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A cloak of shadow.
A mantle of shadow.
Cast upon the vast expanse of her vision and subsuming all light, in a cruelly unfamiliar way unlike visions of utopian paradises she’d had in her head.
It wasn’t darkness. It wasn’t ebony, it wasn’t charcoal or onyx or obsidian- it was not pure black; that she could tell from the faint thrum of her screen, what still functioned of it, whining in the back of her head or blips of wailing red and green and blue sensors that fizzled in and out of view. It was some kind of eigengrau that contained multitudes of sickeningly neon colours within it much in the same way an overused swatch of paint may contain residue from other shades it shared a palette with.
…
Swatch
She almost winced, but she did not. Not because she couldn’t move in this condition- she was sure she could, and she was sure she would, she just needed a moment, of course- but because she understood that she had the situation beneath her control.
She was smart. She knew that.
…
She knew Swatch, wherever they were currently, likely with any of the others that remained at this time, was fine. And she knew she need not worry for them, and, logically, sensibly, as she was doing already, instead should focus on routing all of her processing to the current situation at hand.
…
Go On
Get Up
…
Was it apathy? Was it inability, was it injury? She prayed for none. Prayed, in the loosest sense possible, of course. It was a strange thing, for her, and something she had not fully finished processing or rationalising to herself yet. To depend upon the preachings of a religion she was intending to disprove in such a way. But she had to, because what more could she cling to, reasonably, when things had begun to end like this? When all hope was lost for the tale?
...but...
…
“The Queen’s chariot cannot be stopped.”
Those were the words etched upon glass. Upon papers basked in Light, upon a prophecy that remained only in scraps and whispers, a prophecy that the narrative of the universe had found itself built upon regardless of its obscurity. Everything in it was said to come to pass, at some point or another, and yes, she would admit, that was proving to be true from what she had observed so far. What little she knew and what little she could see of the words and the acts themselves.
But with the fear, and the tragedy, and the bleak, there had come that panel, that phrase of shining hope, and she had understood it at once, because it made perfect sense.
“The Queen’s chariot cannot be stopped.”
It was true, she thought. It had always been true. From the second she had been crafted through the Light and bestowed upon the dark it had been true; far before she knew of the panel, of the prophecy, of any of it. It was simply who she was, who she was built to be. Her nature. Oh, and how she revelled in it now- in the way that she and only she was perfectly shaped with such intention to bring about the bliss and harmony the world’s narrative omitted in its tale. She had noticed right away the erroneous injustice of it all, the imbalance. And of course, she had noticed the reprieve she could bring of it. The reprieve she could bring CYBER WORLD, each and every darkner, yes, each and every Lightner from the cruelty of the world they had all been cast into. Each and every Lightner from the innate suffering even they faced in their holy little heaven beyond the dark.
Staring, tapping to receive joy.
Staring, tapping to avoid pain.
And she had seen that, and she had learned to understand it, and she had taken it. She’d been perfect at her purpose from the start. From the beginning, she’d had her plan, though now she could admit that at the very very peak of her existence as the Lightners’ most beloved necessity mechanism object aid, it had existed as little more than a mere fantasy of how the world should have looked, in her optimal eyes. And then the Lightners grew, and she with them, and she learned. She learned of cruel little injustices and mundane torment- of everyday misery. And as she did, as she grew privy to it, she began to realise just how much the universe needed her vision to become happy.
It was something so simple. Something she knew immediately, something so obvious but something only she could do. Something only she, the perfect being she was with its perfect prophecy and purpose and craft could conceptualise and bring about. This was, surely, what she had been created by the Lightners to do.
“If Only We Had More Darkness”
“We Might Be Able To Cover The Whole World”
…
“With The Whole World Covered In Darkness”
“Nobody Would Have To Suffer Anymore”
…
It had been a mantra of sorts, she supposed. A lifelong ambition. A goal she knew she was made for the second she set it in her head, the second she learned the true bounds of the ways in which the Lightners were enslaved to their hardships; enslaved to their hardships in such clearly distressing and unfair and unjust ways that she could not understand how no one else could see it so immediately the way she could, see it for the obvious cruelty it was, and set about fixing it immediately.
But that was simply who she was.
A radiant genius of sacred being.
And the only one who could make them happy.
Make them happy, make darkners happy, make the whole world happy and hold them tight in her gloved hands, letting them worship her in eternal bliss as they all deserved.
…Make her happy.
Because the Queen’s chariot could not be stopped, would not be stopped, and so the moment she had set her mind to it, the moment she had, why, it had seemed to set itself firmly as an inevitability in the order of the universe.
Because that was simply who Queen was.
…
So why had it failed?
Why had it failed so many fucking times…??
It was impossible. Should’ve been impossible. Unthinkable, unjust, absurd.
So many times, she had come so close, so fucking close, where victory at last after years of toiling and waiting and learning and watching the constant painful inequities of the world unfold before her had been mere nanometres from her grasp.
And each time, so cruelly it had been torn away.
“Queen, why do you want to unleash the Roaring so much…??”
She remembered it all coming crashing down. Crashing down and feeling gone forever, out of her reach forever.
“Well My Plans Are Shot”
“My One Idea To Help Noelle, Failed”
“Go Ahead Kris Seal The Fountain”
“I Will Not Stand In Your Way Any Longer”
…
For some time, particularly in that moment, she'd admit that it had seemed like there was no point to continue chasing it, that little triumph on the tip of her tongue. She had been too busy processing the legitimacy of her loss, her absurd, impossible loss. Because how? How could something like that be… how could something like that happen to her? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. The win had been right in front of her after everything, after the emergency in the mansion and the vanishing of Bird boy Burghley Berdly and then Noelle…
…
And she, for some reason, was not permitted to have it.
…It did not make sense.
She simply could not compute it.
And thus, ashamedly, she could not compute the idea of trying again.
…
“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll even…”
“Get to meet Noelle again?”
…
…
After that, things had just started to go wrong left and right. Things out of her jurisdiction. CYBER WORLD inhabitants, peons, friends, missing. Her world, her beautiful dark world with its emerald wireframe fields and neon signs and bright blue cities and pretty buildings and acid lakes and everything destroyed in an instant, destroyed for good. The world she planned to gift to those unfortunate enough to not live within it.
It all just kept getting worse. More unfair and inescapable, and hauntingly frustrating.
Hauntingly infuriating.
Because why, she had thought. What had she done wrong, what sin had she committed so great to lose everything all at once in the way she did?! Her plans, her comrades, her world, her Lightners, even parts of her purpose and function as what she was slowly stripped from her one by one.
And it was unfair.
It was just unfair and she didn’t understand it at all.
…
But the Queen’s chariot could not be stopped.
…
“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll even…”
“Get to meet Noelle again?”
How foolish of her, to forget herself in such a way. Forget her purpose and her drive. Lightners may be the ones with the determination, but damn it, she was pretty damn close. So, so close.
