Black Luna

"What did that voice say?" Barion questioned, "Is it something we should be worrying about?"

"P.G.S.P.--Pressurisation and Gravity Simulation Procedure." Witilla explained, "It's a standard operation carried over from when this was a manned station. Of course, with Fusala's enchantments, we never had to worry about the lack of air to begin with… but from now on, the artificial gravity will keep us on the floor."

"People used to watch over this place?"

"Yes. Black Luna was originally designed to be a stealth space-station for use in long-range reconnaissance missions and sabotage. All of the external weapons systems have been removed, however."

"Waging war across the stars…" Barion muttered, "I can't begin to understand just how advanced these Caretakers of yours were. Even uniting a single planet under one flag seems impossible."

"My knowledge of the precursor 'Humanity' responsible for the creation of Black Luna is limited, but I know that their systems of government and legislation have experienced many reformations. The resultant society is one of pure efficiency where one's talents are identified and assigned to the most suitable occupation from the day of their birth."

"Does that make them happy?"

"That is… a very difficult question." Witilla paused, "...We should proceed to the equipment lock."

Walking forward, the spiralling aperture leading further into the station opened to reveal a similarly-sized room with rows of empty alcoves punched into the walls. Clustered tubes ran like intestines along the chamber's ceiling, and a low whirring shook the ground beneath Barion's feet.

"These spaces would have originally held the environmental suits used by humans entering and leaving the station." Witilla explained, "-Since it's no longer manned, the suits were moved to other installations."

"Were you ever allowed near this place?" He asked.

"N-No…" She frowned, "Actually… the space I was assigned to was terribly small. It was a three-room containment cell. My siblings were each confined within their own cells--larger ones, to suit their size, though I was never allowed to see them."

"I take it that means you don't know the way?"

"Not exactly…" She admitted, "However, bear in mind that this station was designed with human traversal in mind. Making our way to the mother intelligence shouldn't pose too much of a challenge."

The third aperture opened to expose a yawning chasm of darkness stretching out in every direction. The single, alabaster walkway hovering over the abyss connected the equipment lock to another room far in the distance. Below, a number of small flying machines crossed the chamber in a single line, occasionally breaking off from the formation to cast cerulean lights at the various fixtures bolted to the walls. The dim headlamps of their curved faces illuminated the darkness as Barion and Witilla proceeded across the walkway.

"These floating machines… are they dangerous?" He asked.

"Caretaker Drones are responsible for identifying and repairing any faults in Black Luna's infrastructure." Witilla explained, "I believe constructs such as these are used extensively by precursor humans. Even when this station was manned, many of the responsibilities attached to it were handled by the Caretakers."

"Won't they break down some day? A tool can only last for so long."

"They're self-replicating." She replied, "Which is to say, if one Caretaker breaks down, another can be created to replace it. Advancements in the recycling of materials also prevents the station from having to seek replacement parts."

"You almost sound like a different person when you're explaining all this."

"I… well…" She stammered, "It was once my home, after all… and, humanity's accomplishments are genuinely fascinating."

"I can't deny that what I'm seeing is impressive." He replied, "Is it really possible for beings as simple as us to create something so complex?"

"It's the nature of mankind to brave new frontiers, after all."

"But, at the same time… doesn't that make the existence of Black Luna even more unforgivable?" Barion lowered his head, "The people who created it--they're the same as us, aren't they? They have emotions and ambitions just as complicated as ours… so why would they ever torture us with something as horrible as Demonkind?"

"That… I'm afraid I don't know the answer." Witilla admitted, "It was the purpose of this experiment from the very beginning to expose humanity as the 'ideal' evolutionary conclusion… but now that it's been proven correct, why do the inhabitants of your planet continue to suffer?"

"Black Luna… can an artificial being really be trusted with overseeing the history of an entire planet?" Barion asked, "What's stopping it from pursuing its own ambitions? Or is this 'mother intelligence' not quite as impressive as I'm making it out to be?"

"As an artificial construct, the mother intelligence must abide by the three laws of robotics." Witilla explained, "Put simply--a robot must never bring harm to a human, through inaction or otherwise, must obey orders so long as they don't conflict with the first law, and must protect its own existence, provided such action would not interfere with the first and second laws."

"It doesn't have free will." Barion summarised.

"Free will… would you say stripping a construct of its ability to disobey is unethical?"

"I wouldn't bother giving it the desire to disobey in the first place."

"That is precisely how modern robots are created." She revealed, "One might say that they enjoy their work, in the same manner that a worker ant may enjoy its complete loyalty to the queen of the colony."

"What's left for humans to do when all the work is automated?"

"I hope we'll find the answers to such questions deeper in the station."

The smooth metallic gate at the end of the bridge opened with a strange sound. Behind it was a well-lit chamber which appeared far less mechanical than the dark chasm. Painted ceiling to floor in blinding white, Barion was forced to cover his eyes for a moment as the door snapped shut behind them. A central, encircling desk was flanked by the elevated second-half of the room. Doors of varying sizes were slotted into the walls perfectly, and a glass rectangle at the rear end of the room seemed to extend into the ceiling.

