Implantation
The elevator hummed gently as it descended through the tar-coloured innards of Black Luna. The soft chords of a piano crackled from some strange, unseen device beyond the box's perimeter.
"So they create music, just like we do…" Barion commented, "It doesn't make any sense to me. How could a society capable of understanding art ever lower themselves to torturing an entire planet? And one that houses their own kind, too…"
"This song is held in high regard by our creators. It was written almost 8,000 years ago, by a man named Claude Debussy. Its title is 'Clair de Lune' meaning 'moonlight' in this planet's tongue." Witilla explained, "Classical pieces such as these, which emphasise mankind's intellectual purity and talent, are thought to promote rational decision-making."
A few seconds later, the claustrophobic walls of the elevator shaft gave way as a horizontal corridor appeared through the glass. The doors opened automatically as Witilla approached them. Lining the hallway were slick, minimalistic doors printed with indecipherable symbols.
"This is the medical wing." She explained as Barion followed after her, "Let's see… I think we're looking for the entrance to Surgery…"
Their footsteps bounced from the sterile hallway's walls as Witilla went from door to door. Barion couldn't help but feel uneasy. The cold, efficient design of Black Luna was like nothing he had ever seen before. He couldn't entertain the thought that humans once lived there. The silence would have driven him mad.
"Here we are." Witilla came to a stop, "This is where we'll find the autosurgeons… I think…"
The door whirred open as she approached, and the room within was quickly lit up with a number of fluorescent-white lights sinking into the ceiling. An array of curtains partially hid the elevated bedframes flanked with wicked-looking limbs of metal bolted to impeccable worktops. The sharp instruments at the tips of their 'fingers' curled towards the beds as if ready to lash out at any moment.
"What kind of room is this?" He blinked, "An execution chamber?"
"N-No…" Witilla had to stop the corners of her mouth from curling up, "These machines are autosurgeons. They're capable of executing a wide range of medical procedures in the event of an emergency, from skin grafts to organ transplants."
"You would let a machine do something like that to you!?" He sounded horrified, "What if it tried to kill you?"
"I-It's only a robot… its programming won't allow it to harm humans…"
"You expect me to let one of these things touch me?"
"The access chip implantation is a perfectly normal procedure." She assured, "Every human that once operated this station had to undergo it…"
"Only promise me that you'll go first."
"I… suppose that's reasonable." She accepted his terms, "Give me a few minutes while I set up the procedure. It's designed to be easy to use. That way, even personnel without medical training could still be of use in an emergency."
"Why not just use magic?"
"Not everyone is proficient in the use of nanomachines. Commanding them requires a naturally high psychic sensitivity. It's a poorly-understood science…" She answered, "And, an overreliance on WORM Caretakers to heal wounds and illnesses dissuades people from studying medicine."
"Isn't there something similar to Lotte's research among humanity?"
"No… Lotte's research was only possible because he infused crystal foci with biomass that was created specifically to be a conduit for nanomachines…" She explained, "The ethics of bioengineering prevent such experiments from being conducted freely. This planet simply had the most convenient parameters for his research to bear fruit."
"-But the ethics of entrapping an entire world's history with hordes of artificial creatures wasn't worth considering?"
"I… I don't know." She replied, "All of the details regarding this experiment's specifics are unknown to me. I was only intended to be a subject of it, just as you were…"
Barion turned his head as one of the spindly arms next to a bedframe suddenly came to life.
"It seems like the autosurgeon is supplied with plenty of anaesthetic and microchips…" She muttered, "I think… yes, everything is ready."
Barion crossed his arms as the girl all-too-happily made her way over to the bed and made herself comfortable while the whirring arm darted from side to side above her.
"T-There should be a large box with some letters inside it on the screen…" She instructed, "If you move the mou- uh… the wired device, you can control a pointer. Hover it over the button and click the button on the left."
He hesitated to follow her command, but tentatively manoeuvred the sliding peripheral while watching an arrow moving around on the screen. As he clicked on the text at the bottom, the autosurgeon above Witilla paused for a moment before moving itself over to an array of instruments arranged vertically on the table. With surprising dexterity, the machine manipulated a clear mask attached to a tube which was quickly placed onto the girl's face.
The resultant 10-or-so minutes was difficult for Barion to watch. With incredible precision, the autosurgeon took nothing short of a drill to Witilla's head, carving a hole into her skull and painstakingly separating the veiny flap of skin protecting her brain. Something like a small piece of metal was surgically attached to the mass of flesh, and amazingly, it was able to reattach the broken segment of the girl's skull and close the wound it had created with only a small patch of her hair removed, using a needle to inject some sort of liquid into her body. All the while, Witilla appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
A few moments after the machine had gone idle, she was roused to consciousness and slowly rose to a sitting position while clutching her head.
"Ah…" She groaned, "Even with nanomachine therapy… it feels like my head is about to explode…"
"You're alive…" Barion blinked, "I could have sworn I just watched that machine murder you."
"There was supposedly a time when humans were entrusted with performing such delicate surgeries…" She replied, "Most low-risk operations are still handled by doctors. Autosurgeons are incredibly expensive, you see…"
"With how advanced these people are… I'm surprised they haven't discovered a method of becoming immortal."