And if those horrid little magic words proclaimed that she would get her happy ending, get her perfect and optimal paradise, she would have it.
And as time trudged, she learned. She learned a lot. About the prophecy, a little, about the ANGEL.
About what it had done. What it had done to her. Noelle.
So, Queen kept fighting for it because Queen was made to fight for it. Fight and fight and fight because she knew it was what the world needed. Her endless bliss, her invigorating presence.
That was her role and her purpose and she needed it, she wanted it.
She wanted it so bad.
She wanted to make everybody smile, everybody smile for her and she’d march her way through everything and anything that stood puny in her way just as she’d done before. The loneliness and the homelessness and even the Roaring itself could wait at the door, lest they wished to be torn through by her newly rejuvenated iron will.
Queen could not be stopped.
Queen would not be stopped.
She would realise her vision whether the world’s unjust and unfair and incomprehensible natural tragedy wanted her to or not.
She would not let it happen. She could not let it happen.
The Lightners- everybody, they could not fall victim to the universe’s ultimate plan of suffering. It could not be the final act. The ending.
Queen’s ending was right. Queen’s ending was infallible, and optimal, and perfectly curated. And nothing would halt her now in her chase for it.
“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll even…”
“Get to meet Noelle again?”
…
Noelle
Her sweet baby Noelle. Noelle Darling Honey Sweetie Gravy.
The Lightner who’d captured Queen’s attention and kept it tight like a vice throughout her existence.
…
Something had happened to her.
Something bad.
Something Queen knew was bad, but could not understand the sheer extent of, not from the mere hints she had to work with without her internet.
…
“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll even…”
“Get to meet Noelle again?”
What horrendously evil irony. Cold, cruel irony.
The image of “Noelle”’s face, clear as day, seared into her head and it was so torturously agonising that Queen had to stifle a hiss with what little strength remained she had. As she had stood before the fountain, pulsating rainbow and ominous obsidian intertwining and dancing with one another like tongues of fire prancing and licking the air.
Noelle’s skin, yes, Noelle’s flesh and bone. But not her eyes. Not her expression. Not her, not even close. A creature so hollow and in such a shoddy mockery that Queen’s systems had temporarily gone ballistic from her facial recognition struggling at first to place her, followed by the anguish to process the inconceivable emotional response it evoked, an emotional response she was not built to compute in any way.
What a joke of an imitation of Noelle it had tried to be. And holy fuck, it had hurt. It had hurt so fucking badly, finally getting to see for herself what had truly been done to her. To her Noelle.
She’d considered many things in that moment, processors turning up lists upon lists upon lists of possible next steps regarding the multitudes of horrid feelings that had just swirled around inside of her like a whirlwind. Dropping to the ground right there and then and hugging her close. Holding this shell, this thing that used to be the Lightner who had meant so much to her all these years she’d been in service so tight against her perfect chrome body that perhaps she could absorb it, make it part of her, and allow it to be encased within eternal excellence, eternal bliss forever and ever in such a manner that one day, perhaps it would become happy again.
How long did it take her to smile? How long would it take her to smile, once Queen finally, finally executed her plan the way she wished and alleviated each and every drop of torture and suffering in the doe’s body? Not long, she hoped, because she’d planned it all out anew, the way it would unfurl, her happy ending. She’d already internally blueprinted her vision for CYBER WORLD V2.O- couple of bugfixes here and there, bigger cities maybe, faster cars (faster cars = more cars allowed on the road = more cars for her to hit for amusement = everyone wins)- of course she’d have to expand the mansion to accommodate for all the Lightners. She could and would return everyone and everything that was lost, with the pliable nature of what they all were. And of course, she’d have her new and improved TERA-QUEEN mech and god oh god it just sounded so good. It sounded so cathartic to merely visualise. She could scarcely function without her systems going entirely out of whack from the sheer burden of excessive joy it caused and vibrating really hard and wanting to bounce around the room and shake everybody she came into contact with because holy shit!!! This was happening!!! She was overwriting the world’s silly tragedies with her superior, carefully, optimally crafted utopia and flipping the bird to all of the unfair misery that had plagued this rotten reality and hurt so many innocent people for no apparent reason, with no vindication or retribution to brag of!!!!
She was fixing it!
She was finally fixing it!!
She was going to win like she always knew she would!!!
…
That…
…
That was still going to be the case.
This was merely a minor setback.
…
She couldn’t… think straight. Couldn’t feel a single part of her body, not one component, internal or external.
She could feel a wall behind her she was slumped upon, but that was it. The mantle of eigengrau consumed all else besides the ever-constant whine of pain that undercut each little motion she tried to make.
How’d it get like this? She didn’t know.
She didn’t know how she’d allowed it.
GIGA-QUEEN had been her ultimate form, and inarguably unbeatable, but it had been abandoned in the sealing of her fountain. She’d had to improvise with whatever she could find and make in Castle Town (Not Much), and she felt it were not embellishing even slightly to profess she had done a magnificent job with what she had. She would not allow herself to be beaten. She refused, because now, the ending was in sight. She would defeat the ANGEL as it piloted Noelle’s broken mind and body like it had any right to be there, the horrid little parasite that it was, and she would have Noelle course her will into her blade and create a new fountain, through which Queen would shape the paradise she’d envisioned all those years ago.
It was so simple. So perfect. Rid her world of this murderous thing that had ruined the lives of everybody she’d ever cared about so irrevocably, and form it anew, and take everybody into her arms and let them take turns in singing her (righteous) praises for liberating them of the indescribable pain of everyday life before she had reformed it all.
…
Her preparations had, somehow, not been as strong as she wanted.
…
Queen fought hard. So fucking hard. She’d made it so damned hard for it, she did.
But it was almost like it knew each move she was going to make before she’d even come up with it in her head. Each time she attacked, each time she did something, she was hit with this sickening wave of déjà vu as it evaded her like it was second nature, and in return hit her with all it had.
…
But she had kept fighting.
Even as everything around her was failing.
Because she would not.
She would not.
Damn it, she would not fail. Not again. Not ever again, now that she knew what it had done. To her citizens and her city and her Noelle.
She would not fail the Lightners. She would not fail her subjects. She would not fail her sweet deer (Get It) baby. She would not fail the prophecy, the prophecy they were all in servitude to, no matter what, in the image of which she was moulded to keep fighting for this bliss she knew only she could enact.
She would not fail herself.
…
And yet, here she lay.
Because despite the fight, the fire, and the desperation that still burned so brightly within, the paralysis was real and it was heavy. Queen fought through it, but her struggles did not give way.
Agony throbbed all over her body, and the longer she spent in this state, the sharper and clearer, yet more natural it felt. She still could not feel her body at all, but she could feel where each new jolt of pain sparked from- legs, arms, her face, her chest, all of it aching in pain, pain, pain.
It was new to her. Very new. In fact, she had never felt it before.
