"Fresh fiber-grass for sale! Fresh fiber-grass!"

"Sushi here, get your sushi! Authentic cuts from the seas of Decarro!"

"Refurbished gaunts, they're just like new! Won't find any prices lower on the Mercantile!"

Note was finding it nearly impossible to traverse any major alleyways without being assailed by throngs of merchants and vendors who had set up shop, all of them trying to advertise their products to the crowds of people that passed through. And while she still found the fact that she was finally able to interact with the physical world positively thrilling, having her first experience be plagued with obnoxious traders was more than a little disappointing.

"Try my patented scale-polish, you'll look five cycles younger!"

"Exotic garments, the softest silks from the Edge!"

She'd spent hours walking about at this point, and had still made no progress on her plan—and she did have a plan, albeit one that was something of a long shot. But if there was any hope of it succeeding, she needed a much lower profile.

Even with the level of chaos and disarray that these ill-maintained levels of the station attracted, she was still the most obvious and apparent oddity in sight. The crowds had helped to shield her some, but those who looked too closely at her would jerk away in sudden shock and fright at the shambling metal frame before them, often drawing everyone's eyes to her.

And she had come to learn that this was not a good thing.

"Ah, a synthoid!" A particularly reptilian-looking merchant on the side of the alleyway darted a few feet from her stand to approach, undaunted by Note's skeletal appearance. Her back was covered in large, kite-shaped scutes that overlapped one another, jutting out like keratin feathers. "Are you running errands for your owner?"

Without waiting for an answer, the merchant moved her prehensile tail out in front of Note, a jar filled with some type of off-white cream held in its coiled grasp. "Are they perhaps a teregrine, kugraw, or fellow dahmak? I assure you, my proprietary scale-polish will make their scales shine like Eden's light—!"

"Listen," Note cut the merchant off, growing tired of hearing shady sales pitches, "I only care about one thing—do you know where I can find a Sentinel?"

The merchant's eyes widened, apparently not having expected the synthoid before her to speak so harshly. "Er—yes, I believe I saw one pass in that direction, maybe a few minutes ago?"

With one hand, she pointed towards the left side of the adjoining street at the end of the large alleyway. Note's mood brightened considerably; if it had only just passed, then there was a chance she could catch up to it.

"Thanks," she told the merchant curtly, and then promptly set off without giving the woman another chance to promote her second-rate beauty product.

She began jogging towards the end of the alley, but something caught her eye right as she reached it. It was the sushi vendor, a tall creature with large pointed ears and short fur covering his entire body. He was finishing up his most recent transaction, waving goodbye to a departing customer. Looking down at his stock, he apparently realized that he needed to refresh the plates available for purchase, and briefly walked away from the front of his stand to grab more fish.

He wasn't what her eyes were glued to, however—it was the long grey coat draped over the side of the sushi stand that caught her attention. The chef had presumably placed it there earlier, and currently, it was totally unobserved.

Well ... I did say I needed a way to keep a lower profile.

Hurriedly jogging over, she stepped up to the sushi booth and snagged the coat from where it hung. She immediately backpedaled and ran out into the street before the chef could turn around and see that it was missing. Pulling it over herself, she began walking with haste in the direction that the first merchant had indicated.

Though it was far from perfect, the coat was already helping her to better blend in; no longer was anyone shrinking away from her ghastly-looking body, they simply walked by without a second glance. It had been fitted for the chef, and he had been nearing eight feet in height. As a result, the hem of the coat hung only a foot or so above her ankles. Note supposed that, with everything but her head covered, she looked more or less like any other synthoid completing errands. She'd have to do something about the rest of her body later, but this would suffice for now.

She'd been walking for a minute or two before she finally spied her target; a lone Sentinel, hovering just above the heads of the crowd some twenty meters ahead. Thanking her luck, she approached it and went over her plan in her head one more time.

As she had come to understand, the Sentinels were essentially the ultimate authority on anything and everything around here. People both revered and feared them, and for good reason: they weren't in control of them. The Sentinels acted as enforcers of several rules that had been put into place by a long-dead race of beings that nearly everyone considered responsible for the state of the galaxy.

Personally, she couldn't really care less about where the Sentinels came from, or who built them. But she knew that they communicated with each other somehow, she'd been able to sense it during her time in the station's systems. There was some sort of isolated network they were connected to, one that only they—and she—could perceive. It was inaccessible to anyone other than another Sentinel. At least, that had been the case thus far.

She flexed her fingertips experimentally, and watched as small sparks of crimson light encircled them. It seemed that her unique ability to interact with technology and the cold-lights hadn't been limited to the inner-workings of a computer system. Whether or not it would work on a Sentinel was another question entirely—she couldn't guarantee that her technological functions and its were even compatible, let alone whether she'd be able to break through whatever kind of security it had to protect itself.

But if she was right about the Sentinels being able to share information through this network of theirs, and instantaneously from across the galaxy, no less ... then this was her best chance of finding a clue that led her to the gods she sought.

"Excuse me!"

Though her voice didn't carry far across the noise of the bustling people around her, it was apparently enough. The Sentinel rotated around, quickly spying her as she stretched her hand up to grab its attention. It propelled itself towards her, closing the gap between them until it floated only a few feet in front of her. It stared at her silently, evidently waiting for her to speak.

"Uh ... I have a problem," she said.

