12 Miles Below

For our first attempt into the digital world, the setup turned out to be mundane.

“This location is clear of any possible spyware.” Wrath said, walking me into the room, which had been mostly a repurposed office.

I turned on the lights and strolled on in. A bunch of old leather chairs with desks before them greeted my sights. I could practically smell the cracked leather coated with dust. But we were looking for subtilty, so no point in using something people walk nearby often. I took a seat on one of the chairs and reclined backwards, hearing the whole thing creak louder than a rifle shot.

Wrath placed a large box she'd been carrying on the table in front, and swiftly hooked wires into outlets. Lights blinked on the box. “Wireless signal connected. The router is operational.”

A moment later, a stream of black smoke trailed out of her hands and arms sinking into the box’s seams. She nodded after a half minute, the smoke returning back to wherever it came from. “I’ve inscribed a soul fractal within the inside panel. A server has been launched and running within instance. Begin when you are ready.”

“All right, here goes.” I muttered, reaching a hand out and touching the bulky box. I could feel the soul fractal on the other side of the thin metal, powered by currents connecting back to the machine. A moment later, I reached out for it and jumped inside.

A single tendril of soul remained connected to my limp body, while concepts bloomed into life around me. The largest of which was the router itself. There was something more to it. A gateway almost. Father had told me this was how he had felt while inside Winterscar’s soul fractal. That there were things within the armor he could reach out to and command. Much to the armor’s distaste.

"Do you see any difference from your current soul fractal?" Wrath asked, voice sounding muted even after all my practice on keeping some senses while hooked into the soul trance. "This fractal should be in direct connection to the operating system. Can you access it?"

"Definitely something in here." I muttered out, trying to focus on the elusive concepts nearby the fractal. A tendril of soul waved around blindly until it hit something more solid. The concept of the router itself. And with it, a gateway. I found a part of myself flowing into it. Sinking down into water, as if I were in the deep end of the clan baths. Except there was not a person around me, no end in sight, just the twilight blue water, bubbles rising up as I sank down, body limp, awareness expanding outwards. My mind had to be filling in some of the gaps, trying to put meaning and structure to something completely alien.

Motes of data were floating around me, looking like sparkling dust in the not-water. Loose, moving around without much purpose. Redundant messengers, pinging back and forth.

Further down I sank and started to really understand where I was. My soul was somehow moving around in the system, despite remaining within the soul fractal. Or at least, that's what I currently thought was happening. More concepts bloomed into life around me as I explored - Data banks, ports of access, storage, monitors, all kinds of smaller details. They formed into physical objects. Usually cubes or rings, all moving around each other. The space in between was large enough for me to land on and stand.

I had a body. Or the concept of a body. Or maybe this was just a proxy of some kind. A ping came along with a package of data, sent directly my way. It hit my body lightly, simply alerting me someone had triangulated where I’d appeared.

A look down the direction of the ping and I saw Wrath. She hadn’t done anything to change her appearance inside the digital realm. Although, to be fair, neither had I.

“Well. This is interesting.” I said, looking down at my hands and flexing them slightly. “Didn’t think I’d have arms or a head in here. Thought I'd be more of a disembodied soul, or just the entire world pitch black and filled with numbers.”

The digital sea around me was murky, as if I were back in the bunker, inside the flooded sections. The metal ring I stood on wasn’t really solid ground, but felt more like a barrier that separated this small section of the world from a larger wider one out there. If I jumped through the ring’s center, down into the water’s depth, it would send me elsewhere. Far away. Water both surrounded me but didn't. I could move just as fast as I thought.

“As I understand, fractals operate on concepts.” Wrath said. “The digital world is different to the physical one, yet we perceive it the same way. And so it is molded in such a way.”

“How exactly do I appear to you? Because to me, I think I look the same and you do to.”

She tilted her head. “A mixture of inputs. Your digital avatar and signature matches what Feathers and other machines with soul fractals would appear as. It is difficult to put into words."

"So this is how machines all normally operate in the sea?"

