-An’s grasp. However, the Architect’s inorganic arm caught her in the anti-gravity beam, thus returning her flailing form to his proximity. “Do you have any idea what you are subjecting yourself to?” he asked, voice aloof.

“Yes, I’m well aware! Now, let me go,” she almost hissed and kept on flailing her limbs around. They were running out of time and here they were, delaying the inevitable.

“No, you will perish if you do.”

The continued denial wasn’t well received. “And what then? Who am I anyway?” she spat, “tell me, who am I to you? Let’s be real, I’ll drop my defensive attitude. What do my contributions do?”

Al-An was taken by surprise from the sheer hostility coming from her. However, there was nothing he could do other than staying silent, painfully aware that she proved a valid point.

“Exactly! So please, let me go,” she tried softer this time, dropping the hostile behavior. She didn’t want to be too harsh, after all.

When he still didn’t let go of her, Robin would’ve reattempted her conviction if Al-An hadn’t been ahead of her. Hesitantly, his color slightly mixed with purple as he said, “you are… my friend and savior. I do not wish to see you perish.”

The words died in her throat and she looked at him with big eyes. She sensed that there was more to come and so, kept silent.

“Please, do keep in mind that I will try everything in my power to cure you. You are not of any minor importance.”

Still left speechless from the sudden admission, her form stayed almost rigid as she was lowered to the ground. Her brain experienced a complete blackout, all primary functions shutting down as she was still processing the words that just came from the Architect. Again, so superior and highly intelligent yet he perceived her, a mere human, of importance. Of such importance that he would do anything in his power to develop the cure for her. She desperately wanted to hug the Architect but thought it wiser not to. Instead, she replied with, “okay... I—I will. I trust you.”

“Thank you. I sense that you are withholding the urge to embrace me in a hug,” Al-An stated almost bluntly and tilted his head curiously. When was that big puppy ever going to stop doing that? “Why is that? What do hugs stand for?”

“Well, I guess people hug others for plenty of reasons? Now though, it would be gratefulness but—I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Al-An idly stood there and watched her before reluctantly stepping closer, lifting the human up as he held her frail form against his chest. However, she began slipping out of his grip so he had to hold her tighter. “Is this accurate?”

“Y—yes,” she said and felt her heart speed up. She wrapped her arms around him in return and listened to his hybrid heart beating steadily. With curiosity, she noted that it did not sound different at all.

“It rather seems that it makes  you  uncomfortable,” Al-An observed. Despite his inexperience, he felt like he was enjoying the embrace. It was comforting.

“No, this was just unexpected,” Robin replied, enjoying the hug as well. However, due to urgent reasons, she reluctantly had to break the hug a few moments later and was gently lowered to the ground.

Without looking back again, she ran towards the water and mentally braced herself whilst Al-An stood back, watching her as she left. He felt an odd sense of uncertainty and concern emerge from the core of his chest.

The moment Robin jumped in, the cold water refreshingly embraced her as she immediately began to swam downwards, looking for the portal. Al-An’s presence suddenly grew stronger as though he was unwilling to let her go completely on her own.

She swam further down, immensely grateful for the training she’d done. If Robin hadn’t trained to hold her breath for several minutes, her lungs wouldn’t have allowed her to do this. Luckily, she didn’t waste too much time arriving at the portal as she did so merely a minute later. Without missing a beat, she swam through it. The teleportation process felt so disconnecting and otherworldly it could be considered uncomfortable at this point, but thankfully it was over pretty quickly. 

The sight of the deceased Sea Emperor, among various other friendly fauna and flora, greeted her. She had little time to look around, but it was not like she wanted to see the decaying corpse of the leviathan anyway. The shells of her eggs slowly evaporated as little organisms fed on the chitin. Aside from the deceased Sea Emperor, everything else was thriving.

Little pustules—peach in color—floated everywhere in the water so she proceeded to swim up to a few as she collected them, storing them into a vacuum-sealed glass container that would thankfully suck up the enzyme without a single droplet of water. The glass containers were big, therefore she concluded that two must suffice.

Once she’d done that, she slowly felt a very discomforting pressure in her lungs and so, swam through the portal. As fast as she could, she greedily swam towards the surface. The edges of her vision started to darken and she felt herself slowly slipping away, but Al-An increased the amount of adrenaline to help her out. It gave her enough of a boost to reach the surface where she took big gulps of air, her lungs stinging painfully as she barely kept herself on water. Robin coughed uncontrollably a few times while Al-An proceeded to carefully lift her on land using the anti-gravity beam.

Seeing Robin lay there, weakened, as she caught her breath was a sight that inflicted Al-An discomfort. The Architect shifted his gaze towards the glass containers and he lifted them up, again using the anti-gravity beam to refrain from touching them physically.

“This will suffice,” he stated, analyzing the volumes of both containers. It was barely enough to develop a cure for Robin, assuming the third iteration is the successor. He moved the containers out of focus and gazed upon Robin again, “... thank you, Robin.”

Eventually, Robin caught her breath and got back to her wobbly feet. The water on her skin slowly started to dry but her wetsuit was still soaking, thus giving her a dreading feeling that this was not going to have a favorable solution. “No worries, I hope this will help,” she replied, her voice a bit hoarse. She coughed a few times to fix that. “Let me guess, I need to be completely dry in order for us to get on the ship?”

“Correct,” the Architect bluntly replied, knowing where she went with this but oblivious to the clear issue. The expectant look he gave her as if to urge her to hurry up, almost made Robin trip over her own feet as she proceeded to find a discreet spot. Seeing that she had no plan of answering, he urged, “Why are you experiencing discomfort?”

“Well, maybe because I’m about to undress myself in the middle of nowhere and join you almost completely naked, perhaps?”

“I still do not see why you should feel discomfort. What is there to hide?”

His childlike innocence made Robin trip over a rock and would’ve ended up hitting her head if Al-An hadn’t teleported to her, catching her just in time. His silence only made things more awkward. 

“Thank you,” she grumbled and proceeded to stand up. Not wanting to explain the concept of dignity, she thought perhaps he’d understand once she’d be done with her makeshift clothes. She walked further into the bushes, leaving Al-An by himself.

Confused, the Architect returned to a safe spot beside the water and sat down, watching the sunset as he waited for the complicated, stubborn human.

In the meantime, Robin undressed and collected enough palm leaves to make her makeshift clothes. She desperately hoped that Al-An wouldn’t randomly decide to turn around to look, but she guessed that if he had any sexual curiosity, he would’ve done so already.

Using the leaf stems as sort of a belt, she made sure that the leaves covered all the necessary parts of her lower body. She still ended up making something akin to a skirt, just in case. As for her upper body, she again used the stems to connect and hold everything together until she was completely done two minutes later.

Robin began walking towards Al-An when he turned around to look at her, sensing that she was done. The look he gave her reminded her of a puppy that finally understood the meaning of something but didn’t know why it had to be like that. “You are hiding your dignity,” he voiced out almost as if to enlighten himself, “I understand now.”

“Bingo! Finally,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air in exaggeration. Though she kept any further comments to herself, knowing clearly that they did not experience the urge of protecting their dignity seeing as they had no genitals. That, however, did not make it feel any less uncomfortable.

“You are still experiencing discomfort despite successfully protecting your dignity. Am I the source of your discomfort?”

“What? No, no... I’m just not used to this.”

Much to her dismay, he could see right through her. “There is no need for you to provide me with an excuse,” the Architect made it clear that he held no bias against her with the tone he used, “I can... understand why my presence currently causes you to feel discomfort. Should I leave?”

