---

…

I open my eyes— and I am graced with the sight of blue, cloudy skies on a sunny day. It's perfect… but just so wrong. Nothing is perfect. Machines are perfect. Equations are perfect.

The world is not perfect.

I close my eyes again. This is all too much. I had thought I had begun to understand this realm… only to have the wool pulled off of my eyes, as the human expression goes.

Oh well.

There is nowhere to go but forward.

I bring myself to my feet, finally taking the time to "size up" my companion. He seems rather unprepared for this excursion. Does he not know the dangers ahead, or does he not care?

He continues to talk over himself for the next five minutes. I stop listening around halfway through— I've heard enough. The faster we finish the mission, the faster I can go home and sleep all of this off.


My thoughts are stowed away as I scan the area for anything… unusual. All that graces my eyes is the unsettling, picturesque landscape. After staring into this illusory world, I finally begin to realize why everything feels… off.


Spec rolls his eyes. I do not understand why.


I am confused by this comment— most of the words out of his mouth seem… backwards. It's very hard to describe the feeling. I must tell Anthony about this exchange… perhaps he and the other Circle linguists will be able to inform me of this strange "accent."




Spec and I ascend the stairs to the large building— only to find the front door locked.




I reach my hand towards the metal door, intending to simply move the cubes away as I always do. However, I am unable. I have never experienced anything like this— it's almost as if they're being pulled back into place. I strain against this invisible magnetism— pulling with my entire body. My unease grows by the second— something is terribly wrong here, but I am not sure what.

I luckily manage to get one loose— the cube containing the opposite side of the lock. I give the bolt a switch, and the door swings open.

As I turn back to my companion, I notice he's turned a few shades paler than usual. Something is wrong with his eyes as well— were they always this green?










I enter the building, ignoring Spec's mumbling once again. He quickly follows, grabbing his head with his hands as he continues to spew what Anthony calls "word salad."

The building is dark— and very much in disrepair compared to the exterior. My skin begins to glow, and I notice Spec's eyes doing something similar. This is new to me— I decide to ask him about it.


Spec gives me a strange look.








Just as we are about to ascend the stairs to the second floor, I hear a clicking sound above. Footsteps.


Not good. I do not know the specifics of the 'system,' but I know enough to deduce that our 'cover' has long since been blown. Something is coming— and has been expecting us for a while now.

As Spec and I remain frozen in a mix of confusion and the necessity to stay silent, a high pitched click causes us to hit the floor.


The sound is accompanied by the pausing of the footsteps above us— to which they begin again, this time moving quickly in the opposite direction. Just as I begin to wonder what's going on, a loud shattering sound comes from our left, and we see a short figure in a red sweatshirt fall from the second-story window. It hits the ground running, sprinting off down the street.


I quickly cover Spec's mouth with my hand. He may not feel what I do, but I have a suspicion this was far from the only being in the building with us.


As I suspected, the thundering of dozens of shoes hitting the ground in unison begin to shake the roof above. One by one, we watch as the strange beings in colorful sweatshirts dive from the window just as the first did— all running in the same direction.



I jump at the sudden voice behind me. That's the second time today this has happened… I am starting to grow tired of the experience.


I remove my hand from in front of Spec's mouth— I had forgotten to let him go after the danger subsided.


I do not understand these words— much less the odd single-closed-eye expression Joey gives me after pulling down his sunglasses. Spec is already difficult for me to comprehend, but the speech of this one is like a separate language entirely. Spec seems to be able to interpret Joey Q's message just fine though, as he promptly slaps the new arrival across the face.




Joey begins pacing around in circles with his hands on his head, in some human expression of agitation.



Spec glares at me— though I can tell it isn't because of my own actions. He turns around back towards Joey, snapping his fingers at him.

---

Joey Q has been attempting to regale us with tales of personal achievement for the past half-hour. I fail to see how anything I've experienced today is of any relevance to the Circle in the slightest… perhaps Anthony was right with his theory…



Well that's reassuring. My so-called 'teammate' for this journey is bailing before the mission has even begun. Oh well, it's not like he was being useful. Joey and I wait until he disappears around a street corner to begin our conversation. Perhaps I would finally gain something of value.





Joey Q gives me a slack-jawed expression, as if he cannot believe what he's hearing. I don't quite see the issue with my words— I thought I had gained at least somewhat of a command of the English language. Shouldn't Spec's 'Babel Balm' be solving this issue?




Joey then proceeds to perform the most odd string of actions I've witnessed today— he licks his right hand, snaps his sunglasses in half, and then slaps himself in the face with his saliva-covered palm.

To my surprise however, after he has completed this strange personal ritual, he is able to move the cubes— selecting one from in front of myself, and changing it from air into solidified concrete.

This is intriguing to me. Styxians are all able to move the cubes naturally— something I found is rather uncommon for most species in this new realm. Even with great assistance, it has been difficult to even explain the concept to my colleagues in Team Hermes. Yet here was a human, performing the task with utmost efficiency (despite the requirement of his preparations), something I had long deemed impossible.

I say nothing in response. All of this poses many questions that may have to remain unanswered for the time being— at least until I can get all of this back to Anthony. Perhaps the scientific minds at the Circle will be able to better comprehend the cubes now that I have a human example.

Joey Q scratches his head. It would appear he is growing uncomfortable with the silence.



Before I can get a word in, a scraping sound rings out through the air— the echoing noise shattering all the windows on the street. Joey Q covers his ears in pain, practically falling over. Humans have such a fragile handling of sound frequencies…


The situation just grows even stranger from here. The blue of the sky itself seems to… 'wash over' the endless fluffy clouds dotting it. It begins taking on a brighter hue, and to my surprise, large words begin appearing, as if being scrawled onto the air itself.


I pause to observe the message. This is a far different troubleshoot than the ones I am used to… much more primitive.


I turn to the direction Joey is facing— only to see a legion of the sweatshirt creatures from earlier. Both ends of the road are blocked, yet all they seem to be doing is standing in formation.





Not but a second later, a third party has made themself known. A young girl sporting bright blue hair with dark streaks is hovering slightly above the ground— and looking like she wants to strangle Joey Q almost as much as Spec did.





I do not understand why Joey Q would find me "attractive." The size needed to generate a significant gravitational pull is simply nowhere near what my 115kg mass can achieve. Perhaps this is another one of those "double-meaning" words. It would explain a lot of the conversation earlier.








"Koko" appears to sigh, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. Can a machine even get agitated? I've never seen anything like this before. Perhaps it's best to seek a way out on my own.


The artificial woman snaps her fingers, and Spec is suddenly lying on the ground in between the three of us.


Spec looks around, quickly standing up and brushing himself off.


Spec nods up towards the sky, still displaying its odd blue and white message.




Joey extends his hand for a high-five, and Spec looks visibly repulsed.


I decide to address Koko.



That doesn't sound very good.


Joey Q's voice trails off as Koko lays into him. She is speaking at such a speed that I am unable to make out most of the words— but they do not seem to be very happy ones. It's somewhat satisfying to watch— and I'm only broken out of this entertainment by Spec tapping me on the shoulder.




Spec crouches down to the sidewalk, placing his hand on one of the panels. I presume he's about to try a "noclip," but he never gets the chance.

anomaly_detected.
troubleshooting…
diagnosis_complete.
data_is_corrupt

Spec is thrown across the street, slamming into the side of one of the digital houses.