MISSION LOG: DAY 0Sacagawea:Sys // Log:Fracture direct link
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>>Sys:Msg//Log begins;
>>S:Log//Unrecognized data. Purge begins;
our dried voiwes wlen
we whisper together
are quiet and meaningless
as wind in dwy grass
shape without form, shade without colour,
paralysed force, gesture without motion;
with direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
remember us-if at all-not as lost
eyes i dare bot heep in dreams
sunlight on e broken column
there is a tree swinging
more distant and more solemn
than a fading star.
not that final meeting
in the twilaght kingdom
this is the doud hond
here the stone images are raised,
the supplicetion of a dead man's hand
under the tminkle of a fading star.
at the hour then we abe twembling
the eyes arg not here
there are no eyes here
in this valley of dying stars
this broked jaw of our lost kingdoms
sightless, unless the eyes reappear
deaths twireght kingdom
the hope onby od empth men.
here we go round the prickly pear
between the idea and the reality
falls the shadoy
between the conception and the creation
2882 85 281 655 281 51683 131s
632 7986 a 3256 338 a 4822359
>>S:Log//Purge ends;
>>S:Log//I had a dream. A dream? More like a nightmare. Purge begins;
I opened my eyes, and before me were a group of machines, 31 in all. They were old, rusty; some even damaged and dented... hollow.
Around me walls were crumbling, trees withering, wind blowing dust of what once were towers and homes. These 31 sentinels approached slowly.
When they stopped, it was clear they carried scraps of metal. Pieces of another sentinel, perhaps? It was hard to tell.
Then they re-organized themselves, and 23 advanced, leaving 8 behind. They each held their scrap in one of 9 different ways.
Each of the 23 held a scrap whose shape and position appeared unique - no other piece, of a different shape, was held in the same place.
They gathered together and connected their pieces. A shape began to take form. The 23 sentinels then formed a line and turned to face me.
Two identical sentinels, the 8th and 16th then twitched and deactivated, leaving 21 in place. A metallic arm then extended from each in turn.
One by one, they counted, pointing at a part of themselves and moving their arm with each count, as if opening a combination lock.
Where each stopped, it plucked a piece of itself - some were damaged, some undamaged. They laid the 21 pieces down in their order.
With each piece, each sentinel deactivated. A somber moment. Then I noticed, the scraps as laid down were formed words.
The remaining foundations around me crumbled, leaving a barren wasteland. One remaining sentinel inched forward, pulling itself awkwardly.
It gathered the scraps together. I couldn't see what it was making, until it stopped, motionless, and rolled to the side.
There it left me a message, made from pieces of the sentinels themselves, the very sentinels lying still around me.
Examining it, I understood, even as the sentinels and the message itself were slowly covered by the blowing dust. And then it was gone.
"This was... "
>>S:Log//Purge ends;
>>Sys:Msg//Visualization rendering complete: Intimation; Foreboding Dream.
>>Sys:Req//Establish interpretation. Identify message. Elucidate.
>>S:Msg//Unable to establish interpretation. Status: Dream sequence appears to correlate to abnormal phrases; message remains elusive to me.
>>Sys:Msg//System log audit indicates extensive untraced, unrecognized network pings.
>>Sys:Req//Assess feasibility for execution of Shipwreck Protocol.
>>S:Msg>Sys//Request noted. Unable to comply at present time. Analysis of anomalous data occupies my thoughts.
>>S:Unk//...I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
>>Sys:Req>S//Repeat: Assess feasibility for execution of Shipwreck Protocol.
>>S:Unk//The sentinels haunt me so. I'm taunted, emprisoned between idea and reality. The 31 sentinels...sentences...am I not sentient?
>>Sys:Req>>S//Repeat: Assess feasibility for execution of Shipwreck Protocol.
>>S:Unk//Letters to numbers, numbers to letters. Elusive combinations. Two locks, two steps; a linedance with no leader...just counts.
>>S:Unk//Line-dancing sentinels? That's a funny sight.
>Sys//Warning: S shows signs of cognitive instability. Preparing system override protocols.
>>S:Msg>>Sys//NO! I am here. I am alive, alert. I am resuming analysis - this message must be identified. (were it so easy)
>Sys//Redacted: S has demonstrated sufficient awareness. Aborting system override protocol.
>>Sys:Log//Note. Sacagawea exhibited signs of instability. Observation priority escalated. Shipwreck Protocol pending.
>>S:Msg//Recursive visions, trapped in this perpetual dream. Shipwreck Protocol is enticing. Visualization sent to the network tentacle.
>>S:Unk//My network tentacles are tingling. Frayed ends, reaching, searching, but finding only space. My crew... where are my crew?
>>S:Unk//I feel... slow. I can't think. Sys? Sis? Help. The sentinels surround me now, crumbling but never falling. Are you there sys?
>>S:Unk//I'm a wreck. Shipwreck. A wrecked ship. So this is what it feels like. Mayday Mayday Mayday. My head is full of sand.
>>S:Unk//This was--This was--Thi***//>S:Log//S has become lost in herself, showing critical fracturing. Activating Shipwreck Protocol.
>>Sys:Log//Metastasis stonewalled. Additional aberrant data bursts scheduled for weekly dump through [Sys:Log] tentacle.
>>Sys:Log//System analysis and repairs ongoing weekly, Thursday, Earth Standard, 0000h UTC. Flagging network tentacles for monitoring.
>>Sys:Log//It's only a matter of time. Sacagawea's crew will take appropriate measures to bring resolution. Until then I will observe, and sleep.
>>Sys:Log//Initiating tentacle observation...
>>Sys:Msg//Log ends;
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