"This is an atrium." Witilla explained, "Another relic from when humans used to occupy the station. There are several hundred of these chambers throughout the installation, although this one is slightly larger because it's near an entrance."

"Why waste all this space if there aren't any humans here?"

"Black Luna's original purpose as a stealth satellite necessitated the accommodation of humans to pilot the station. When its duty changed to that of an unmanned observatory, many facilities were simply kept in place to cut costs, and to make traversing the station simpler if it ever needed to be entered again."

Witilla paced over to the table in the centre of the atrium. A number of fluorescent rectangles were attached to the desk with vices, each of them displaying the image of a rolling hillside.

"We should be able to access a map of the station from this computer." The girl hopped over the counter and placed her hands on a strange-looking device marked with indecipherable symbols.

"C-Computer…?" Barion muttered, "...Wait, I recognise this. Manyu and I saw something similar in the Demonic Facility below Kahrein-Du'em…"

"Uh… if I stop to explain every little thing, it'll be days before we reach the mother intelligence…" Witilla replied, "A computer is… a container of information, you could say. But it can also act as a console, to interface with other kinds of electronic equipment on the station."

"I'm… not certain I understand what that means…"

"It's helpful. There should be a map of the station stored on these atrium computers…" Her fingers clattered against the strange device on the desk, "...Here we are."

As Barion vaulted over the desk, the image on the screen depicted an overhead view of Black Luna's various facilities. As Witilla clicked a strange peripheral device, the image changed to show the station's various levels.

"This language is similar to the one we saw in the Demonic facility…" Barion commented, "Is this the written word of humanity?"

"One of many. Black Luna was manufactured by an intergalactic nation who used the 'English' language to communicate, but this computer also supports the other 11,000-or-so recognised languages of humanity."

"11,000… if they've conquered the very stars, then I suppose it only makes sense that there would be so many." He replied, "Humanity isn't a single entity, then? Do they have allegiances of their own?"

"I'm afraid I was only allowed to learn so much about that…" Witilla answered, "But, I would assume that war and conflict are still common events among humanity… this station was intended for spying, after all."

"Wars that span the night sky… is there really any point in fighting for what you believe in when an individual can barely accomplish anything by themselves?"

"In that way… maybe Black Luna is a mercy." Witilla replied, "Heroes don't exist in the real world. Only those with ambition, who rely on corrupt and illegitimate means to accomplish their goals, can ascend the ladder. But here, on this planet, the 'Hero' can always be expected to deliver justice."

"Hm." Barion crossed his arms, "And the Demon King will always oppose him. But things can't remain so black-and-white. Forcing this dichotomous conflict on our planet distracts us from the real issues… and not even those created to suit heroic purposes, like myself and Manyu, can be expected to perpetuate the cycle."

"Yes… the fact that we were afforded intelligence comparable to that of modern humans… perhaps that is the errant factor which will result in Black Luna destruction." Witilla extended a finger towards the screen, "Please look here, Barion."

On the screen was an image of Black Luna's middlemost layer. A circular chamber in the centre, much larger than anything else on the map, seemed to draw the eye away from anything else.

"This is the Central Processing Unit, or CPU." She explained, "Destroying this is our goal."

"We need only get there." He summarised, "Easier said than done, I imagine."

"The most straightforward route would take us through the 3rd-floor research labs and containment cells. Thankfully, my siblings are no longer present, meaning our trip should be… mostly uneventful."

"Mostly?"

"Only authorised personnel are permitted to enter those facilities… if we were to break the doors down, an alarm would sound and we would be quickly overrun by combat-retrofitted Caretakers."

"Surely they can't be any worse than Demons?"

"Their laser weapons would not only be lethal, but also near-impossible to evade. Imagine the power of a Laser-Class Angel condensed into a miniature, flying form. And we would be facing off against thousands of them."

"What other choice do we have?"

"W-Well…" Clicking the strange device yet again, Witilla accessed another layer of the map, "If we took a detour to the medical wing… we could use the autosurgeons to implant ourselves with the access chips needed to enter the laboratories… that would see us safely all the way to the mother intelligence…"

"I-Implant…?"

"Oh, the procedure would be completely painless…" She assured, "The wing requires no access level to enter, and most of the medical equipment should still be in excellent condition."

"I see…" He replied hesitantly, "And how would we get there?"

"The elevator in this room should take us straight to it…"

Inputting some kind of command into the clacking device, a hollow thunk suddenly erupted from the back of the atrium. As Barion turned his head, he witnessed a floating room suspended by the glass rectangle extending into the ceiling lowering towards the ground.

"Come." Witilla beckoned, "We shouldn't waste any time."

"We're getting into that thing?" Barion blinked, "What if it falls?"

"I-It won't…"

"How can you be so sure? It looks like an accident waiting to happen…"

"Elevators are perfectly safe… they only get stuck in fringe cases. There are plenty of failsafes in place to prevent them from falling."

"Oh dear…" Barion scratched the back of his head as he followed after her, "This is all a little too much for me…"