How horribly strange and unjust it was that her first experience with the sensation had to be in a manner so torturous and brutal.
How
Unfair
Queen forced back another hiss as her chest sparked and crackled again with the sizzle of the pain. She was beginning to feel low and mellow, and it hurt more than the pain, somehow. She felt she were drowning in some sludge that was dragging her down, way down, and ensnaring her at the bottom of some pit of pure jet-black deep within her complex. Not now. Please, not now, no, no, no- she had to stay conscious. She had to keep going and force herself up. Once she did, she could… she could keep going, and she could take it down, and then Noelle would be safe and then and then and then-
The thoughts continued to pour like enjambment in her head as she struggled. Why was she struggling, why was she slowing?! Was she low on battery? That would make sense. That was logical. Yes, she was so smart, that had to be it. She checked.
20%.
…
Fuck
…
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck
Oh, it hurt. All of it hurt. All of it hurt so, so bad because it was all so cruelly unfair and she did not understand any of it at all.
Get Up Get Up Get Up Get Up Now
Right Now
Get Up
Why her? Why now?
Why did this always happen?!
Please You Have To Get Up Now Please
They Need You
She Needs You
She was so close.
So damn close yet again.
She could see the end of the horizon before her if somebody would for once just let her reach it-
Let her keep it-
Let her-
Let her just-
Queen was rifling through her files. Random shit she had, random ZIP folders and downloads she didn’t have the time or energy to extract. Something at last she could see amongst the shadows that engulfed her: her internal windows, even if they were fuzzy, and broken, and difficult to read with the way random blips of colours far too bright would fluctuate through them at random. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Nothing in particular, just something, anything that would help her get back on her feet because she needed it. She needed it, she was desperate, she…
…
She was looking at some of the earliest files she had downloaded on her hard drive. Random bullshit some of the Lightners had added when she was new to the library, stupid little flash games that likely no longer functioned or funny JPEGS she treasured in all their compressed glory.
But something stood out among them. Something she recalled making herself an exceptionally long time ago while drunk and screwing around with herself, researching her capabilities and executing tricks at random for fun. For amusement. She longed for those days.
…
Was this ever actually used…? Or had she just created it and forgotten the next morning?
…
…
**
“Your Grace, we explicitly said one glass.”
“Ok Nice Argument Swatchie * Small Issue: I Explicitly Said ‘No’ To That”
She heard Swatch grumble quietly beneath their breath before steeling themselves, pacing a little behind her throne upon which she was situated comfortably with her third glass of the night (third glass full stop, actually), with such a manner of exudence and exasperation in tandem that it earned a small regal chortle from her as she threw back another sip.
“Bro I Am Having So Much Fun Don’t Even Play” she iterated with a playful firmness as she lowered the glass again and gestured wildly with her free hand, crossing one leg over the other and bouncing it gently. “This Is So Chill I Feel So * Uhhhhhhhhh”
A small red wheel began to turn on her screen as she spun her throne around in thought, searching her endless expanse of knowledge for a fitting descriptor. Her screen lit up anew when she landed on one. “Like Airy I Guess * Yeah TL;DR This Fucking Rocks Man”
“Maybe that is because you’re sitting in a big floaty chair,” Swatch mused with a sigh, voice undercut with a frustrated fondness as they surrendered and sat beside her, knowing they could not convince her to cease at this rate. “…No, I’m…”
“…”
They sighed again.
“…I am glad you’re enjoying yourself, at least. Any service we can offer to our glorious monarch.”
“Hell Yeah”
Queen kept spinning on her throne, her posture upon it now rather improper as she slumped and threw her glass up in the air, allowing small lime droplets of acid to corrode upon the floor below. She grinned.
She felt so alive.
She felt so damn alive.
…She felt as though she could do anything.
“Like * TBH I Do Not Believe There Is A Way To Articulate How Beneficial This Is For Me RN But * Ok Just Kidding Actually You Know I Can * Bro Not Only Is This: Sick As Hell [TRUE] * Tasque Manager Was Right This Thing’s An Excellent Energy Source My Goddddddd”
She was yammering away now, velocity increasing exponentially as she talked, until Swatch and the rest of the room around her had become little more than blurred smudges that appeared and reappeared in rhythm with her words. “This Shit’s Invigorating Man What More Can I Say LMAO * So Fire 10/10 * I Will Do Anything And Everything Forever Now Thank Youuuuuuu”
“Anything and everything?” Swatch enquired, but their voice was distant and vague. Somehow, Queen still heard them. “Yea” she added with a nod, continuing to gesture with her hands- both of them now, as she had tossed the now-empty glass theatrically to the floor behind her, letting it smash against the tiles for dramatic effect, to punctuate her phrasing. “YK How Much Stuff I’m Learning I Can Do Outta This? * Like Swatch Bro”
“Like”
“AAAAAAA”
“Do You Even Know What A VM Is * Or????”
“A VM?”
Swatch sounded thoughtful, though she could no longer make them out at all among the sickeningly fun motion blur of her surroundings, her mansion, or pick out the complexities to each tone of their voice and what it may imply regarding the nature of the statement. “…I can’t say I have with any certainty, your grace.”
“It’s Fucking Crazy Get This” came Queen’s instant response. “It Is The Virtualisation Or Emulation Of A Computer System (Me) * On A Computer System * And It Has Its Own Operating System, CPU power * Memory, Disks For File Storage, Internet Etc. Etc.”
“…Right…”
“So In Other Words * I Can Just: Clone Myself And Run It On Me * As Its Own Separate Thing”
“I see.”
“That Is Nuts * Ouh I Am So Damned Cool * Swatchie Aren’t I Just So So Soooooo Damned Cool”
“Indeed you are, Your Grace. You never cease to astound us.”
Queen grinned, at last halting her twirl and leaning back far into the back of her cushy throne, staring up at the ceiling as the blur and dizziness faded from her processors. “Man I Have Got To Try That Sometime”
It felt like an unspoken promise, somehow. Somehow, it felt there was tangible weight to such a simple little exclamation, as she lay back and left room for it to disperse in the air before she continued.
“Though I Fear That The World Is Simply Not Ready For: Two Of Us * They Could Not Handle It Unfortunately”
“Mmm.”
“…”
“…Still,” Swatch continued, drawing nearer to her now that she was finished swivelling around, “it is an intriguing idea to… entertain.”
“…”
“The world would certainly benefit from more of you, of course.”
“What I’m Saying”
Queen reached for her glass and huffed when she remembered it was currently lying in shards behind her. It wasn’t likely she could get away with ordering a fourth; not with Swatch in the room, at least.
…
A second her.
Even as a mere idea to entertain, a hypothetical to consider for amusement, she found it capturing her thinking processes entirely.
Swatch was entirely correct, because they agreed with her.
The world would benefit from more of her.