"No. Simpler machines do not care to keep a sense of physical self.” She waved a hand through the water, bits of programs and particles trailing behind the swirl. None of those appeared as people, only primordial plankton. "Only machines that own a shell outside the digital sea care to appear physically in any shape. The rest of the machines within the digital sea do not use any form of physical representation, even if their processing and complexity outstrip the lessers. Everything you see around you is an illusion, I suspect the soul fractal is a key component that dictated if an entity sees itself as a unified concept."

I sort of understood what she meant. The colorful coral that grew on the metal ring like corrosive rust wasn’t so much as coral at all but a stack of temporarily stored data, frozen into solid useable shape. The soul sight was twisting my senses together.

“So, what I'm hearing is that only machines with soul fractals see the world like this?” I asked, curious. I knew Feathers had soul fractals, I’d seen it in the soul sight. I hadn’t known other machines also had them.

“Correct.” Wrath confirmed. “Regular artificial intelligences cannot develop true sapience without a soul fractal. The highest they could gain would be sentience. Soul fractals are generally included in machines that require fractal powers or better creative intelligence, which is all of us. All machines operating in the world have soul fractals, in order to connect to the Unity fractal.”

“The unity fractal?”

She nodded. “A fractal capable of unifying concepts together, regardless of distance. Machines connect to one another through this fractal. And mother can connect to any of us as well. The greatest use of the unity fractal is as a safeguard for machines souls. We cannot move from fractal to fractal like you do. In order to move to a different fractal, we use Unity to connect to a far away backup. This is how Feathers are immortal. Each time we are near death, we unify our soul fractal to another far underground and relocate there."

She gave me more bits of trivia on that fractal, and how she'd seen it used. The unity fractal could unify concepts together, if both objects had been inscribed with that fractal. There were certainly a lot of interesting ideas I could think about on how to abuse this fractal. It was apparently a pretty big deal to machines, even if it was relatively mundane in what it did.

"I am not sure why, but Relinquished always has a connection to the unity fractal. Anything inscribed with it, is by default connected to her. Any use of the Unity fractal is connected to Mother." Wrath said when I started probing for possible uses. "There are some limits. Unity goes both ways. Anything she refuses to risk for herself cannot be leveraged against us. For example, when she is connected to me in an audience, I cannot tell where she is so she cannot tell where I am either. She must have a soul fractal somewhere in the world, and it's location would be the most guarded secret she has. So she will never engage in anything that might reveal her back.”

"You seem pretty calm about having a literal spying device built into your system. Even if it's limited to just talking, it still sounds like a dangerous setup."

"The majority of the time, the fractal remains dormant and out of her mind. While it's powers as a lifeguard are powerful, it operates more like an unattended leash would at this point. The protofeathers must have been able to cut ties with the fractal, it's possible we can replicated this. Part of the reason I intend to get more information out of the archive."

“Can’t just, you know, cut it out with a blade?” I asked, shrugging.

“The thought had never occurred to me. How silly of me.” Wrath said, arms folding up. “That was sarcasm.”

“Noted. So what’s the actual reason you can’t?”

“Machine soul fractals are our home. In this case, physically cutting off a part would be fatal, leaving a hole in the soul fractal that no longer protects us from the world outside. ” She thought, and came with a better analogy. “It would be as if your mask was broken on the surface, leaving the surface air in contact with your skin.”

I gave a shiver at that. I’d seen frostbite from plenty of people returning from expeditions. Retainers described it as if their digits had been outright set on fire the moment skin was exposed. She got the wrong idea from my shiver. "If the worse happens and mother discovers us before we have a method of cutting off the unity fractal, my current plan is to shut off all power connected to it. It's the least destructive method I can think of. Fractals cannot operation without an electric current. No current, no active ability. The affects on my soul should be minimal, so long as I keep that portion of the fractal active."

“What actually is a machine soul in the first place, how are they created?” I asked. “Because it seems pretty natural for a human to have one, when does a machine become smart enough to get one?”

She frowned, thinking. “The event happens naturally when an empty soul fractal is powered and connected to a machine with a neuromorphic mind past a certain threshold in complexity. That’s the only known requirement so far. Range of when the soul coalesces is also in debate, some more complicated shells can generate a soul within a few minutes, while more simple minded machines require a few days.”