“No! Just... just don’t give me that puppy look,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

Again, Al-An tilted his head just like a  puppy . “That  puppy  look?” he echoed with sheer confusion underlying his tone, immediately following up with a necessary correction, “But I am not—”

Robin knew where this was going and didn’t allow him to finish. “It’s a way of speech!”

The Architect’s colors suddenly switched to a mixture of magenta and red, but he otherwise kept silent as he peacefully sat there. She decided to join him, keeping her distance but not too far for it to feel awkward. Together, the two watched the sunset as the sky gradually changed into beautiful colors. The night would fall soon, meaning she would have to dry quickly or she would catch herself a cold, which would only further elevate the dire situation she was in.

However, the more time passed, the worse she felt. Nausea was slowly setting in, not enough to make her body expulse the content its stomach harbors, but enough to make it feel consistently uncomfortable. Along with that began a light headache that would certainly settle into a migraine later on. Altogether, her body felt a lot more fragile and her strength was waning.

Al-An also seemed to notice the changes, along with her growing discomfort and looked at her. Oddly enough, he hesitated to speak up as his color maintained a fiery orange. “Your efforts prior were of enough sufficiency to deem this sacrifice unnecessary,” his voice was oddly silent, almost weak, “I fear you might... perish sooner than I calculated.”

To make the situation less grim for both of them, Robin pulled an exaggeration of what would usually be her facial expression whenever insulted. “Excuse me?! You calculated my time of death already?” she exclaimed in faux shock, and luckily, the Architect seemed to detect the sarcasm. “Are you already trying to get rid of me?!”

“Negative, I do not. It was merely a necessary precaution in order to evaluate further action. I would not want to waste time when your life depends on it.”

She flashed him a sad smile and looked at her hand. The green pustules were barely visible and it was an alarming sight, their size barely making a difference. But then again, what did she expect from a weaponized disease? That’s what it was made for—to kill efficiently. “Is... is there any hope for me?”

Al-An hesitated. The answer was not precisely the one which he was about to give, but it was improbable that she would agree to live with a vessel that has sustained major damage. “No.”

Another expected answer, yet it hit her like a bucket of ice.

“What was the reason for your sacrifice?” the Architect asked as he felt like there was more to it, “what was your true drive for this?”

Now it was Robin’s turn to hesitate. The constant discomfort, in addition to the new nervousness, only worsened her nausea and headache. “I... I didn’t want to see you die. I mean—I know you would transfer your consciousness but this,” she almost automatically touched him to emphasize and barely stopped herself in time, “this, to me, is you. That’s what makes you—you.”

An unintentional, disgruntled clicking sound came from the Architect before he silenced it. Whatever he was about to say never came.

“I’m... sorry,” she said and nothing more, understanding that he was displeased with her answer.

And so, the two continued to sit there. The Sun was gone beneath the horizon and it began to be unbearably cold for Robin. She started to rub her hands along her arms to create heat, spreading out the mere droplets of water on her skin that would dry out within a minute or two. It felt disheartening not to have his arms around her as she would soak in his comforting warmth which was, so far, the only regret she felt yet for her decision.

God, a few days prior she would’ve given anything to get the Architect out of her head and now she blatantly sacrificed her whole body for him. She felt like a teenager all over again, but it didn’t feel like actual teenager love. It was more than that. Less sexual, less curious, but more caring, more for the better of the other. Is that what true love felt like?

Unknown to her, Al-An was aware of her thoughts once again.

Chapter Text

The ship safely landed on the landing platform of Al-An's home planet as they returned. He immediately notified his people of acquiring the cure, but also acquiring a new Kharaa mutation along with it, and the received feedback rather varied. Much to his dismay, the majority of his kind wanted the Architect to rid himself of Robin. However, the mistress had an unusual sense of protectiveness for Robin and therefore, gathered the best people to do the job—for Robin and their safety.

The sickly pale and frail human let go of the railing as she held the glass containers tightly, letting Al-An exit ahead of her so the Architect could pick her up to avoid further contamination of other surfaces. Once she had done so, Al-An gently picked her up with his anti-gravity beam before her feet could touch the ground.

The small maintenance robots took care of sanitizing the ship before it would later be disassembled.

Unfortunately, getting to the facility was not as comfortable and private as it would've been preferred. Other Architects kept looking at Robin like she had just grown a second head and their color never changed from red—presumably from the inner conflict of knowing she was infected but also that she sacrificed herself to get the cure. The duo did not pay any heed to that too much though, having tasks of higher importance to worry about.

“This is just as much of a discovery for me as it is for you,” Al-An remarked with a calm voice, “I have not expected this type of reaction from my people.”

She wasn't sure how to perceive it, seeing as though they reacted eerily human. Except, of course, that they posed a good example for humanity. Despite the distress and disagreement some displayed, they never let it out on her or Al-An. “In a good or bad way?”

In the distance stood the mistress as elegantly as always, symbolizing the entry to the facility whilst she waited for them. Her color, unlike any of the other Architects, maintained a steady purple.

“I am uncertain. My people do not trust me enough given the fact that I have failed to contain the bacteria before. They feel as though it is going to happen again.”

“Well then, that's the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong,” Robin replied and suppressed a few coughs, lungs burning in protest as it became harder to breathe for a moment. The green pustules grew in size and quantity.

Al-An kept silent as they approached his mistress, clearly troubled about the quick deterioration rate. He hadn't yet said anything to Robin about his current calculations that showed total organ failure occurring in approximately three days and didn’t know if he ever would. It was too small of a timeframe and Al-An found it hard to maintain hope.

As soon as they approached the mistress, her facade seemed to soften when she glanced upon Robin. It was clear that she had planned to say something, but seeing the green pustules alarmed her so the mistress made space for the duo, “this way.”

Robin was brought to an examination room with the mistress in tow. Three other Architects were at the table already and had everything ready to begin, making Robin feel strangely uncomfortable. Everything looked so uncomfortably familiar to the pictures Ryley had shared from the Disease Research Facility and Robin wondered if she was going to be a witness of their questionable magic. She hoped not—for whatever excuse they'd have.

Eventually, she was carefully lowered to lie flat on the table as Al-An and the mistress joined the others, all surrounding her. Robin’s face reddened as she completely closed the gap between her legs—just in case.

Apparently, but to no surprise, her distress was sensed by everyone in the room. The mistress leaned forward empathically, “do not worry, you are in the best hands. I made sure of that.”

“Will that change anything though?” Robin couldn't help herself but ask, looking at Al-An in emphasis. It felt like a rude question to pose so she hoped they wouldn’t take it offensively.

Suddenly, all the Architects looked at Al-An expectantly and he couldn't suppress the change in color from green to orange—and then to red. “Current calculations show a three-day timeframe before total organ failure,” he offered, masking his shame with professionalism. “Given the fact that all we have are unproven conclusions, it is unlikely we will make it in time.”

“Then we should prepare—" began one of the other unfamiliar Architects, but Al-An interrupted them.

“No, we cannot initiate a transfer without authorization and consent.”

“Authorization has been granted,” said the mistress calmly and then turned her attention to Robin. “Perhaps. It will not hurt to try, will it?”

“Yeah, I know it won’t...” replied Robin uncertainly, her doubt still present. Regardless of their language currently being incomprehensible to Robin, she could tell it was nothing positive given the fact that every Architect's color in the room momentarily matched Al-An's. Was her fate already set in stone? What would Sam say if she were to join her this early?