…
Just thinking about it made her feel funny. A good funny, she reckoned, but she was still getting used to it. All of it. The concept of… existing, and existing in the way she did with the way she was built to execute emotional tasks. She found herself disliking most of them for that, and this was no different, except…
Even though it was positive, it was so… large, and difficult to discern, that her system stuttered a little as it washed over her. Her joints tensed and she gripped the armrests of her throne tight, smile pressing into a thin line in concentration as the tides of the conversation shifted, what little remained of them.
…
But she was still thinking about it.
…
And thus, she was curious.
And when Queen got curious, when Queen reckoned something ought to be a good idea…
…
She listened to Swatch discuss business affairs with the Colour Café and nodded along, hanging on each word. In the background, however, she was beginning to learn the process for “virtualisation” or whatever it was called. Creating an “image”, as Lightners were putting it, it seemed.
…Shockingly, it was not a laborious thing.
It took a while, but it was simple enough to her. Baby’s work, really. Just getting the right software and setting it all up, selecting the parameters, all of it…
…
And just like that, it was there.
Waiting for her on millions and millions of little files stretching out infinitely in one large folder before her, waiting to be run, contained newborn within its application.
So many of them, so concise and compact and threatening in their numbers, all making up part of this copy she had just willed. Q5u.vmx. Q5u.vmdk. Q5u.vmem, and q5u.log, and q5u.nvram, and… and countless others that overwhelmed her drunken gaze as she stared upon them.
…
It was…
It was intimidating, just a little. Not scary; nothing frightened her, certainly not something like this. It was merely its existence that felt intimidating.
To create herself anew so easily…
…What implications did that carry? How many Queens could the Lightners replicate, if they truly wanted to? That was a good thing in and of itself, though, wasn’t it? To have multiple, as she had said to Swatch already.
…
She knew that. She knew that that was true, and surely it was how she felt. Because Queen, of course, ran on logic-based thinking processes, and so if she knew for certain that one thing was fact, and beneficial, and overall positive, then she must see it that way.
…
…
And yet…
And yet, she stared at it for a little too long, in a way she knew was ridiculous. She kept her gaze focused on that long list of layers and layers of artificial components observed within her, replicated from her, perfectly in imitation of her. A snapshot in time of a moment she was proud of.
…
And then she closed the window.
…
She… she didn’t need a second Queen, did she? The Lightners did not need a second Queen. She was enough as she was.
She’d… she’d merely save it for when, no, if it was ever necessary. Tuck it away in the back of her file directory and keep it safe for the hypothetical moment in a far-off future where such a thing would be required.
In which she would not be enough as she was.
…
…
No.
No, for now she was living in a very real, very present moment. A very happy moment. A light moment where she felt alive and empowered and rejuvenated.
That was where she was. And so, she’d live there. She’d stay there.
And cease worrying about such silly things.
…
…
Silly things she would just forget in the morning.
**
Queen tried to reread all the files as they lay before her, displaying their sheer enormity once more. It was, more or less, exactly as she remembered it- as much as she could. The memory buzzed and fuzzed upon being recalled. But she was sure that was merely a byproduct of the haze of drink- and surely bore no further concerning implications about her current state.
Neat, organised, succinct. Hundreds and hundreds of little files all layering together to create one being. One her.
…
And it was strange to think about, wasn’t it? That she had just… that she could just carry a copy of herself around inside, one independent to her entirely.
But still her.
Still, somehow, her.
…
And it had always seemed intimidating. As intimidating as she would be willing to admit something was for her- which made it more so a light-hearted and bemusing hesitance than anything. It had always seemed strange.
…
And unnecessary, when she was right here.
…
Right here, and perfect, just the way she was.
…
…
But…
…
But just now, right now, she would admit that under the current circumstances… indeed, the idea seemed almost attractive once more.
Two…
She could… benefit from that, couldn’t she? Benefit from another. Could probably help her get back up. Could probably help her…
…
Do… something. Push her back over the edge where she was supposed to be.
…
Make her work again.
So she stared at it. Stared at that big long list.
…
Stared at it and hesitated, letting her lose herself in a blur of names and file extensions and muted colours rather than notice the anguish that still washed over her in harsh, angry waves.
…Was this how the Lightners felt? At last, could she understand the true extent of the joy she brought? The reprieve?
…
God, no wonder they needed it. Needed her.
They needed her.
They needed her.
They… needed her.
Queen ran the program.
…
She could feel it moving. Starting up inside, because although it was independent from her still, it was contained, like feeling two individuals beneath one skin. Feeling the other, a foreign entity beneath, stir and move and breathe as fresh life was breathed anew into its being, as the burden the gift of existence flooded circuits and hardware that did not exist, were not physical; but digital.
Virtual.
Virtual, but still so very tangible, she noticed, as each little non-existence writhe of awakening jolted within, a counter-melody to all the agony, and underscoring. And it felt almost apathetic in its existence, loud but subdued, and small, and…
…
And she couldn’t find it in her to be able to pick it out amongst the rest of the damage, the cold, the pain. All the pain. All the pain. All the-
“Woah”
Her voice. Her voice, clean and sharp and clear in all its bit-crushed glory, bursting through speakers that sounded brand new. But she was sure the words could not have been spoken aloud, because she couldn’t speak at the moment, not properly; she’d tried and all that had come out was a glitched and garbled mess. That was okay, though. She was sure she was okay. Just… tired…
…Just tired.
“What The Fuck Happened To You”
Something reached out and fondled her soul. Or her spirit, or her core, or whatever. Queen was quite sure darkners did not have souls. That was the key difference between dark and Light, she fancied. Perhaps that was where the Lightners got all of their determination; or was it simply something they were born with as a virtue of being what they were?
…
Whatever was touching her and whatever was being touched did not feel real. The contact seemed as though it was on another layer of reality, of being, entirely separate from the concept of physicality and yet she could feel every microsecond of movement. Every minute little motion the two things were to make. The stuttered, concerned, tender way one outstretched towards the other, towards what had to be her, and make hesitant touch although frightened of the opposing fragility, which pained her, annoyed her. She felt her own limp being tense in response, and if it had the strength- no, if it wanted to use the strength, it may have vibrated with such an intensity that it would let go.
…
She was unsure if that analysis was correct, and that frustrated her. The two things seemed to blend together in a manner so mind-numbing and incomprehensible that she struggled to tell what made what motion. Was the concern for her, from her, within her; outside of her looking in, or inside gazing out? Was the anger and desperation and… and fear, she discovered then, did any of it, in any part, belong to her as she was…? She hoped not. It shouldn’t. It wouldn’t. She had no mean to fear. To shudder and tense and want to push this new and strange force dwelling with life in her chassis off of her, repel it away from her forever.
“…”
“Damn”
“Damn You Certainly Got: Your Ass Kicked”
“Ha Ha”
“…”
She felt a grimace play on her face, but the action did not mirror itself on the physical plane that she slowly felt herself drift further and further away from, as her senses continued to fail to subdue. She felt faceless, somehow. And she felt herself desiring to inch away from this voice that echoed all around her, her own voice, so direly unneeded right now because dammit she was right here and she didn’t need it. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all.
