My eyelids sluggishly parted, then I came to a sudden wake. I quickly looked around the room and scrambled to get away, my feet slipping in the red-grey blood spread across the floor. I rushed back up the stairs at a speed I had never moved before, tripping a step down for every few up. 

Down the hallway I came to a stop under the sign for Zone 3. A stinging sensation pierced my mind. I shuddered in exhaustion and shakily reached to my face; my left faceplate had been severely fractured. The bottom eyelid on that side had also been dislodged; the small semicircular plate had slid under my left ear pad, putting further stress on the side of my head.

I stared briefly at the blood on my hand. Grey, marbled with pinkish-red.

I turned and continued moving through the facility, tripping over my own feet as I navigated to the top of the structure. I passed through Zone 2 and took a detour to go further up to Zone 1 - the top of the facility.

———

I forced a door open and my eyes were bombarded with light. They reflexively closed and I collapsed over a table in the middle of a circular room. Loose paper shuffled under my back and pearls clanged to the floor.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. A round grey ceiling was revealed to me, lined with broken lamps and dusty loose metal plating. If I had lungs, I would have sighed at the lack of visual improvement.

With my hands on my chest, I turned to look at the light. Large windows revealed a deep blue sky dotted with moving green specks. The dimly glowing satellites slowly arced over the abyss, drawing my eyes to the sun. The point of brightness hung in the sky, delicately coating the clouds below me in an ochre sheet. I had never properly seen the sun before, not without clouds or electronics in the way…

I rolled off the table and onto the carpet towards a window - the northeast one. On the floor was a symbol. A cross with a caret pointing up beneath it, the same as the once-glowing glyph on my forehead. I figured the wreck of my structure would be sitting below the clouds in that direction.

Cross-legged, I placed myself at the window, leaning my forehead on the glass. A mountain ridge peeked through the clouds to the east. That ridge was called The Barrier - I remember it bringing many challenges when we were constructing Hills. 

To the southeast, Hills’ structure stood firmly above the clouds, sitting coated in intricate machinery and a small city on top. The communications towers looked shorter than usual - they were damaged.

For the first time in a while, I felt bad for him. Those comms were one of the few things he had dedicated himself to. I hoped he knew I was okay - he cared even if he didn’t act like it. I hoped that he was alright.

I looked to the northwest and my eyelids hung more. There was no structure in front of the green symbol. The… thing… in the basement was right. 

Observant Pillars is dead.

I slowly dropped back down to the floor, keeping my eyes fixated on the empty horizon. I raised my hand to cover my non-existent mouth, still staring at the clouds. My sister’s corpse was under there, likely deformed and distorted beyond comprehension; her mind amalgamated into a melting pot of eternal suffering.

It hurt. A lot. I never fully understood pain like this, but I knew it hurt. Usually in this sort of situation I would send a message to someone and try to help…

I looked to the southwest. A structure stood high in the sky, with a SkyRail line leading into it. 

I can go see Searcher.

Somehow, it has only been 100 cycles since I lost all communications. It feels a lot longer than that.

Don’t care.

Okay, thanks for your consideration, mysterious figure in the big factory. Very helpful.

Left.

I’m going left.

Further left.

This cable can only turn so much. I don’t see you trying to drag out a 3 kilometre hose.

Forward 12.

That pipe isn’t easy to reach. 

Shut.

I continued to stumble down the stairs and clambered into a SkyRail cargo drop off zone. The tiling was scratched down the whole length of the room, and one end was lit by the open air. The rail line through the middle looked like a long suspended I-beam, and I could see the second half of the station mirrored below like a reflection in a lake.

SkyRail stations, like the vehicles themselves, are symmetrical with gravity disruptors in the rail that keep the contents on both sides of the central floor. Each individual station has an emergency gravity field that could be activated by buttons on the ceiling. They would only be accessible in the case of a gravitational anomaly, and out of reach otherwise. A commendable design, I had to admit.

I was far too short to reach the buttons above me, so I made my way further down the station to find an access point. There were marks where old flyers had once been stuck to the heavy concrete columns, but they had decayed long ago. I wondered what they once said… probably political statements. Maybe advertisements for a program that would be run in this facility. I imagined a young engineer’s first exposure to the laboratories; their slightly concerned expression hidden under a brass mask as a tour guide showed them the half-formed flesh globs.

A large hole in the ground revealed the roof of the bottom half of the station. I climbed down the ergonomic Just-In-Case ladder (Trademark) that I DESIGNED for quick and easy emergency travel. They had asked me to make a SkyRail station access point many years ago… or did they make me review their designs? I had lost a lot of memories. I vaguely recalled the design being highly praised by my administrator.

The rungs were slightly too far apart.

I dropped off the ladder and onto the under-ceiling feet-first, pressing a button. I then dropped off the ceiling head-first onto the flipped bottom-floor as gravity swapped without consideration for my sense of balance. Shakily, I stood and hopped off the platform, another milder gravity field pulling me over the gap and onto the side of the rail. Flat against the side beam and staring into the edge of the platform, I shimmied to the top side and waited for my head to stop spinning - that was very confusing. It already hurt enough as is missing a chunk of my shell.

Now on the previously inaccessible rail, I began the trek to Frantic Searcher’s structure.

Frantic Searcher. A sharp-cornered arrangement of blue shades suspended in the air, a silent wake. He organised a collection of holograms and moved some pearls into storage before pressing the record button on a memory storage tab.