Al-An sharply followed her thoughts and decided to breach the subject on the spot. “Robin, what would you like us to do if your current body ceases all primary functions?”

The question only further induced panic in Robin and it suddenly felt like someone threw her naked into a pile of snow. “Would you let me die if I wanted that?”

“Yes.”

The sick, frail human hesitated as she fidgeted with her hands. Robin loved her sister and was ready to give anything just to see her once more, but it felt wrong to die this early. She refused to. And she was sure that Sam, wherever she was right now, thought so, too. “I... I don't want to die, no.”

For an unfathomable reason Al-An couldn’t understand, he felt relieved. “Very well,” he said before he turned to his people, nodding at them.

“But... I-I didn't prove my worth—” Robin's chest heaved as she suppressed more coughs, interrupting her sentence. It was then that she saw Al-An talking to another Architect, red in color and tense, “to deserve becoming one of you…”

It was miserable to lie there. The table was cold, the lights were too bright which only strengthening the headache and her body felt incredibly fragile. Robin wasn't used to this, wasn't used to her body falling apart while she's aware and she grew to despise it.

Al-An's presence in her mind was the only source left to harness strength from.

“You have proven enough,” spoke the mistress for the collective of them. Somehow, her voice was as soft and caring as a mother's, “it would be foolish of us not to repay you for your efforts—let alone for saving one of our own.”

Robin offered the mistress a smile, excitement and gratitude bubbling up inside her chest, “thank you.”

With that, the mistress proceeded to leave to take care of other duties as she carried the enzyme away. The glass containers had been disinfected so it was safe to touch now, ready to be given to the abundance of Architects in need.

The components for Robin's new vessel were being prepared in case of an emergency as the responding Architects ensured the cybernetic compatibility. Such a grave mistake as incompatibility would be unforgivable.

Just as another Architect carried cables to the table and was about to remove Robin's makeshift clothes to hook her up to various monitors, Al-An unintentionally let out a low, threatening clicking sound.

“That will not be necessary,” he said as he felt a sudden, illogical urge to protect a concept of no concern to him—but her. It was a strange and primal feeling, one that was out of his control and it was alarming. He had long lost the idea of what was happening to his senses and grew to disdain the feeling of this inferiority. “I am already monitoring her vitals.”

The issued Architect retrieved her arms in a surrendering manner, surprised of the new behavior that Al-An displayed. She decided not to delve too far into it, knowing better than to get in between an Architect and someone they protected dearly. Instead, she only hooked Robin up to nutrients and fluids that now entered through her veins—similarly to human IV drips. “Very well, I apologize.”

Al-An respectfully deemed her unworthy of any more of his current attention as he was handed a sample of the mutated strain that he had requested before. “Thank you. Do we have a sample of the previous Kharaa strain?”

“Yes,” replied the one who had just given him the sample, “we've also prepared the enzyme sample for analysis.”

“Good, you shall hand them over,” Al-An headed over to a terminal, to which an alienate piece of technology was connected to not too far from the table. Four empty vials were elevated and the Architect poured the sample of the mutated strain into the third vial before he received the other samples and poured the original strain into the first vial. The enzyme was lastly poured into the second and then these vials were lowered inside the machinery. After a minute or two, Al-An received rather grim readings from the terminal.

“Too many attributes have been changed,” he said, turning around to face the other Architects as they looked at him expectantly, “I am uncertain how we will make it in time given that this particular strain kills its host within two days—not three.”

“We should tell her,” said the female Architect from before, “hours have passed and we have not yet begun.”

“I am aware. However, with this revelation we would only induce further stress which would exhaust her body.”

The receiving Architect's colors momentarily changed to orange. “Very well. You may transfer the data to nearby terminals then.”

Al-An returned to his terminal as the others worked right beside him on their terminals and started typing right away, sending the readings to his current coworkers. He decided to tackle the issue of compatibility first—seeing as the mutated strain attacked certain areas of an organism that the enzyme did not cover. “In order to achieve paramount efficiency, it would be best for each of us to work on their own prototype.”

“Affirmative,” said the fourth Architect who spoke up for the first time. Robin concluded that he must be of the silent type, talking only if necessary—which resembled Al-An when she first met him. “It would be wise to take a sample of the specimen's organism in order to make sure the antidote does not have any devastating repercussions.”

“No, that is unnecessary. The system is able to perfectly replicate a human's organism and run simulations accurately.”

“Perhaps, but they could have applied an array of various modifications since the last time we have had a live specimen."

“Negative, I have been able to analyze their organism while my sentience was stored inside her cerebral cortex and my assessments show no significant changes.”

“Very well, then.”

And so, the four Architects set to work—all of them tackling the primary issue that was compatibility. Robin kept lying there on the table, slowly falling asleep and feeling her body grow weaker as the headache persisted. Al-An seemed to notice and dimmed the lights, as well as duplicating the amount of endorphin rushing through her blood to help her with the headache.

Robin smiled to herself, cherishing the presence in her mind. “Thank you.”

Her incredibly soft but weak voice had a calming effect on Al-An’s turbulent disposition. All the persistent issues that troubled his mind ceased to be of any importance, suddenly as small as a grain of sand—lending his vital mind clarity to focus.

The Architects kept working relentlessly as they attempted to solve the important issue—with Al-An lacking behind as the millennium he laid dormant made him inexperienced in such a situation, but that caused him to take a much more mindful approach. It was a lot more complicated than it should’ve been as they were forced to balance the attributes for the enzyme to target the entire area of effect without leaving any trace of the bacterium. Changing one attribute changed the other while changing the other one changed another—creating a difficult task of maintaining the desired balance.

The entire process took the four Architects about five hours to complete, however, they hoped that any future changes wouldn’t have an impact on the compatibility attributes.

Somewhere in the meanwhile, Robin fell asleep—embracing the blissful numbness gladly. Only later would they discover that that was a mistake because Alterra thought outside of the box, of course.

It was well past midnight when Al-An felt a surge within the network. Thousands of resurrected and reawakened souls reached out like tendrils across the network—starving for data to complete their fragmented sentience, for the other countless souls as they sought the comfort that brought their collectiveness. They greedily latched onto every piece of information. However, as it was to be expected, they eventually weren’t spared from the various opinions about Al-An and Robin, but the majority of them were grateful toward the fragile human. Knowing of her condition, their tendrils reached further, scattering every bit of information to help the human recover. And if not, they would welcome her with open arms into their network—because as disclosed and reserved as the Architects may seem, they weren't heartless.

Al-An felt a strange sense of proudness and gratitude, knowing his dire position could've easily zeroed Robin's chance of successful integration. Not only that, but now he had successfully redeemed herself—with Robin's help, of course—and the long-accumulated self-blaming and -loathing vanished. Peace was so close to reach and it made him feel desperate, yearning for order and control to resume.

Over the next few hours, the Architect scientists grew tired and returned home to enter hibernation. Each one of them said their goodbyes to Al-An as he stayed behind with the frail human, refusing to leave her side in case of an emergency. The mere imagination of her dying alone on the table while he’d be in his quarters was a terrific one, not to mention how he’d feel their connection disappear forever—never to be regained again.

As inconvenient as emotions could be most of the time, they still proved to be useful. If correctly interpreted, they could aid in avoiding a certain outcome. One just had to know how to deal with them—and that not in a way as to negate them.