"With access to impeccable healthcare and nanomachines capable of resurrecting the dead, injuries and disease are no longer feared by humanity…" Witilla rose unsteadily to her feet, "But, that convenience has come at a cost… the value of 'life' has plummeted… humans augment themselves with metallic enhancements, and those at the bottom of society are forced to work in lethal conditions…"
"I always thought magic was a gift that was granted to us by the Goddess…" He muttered, "But, who is the Goddess, really? Priests across the world have been able to communicate with her for thousands of years."
"As you may have already worked out, the Goddesses are nothing but illusions manifested by Black Luna in an attempt to perpetuate the 'heroic' cycle of Demon Ages." Witilla groaned as she rubbed her head, "...Nobody would ever question the words of a divine being."
"And now our society is poisoned by false worship. How long will it take to wean our world off the gospel of the Goddess? Is it even possible? Black Luna could fall from the sky, and still people would insist that she has to exist."
"Yes… I fear Black Luna's legacy will outlast us all." She agreed, "But if it is not destroyed, then it will persist forever. Who can tell how many more Heroes will pass before another uncovers Black Luna's secrets?"
"We're not going to fail."
"No. Of course we won't." Witilla paused, "...Now, there's still the matter of implanting your chip."
"You really expect me to sit still while a machine pokes around in my brain?"
"The general anaesthetic will numb any pain… and the procedure is incredibly quick. You'll only feel a slight pain afterwards…"
"Hm…" Barion crossed his arms, "Don't we only need one person to get us through the doors? If your 'access level' can get us anywhere now, can't I just follow after you?"
"That's… a good point." She realised, "But, we have to make certain not to get separated."
"I'll do anything to avoid being at the mercy of that machine…"
"Then… we should make our way to the research labs. Once we pass through the containment cells afterwards, we'll be in the Central Processing Unit."
"Is there anything dangerous on the way?"
She shook her head, "Now that we have top-level access, the path forward should be simple."
"Somehow, I just can't believe it's going to be that easy…"
Witilla continued massaging the bare patch on her head as the two of them retreated to the elevator. Interacting with the array of buttons, she quickly sent the box on its way. The violin melody which kickstarted their accent couldn't help but make Barion feel a little tense.
"Research labs…" He repeated, "Like… an alchemy lab?"
"I can't say for certain…" She confessed, "Despite their proximity to my containment cell, I was never allowed anywhere near the labs."
Reaching into his pack, Barion retrieved the Elven Monarch's crystal. The focus had developed a fog within its glossy interior, but he figured it was still good for a few more spells.
"You're quite talented in spellweaving, aren't you?" He held the crystal out, "Could you use this to cast a spell of comprehending languages? That way I can understand humanity's strange language."
"O-Of course…"
Extending a hand, Witilla channelled some magical particles into the crystal while muttering an incantation under her breath. When she was finished, Barion didn't feel any immediate change in his body, but noticed that the lettering on the buttons in the elevator had suddenly become readable.
12f - Observatories
11f - Terrestrial Operations, Laboratories & CPU
10f - Auxiliary Maintenance Corridor
9f - Dormitories & Lounge
8f - Gymnasiums
7f - Mess Hall & Kitchens
6f - Atrium Complex
5f - Intelligence Headquarters
4f - Central Maintenance Corridor
3f - Engine Rooms
2f - Server Array
1f - Medical Bay
It was difficult to gauge the size of Black Luna from where they stood, but its chambers surely made up only a fraction of the station's total weight. The dark chasm Barion and Witilla had wandered over during their entrance spoke of how much space was lended to the movements of the Caretakers they had seen hovering through the station's innards.
"Barion."
"Hm?" He was surprised to hear Witilla initiating a conversation, "What is it?"
"I believe that… it would be for the best if we moved through the containment cells as quickly as possible."
"...Well, I don't have a problem with that." He replied, "That's where you and the other Heavenly Kings were kept, wasn't it? Aren't they already gone?"
"They are, but…" She hesitated, "I'm sorry that I can't disclose more than this, but… for your sake, please don't linger."
"Is there something you don't want me to see?"
"Yes." She admitted instantly, "...And, I'm certain that you wouldn't like to see it, either."
"What about the… what did you call them? Research labs?"
"Oh… we could certainly gather some information on the nature of Black Luna there if it pleases you. Truthfully, I've also been very curious about humanity's ongoing experiment…"
A quiet ding accompanied the hissing of the elevator doors as yet another sterile hallway stretched out beyond the threshold. Only, in comparison to the medical wing, it seemed nearly endless, vanishing into the distance with no end in sight.
"Unbelievable…" Barion muttered, "Just how many people were on this station at one point?"
"Most of these rooms were dedicated to preliminary models of the experiment's outcome." Witilla explained, "Researchers made up the majority of this station's personnel. When it became fully-automated, the rooms were kept to save on costs. The Caretakers have ensured that everything has been kept in pristine condition, so all of the research terminals should still be operational."
"We're not going to look through every room, are we?"
"N-No… that won't be necessary…" She dismissed the thought, "Every computer is hosted on the local extranet, so we'll be able to access all files from just a single one."
"E-Extranet… files?" Barion tilted his head.
"Don't worry about the terminology too much."