Scene Archives

wakes and wanders the halls of the Sanctuary. They’ve never required a large amount of sleep, but remember that the other people do, and attempts to cause as little noise as possible while searching for the Architect.

greets the Architect, “Good….morning, perhaps. You appear to be deep in focus. When you have finished your task, might I trouble you for some…questions?”

places the tool in his hand down with a soft metallic clank. Some kind of awl or chisel, something surprisingly rudimentary. Could probably have found one just like it back in Queenstown, honestly. “No, it is fine. Good to be reminded to take a break every now and then.” He straightens up - stands, actually, carefully places his chair back into place. “Perhaps somewhere else, though, so as to not get distracted.” It’s not too much of a walk to another room much like that one, except this one uncluttered by tools and slabs of crystal, with proper chairs to sit in.

: “Your break is appreciated. Do you also not sleep as much as the others, or is our arrival simply out of phase?”

: “I do not sleep. The Sanctuary’s vigil is my own vigil; the fiends which guard it would sleep with their creator, and then where would we be? But, even if it were not for the need to keep watch, no.”

: “I suppose that makes sense for one who can make entire worlds. You said there were five? And you made them all yourself?”

nods. Just a nod, to such a… complicated question. “I did. Five worlds, in perfect balance with one another. That was the goal, the crystalline ideal.”

: “Did you then also create me? Or did you leave that to some form of fiend or automation?”

: “My kind is newer than the others in Queenstown. But we have learned to work together despite the initial fear.”

looks thoughtful. “I built worlds, designed like etchwork to shape the ebbs and flows of gnosis themselves into characteristic forms. ‘Life’ is a form taken by the ebbs and flows of gnosis, but not shaped directly by my hands, no. Your form of life was new to the Beast. The last to awaken.”

‘s shoulders seem to fall, even just a touch. “I see.” Some of their plates idly rotate as they think. “And your villain. The one who has seen fit to ruin our homes. Did he…arise from gnosis? Or is he like you?”

looks deeply… sad. “He was like me. I do not remember a time when he did NOT exist alongside me. And at first… I spun and he cut. I planted and he winnowed. I could not imagine doing my work without him by my side.”

: “So he…changed. Rather violently, it seems. I apologize. You have lost as much as we have. If you do not wish to speak of this, I respect your choice. But I am compelled to ask - what predicated this? Is he sound or fury?”

: “In truth… we both changed. Or we became, more fully, that which we were. I wanted to build more intricately and more grandly, and so he… wished to shatter more pervasively and dramatically. I could only set myself in opposition to him, but in truth I cannot… hate him for being simply that which he Is.” He looks distant, a bit. “It was a loss. I do not think I noticed until this very breath that I had not permitted myself to feel it as such.” Another pause. “Thank you.” A longer pause, almost long enough to be awkward, then: “He was starlit by the Song, as I am starlit by the Stillness. He loved the freedom enjoyed by the life that my worlds shaped. The songs they sung to each other.”

: “Strange, then, that he chose to destroy what he loved.” pause “Perhaps you two are not so different from the humans after all.” (You sense that this was meant as a joke, despite the Knight’s rigid steel expression) “Interesting that he loved the songs. This place…does not have one like my home does. Did. I felt it in my…bones is the wrong word. Core. I am…at a strange odds with both the life I had and the one I now find myself in. I am bigger, stronger, more resilient than the strongest of warriors from my home. Save one, at least. Though she is unique herself. I am not made to battle. The people of Queenstown are. Competition runs in their blood. I enjoy the sport of it, but cannot abide the necessity of violence. Once, I was made to find a way to make peace between man and fiend. I have no memory of ever being successful. I wonder if there is any way to make peace between you.”

does laugh, a little. More of a wry, almost pained, snort. And then he listens, thoughtfully. “…made to find a way to make peace between man and fiend. When you were made, you knew this?” He seems curious about that part, but it’s not the… -question-, so he tries to let that curiosity go. Tries, at least. “…as for a way for he and I to find peace? I do not know. I would like to believe so. But it was my desire to believe so that blinded me to him in the first place. To what designs he had on the system I had built. And now I have cast him into the outer darkness, and I would not expect forgiveness for that even were I to extend a hand.”

: “My memories are hazy. But the song of the Deepforge is the song I know. I was made with purpose. I am the first of my kind. The only to remember the Deepforge…..The last as well, perhaps. I have always known that I was made for peace.”

: “You may be greater in power, age, and wisdom than we. But you and friend seem enough like man, that I will remind you that forgiveness does not have to be expected to be granted. I will protect this Sanctuary from your Omniclast. I hope one day you might again be able to speak with him.”

looks at the Clockwork Knight, and nods. “The Beast was a world defined by dynamic systems interlocking and interwoven with each other, challenging each other to greater heights. A question posed of the laws of reality. It seems that ‘peace’ must have been its answer. I believe there is a lesson in that.”

: “I would hear more of my world and the others. But not now. You have your tools and slates. And I still have a few dents to repair from earlier. My thanks, Architect.”

: “It would be my pleasure. We are, after all, in no rush.” He stands, smiles again. Something about his smile never seems to make it to his eyes. It’s a soft, pleasant, sad smile.