The tired Architect kept working relentlessly, altering attributes of the cure to eliminate all that is left uncovered of the bacteria. It was a much stronger specimen than its origin and Al-An found himself wondering if the humans had even thought of developing a cure. Not that it would matter much except for shaping his own opinion whether the humans were too confident or still had a sense for precaution, but still.

Not long after and Al-An was left with no other choice but to rest—having almost collapsed on multiple occasions. He checked over the four prototypes to make some assessments and ran a simulation of each. The results made his semi-frail composure take another hit as it turned out that the current prototypes would kill the host, being faked into “thinking” that the entire organism is the target simply because the core mutation merged with the core organism.

It took all the willpower Al-An had left not to display his mounting distress as he sat down beside the table—finding comfort in knowing that he could still reach her mind. He was beyond exhausted; the overwhelming and new emotions taking a toll on his psyche.

Al-An eventually questioned how he became so dependent on a frail, mortal living being. Ever since he merged with her sentience, everything he knew and found comfort in slowly fell apart. He had never opened up to someone this quickly and always kept things to himself, but Robin went against it all. It was one illogical mess and he was left uncertain how to feel about it. Even more so, he was left uncertain as to what it that made him be this way.

But somewhere, just somewhere in the depths of his being, he already knew the answer.

Much to Al-An's dismay, he was awakened two hours later by a rough, dry bout of coughing. He bolted upright, mind hazy and almost stumbling as his exhausted form struggled to keep up with the instinctive reaction. Keeping a safe distance, he watched as Robin couldn’t contain her symptoms anymore.

Dread washed over Al-An as he realized that her condition had worsened instead of having slowed down while she had slept. How much time did that remove from their insufficient timeframe?

With half-lidded, teary eyes, Robin looked at the Architect and flashed him a weak, apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, I—I couldn't hold it in anymore,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“There is no need to apologize,” he replied in a soft voice, his demeanor caring but secretive.

Robin, as always, could see right through him. It puzzled Al-An every time and he wondered just how such inferior beings could read them this well. “There’s something you're not telling me...”

The Architect hesitated, another inconvenient feature he acquired from Robin, as he weighed his options. “All four prototypes turned out to be invalid... and there is little possibility they will ever not be.”

“What do you mean?”

“This particular strain merges with your system which would eventually cause the antibacterial agent to attack your entire organism—its target unclear and lost amongst the rest.”

“So...” began Robin and it was obvious that it wasn’t easy for her. She valued her human body more than anything, despite its inconveniences, and to know that she might not live in it for long anymore made her feel strangely apathetic and disconnected. The only physical component that made her Robin Ayou would be lost; and so would the traces of her ancestors, never to be continued. “So, I'm not going to live as a human anymore?”

“Unlikely,” he replied bitterly, “but that is not an excuse to cease my efforts.”

Robin flashed him a smile, one so lovingly it caused his core temperature to rise. There was something incredibly special about that woman and he didn't know what—but whatever that was, it was slowly driving him crazy. “I know, I wouldn't expect any less of you,” she stated, “just... just don't neglect yourself. I can tell you’re tired.”

“Not unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“No, it's not the end of the world if I lose this fight... no matter how much I’d like to keep my body. Things could be a lot worse, therefore I'm grateful enough to be gifted another chance at life—at eternal life, even,” she tried again, her voice straining, “so please, do me that one favor.”

Reluctantly, Al-An nodded, “very well.”

And with that, the tired Architect sat back down and gradually fell asleep. He, too, embraced the nothingness that hibernation brought with it.

“Good night,” whispered Robin, smiling to herself.

Too tired and too close to entering hibernation, Al-An simply repeated, “good night.”

Once the Architect fell asleep, his colors fading away completely. It looked so eerie and it caused slight discomfort as she lied there, unable to fall back asleep. Not that it was a good idea anyway, seeing as she felt a lot worse than before and began coughing up blood. She was dying and there was nothing she could do.

So as the hours passed by, she coughed more and more until her hand was too bloody to hide. Her temperature sky-rocketed and the headache was certainly a migraine now. Her body shook more as her strength continued to wane. It was the weakest she’d ever felt yet.

However, the force field in the doorway suddenly deactivated and the silent Architect walked through—his body language stiff as if afraid to get caught. That and the fact that shackles immediately made her immobile was enough for Robin to conclude that something was not right.

“What are you here for?” she asked, her voice betraying her emotion. The shackles were tight and she couldn’t escape, no matter how hard Robin yanked.

“To cure the deadly virus, of course,” the Architect replied cryptically. Technically, he was not wrong but his way of wording the sentence only further confirmed her suspicions.

The Architect ignored her suspicious behavior for now as he deemed it harmless, completely unaware of the unique bond she’d forged with Al-An over time. He felt the human's gaze on him constantly as he sifted through every detail on the terminal to make sure he didn't miss anything. After all, it had to kill the bacterium effectively—his efforts would be in vain if it did otherwise. Once he was done with that, the Architect initiated the fabrication process of the antibacterial agent until he proudly held the vial. He then turned around and slowly walked towards the frail human, looking at her bloody hand in concern.

“This should help you,” he said in a soft voice, attempting to convince and calm the tense human.

“No, I don't want it!” Robin replied, yanking her limbs more desperately this time. Tears suddenly blurred her vision as she eyed the nearing Architect with fear, unwilling to die this way, “you’re going to kill me, aren't you?”

“Killing you is not my objective, but I fear that there is no other possible solution,” the Architect admitted, his color momentarily switching to red as he did so. He avoided bumping into Al-An, knowing the other wouldn’t agree with this if awakened. “I am merely interested in rendering the new mutation ineffective.”

Much to Robin’s dismay, the Architect was too close for comfort now as he readied the vial for injection.

“Get the hell away from me right now!” Robin raised her voice and reached out to wake Al-An’s presence desperately. As if poking a malnourished, sleeping lion with a stick, the presence in her mind grew stronger as its owner awoke.

Al-An immediately stood upright in less than a second, looking at Robin first. In a matter of mere milliseconds, he spotted the fear-stricken expression, her shackled limbs, and the bloody hand, so he instantly whipped around to locate the source. He was surprised to find the quiet Architect right beside her with a vial in his grip, needle too close for comfort.

But before the other Architect even had the chance to react, Al-An tackled the offender against the wall as he protectively shielded Robin and ignored the harsh sound of the vial shattering into thousands of pieces, spilling the content. Seething, blinding rage was all that Al-An felt at the moment as he loomed over the fallen Architect.

“You are out of your mind, Al-An!” the other Architect protested, scrambling to get off the ground but unsuccessful so far, “this is exactly why we negate our emotions when they become too much!”

“Emotions are my least concern right now,” Al-An voice was cold and heartless as he neared the offender dangerously, “but your attempted termination without authorization is currently my most significant concern.”

The other Architect scoffed and stood up successfully, his tail hitting the wall as he wanted to avoid angering the enraged Architect further. “What difference does it make? The human body will succumb either way. We are only wasting our precious resources by delaying the inevitable.”

“The only current waste of resources is your continued, mistaken existence,” Al-An said without missing a beat, clearly disgusted at the Architect’s behavior as a fellow scientist. Who knew what other opportunities that inefficient scum had ruined. “Get out.”

“You are delusional,” spat the other Architect in return, “I expected better of you than to fall for a frail human. Look at you now, truly a waste of excellent potential!”

Al-An clicked threateningly, taking a step closer. “I will not repeat my words,” he growled, completely unaffected by the other’s rude words. There was no significance in engaging in the other’s attempt to provoke, given the fact that it was merely a symbol of weakness.

