《Dirge》Motley 1.02-1

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I was developing a headache, which made it hard to think. But I managed.

As I walked up rocky paths and steps, the railing was sometimes absent, to my surprise. Small luminescent bulbs inlaid in the stone were lighting up ahead of me, making a path. Some remained dark, so I supposed this was the machine, Aku, guiding me.

"Over here," the angelic voice said.

I turned a corner and saw a metal door in the rock, which slid open.

"This is the ship bay, you can cut through here and avoid the higher levels."

"Thank you," I said and followed through into the hanger. Ballroom ceilings and wide open metal floors housed quite a number of large machines and space ships. I talked while I walked. "Tell me, Aku, who are you?"

"I am the highly functioning A.I. in charge of all automated tasks necessary to run the Utopian civilization."

"Does all that add up to an acronym?" I asked jokingly.

"I.a.t.h.f.a.i.i.c.o.a.a.t.n.t.r.t.u.c.?" Aku rattled off the letters.

"Touché... You have a presence, you know, has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard it occasionally. But, whether I'm alive or not is for philosophers to quarrel over, not something I'm concerned about."

An intelligence which feels, in some nebulous way. It questions, I knew.

"Life is a word you don't need, to think for yourself."

"Interesting point." I'd reached the exit. "Caution, area under construction."

Aku had brushed my comment off, which said something.

The door flew open and the wind rushed in. A very long, perfectly flat bridge, with no visible supports, connected me over to an island of rock. On the isle a glass dome sat, burrowed into the rock, curving with a reflection of the sky. People were moving through the propped open doors, giving me a view of a rocky courtyard inside.

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I liked the fast pace things were set at around here. I had to make sure the wind didn't part my robe, so I crossed the bridge a little awkwardly. The set of open double doors led into the Sanctuary. I think I'd picked up on that word, so I reckoned that to be the name.

The path of lights actually didn't lead inside, though, they were blinking, emphatically leading me around the side of the building. I followed a narrow path which curved down under the side of the glass dome. There, beneath the structure and facing out on the drop, were many old black doors. No window, no port, only the impressively heavy black metal of door after door, with nearly thirty feet between each separate one.

A glass panel lit up beside one of the doors, four down. Once I got near to it a noise sounded, some sort of tone and the door creaked open. Beyond it, a whitewashed fluorescently lit, and immaculately clean hall stretched far ways back until it opened out onto a larger room. Down the length of the hall were a number of open faced cells or rooms. Four, to be exact.

Not before walking two paces did I notice the first cell wasn't empty.

A pale, thin man, in grungy punk rocker rags, with red hair, was lounging in shadows on a settee. His eyes were fiery, literally, and as he cracked a smile, he gave me a glimpse of a mouth crowded with teeth. His cell was decorated with junkyard furniture and a beautiful Persian rug.

The light over his head was busted, glass dusted the vibrant carpet beneath it.

His voice was pleasant, youthful, with an odd cadence. "Hello, nigger."

How rude, I thought, easily holding back any reaction.

I nodded in response. He was some sort of demon, I guessed, by the aesthetic and manners. Best not to engage him further.

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It was a short walk to the end of his enclosure. There was a brief section of wall between the cells, which had behind it a bathroom and closet, back to back for two of the rooms. I could see through the open door. He'd trashed the interior.

In the next cell there was a girl, facing away from me and in a rocking chair, staring into a fireplace which crackled and popped. She wore a dark brown hide leather jacket, with auburn hair spilling over her shoulders. One of her hands hung over the railing of her wooden chair, it held tight to the handle of a sword. A sword as big as she was, a massive piece of steel with a long handle wrapped in a black grip. She didn't acknowledge me.

Passing by, I came to where Anna was. She was pacing in her room, a much more residential looking space. With cream walls and a window which rain beat down against. I could only assume the image and sound were simulated.

Each room had been a personal statement, meant to make the occupant feel at home. The transition from the hall to the opened, three-walled cells, was somewhat jarring. As within, everything, down to the smallest detail, changed. The sword girl had had stone walls, gothic esch. The demon, old floral wallpaper. And here, Anna had a miniature apartment, complete with windows and shag carpet.

Turning to pace back to the other side of the room, she finally noticed me. She turned a shade of pink and didn't speak.

"Howdy." I gave a warm smile. "Sorry about that, earlier."

"You're uh, you're fine," she said, voice somewhat distant.

"Quite fine, if I do say so myself," I kidded.

She laughed a little, then stopped. "You were conjured, you're with, uh, Kendall, or something. There was an alert, Aku was worried you were something big and bad... are you? What are you?"

"I'm Doran."

"Yeah, well you look, like, my age-ish. But, you're not a people?"

"Who says I'm not a people?! I take umbrage, umbrage I tell you!"

"...What?" She asked, sounding worried. I watched her as I talked.

"I jest. It's unclear at this point, but I'll keep you posted."

"Yeah, okay," I started walking, "see you around, I guess," Anna said.

After the last and fourth cell, the hall ended in a dual kitchen and living room, with two couches, a coffee table, and an open counter and island on the opposite end. There was another door at the back of that room, which I guessed led to Kendall's living quarters. He had a proper room.

Which leads me to the fourth cell. My room.

It was barren.

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