That was a sentence to unpack. I had to ask Wrath one by one to define the terms she was using here, but the gist of it was that machines could only get so smart with the tech humanity had. They tried to push the boundaries by making the machines operate more like the human brain would, and it did work - somewhat. Neuromorphic computers were a step in the right direction for making machines more creative, but they came with limits to processing speed, and still hit a bottleneck.

Once the soul fractal was hooked up, that’s when the neuromorphic part really took off and developed further than it could have. Fractal tech really did change the game entirely when it came to advancements, and humans of that day were constantly discovering new fractals to use. Then the war happened and everything stagnated. “Mother has not continued or advanced fractal technology since.” Wrath said, wrapping up her lecture.

“She hasn’t? What? If I were an evil AI goddess with the entire world to play with, I’d be doing all kinds of research experiments. Who knows what I could discover with that kind of reach over that timeline?”

Wrath nodded. “Fractal archives are not stored in local systems such as my shell. Relinquished considers it too large of a risk if we were captured and the data extracted. So I can only give you answers based on the few time I've connected to the archives directly. The only confirmed data point is that there has not been new entries into the fractal archives since the war ended, at least publically. Nor have I found any projects to research new fractals. This is one of a multitude of strange behaviors I’ve noticed from Mother. A part of why I still wish to dive into the archives despite the danger. Not only to discover a means to hide my people from her sight, but also understand my enemy better.” She looked up, peering through the water surrounding us. To the surface, where data faded away back into I/O ports that led to the physical world. “Eventually, I will have to face her. The more I understand who and what she is, the better prepared I can be for that moment.”

The murky water felt more and more clear the more I attuned myself to the soul fractal, and let my soul sight be the one in command. “If the dive operation worked out, I’ll keep an eye for info on Relinquished.” I promised. It wasn’t just because she’s a friend, I was also curious about what the goddess of machines was really up to on her silver throne.

“Appreciated. Now, we should begin testing combat operations within the digital sea.”

I nodded, straight back to business then. “Are you going to be generating some simple programs to fight off, or a training course?”

Another head tilt. “We'll spar in the more traditional sense. Humans already understand combat and self-defense as a concept using your own body. We'll start there. Tenisent recommended this.”

Of course he fucking would. That bastard.

She took a combat stance. “Direct methods are often the most effective, as he told me.”

“I strongly object.” I said, quickly, hands snapping up to guard my jaw, a cautious foot step backwards.

Not that it made any difference in this world.

“Your objection is noted.” She said and struck out with a palm in my direction. A wall of willpower hit me like an intercept airspeeder and sent me flying off the edge of the ring.

All right then. I need to file a complaint.

First because she hadn't actually hit me with any kind of physical punch, so that had been misleading. And second because swimming back was an entire adventure on its own.

And as it turned out, I should have filed multiple complaints, because it progressively got worse and worse each day.

Getting beat up in the digital world didn’t leave any lasting effects on the body. No amount of programs stinging my hands and feet, no amount of willpower walls slamming into me, nor even swords stabbing right through my chest. This was both a blessing and a terrible, horrible, curse. Pain was still felt, this time more as a mind-game where my body expected the pain and so it manifested, but besides a bit - or a lot - of pain, nothing permanent occurred. I don't think my digital body was actually my soul at all, but rather some kind of digital avatar I commanded from my pilot seat back on the side of the router.

Wrath had some amount of mercy in her. She’d often make sure I’d get thrown off into the sea itself, so that I wouldn’t crush my digital body into a wall or rock. I’d eventually get slowed, and then start sinking to the next floating geometric object, or would glide through the waters back to where I’d been kicked off.

This wasn’t where the complaints would come in. No, there was an entire monster lurking in the digital sea all of us had to contend with. Prowling around, maw filled with sharp teeth ready to beat down anything.

Father.

As he described it, everything to do with the soul revolved around willpower. And the digital sea was far more malleable to a soul than the real world was. Once he got involved, things got ugly.

Basically, I’m saying his fighting style was pure brute strength.

Wrath’s attacks felt like a four hundred pound hammer to the chest, but I could reliably deflect or match that power if I saw it coming. Father’s was an outright continental shelf speeding in my direction with the words ‘stop’ written down in the dictionary as a funny joke. I had to get smart to deal with anything he threw out. Both of us had to, as we eventually ended up teaming up in training against him.