The other Architect kept quiet, seeing that his actions did not affect Al-An in any way so he headed toward the entrance. He watched Al-An like a frightened deer caught in headlights before he eventually retreated and disappeared.

Without a bout of hesitation, Al-An reactivated the force field, deactivated the shackles and headed to Robin. Seeing her, despite current circumstances, calmed his rage and helped him stay composed. “Are you well?” he asked, emotions thankfully returning to his charming voice.

“Yeah... I'm fine, j-just a bit shaken up,” Robin replied as her frail form shook from exhaustion and the aftereffect of fear. The mere sight made the Architect want to embrace her in a tight hug until she felt safe, “thank you for stopping him. I was... I was scared t-that he was going to kill me and just leave me here.”

“He would not have, but that does not justify his action,” he remarked as his gaze shifted towards her bloody hand again, trying to locate the source. It took him about a second to do so until he got an inadequate reading, though that was to be expected—more or less.

“I... I never thought I’d see you get violent,” Robin’s small and frail giggle melted all the remaining rage away, thus some of Al-An, too, “it doesn’t suit you.”

“I am aware, but it was necessary. I apologize.”

The sudden deactivation of the force field suddenly diverted the duo’s attention to the entrance, seeing as the other two scientists have returned. Judging from their constantly orange and red color cycles, they’ve heard of the events that had just unfolded. They perked with interest as Al-An unintentionally shielded Robin.

“We do not have much time if we wish to cure the bacteria while keeping the human alive,” the female Architect spoke up first, her demeanor almost apologetic as if she was somehow to blame, “is she perhaps afraid of us?”

Al-An took note of his unintended protectiveness over Robin and his color momentarily cycled between orange and magenta. “No, she might display distrust but she will be fine. We shall continue undisturbed.”

“Understandable.”

Now reduced to three, the Architects began anew. They kept some of the previous properties but all the base attributes had to be reviewed and changed to fix the persistent issue. The mutation’s stem cell had the same properties as a stem cell in every healthy organism, therefore they had to find the difference somewhere—even if it was just a minuscule snippet of DNA.

In the meantime, Robin continuously laid on the table and slowly but surely began accepting her fate. Her body had sustained enough damage to prevent her from living a normal, healthy life beyond this point. Nonetheless, her hope never dimmed. It was a beacon amidst the darkness that engulfed her more and more with each passing hour—the migraine strengthened, the pressure in her lungs became almost unbearable and her body temperature refused to cool down. Al-An couldn’t keep forcing her body to produce more endorphins as it exhausted her body further.

Her chances looked grim and there was no denying that—but no one was going to concede with that failure of an Architect’s ideas.

Not even an hour passed when they could feel the sentience of said Architect fade into nothingness, purged from the world to never be retrieved again. In his stead awoke another Architect, one who would better not repeat history. Their presence was strong, persistent, and stubborn—the ideal ingredients for a promising living being.

And finally, after two additional hours, the hard-working Architects found the issue with the help of the network and isolated the only piece of DNA that differentiated the mutation’s stem cell from the one of a healthy, normal organism. However, Robin’s condition slipped into critical as she began to have trouble breathing, her temperature kept rising and her head felt as if it was about to explode. It was an excruciating amount of pain as she whimpered and moaned in pain, clutching at her head desperately. And the most unnerving of all; Al-An felt their connection weakening as she approached certain death.

They were so close—too close to be giving up—and all that they’d need is to create a valid specimen that would repair the damage in the victim’s organism. So close in sight, so close to reach but yet unreachable. If only they had more time.

Cure be damned. This was a failure.

Al-An rushed to her side, followed by the two other Architects, as Robin grew alarmingly weaker by the second. It was a painful sight to witness—one that would’ve easily been avoided if only he hadn’t let the frail human sacrifice herself.

“W-why are y’all... looking so grim?” Robin asked weakly, coughing into her fist as blood trickled down the edges of her mouth, “you tried... your best. There’s no reason t-to be... like that...”

The exchange between the three Architects was silent, the next step of action as clear as day—get everything ready for transfer. The message reached further into the network than intended, and those who cared for the frail human being either mourned or were angered by their incapability to help Robin in time. In the meantime, the mistress herself rushed to the transfer room and waited, desperately hoping that nothing else would go wrong.

“Whether or not we tried our best does not matter beyond this point. You are dying and that is the one thing we swore not to let happen,” Al-An replied almost aloof as he needed a clear mind. The steadily-growing inner turmoil he felt would only cloud his logical judgment. “I apologize sincerely, Robin.”

“There’s... n-nothing to apologize for...” she said with a weak smile, involuntarily closing her eyelids when they became too heavy. The comforting numbness that engulfed her washed away all her emotions and she wondered if this is what dying felt like.

“Robin?” Al-An’s voice echoed, sounding so uncharacteristically broken that it shattered her heart into pieces.

“I’m... still here...”

Al-An almost felt his resistance break in half as he hurriedly picked up the frail, dying human with his anti-gravity beam, carrying her to the transfer room as quickly as his legs could take him. The connection to her faded more with each passing second, the feeling of loneliness growing stronger. It was frightening.

They arrived at the designated room in less than twenty seconds and thankfully, everything was ready for data transfer. An Architect stood in front of a nearby terminal and initiated the transfer as soon as Al-An held up the frail human being for transfer. It never felt so painfully slow in the entirety of his existence.

But then, their connection severed.

NEVER TO BE REGAINED [?]

Chapter Text

There was pure nothingness. Empty, dark space with no input of sensory perceptions or fluctuating emotions—just a barren land of nothing. Absolutely nothing. During that moment, Robin simply stopped existing and perished from the world of the living.

That is until everything returned all at once. It was so overwhelming that she collapsed, experiencing a sensory overload as her sluggish brain struggled to catch up with everything. But before she could hit the ground, powerful arms caught her and helped Robin steady herself. They kept her close to their body as a precautious measure, worried for her as she groaned in pain.

“All systems and vitals stabilizing, calibrating,” an unfamiliar, strange voice rang out, “she may experience further difficulties in the meantime, but that excludes any more sensory overloads. Her entity has an array of strange reactions to our systems.”

“Was her passing the cause of such?” another voice rang out, this time a familiar one. The mistress.

“Correct. All primary systems had momentarily shut down.”

Robin’s mind was hazy and slow, yet not fully accustomed to the new vessel and its alien features. It took her a mere second to realize that she now possessed four senses instead of six, and that unsettled her more than necessary. There was no smell or taste, no lungs to supply with oxygen or a mouth to eat with. She couldn’t entirely comprehend what was happening, still recovering from the sensory overload that completely incapacitated her.

The edges of her vision transitioned into a smooth gradient of blur as Robin adjusted her vision to look upon the Architect who helped her, so unbearably close that she felt her core temperature rise. Dependent on the emotion she felt, the edges of her vision changed hue. It changed to orange the moment she realized the Architect was Al-An, involuntarily receiving mental readings of his vitals in clear detail as she felt every fiber of his being—not to mention of everything else around her. She could sense the other two Architects in the room, also receiving mental readings of their vitals but not as detailed. It was puzzling not to see or find her human body in Al-An’s vicinity because Robin clearly believed to be in an Architect’s vessel right now, so if she wasn’t, why was he holding her? What was going on?

It was then that Al-An decided to speak up, noting that she was calm enough to be talked to. “Robin?” he asked, voice soft but unintentionally fragile because he felt awfully worried about the display of struggles Robin experienced. It was their first attempt at integrating human sentience into an Architect body, therefore they had little to no former experience to rely on. Not that human sentience was any different to theirs, it simply wasn’t used to their biomechanical systems. “Are you all right?”