It remained quiet, still staring at her without a word.

Looking to her right, she spotted a thin alleyway that was empty of people and away from prying eyes. Beckoning to the Sentinel, she began walking towards it. "Over here, it's kind of a private matter."

Though it still did not speak, it did apparently hear her, and it followed closely behind. She waded through the oncoming passerby until she made it off the road, now able to move freely. Walking as far into the alleyway as she could, she checked behind her to see that the Sentinel was still tailing her.

Once she was confident that they wouldn't be disturbed, she turned around and clasped her hands together. "Uh ... thank you for coming."

It hovered there in the air, unblinkingly. As before, there was no reaction—so she took the moment to steel herself for what came next.

"I need to find someone, and I think you're the only thing that can help me do that. So ... please don't hold this against me."

Lifting her hands up, she extended her fingertips and watched as light blossomed forth from them, strands and threads which lanced forward, seeking their target. Before the Sentinel could react, they made contact with the blue glyph on the front of its body, and a connection was forged.

Note was totally unprepared for what happened after. What she felt was similar to when she'd found herself being sucked into the space-station's systems, overwhelming and chaotic—but this was on a scale unfathomably larger than what she'd experienced before. The station, even with its millions of signals and constant traffic, was nothing compared to this. She was a drop of water being tossed about in a stormy ocean, and she couldn't see the bottom of its depths. What she felt was incomprehensibly powerful, as though the galaxy itself were a living creature, coiling itself around her—

The sun loomed before her. She wanted so desperately to reach it, but every step she took was a mile, every breath a knife. She was pushing herself to the very limits of her capabilities, and yet it wasn't enough.

She turned away from the light, and saw nothing but blackness behind her. All that existed was the path between her and the light, the shadow had swallowed up everything else. She urged herself forward, frantically trying to outrun the darkness that pursued her.

Something cold grabbed her by the leg, and she was sent sprawling. Pushing herself onto her hands and knees, she could only look on helplessly as the light began to shrink and fade away. She reached out with one hand, as though clawing the air would bring it closer to her. Turning to face the abyss, she screamed only to hear it scream back with the tortured cries of countless others as it dragged her below its waves—

With a startled shriek, she found herself stumbling backwards and falling to the ground. Darting her optics rapidly, she saw that she was no longer drowning in a sea of inky blackness, nor was there anything grabbing hold of her leg. Instead, she was back in the dirty alleyway with the Sentinel, its cool-blue eye glaring at her.

Understanding the predicament she was in, she held up her hands in submission. "Hang on, before you do anything—"

"GO TO JANTII. SEEK YOUR ANSWERS THERE."

She'd barely registered the fact that the Sentinel had just spoken to her before it swiftly turned around, and made a quick exit out of the alleyway. She sat there for several seconds, her arms frozen in the air, until she came to her senses and hastily scrambled up to her feet. "Hey, wait! What does that mean? What's on—"

Note stepped out of the alley and back onto the road.

"—Jantii?"

A few pedestrians had turned their heads at her outburst, noting the apparent synthoid dressed in an ill-fitting coat, but she paid them no mind. She craned her head in one direction, then the other ... but the Sentinel was nowhere to be seen.

She was calmer now, having recovered from her brief moment of terror. Whatever that vision had been, she had a feeling that it was connected to what she sought. And now, thanks to the Sentinel, she knew where to find it.

Jantii.

Stepping back into the street, she joined the crowds once more and began to quietly mull over what she'd just learned; apparently, she could interface with Sentinels. She'd also confirmed that they did have information on what she was looking for, as vague as that information might have been. That just left finding a way to Jantii, wherever that was, and biding her time until she had the opportunity to go there.

Shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, she walked with more purpose in her step than there had been a few hours ago. It looked like she had some things to do.

The sounds of clattering legs and clicking chelae grew louder. Fear could sense the approaching messenger, drank in its scent that wafted through the air ... and found it interesting. There was the usual trepidation that came from those needing to speak with him, but there was also ... excitement. A sort of giddy buzz that the other Cell was having a hard time containing.

He turned to look at the newcomer, granting them his full attention."You have something to report?"

"We have detected the false-mind's energy signature," it told him, rubbing its pedipalps together. "We have determined its location on the Mercantile, and are ready to retrieve it at your word."

He could scarcely believe it. Nearly a cycle had passed since they'd lost both the false-mind and the Echo, and in their place had been the lingering thought that they might never be found again.

See how your faith has been rewarded.

The messenger stood there, awaiting his response. He opened his maw, prepared to send the order to capture the false-mind—

Not yet. Patience.

—and closed it just as quickly. "Do not lose it again. Continue to monitor its movements, and keep me informed of its location."

He could smell the surprise excreting from the other Cell. "You ... you do not wish to capture it?"

"Do you question my orders?" Fear growled, injecting malice into every word. The messenger shrank back from him, clicking its mandibles in fright.

"No, of course not! I will relay your wishes as you have given them."

Fear gurgled deeply. "See to it that you do. Ovtek says that we must wait. So ... we shall wait."

Bowing deeply, the messenger turned and scuttled out of the room. Once they were gone, Fear was left alone with his thoughts once more ... and what wonderful thoughts they were.

Only with the Echo can you return your people to greatness.

"The false-mind will find the Echo," he said aloud, finally seeing how the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. "And when it does ..."

So will you.