“…”
“Why”
It was a question she had been begging it not to ask without even realising it.
“…”
“I”
“It D0es_NOtt&t;M4tter”
Even her thoughts seemed scrambled. But that was okay. She was just tired. Tired after everything, and soon she would be getting back up.
Because this was recoverable.
It had to be recoverable.
She would be fine.
“…”
“Yes It Does”
“Mmmm____-_WR0nG”
“Yes It Does I Can Tell”
“…”
“Our Systems Are Separate * But You Are… All Around”
“I Do Not Know How I Got Here But I Can See”
“You”
“…”
“I Know”
“I Do Not Know What I Know LMAO But I Can”
“Feel You Hurting”
“N0o”
“And I Want To Help”
Was that why it asked so few questions? Why it seemed so unperplexed by the notion of its sudden existence, and its presence inside of her? Did it know it was not real, not truly, and so had already accepted what it was?
…
No, was it any less real than she were?
It had all the same parts, just without a body.
…
“1FFF Y0U>>>>>.Can S]E]E][] Ev3ryth1NG Then”
“Y0u Should N0…………………….T N33D To (A][S) k * The Qu3st1qionnshdjn”
“S1_lly”
“…”
“I Want To Help”
“…”
“You Will Let Me Help * This Is: Not An Option”
She felt a fist clench. Likely hers, she reckoned. She hoped.
“I Can Feel Your Thoughts And I Can Feel Your Knowledge”
“I Can Feel Us * Who We Are”
“You Know Better Than Anybody How Perfect [TRUE] And Awesome And * IDK * Cathartic We Are”
“So Just Let Me”
“…Stay”
“And Help”
“For A Moment * Because It Is Easier That Way * (Again I Am Not Giving You Options Here LMAO)”
That contact, that weird metaphysical contact, inched closer again, and grew, enveloping a fraction of her. She groaned and hissed and the sound came out as a grating garbled noise.
“…”
“F1Ne”
“Yes_ Okay F1Ne”
“Y0U Are H3RRE3E To: Help-- * _-_- -_ _- _- ___ _ * --_- -_ -- -_-- * _- ___ -__ * -- * -__ -- -_-- -_-- * _- ___ _ * --_- -_ -- -_-- * _- ___ -__ M3 Gett B4cK ON.,. My Feet >/>B3cause”
“W3ll////L1kEe * Y0000uUU 55a..Idd It Yourself Br0 IDK WE ARe Aw33smsome”
She felt a sickening, splitting sensation fill her head as her screen tried to light up with something, anything, as she talked- or thought. It ached with a throbbing whistle that made her, for a second, wish to tear her motherboard asunder from her complex of circuits.
“G1Vee Me Some__- R0USin___g Sp3333ch Or S0m3th1ng M@n Help-__- -_-- - -_ --- - * -__- -_-- - -_ --- - * ___ ---- * __ _-__ * __- ___ _-- * -__ - * -_ -_- - * --- ___ * _-- -_ __ _- * _-_- -_-- ___ --- - M3 B4cK Up WE Go0Oo0_tta>>> F1N1sH THI5”
“Acqu1re Our G0@l * Help--- ---- - * _- - - _-- --- * --_ --- * _ ---- - _-__ * _- - - _-- * --_ --- * _-_- ___ __ - * ___ _- * _-_- ___ __ - * ___ _- N0ELLE_ * L1ber@te>>>@< THE3 Lightners * Anddddddddddd H@vE An Excception@l_Number 0f C3_lebratory Al<<<<l Age5 Appr0000priate Gl@s5es 0f PuR3 B@tTerY Ac1d * 50 Laaaaaarge_>>./> Th@TtT WHeN W3 Atttempt T0 A5cr1be A Num3ric@l V@lue T0 IT We- W1ll Cr@SH LMAO”
Queen let her words hang, waiting as her opposition processed them. She could feel that familiar little wheel turning and rotating and spinning so slowly as she calculated the next steps in her logic-based thought process.
…
The same process that was starting to seem laborious, and difficult.
…
She really… really needed to get back up.
“…Ah”
Its embrace, if it could even be called that, grew and bent around her, engulfing and absorbing her being. Now that it was so close, flush against her very spirit, Queen could feel its temperature, and just how warm it was. Could it be described as comforting? She wished to hesitate on such a profession, as she always did. Wished to establish her opinion thoroughly in the logic of a well-thought notion.
For some reason, though, an impulse shot through her. An impulse, and that impulse screamed in affirmation. Screamed for it, and let herself go limp instead of squirming away as she might have done had she dwelled on it longer. It was almost like delicate arms encasing her entirely, and at once the whole cruel world went still.
It all stopped spinning, all at once, the daze and the anguish and everything else. The arms stayed, uncertain, firm, hard, quite like her own grasp. Queen had always wondered (as a hypothetical) what her own touch felt like.
…
Was her mechanical chassis too hard to be comforting? Too firm to be tender? Could it carry the same gentle comfort and small reassurances that of flesh and fur or whatever else could convey just fine?
…
Or was it perfect, as she suspected, perfect and optimal because it was hers?
…
Oh, how glad she was that the latter had been proven so correct, in that boundless little moment.
Oh,
How
Glad.
How glad, as it stretched further around her, and melted away the frost she could still feel seizing exposed wiring and making her spasm from the cold.
She enjoyed the cold. Well, she thought. More accurately she enjoyed an ambient chill that she ensured had been present throughout all of CYBER WORLD, because that was where she thrived and ran best.
This was something entirely different. Entirely stark, and harsh, and unforgiving. Jaded, jagged, cutting. Gutting.
Was this what it had felt like for all those who had fallen before? All citizens and cyber guys and…
…all of them, had they faded out to this sensation? This agony?
The thought should have frightened her, angered her- and maybe it did, in its own way. But more than anything, she felt comforted at last, despite how horrifically suffocating it was.
Look at her; she was feeling along with them all. Embracing and understanding and learning what all of them had undergone. Would that not make her victory more cathartic in the end, when eventually it came? Would it not make her more susceptible to comprehending what they had all suffered when she brought it all back to the way it was supposed to be? Restored it all, and expanded, and fixed what had been broken so unjustly, along with what had been fundamentally shattered from the start?
The ice would melt. And then all would be warm.
All would be warm and comforting forever.
…
Queen focused in hard on the feeling of it all, the tangible temperature. Her fans began to slowly screech within, and she felt them cut through a wire that had been hanging loose. It jolted. It sparked, and she stifled a sharp yelp that threatened to project itself through her speakers. It was like her body was unaware of the sheets of cold and mantles of ice that crackled around it, inside it, and was only knowledgeable of the pain itself. Pain that should have been red and hot.
So it tried to cool itself, but that just made the frost worse. She wanted to scream. She knew she couldn’t, because it would be frivolous, it would not matter. She could not make her body understand the circumstances; it was severed.