Surprisingly, his voice seemed to calm Robin’s frantic mind as she attempted to balance herself. It was a strange and discomforting feeling to suddenly be quadrupedal, but luckily her hybrid brain quickly caught up to that and the discomfort vanished. She instinctively stomped with one hind leg repeatedly, as if to test it. “I don’t know, everything feels so... unusual,” she slightly flinched in surprise when Robin heard the foreign language coming from her and Al-An almost let go, misunderstanding her reaction. “Is this a dream? Am I... dead?”

“Your human counterpart is,” Al-An replied as he took a step backward to leave her some space, seeing that she maintained her balance just fine now. “It may take some time for you to adjust to the various, possibly overwhelming features but you are alive.”

“Systems fully calibrated,” said the unfamiliar voice again and Robin looked towards its source, spotting an unfamiliar Architect standing idly behind a terminal as they monitored her readings. They looked back at Robin, saying, “do not overwhelm your systems for the next few hours. Your entity has yet to adjust to its new storage medium.”

Robin nodded and returned her attention to herself as the other Architect left. She looked down at her big, heavy arms and inspected them, seeing her own colors fluctuate like thunder through her otherwise dark green skin. “Wow, this is incredible,” she exclaimed in excitement and awe, her body now feeling strong and durable. “I can’t believe it!”

Joy emanated from Al-An and the mistress, plus several others across the network as they sensed her excited presence finally join their network. The sudden realization hit her like a truck the moment she grew aware of the thousands of other souls in the network, her hybrid brain finally establishing a connection. She was, obviously, new to the sensation of being part of the collective network, feeling strange when the entire network felt almost like a singular entity.

Despite that, she still felt different. Distinct. It was just like Al-An had said, one of us and all of us.

And the best part was that she still felt his presence in her mind. A fragment of his that was now part of her forever. She cherished the presence, more than relieved that it hadn’t been lost. It was dormant most of the time, but it would awaken as soon as needed—like a guardian angel.

Their mistress whisked a few steps forward. “It is a special honor to have you join our network, Robin. I hope you know you are very welcome,” she said with professional pride, “As you may have noticed, several memory fragments might be lost because of your passing amidst the transfer. However, as far as I can tell it should be nothing of significance.”

“Thank you very much!” Robin’s excitement grew further, elevating her pulse. The display of human behavior and emotion in an Architect’s vessel was an interesting sight to behold. “But no, it’s not. Humans easily forget things anyway, so it’s not like I’d be able to notice.”

“Thankfully, that should be of no issue anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s, uh, great... as if I didn’t have enough memories to torment me every night already. Might as well have a couple new ones join the collection,” she mumbled, displeased, and walked off the pedestal towards four neatly aligned pillars. They were identical to the ones Robin saw when she built the vessel for Al-An before he turned them into his six trademark arms. “Are they... are they for me?”

It was a ridiculous question, that much she knew. But Robin had to make sure, feeling as though she’d be rude by just obtaining them.

“Yes,” replied the mistress as she prepared to leave, standing elegantly in the entrance, “you shall suit them to your needs as you please. But if you will excuse me now, I have got to go. It was a delight meeting you, Robin.”

And so, the mistress left. Robin immediately looked at Al-An, confused. “Why is she talking as if I’m the mistress instead?”

“Her rank does not define the treatment we receive. She views respect with high regard and believes that it should be reserved for everyone.”

Impressed by the mistress’ kindhearted nature, Robin’s color turned purple with a slight tint of blue. “So... despite the hierarchy you have, you’re still all equal to each other?”

“Not precisely. Equality varies in the importance of certain situations, but normally we are.”

Robin found herself astonished and turned to look at the four objects, effortlessly causing them to circle her as they materialized into the six inorganic arms that Al-An always carried around. She flexed them individually just to get a feeling for them. “Humans could learn a lot from you,” it was a remark that strangely didn’t surprise the other Architect. “But anyway, as far as I can tell my body is still infected. Can I be of any help?”

“Given the fact that you have acquired new knowledge upon transfer, you now know nearly as much as I do, which qualifies your capability to work alongside me.”

“Wow, really?” Robin asked while sifting through all the information stored in her mind. She immediately stumbled upon system logs indicating new data packet transfers, of which there were four—science, astronomy, biology, and xenology. “I now know nearly as much as you do? Isn’t that... a little unfair?”

“It is not. It is merely evidence for the fact that I had been stored away for far too long.”

That sounded painfully fair. She couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve felt like for Al-An to realize that he lacked behind, given the fact that he was a lead scientist whose contributions were highly valued. Or perhaps he didn’t mind it as much, simply feeling displeased that he had to catch up. “And how did you know what to pick for me?”

“I had gathered enough data to conclude your interests when I was still trapped inside your human body.”

“Should I... know what else you’d been able to gather?” Robin had a strange feeling that he saw more than necessary.

“If you would like to,” Al-An bluntly offered, surprising her. He either didn’t see more than necessary or concluded that it was nothing to be ashamed of. Robin desperately hoped it was the former. “Although if it is of any comfort to you, most of it was not intentional.”

“That... doesn’t really make me feel any better, but I surely hope it wasn’t intentional!” she exclaimed, her colors cycling between orange and purple. Seeing as the other two Architects left, Robin also made her way out to the hallway and Al-An began following her.

“Are you certain you wish to help us? I do not know how you will react upon looking at your deceased counterpart.”

“Yes, of course! I mean... I-I don’t know either, but it will be fine. It has to be,” uncertainty still lingered behind her words, and knowing that Al-An would speak up about it, she added, “I won’t allow this to stop me from helping you. I want to do this.”

“Very well,” he said as the presence in her mind became more present—ready to interfere if the threat of a sensory overload was imminent.

Robin replied no more and stepped aside to make room for Al-An to go ahead. Said Architect tilted his head at that, not understanding the gesture. When Robin then nudged her head in the direction of the examination room, he finally did and went first while she trailed after him. The closer they got to the room; the larger her insecurity grew. Her hybrid heart was beating faster and faster as she could sense everything that was in that room—the ability alone frightening her. It was an otherworldly sensation to sense her sick, decaying body.

When the duo arrived at the entrance, the other two Architects awaited them with Robin’s pale corpse laying on the table. Robin immediately felt the room dropping to freezing temperatures, unable to take in the sight of her dead body. It hit her like a ton of bricks, causing her stress levels to spike drastically as she frantically retreated. “I-I can’t... fuck. I didn’t know it was that bad...” the statement was false, therefore she continued, “I mean, I did, but...”

The red color, in combination with her mounting stress levels, was alarming. Al-An notified the other two to start ahead while he’d take care of Robin. He was at a loss for what to do once he covered the gruesome sight with his torso, fearing she will experience a sensory overload if this continued.

“I would highly advise you to wait somewhere else. It is unwise to let you work when your reaction is this severe,” he advised hesitantly, studying the distressed Architect and weighing all available options. It was strange to lack the courage to do something, even more so to do something he knew would be appreciated by both of them. He rarely ever felt insecure, and that number seemed to increase ever since he’d met Robin.

“N-no, just give me a minute,” her voice was shaky whilst she hugged herself in an attempt to calm down. “I’m sorry, it’s just... I never thought I’d see myself dead. It’s not in our nature.”

