“We will learn from this failure. Yes. What other word could describe the sheer width of this catastrophe?

Failure. An entire arcology lost. We will learn, and the next time we will avenge.”

- quote attributed to Saoirse MacFennan, World-Premier 2032-2034. Historian’s note: MacFennan’s murderer was never apprenhended, though recent evidence suggest it was in fact Solon Achemadas.

A cemetery of one. That was how Coastline thought about it, though not often, and when it did, it was with a certain melancholy.

There were millions of humans out there, but the total number of AC’s were less than a hundred. It was this paradigm that informed their habits; to a human, a single death was but a number, to an AC, untold tragedy. Atleast for Coastline.

Its shape blurred, becoming that of a dark-skinned man, fracturing into one more akin to its namesake, a wooded shoreline, then a great eagle.

It held the last form and flew through the digital forest, enjoying the relative silence. More than four tenths of its attention was here, the rest on the Vänern Arcology proper, but this was as close as silent as an AC could have.

The pines did not grow in this part of Sweden, yet a digital space was never constrained by reality, and so Coastline had colored them red, with white needles.

The lone tomb’s inhabitant had liked those colors.

The forest rose, the hill of which had been scoured clean. Coastline hung in the air above, admiring the fountain of white marble. It was Grecian - a term expressed to it in its infancy by the person who now slept eternally beneath it.

Coastline’s wings sagged. Its great eyes dulled. Here, it could rest. Let its burden down, and weep.

“It’s hard,” the consciousness that had never been human said.”There are so many objects in motion, so many responsibilities…and sometimes I wonder If am truly up to the task.”

It stared up at a sunless sky, in which a shattered moon loomed, a trick of the eye- the more you stared, the closer the celestial body got- and said out loud:”Maybe I should abdicate. There are children ready to become adults. One of them could probably take my role.”

The words fell on deaf ears. Had someone been present they would have noted the hollowness, the transparency of the syllables.

It sat there, thinking of roads never taken. Eventually an internal alarm began to blare. One of the Scarabs were on the move.

Coastline took to the air then, flying away from one of the few places it could relax, and the grave of one of its few friends.

Another sentence of words flew on the breeze, over pixel-trees and digitalised moons. “I am watching over them. Your children. Rest assure, they will want for nothing.”

_____

“Viktor Solzhenitsyn has passed his Examination of Worth!”

“Viktor Solzhenitsyn has passed his Examination of Worth!”

“Viktor Solzhenitsyn has-“

The wave of esoteric force flattened the walls, the extruder which made the sound, rippling through the hole - through a corridor and startling a passerby - before fracturing the nearest wall.

“Tell the brat…”

The speaker halted, the motion stirring her hair. Blond hair, thick, coarse and unwashed fell in waves around a heart shaped face. Hardbitten lips formed an ascending arc.

“Tell him that he must secure first ranking in his year. That is the only way to get what he wants.”

“Will that be all?” The stone statue rumbled, all marble and granite. The Administrator for the Marseilles Arcology, Éclair, was made out of stone, and stone was its countenance.

“I want a concurrent report on the Travelogues.”

“You do not have the authority to view that level of classified material,” said Éclair, in that sort of neutral tone that was a lie.

“Tell my fellow Proxies that they can tell me now, or for every second they deny my request, I will wait a year without participating in campaigns.”

The eyes of the statue, made in the appearance of actual human eyes, widened. The combination of stone and flesh probably scared humans and junior Proxies. But she had been christened at Second Paris.

A titan stared down at her, and its eyes scoured her, turned her into dust.

A cloud of squares blotted out the horizon, beams of light falling from each individual box. One shattered the synthasphalt next to her feet.

And through the slit in the ceiling of the broken Paris arcology… a small figure in made its way in. At the distance involved, nothing certain could be made out, but a single pulse of grey light sheeted away, like rain. Each drop turned into a snake…

Serena Smiler banished that old memory away. No, she had seen worse things.

“I shall deliver your words.”

“Do that,” Smiler responded curtly. Her mood had turned black.”I will be at the nearest bar.”

Being reminded of the loss of her old home always did this to her, and there was but one cure.

________

Guo Lisa nursed her beer. The examination had been as promised.

“Only in failure do we learn. Victory is a narcotic that must be purged. Be bitter if you want to, only as long you succeed next time.” Grandmother’s voice echoed in her head, well-worn and comfortable.

She, her twin and the others who had already equipped a Chassis had been schooled. What else could you call it, when none of them had lasted longer than 10 minutes?

Oh, her grandmother had certainly made sure that she wouldn’t embarrass herself…but she must have held back in her and Hong’s training.

Swords of golden light coming at odd intervals. A tidal wave of the same that blotted out her sensors. And then came the searing light that rang through her bones.

Grandmother had been harsh, but never that harsh. She took another sip of her beer. Maybe she should have.

The door to the bar opened, but she didn’t glance up to see who had entered.

“Do you have kumis?”

The bartender, a woman with vivid sunset-color hair - who Lisa stole covert glances at - poured a glass of something white in a glass.

“Rough day?”

She met Viktor Solzhenitsyn’s appraising gaze.”Yeah. You?”

“Oh, I have had better.”

“I’m going watch every cast, simulation and footage I can find of our instructor. Then I’m going to punch him in the face,” Viktor reiterated, downing the alcohol.

Guo Lisa thought about statement.”You won’t be doing it alone.”