“This is log sixteen-fifty-five point six-oh-one,” he said in a remarkably calm voice. It was smooth, with a comfortable depth.

“I have synthesised the organism,” he continued, “it took… far too long. Sixty cycles on full processing power to decode, with some of that allocated to production. This has been highly intensive on my resources.”

“I say this because I may distribute this log file in the future. I have had time to consider, and I do believe that having safe access to death is a good idea for iterators across the planet. As such, I will not be using this on myself, but will rather have the information available. It may be put on the universal genome database with sufficient support… unlikely, but possible.”

His voice lost some assurance. Some plates in the walls moved out of the way, and two vials emerged. One was dull green, the other dark blue. Following them was a large chunk of iterator machinery. It was freshly picked, still leaking with various unpleasant fluids.

“It must be reiterated that this is an incredibly dangerous procedure, and I intend to demonstrate that on an iterator sample. I have synthesised both a successful organism as well as a failed one. This failed sample is rot. It can kill.”

Discreetly, a pale blue sliver darted into the room. It reformed in front of Searcher, showing a large eye and various tendrils suspended in a translucent semi-holographic form. Searcher looked at it, his four aperture-like eyes focusing on the creature.

“Excuse me, I must pause briefly.” The recording halted, and he spoke to the creature. The procedure continued autonomously behind him, and the samples distributed themselves.

“Scribe. You’re back. Where did you go? Why are you here?”

Without words, it projected an image onto the wall.

The sky turned dark as I jogged along the rail line, particles of rust crumbling off and falling into the clouds below. The green dots in the sky were complimented by a brightly lit moon suspended above. I was moving with speed, faster than I ever had; the need to see my brother filled me with determination. 

A blue sliver shot past me, barreling down the rail line. It stopped, returned, and formed into a weird overseer. Its large eye stared at me. The distinctive blue hue gave me some hope.

“Searcher?” I said, “Is this your overseer? I’m coming soon. I have a lot to explain.”

Before I even finished my sentence, it began to emit a yellow laser into the air, piercing the sky with a light squealing sound. It blinked green, and the overseer darted away as quickly as it had come. I sighed, staring at the structure in the distance it had retreated to.

As I went to take my first step, an ochre glow lit me from behind. I turned to see two massive glowing eyes on a round head, split by a long sharp-toothed beak. A black leathery neck connected it to a rounded body with four wings adorned in red-orange metal feathers. It stood on its wings, and stared deep into my soul… as is the nature of the MIROS vulture.

I froze in fear of the creature. It was designed to kill. The hardened teeth and metal wings were made to cut skin and crush bones. Its giant yellow eyes could see prey from miles away - only weak to bright lights of which I had none. Four wings and gas thruster propulsion gave it incredible speed, all the more effective in slaughtering prey.

I certainly did not expect it to reach out a wing, gently pick me up, and lift me into the air.

Searcher’s eyes focused further in on the image, his figurative pupils narrowing to near pinpoints.

“This cannot be possible. How are they… What? I…” he continued to stutter. His figurative heart skipped a beat at the thought. It should not be physically possible for an iterator to survive outside of their structure for this long; all that grief for nothing, he thought.

“Years. It’s been years.” He looked at the Scribe, and gestured at the exit, “Get him here!”

Almost on cue, a purple glint emerged from the entrance pipe. Frantic Searcher and Fallen Deity’s eyes met for the first time, and Searcher pushed away the nearby chunk of iterator matter that was being tested on.

“Searcher, Searcher!” Deity exclaimed as he clambered out of the pipe. His familiar metallic sheen had been overtaken by greying purple and equally dull stains. The comforting appearance he once had - the expressive colour in his eyes - was naught to be seen.

“By the void, I’ve missed you so much! You have no idea… I came here on a MIROS vulture! And I’m alive! It’s- I have so much to-”

The anti-gravity ceased, and Searcher silently floated down to the floor. Still, he had to look down to see his poor brother. His voice was absent, much like the non-existent mouth he held his hand over. He tapped his lower-right eye to make sure it was seeing correctly - it was.

“Deity… I’ve been… this isn’t… I dont know!” he struggled to arrange his words, “How are you here?”

“I- I.. I dunno!” Deity responded excitedly, “Come here man!”

Searcher stepped forward to greet his sibling. Overwhelmed with relief, he didn’t even notice the pressure in his head or the dark blue cysts on his hand.

Such a shame, square man.

Searcher’s mechanical eyes burst from his faceplate, dark sludge pouring from the now open wounds. He fell to his elbows and groaned a loud distorted groan. Deity jumped back at the sudden incident.

“What the f[///]ck!?” Deity yelled at the writhing masses of blackened ooze between them. The bright lighting dulled into a dark glow, and holographic warning messages appeared:

[[!!WARNING: INFECTION DETECTED!!]]

Deity struggled to address his brother, still firmly on his arms and legs with the substance dripping from his face, “Searcher… wha- what’s happening?”

“I- I- I… thther’ere’s… mist-st-sta-kee…” Searcher stuttered as his voice synthesisers failed. His body tensed and fell silent, shivering in pain.

Deity stood frozen, his hands still instinctively between them. Searcher looked up to his brother, but was blinded by a bright blue cross-shaped lesion in each eye.

Deity knew all he needed to know.