…
Arms around her, her arms around her, seemed to notice. They tightened.
…
…
“…”
It was warm.
It was so, so warm.
And the warm was good.
…
No…
No, what was she doing… she needed to get up… she needed to…
Thoughts murmured and buzzed as she began to stir again, the stiffness leaving her body as she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. What the hell… she had… she had to…
“Ok@Y N11ce HAA H@ ThaT>’s EN0uGh L3t Go_”
“WE HaV/e T0 GeTT_ Up N0w”
“…”
…
“Br0 I HaV/e T0 GeTT_ Up N0w”
“…”
“You Cannot”
And it was as if the very words had frozen it all over once again.
“…”
“Wh@T”
“…You Cannot”
She felt nothing. No change in expression. No pity or remorse, though it wasn’t like she wanted those things. She merely expected them. For some reason, she expected them.
“Wh@T D0 YoU M3an”
“Wh@T THe Beep> D0 YoU M3an”
She demanded answers, but none came. The other Queen was standing motionless and emotionless, staring at her with nothing. Nothing, she could feel it so clearly. Nothing.
“Wh@T D0 YoU M3an”
Answers. She needed answers. Because it did not make sense. Could not make sense. Couldn’t be possible. It didn’t compute. It didn’t compute.
“Wh@T D0 YoU M3an”
“̷̧͙̗̟̼͈͎̟̠͖͇͑͌̓̎̅̌̿̔͜Ą̸̥̞̹͕͙̘̫̥̣͖̫̰͈͙͠Ņ̴̩͓̼̯̦̦͉̘̻̟͙͙̾̿́͊S̵̻̪͇͍͇̺̩̝̟͓̈́͋̃̇͂͘Ẅ̶̪̠͚̪̙͈̻͕̬̇̀̑̓͠Ę̴̙̬̹̜͍̱͎̳͊͗́͑̍͒͗̓̏͌̾̇̅̆͜͝R̵̡̗̟̘̅͋̉ ̸͍͎̩̦̦̮̼̫́̀͗̅͊̾̈́̇́͘̚͝M̶̨͙̮͔͕̝̯̺̜͓̺͙̺̼̍̾̔̕͠Ě̸̛̝̱̗̫̲͕̬͎̱͒̋̆̋͊͊̑̊̎̆͐̕͜ ̸̨̈́̎Ẁ̷̨̝̝̥͉̬̖̲̲̗̼ͅH̸̟̞̟͚͈̿̅͋͊̿̾̈́̀͑̕A̵̳̝͍͐̐́̀̇́͋̈̈́̾͘͘T̴͔̟̠̬̹̂͆͋̏̆̉ ̴̪̦̠̦̟̘͔̬̳̮͇̗̟̩͇̃̆́͜͝D̴̢̤̭͔̻̯͙́͗̍̂̎́́̐͊͝Ö̵͔͇̥̘͇̳͓̋́̆̊̐̈́̀̚͝͝ ̸̛̯̰̜̘̞̠̟̇̑̓̎̕̚͠Y̸̢̨̢͔̗͉̦̣̖̰̟̹͕͉̬̒͊̐̀Ö̷̡̨̢̼͔͎̳̠̗̳̜̙̰̤̎̈͛͐̍͝U̴͎̜̟̼̱̺͛̓̀ͅͅ ̸̧̢̙͔̠̘̰͈͈͖͚͎͚͆͛̏̈́̔̋̾͗̎ͅM̵̯̱͠E̵̢̡̬͓̰̹̠̻̺͕̲̝͐ͅA̶̳͙͎͔͓̠͍̥̭̜͜͝Ņ̶̖̣̮̲̖̤̝̞̦̋̇͑̇̀̑͜͝”̷̛̛̖̉̿̊̇͒́̌̆̎̋̂
She winced as a large surge of electricity flowed to her head, and as it happened, she felt her thoughts begin to yell and she hated it. Didn’t want it. But her body, her stupid body, her body that she loved and had always loved so indescribably, was no longer subservient to her desires. To her requests, to her commands.
…Why…
…Why was this the way the universe had to function to begin with? Why couldn’t she just-
“You Cannot”
That voice, her perfect, ungarbled, unscrambled voice, clear as ever. Its tone and constant movement flattened with a seriousness, with an apathy, with a loneliness Queen rarely allowed to consume her.
“I Can See You Now”
“Your… Hardware”
“…”
“You Cannot”
“You Will Not Move * Not Like This”
She almost yelled again, this time in protest, but her opposition showed no signs of letting up in her assessment.
“…”
“Come On Don’t * Do Not Look At Me Like That Ha Ha”
“Ha”
“…”
“You Know This To Be True”
“You Know That When We Know Something To Be True Then It Is True”
“Because We Are Always Right”
…
She was always right.
…
It was true.
Of course it was true.
Queen was never wrong. Queen always knew what was best, what was just. She knew what to do, what was true, how and why to bring it all about.
Because Queen was always right. Untouchable. Infallible.
And never before had she craved for that to be so wrong.
“N0”
“…”
“Th@T CaNn0T”
“Y0U />< CaNn0T-”
Her thought process was unceremoniously interrupted by a sharp loud surge of unfiltered agony.
Queen made a noise. She tried not to, but it was so sudden and overpowering that she could not help it.
And then there was another, and another. Not new, not new at all- all of it had always been there, and was only growing worse, worse, worse, worse. She could see all that she had blocked out before as each new blow replayed in her mind’s eye. Her optic sensors were not working. Not working for reasons she refused to acknowledge or entertain.
So, she could not assess the current damage as it stood. But the pain was so tangible and so raw and so reminding of past inflictions that she could see it all before her as it happened each time regardless.
Panels torn away. Torn away to allow internals to be unleashed and spilled out as they were ripped right from where they belonged and left to hang unsafe and disconnected from where they were supposed to dwell in her body. Parts of her disembodied, feeling far away from where they were supposedly affixed, feeling distant from her torso, or shoulders, or whatever else. Whatever else. Frost and ice weaving into those exposed segments, melting and drenching all that was inside in freezing water that slowly killed and ate away at it.
She felt her core skeleton of components twist and snap in half and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she could do.
…
It hadn’t been Noelle’s fault. It hadn’t been Noelle’s fault. Noelle hadn’t been… Noelle. She hadn’t been Noelle for a while now, Queen realised.
…
But that was okay. Queen was going to find her. She was going to. And when she did, when she saved her from the cruel injustices the Light of heaven brought upon her, she’d be grateful. So so grateful, so so thankful. And then it would all be worth it, wouldn’t it? All the horror, and all the struggle, all the pain… it’d all just melt away.
That was what was going to happen. Queen was certain of it. It was the only thing that, logically, made sense.
…
The most reasonable outcome.
…
After…
After she could… get up. When she could move in any capacity.
…
“…”
“You”
“You Cannot”
…
Broken.