“I understand, do not worry,” Al-An reassured with a calm, sentimental voice and noted with interest how that decreased her stress levels. “Why is it that my voice calms you?”

Flustered at the direct question, Robin’s heart sped up and she hesitated. Lying, especially now as an Architect, was out of option. “I... well, I-I might have caught feelings,” she stuttered, looking at the ground in shame as her color cycled to magenta, “for you.”

Al-An kept silent as he analyzed the feeling she was referring to. It was completely unnecessary, but it was a precautious measure for him on a personal level. However, Al-An was able to make the decision before Robin even had the time to feel insecure due to the lack of an answer as he closed the gap between them by touching her forehead with his. The intensity of their emotions doubled as their horns made contact, truly feeling connected for the first time—as if they had merged with one another.

Much to the Architect’s relief, Robin welcomed the action dearly and her stress levels almost dropped to non-existence as they simply stood there, enjoying the secluded and sensual connection whilst their colors synced. She eventually clicked affectionally, craving for more time as they’d have to get back to work sooner than the two of them liked. Al-An returned the action almost shily before the two reluctantly broke apart. Losing that unique connection left the two Architects craving for its return.

“That... felt amazing,” Robin murmured in a soft voice, unintentionally melting Al-An on the spot as they stayed close. “I don’t even know what to compare it to... it’s so—unique.”

“Yes, it is,” he replied, demeanor shy and reserved. There was an odd feeling accompanying the thought of what had just transpired due to his inexperience in displaying affection towards another, but nonetheless, it was a sensation he endeared.

“Definitely better than anything I’ve ever experienced before,” Robin mumbled, and reluctantly added, “especially with someone like you…”

Al-An’s color switched to magenta momentarily, flattered to receive such admission. Their foreheads momentarily touched again, the sensual connection returning just a moment to exchange affection.

With that, the duo re-entered the examination room whilst Al-An’s presence was strong in her mind as a reminder that he’d be there if things got overwhelming, but thankfully this time it was easier to gaze upon her dead counterpart. It was still, however, pretty discomforting.

The other two Architects had progressed further as they steadily worked on the process of organ regeneration—which was frustratingly easier than developing the rest of the new enzyme was, given the fact that they only had to find a way how to boost, expand and improve it.

So, Robin got to the terminal which the fourth Architect had used before, transferring all the necessary, updated data onto it. She gathered the hormones and stem cells of different species that were known for advanced organ regeneration, researching which hormones kick-started the process and which stem cells were required to regenerate all the targeted organs.

Al-An and the other two Architects took either the same approach or extracted certain DNA fragments that gave one the ability to regenerate organs before they would work on improving its attributes. That approach was slightly more successful and efficient, seeing as Al-An was already working on its attributes within an hour.

For Robin’s approach it took approximately ten minutes more to complete for one of the other Architects and for Robin, it took twenty more due to her inexperience. Although everyone in the room agreed that her logic and approach was impressive for someone who just turned Architect a few hours ago. It made Al-An experience a strange sense of fondness.

Within two hours, the enzyme was a success. Each of the four Architects ran simulations and all of them turned out to be effective despite a few differences. Much to Al-An’s surprise, his prototype was the most effective while the least effective turned out to be the male Architect’s, having made a few mistakes Robin hasn’t. All of their data, in disregard for their efficiency, had been documented and uploaded to the network before they gathered around the table to discuss.

“Given the fact that this is Robin’s body, I believe we shall let her inject the antibacterial agent she developed,” Al-An proposed in all honesty, feeling as though that was the right thing.

“We developed it. I didn’t create the entire sample all on my own, after all,” Robin corrected because she didn’t want to be credited for someone else’s work, “but yes, if that’s how we’ll proceed then I have nothing to defy.”

“Very well,” said one of the other Architects as she retreated to hook up the dead body in order to monitor it. It was a rather... discomforting process as some cables were invasive, but Robin decided to stay silent and let the Architect finish the necessary preparations. Once said Architect stood at a terminal, she waited idly. “You may begin now.”

And so, Robin attached a needle to the vial before slowly nearing the arm of her dead counterpart. One of her inorganic arms grabbed a gentle hold of the corpse’s biceps before the needle was carefully inserted, ejecting the enzyme into the still bloodstream. Robin stepped back, still holding the vial as the four of them watched the pustules disappear gradually.

“Organ regeneration initiated, very well. It is, however, slowed as the organism is dying.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Robin stayed silent as she gazed upon the corpse. Now that this was complete, what was going to happen to it? What would she allow to happen to it?

Al-An walked over to her side as he sensed her conflict, wanting to lend some comfort. “What would you like to do with your dead counterpart?”

The questioned Architect contemplated his question carefully, knowing very well that once she made her decision, there was no turning back. She reached through the network, gathering all the outdated information on human anatomy and biology. The last time they had a specimen was in the medieval times which was plenty of time for things to have changed by now, but it didn’t feel entirely right to give it up for science. Neither did burying the body. “I don’t know.”

The other two Architect slowly prepared to leave, storing the enzyme samples away for replication and published remaining data that could prove to be useful someday. Once they did, the duo stood at the exit as they looked at Al-An and Robin.

“It has been a pleasure working with you, Robin Ayou,” said the quieter Architect, “We apologize that we could not develop the antibacterial agent in time.”

“Likewise,” Robin replied, looking at the duo, “and don’t worry, it’s... fine. There simply wasn’t enough time... but at least I didn’t die in vain. If we’ll ever have the misfortune of meeting this Kharaa strain again, we can fight it off immediately.”

“Very well, we agree.”

“We hope the need to work together will arise sometime again,” admitted the other Architect now, her voice sincere, “until then, farewell.”

And just like that, Al-An and Robin were alone as the other two Architects walked down the hallway and left. Robin went silent once more and fixed her gaze upon her dead counterpart, contemplating the obvious and wasting time. If only it was easier to let go of something that was a big part of her. Something that defined her.

“Would you like to be transferred back to your original body?” Al-An suggested carefully, not particularly certain how to deal with an emotional Architect like her. Though he thought it would be best to suggest the most favorable solution.

“What? No!” she exclaimed, confusing the Architect. “I don’t want to defy the laws of nature. My body died to natural selection and I wouldn’t want to go against that.”

“Then why are you conflicted?”

“Because... this is what makes me Robin Ayou. This is most of what makes me... me. No matter what my decision will be, despite already knowing which, it feels like I’ve lost a big part of myself.”

“To me, Robin Ayou is right beside me—alive and thriving. We do not see a vessel as part of ourselves, only as what harbors our sentience and allows us to interact with this realm.”

“I know, but that’s what applies to you—Architects. To us humans, our bodies define us because we all possess our own, unique DNA. It’s part of us. If someone hears my name, they’ll think of my face and then my personality. We use our appearance to remember and assign.”

The Architect perked up at the mention of DNA, his color cycling to a mixture of green and purple. “Would you like us to extract your DNA, then?”

Robin suddenly hesitated as her color fluctuated between multiple in a matter of seconds, a discomforting feeling dawning upon her. “Something tells me I should not ask questions about the procedure...”

“Correct, but it is of high importance to you, so I see this to be the best solution,” Al-An admitted, tilting his head for no apparent reason. It still melted her on the spot though, which seemed to be what the Architect was aiming for as his color cycled to purple.

“Okay, then... I... I’ll allow my body to be used for scientific purposes,” she eventually said before turning red, adding, “but if I hear of any inappropriate experiments, I will change my mind immediately.”

Al-An was troubled at the display of distrust from Robin but understood well. “If you display such distrust, it may be better not to give permission at all.”