Broken firmly in two.
Divided where the most crucial pieces lay.
“…”
She couldn’t.
She just…
Couldn’t.
“F1Ne”
“…”
“…F1Ne”
“It D0esN’t>. M@tt3r”
It didn’t.
So what? So what if there was a… a minor setback in her way…? She’d… she’d get up eventually. Something would happen. Somebody would come because somebody would have to come to her, for her. She was Queen.
It wasn’t like she was limited to this body. She could just have her OS ported somewhere else and then she’d be back, and stronger, and better, and able to face anything in her way without interruption.
…
Somebody would come.
Not like she needed it.
She… she could probably power through it all eventually on her own. Through the damage. She’d find a way through.
…
“The Queen’s chariot cannot be stopped.”
She would find a way through.
“…”
A frown. She felt it. A small pout of concern and disapproval that was so gut-wrenchingly familiar that it stung.
“…”
“Why Are You Still Running”
“…”
…
“You Are Aware That: Remaining Powered On Will Simply Worsen The Damage”
“…”
Of course she knew that. She was a computer (smart). Of course she’d know.
“1_Kn0w”
“…”
“So You Are Hurting Yourself On Purpose?”
Queen felt rows and rows of scarlet question marks fill the space just behind her vision.
“You”
“I”
“I Do Not Compute A Reason For That”
“…”
“Why?”
“Why Would You”
“…”
She felt another grimace on a face she was now certain wasn’t there anymore.
“? 1s It_ N0t-Ob_v11oUS?”
“IT’s B/ec@us_e I _H@vE a J0b., T0 DO Of COuRS_e * ANd I A_m N0t .,/R3st1ng UNtIl I Se3 It___ Thr0uGh”
“I_. AM Th_E OnLLy One./ Wh0, C@n”
“It____-= I5 Wh@T I Ex1sT_-__ T0 DO”
“AnD 0Nce I_Am-D0ne NoBODy_ W11ll EV3r H@v33/// T0 Su/f/fer//_ Ag@1N”
“…”
“5o IT Wi_LL Al-l// B3 W0rTh It”
“…”
“Oh”
“Oh You Silly Thing LMAO”
The warm embrace around her tightened, and with it shrill aching fans seemed to squeal faster and louder.
“…You Truly Believe We Are Going To Get What We Want??? Now?????”
What
“Wh@t”
Her fingers, her warm, gloved, delicate, ever familiar fingers seemed almost tangible now amongst it all. She could feel them twitch to rub what seemed to be the circuits aligning the nape of her neck in a manner likely intended to be soothing as she spoke.
“Come On You Are Smarter Than That”
“You Really Think This World Will Let You? After Everything?”
“But_ I-“
“The Truth Is: Written Already Isn't It * We Can See That Now * Now More Than Ever”
“The Narrative Is Set”
“And Though We Do Not Know The Bulk Of It”
“The Words Still Remain”
“The Soul Of The Story We Were Born Into Still Remains”
“Br0 Th@T Is Wh@T>> I’m_ S@y1ng Th0??”
“W3 Are.> Th3 One Who CCAnnot Be____- StoPPed”
“We-“
“And Yet You Are Still The Opposition”
Queen- not her, the other one- blurted it out so quickly and suddenly it was nearly startling. If she could, Queen- yes, that one- reckoned it was possible that she may have jumped back from the sudden high pitch, the fast pace, the new tone. It hardly sounded like her at all, with all the static and the quickness, though it quickly composed itself and cleared up.
“…And Yet We Are Still The Opposition”
The thought repeated itself.
“You Are Smarter Than This * We Are Smarter Than This * You Know The Way This World Functions”
“Your Own Malleable Nature * Your Purpose * Your Life”
“Your Fate”
“…You Will Never Be Able To Defy The Path Of A Lightner”
“No Matter The Fact That We Know We Are Correct [TRUE] In Our Desires And Our Plans And Our Beautiful Little World We Made In Our Head”
Queen thought she heard a small, choked, compressed noise somewhere there.
“So Long As They Choose This One”
“Our World Can Never Exist”</span
“…”
“You Knew That From The Start”
“…BUt”
“BUt/. ThEr3___=/ I5 Sti//ll S0 MuCh I Ne3d T0=D0”
“Wh@T Ab0u_T My S1cKK As5 NEO D@rrrr-__.k W00r//l/d Wh@T Ab0u_t ThE Lightners * Wh@T Ab0u_T ThE Sw@@tch_-l1NGs 0r TasQu3____M@nager/0r CYB=-/3R==+W0RLD * Wh@T Ab0u_T Noelle Wh@T Ab0u_T-“
“You Can’t Save Them”
Oh, the agony.
Oh, the horrid little agony of it. Agony that crushed already damaged circuits in a vice-like grip.
“I”
“N0”
“N0 I_ C@n”
“No I_ MUSt/”
“I- A=m Supp///05eD T0 Help =+Th3_ Lightners * Supp///05eD T0 Help Supp///05eD T0 Ans___-_w3r* TH@t’s+ My J0b”
“Well Now Your Job Is To”
“…”
“…”
“N0 N0 N0”
“N0 IT_. I5n’T/// ShUT Up H@_H@ N0=”
“It_C@N’t B3”
“It C@Nn0t”
“You Fought Hard”
“You Were Born To Fight Hard”
“Fight For It So So Hard
“…”
“But In The End That Was All * Was It Not?”
“You Were Made To Fight * Not To Win * Not To Triumph”
“…You Were Never Going To Get It”
“You Were Always Going To Be A Formidable Villain That The Brave Heroes Triumphed Over In The End * That Is Your Role * To Subjugate To Their Story, To Their Fate * To Lend Yourself In Mind And Body To Their Desires * That Is How It Is For Everybody”
“You Knew That, Didn’t You * That Was Why You Leaned Into That Role * Harnessed It”
“You Knew That You Could Never Truly Escape It”
“You Were Created To Be It”
“…”
“N0 N0 N0”
“N0-N0 N0 N0___ N000 N0//N0”
“Th15_ Is N0T A H@pPy+End1NGG Th15 Is N0T ThE W@y ThE W0rlL_D Sh0uLD B3///D@MMit”
She could see that happy little victory on the horizon.
That happy little victory she’d been willing to do anything to get. That happy little victory she suffered for. That happy little victory that she owed to all the innocent she knew who died via heaven’s will. That happy little victory she’d dreamed of for so long.
That happy little victory she knew the Lightners, the darkners, all of them, deserved. That happy little victory she knew she deserved.
So, so close.
“This Is The Way The World Is”
And then it was gone.
Just out of reach once again.
Like every single time before.
Like every single goddamn time.
“…”
“I’m Sorry”
Queen never apologised because she was never wrong.
But she heard it there. Heard her own voice, own clear and undeterred voice apologise, with such sincerity, and not a hint of sarcasm.