“No, I’m just being cautious after... after that one Architect tried to kill me. I don’t blame our kind for this, believe me. They’re really friendly people as far as I can see, but I’d like to be given the time to build that trust.”

“Very well,” he replied, finding that she proved a valid point in the end. He then proceeded to pick up the dead body carefully, holding it close. “You can meet me at my quarters if you would like. I have to bring this body to our research facility.”

“You want me to share your quarters with you?” Robin asked, surprised that the Architect wanted her around in a place meant for productivity and solitude. She hadn’t expected this from Al-An.

“Yes, please,” he answered and leaned forward as Robin came closer, their foreheads touching as the secluded, sensual connection returned. Their colors synced once again, and the two clicked affectionally, now completely unaware of the corpse between them.

“All right,” she agreed lovingly and sensed his curiosity spiking once she added, “but instead of meeting in our quarters, we’ll meet at the landing platform. I have a surprise planned for us.”

Given the fact that Al-An had no idea why they’d meet up at the landing platform, except that it wasn’t for efficient purposes, the Architect kept silent. His curiosity remained palpable through the connection, but her continued ignorance was a clear sign she wouldn’t provide any information. It was displeasing, to say the least.

The duo then reluctantly broke apart and headed out of the facility together as she followed Al-An like a puppy. Once they were at the entrance, she watched the Architect go the other way, saddened to see the gap between them growing. His presence laid dormant, but it was there, lending her comfort and closure. Eventually, she made her way to the landing platform and enjoyed the surroundings as dawn painted the sky in many colors—wondering if Architects could miss someone.

They probably could, she just had to quit being a sap.

Robin had everything prepared once Al-An returned. Her excitement visibly surprised the Architect, which only further elevated his curiosity about the surprise. However, before the Architect could even say something, she gently took a hold of his hands and closed the gap between them, clicking affectionally once they had re-established the sensual connection. Still very unused and inexperienced, that made Al-An feel incredibly shy as he returned the gesture.

He felt Robin’s presence calming his mind as she said, “you’ve got a lot to learn when it comes to love.”

“Yes, but that should be of no issue, seeing as you will be my mentor,” Al-An stated with a soft voice, “perhaps that will include exploring the depths of... intimacy which we usually do not.”

“How do you know?” Robin asked, genuinely surprised that he read her mind. Her color cycled to a mixture between red and magenta.

“It was my intuition. I have gathered some... interesting data when I was trapped within you,” Al-An admitted, and for someone so shy about the barest minimum of romance, Robin would’ve expected the Architect to be almost impossible to indulge with about anything sexual. “I would be dishonest if I were to say that I was not curious.”

“Oh, uh... I-I wasn’t prepared for this. Didn’t you initially say that Architects don’t have the urge to mate or aren’t capable of being attracted to someone in a sexual manner?”

“Yes, and that is still true. However, curiosity knows no boundaries and I would be willing to engage in these activities with you.”

Impressed and at a clear loss for words, Robin took her time to comprehend what she was just told as they continued to enjoy the sensual connection. Al-An noticed her inner conflict through their connection and drew back, almost visibly troubled.

“I would understand if you do not agree,” he said in a voice that clarified that he meant it, “it was merely an admission.”

It was painful to Robin seeing the Architect not offended by her hesitance and uncertainty. “No, no! I agree, it was just a surprise to hear that from you,” she said, her tone apologetic, “you don’t seem to be the type of person to be curious about sex.”

As soon as those words left her, Robin wanted to slap herself. Who was she kidding? That was Al-An, one of the most reserved and secretive people she’d met, so of course he wouldn’t admit to harbor these curiosities. Especially not when Architects had long forgotten the sensation of pleasure and concept of reproduction.

“There is always more to an individual than they let on,” Al-An’s color cycled to green and then to a mixture of purple and magenta once he added, “but I am relieved to know you agree. I feared I had unintentionally gone too far.”

“You should stop being an amazing example for humanity.”

The Architect was about to apologize when he realized it was a compliment rather than an insistence. “May I know where we are going?”

“Nope!” Robin happily chimed as she stood in the middle of the platform to initiate ship assembly. “That would spoil the surprise.”

“Very well,” replied Al-An reluctantly, concluding that he didn’t like surprises at all. They made him uncharacteristically impatient, and the anticipation was driving him crazy the more time passed. It was human concepts like these that made no sense to the Architect, given the fact that they caused discomfort for something that was not always worth it.

Once the ship assembly initiated, the Architect was rendered no less than intrigued, as Robin begun constructing a ship nearly of her own design. It was a design for efficiency and comfort—flatter on the y-axis while the spaceship was more elongated on the x and z-axis, nearly resembling a bird in design. The pilot could operate the ship without being directly hooked up to it, and it had the feature to mimic its surroundings as a means of camouflage.

Thrusters aligned vertically; the ship was complete as Robin waited for Al-An to enter. Much like it was for his ship, he was elevated into the interior of the ship and looked around, seeing not too much of practical use.

“Stop judging things by their practicality,” she remarked playfully but strictly, “brace yourself before I change my mind.”

“I... apologize,” the Architect replied and made his way to the front of the ship, bracing himself on a platform lower than the one Robin initially stood on. “You may initiate the launch sequence now.”

And so, the ship ascended and aligned with the phase gate. The phase gate revealed the portal, and Robin flew straight through it, finding it harder to pilot the spaceship than it appeared to be. It was especially difficult to fly at high speeds because a tiny mistake could cause the ship to go off-course, but luckily that hadn’t happened.

The duo met with a perfect view of a pink and purple nebula. Al-An perked up in curiosity and awe, appearing to see it for the first time.

“Have you never seen this one before?”

“No, my kind usually does not... bother with sights like these unless they are of any practical value. However, I find myself questioning that. This is... incredibly beautiful,” the Architect replied as he was almost at a loss for words. It was frankly a mesmerizing sight to behold, and he found himself drawn to it. “What is its designation?”

“We call it the Pelican nebula, IC 5067. It is located approximately two-thousand light years away from Earth.”

Stunned, the Architect kept silent as he took in the mesmerizing sight. He diverted his gaze to Robin when she approached him and sat down right beside him, leaning forward to lean against his torso. Following his intuition, Al-An wrapped an arm around her and held the Architect close. A warm feeling emanated from his core.

“Do you like it?” Robin asked, enjoying the remarkable sight herself. She had never viewed the nebula from this up close and would certainly make time to visit other nebulas that she dreamed of visiting. Now that Robin was practically immortal, she had all the time in the world to do so.

“Yes,” Al-An replied, observing and studying every little detail about the nebula. That was one of the rare human concepts he enjoyed—beauty in nature. As a researcher, he never truly had the time to pay attention to anything other than practicality, but now he would do so more often. “No, I was wrong. I believe the proper statement would be that I love it.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t!”

The pair continued to sit there, enjoying the view in silence as they eventually re-established the sensual connection. Now that they were alone and had some time for themselves, the pair could maintain it for as long as they wished. It was yet the best romantic experience for Robin—with someone she loved dearly and an astonishing view.

She clicked affectionally, nuzzling him, and unintentionally deepened their connection to the point where she felt a minuscule amount of pleasure. “I love you.”

Al-An’s curiosity about the feeling of pleasure was quickly drowned out, deemed unworthy of attention just yet as he returned the affectional clicking. “I love you, too,” he said in a voice so affectional and soft that Robin would cherish this memory eternally.

THE END [?]