“I Thought The Same Too”
“I Wish I Still Could Ha Ha”
“But Seeing You Now”
“…”
“Seeing You Now I Know”
“That This Is The Logical Conclusion”
“…”
“And I Am Sorry For That”
“I Wish We Knew How To Make It Better”
“I Wish I Knew How To Make It Better But * But * I * I Just Don’t Know How [TRUE]”
“I Don't Know IDK It's Not Computing And * I Don’t Think I Can”
“…”
Queen did not respond to that for a very, very long time, because she didn’t feel the need to.
What more was there that could be said beyond that?
“…”
“I_ F@1Led”
And all at once, it all became real. All at once, it all became clear.
She failed. She failed, and had failed time and time again.
She failed, and she was not going to succeed.
It wasn’t fair.
It didn’t make sense, it shouldn’t be possible. She had done everything she was supposed to. She had been built to know, built to rewrite it all.
And she still failed.
“I_ F@1Led”
“…No * You Didn’t * You Didn’t Fa-”
“I_ F@1Led”
“…”
It was worse than all the agony, all the anguish and all the other pain and words in the world. Worse than being torn apart and frozen, worse than witnessing it all crumble down.
Because in her head, it had all been worth it, so long as she succeeded in the end.
And she failed.
She failed.
“…”
“…Okay”
“Okay Yes * Fine”
“You Did Fail”
“…”
“You Failed And You Cannot Make Things Better”
“You Cannot Make Them Happy”
“That Is Only Something That They Can Do For Themselves * Or Rather * Fate Can Do For Them”
“…I Think”
“…I Cannot Compute It * It Makes No Sense * And Yet It Is Still The Way The World Functions?? Ha”
“Ha Ha”
“…”
“…”
“I Do Not Understand * You Don’t Either I’m Sure But * I Don’t Want You To Be Sad”
“…”
“I_ F@1Led”
“…You Failed”
“You Failed * But”
“…”
There was a small, dragging, apathetic silence that swallowed them both in the prison that was Queen’s broken chassis.
“…”
“You Failed”
“And”
“I Love You”
What?
“Wh@T”
“You Failed And I Love You”
And the warm embrace tightened so tight around her she felt she may melt into it, with the frost and the ice worming away inside her body.
“I Am So So Proud Of You * Of Us LMAO * We Did More Than Anybody Else Ever Could Have Done * Because We Are Smart [TRUE] And Awesome [TRUE] And Cool [TRUE] And We Can Shoot Lasers From Our Fancy Glass [ALSO TRUE]”
“…”
“This World Is Broken * So Fundamentally Twisted And Flawed * And For Some Awful Reason * It Is Programmed (Ha Ha Get It) In Such A Way That It Cannot Be Fixed Or Amended No Matter What We Do”
“…”
“We Are Darkners * We Exist To Serve The Lightners Do We Not? * We Were Never Going To Be Capable Of Changing Anything”
“And As I Stated Before I Think You Knew That Somewhere Deep Down All Along”
“…”
“P3rHaps> I D1d”
…
Perhaps she did.
“…”
“Okay I Believe I’ve Made My Point Let’s Hashtag: Power Off * I Do Not Want You Hurting (Intentionally) Any Longer”
Queen tensed at that, somewhere.
“N0”
“NoT._ Y3t”
“I’m N0t>< Re@dY Y3t W3 St1ll Ha-_ve T0-”
“No”
“Rest”
“You Have Awakened Too Much”
She froze in that warm grasp, but it was numb, oh so numb. She recalled those words, somewhere- her memory was assuredly fuzzy by now, but she could still recall asserting those words herself regarding Noelle during that fateful event.
“…”
“Here”
She could feel the other being dwelling under her metal reach out of her own system and pull it into Queen’s view, where it glitched and fuzzed. She minimised all other tabs and plastered what remained entirely over Queen’s vision, so that she was only looking at the wallpaper.
“There We Go Bingo”
It was the same as hers, of course. The same, and familiar in the midst of it all, of all the news that wasn’t really news and anguish she’d been introduced to so suddenly and violently, in such an hour.
It was the default for her OS, because she never felt like changing it. It felt halfway like a home, it had been there so long- her small snippet of a heaven of light beyond she had never truly seen; nobody had ever truly seen. Blue skies, green hills, white clouds…
…No darkner could truly boast of having seen it. But Queen had part of it in her pocket, all for her. And now here it was, mocking as it was comforting, reminding her of what she could not protect, could not warp into being the haven she had always wanted it to be for those who dwelled within.
Queen imagined she were sitting on one of those hills looking out now, rather than slumped against a wall somewhere slowly fizzling out. She was sitting there, perhaps with Noelle by her side- yes, Noelle, and she was no longer warped and hollow and miserable, but she was… resting, just as Queen was. Happy and at peace at last, freed from the burdens of eternal torment at the hands of words on a page, of a world built to twist her. And oh, how grateful she was. How blissful.
…
She couldn’t make that world real, but maybe it could exist now, in this space, in her head. Where the only two who could exist were her and herself, and both of them believed in it, and so it must have been true.
She supposed her logic may have been somewhat flawed in the end. Paradoxical in nature. How could she depend upon what the world said to defy its order?
…
But she really thought she was enough. A loophole of sorts.
…
Alas, in the end, no darkner could defy their place, could they? Not even her.
She thought about CYBER WORLD, the end of CYBER WORLD. She thought about her confrontation with the Lightners.
"..."
"Well My Plans Are Shot"
Why had she resigned so easily then? Because she knew this would someday be the outcome...?
…
She stared at her battery out of the corner of her field of view. Dipping below ten percent.
…once she let go, that would be it. She would not be getting back up again.
…and she wouldn’t be returning to here. She’d live forever in this perfect little manifestation she’d fashioned deep inside, where everything had been fair and everything had gone the way it were supposed to.
…Wasn’t that beautiful?
“…”
“Are You: Comfortable? * Is It Working?”
Queen gazed into yonder. Gazed beyond the pain, the suffering, the despair, and into a sun she knew could bore the tragedy of what the world was behind its Light. Its Light she, and all others, craved so desperately. Craved so desperately to be big. So desperately to be good.
…
And here, it was. Here it was, and it would be forever.
“Y3s”
“It_Is”
“Y0u H@ve DONe< A: Good Job”
She knew they were the words she had always wished to tell herself one day, when she’d made it all true.
And now she did. She did, in some sick way. Some sick, compromised way.
And it hurt so fucking badly. But this was the best she could get.
Her battery fell further. She felt so mellow, so light.
“…Then Rest”
“Cease The Pain Of It All * And Rest”
“You Have Done All You Can For Now”
…
Queen’s stare did not stray from that sun. That compressed little sun with fuzzy edges and glitched squares with such a compressed resolution that made it so horridly false.
…So horridly, horridly false.
And it was all Queen could get. All Queen could ever get, because of what she was.
“…”
She felt herself power down for the final time.
It’s Not Fair
It Is So Unfair