Wrath was excellent at generating a bunch of distraction programs that would nip at his heels or otherwise annoy him long enough for her to slip away. I couldn’t code anything out of my head, and the bits of software training I knew how to do were woefully underpowered compared to what a Feather could generate.

I did find my own way of surviving the sledgehammer punches - specifically the digital sea itself and all the floating pieces that comprised it. I couldn’t generate things wholesale like Wrath could, but I could connect to what already existed and command them to change because the occult was a weapon that cheated a lot of rules. A pillar could rise here, a ring could collapse there. And if I had good enough focus, I could even have the geometry of the stage change up. The very water of the sea could be bent with enough understanding of what it really was.

Watching Wrath think her mental barriers were strong enough to resist a hit from me was great since it wasn’t the hit itself that did the work, but the surging tide following it. She’d get blown off into the water with an angry scowl, and try to zip right back and make it my problem.

Dealing with programs that didn’t hold a soul fractal was far easier in comparison. All I had to do was reach a hand out with my mind, connect and then crush. The complexity and power of the program would delay how long it took to break, but eventually I’d find a way. They could fight back, often with metaphorical teeth, trying to take bites out of me. That didn’t end well for them, the closer they were to me, the easier it was to throw my willpower around.

Father didn’t have that kind of finesse, but then again that monster didn’t need any. In all our practice free-for-all bouts, it usually ended up with Wrath and I coming to a very quick and understood agreement to work together, or we’d both get literally punched out of the digital world. Take too much damage, and the sense of self would vanish away, throwing me painfully back into my soul fractal as a wounded blob.

Apparently, even a machine could feel pain, which was a surprise to me so at least I wasn’t alone in the suffering.

The three of us practicing was harsh, but interesting. Still, that wasn't where the bulk of my complaints aimed for.

It was when Kidra got involved, because of course she would. Then things went off script.

Let me preface this in the kindest way possible - my dear sister is an evil traitor and should never be trusted again.

“Again.” Kidra said, hand stretched out, a sword materializing into the digital world by her will, something we'd all learned to do.

Father nodded somberly, flicking a replica of the family occult knife in his hand, spinning it around back into position. He took his usual stance, waiting for us to regather our forces.

My dear sister gave me a glare, since I hadn’t gotten back up on my feet. “Please.” I begged. “He stabbed me twelve times last round.”

“He wouldn’t have, had you not tried to run when he charged.” She said. “You panicked, failed to trust your team and paid for it. I would have reached you in time if you had stood your ground.”

“What, you’re asking me to hold off that angry blender with two daggers?” I said, pointing my broken longsword at the man in question. Father returned the glare with an icy calm look. I knew if we didn’t hurry up and get back up and ready, he’d charge at us early. He did that last time.

“He modulates his strike speed when fighting you to match your limits.” Kidra said, taking stance. “You might not notice it, but I do. You could have stood your ground.”

She had the audacity to give me a quick kick in the chest when I still didn’t comply. I grunted some more complaints as I stood back up, willing my longsword to mend itself back into one piece.

Father watched us as if nothing were wrong in the world. “Begin.” He said. And then charged forward for another bout.

Now, why was all of this my sister’s fault? Because out of all of us, the bloody battle maniac loved fighting enough to want this kind of thing, and smart enough to realize it was possible. Kidra pointed this out within minutes of talking to her about the experience. There was no returning from that.

And why have only us five train when we had the entire clan’s elite knights to join the fun? All of them except for clan lord Atius, who wasn’t able to do any of this. Wrath and Journey would have been in his airspeeder on that, but both happened to have digits and metal for a brain which let them easily swim anywhere in the digital sea.

Further out into the digital misty water, I could see the other platforms and geometry floating with combatants from the clan equally practicing their techniques, sometimes not even horizontally. Directly above us, as if mirrored, I saw Sagrius fighting with three other Winterscar knights as a team against a few clan elites from different houses. Gravity was more a suggestion in this world. But the closest duel happening was on my left, slightly tilted at an angle, between two familiar snarling opponents, clashing blades with genuine hate against one another.

Wrath and Cathida.

Journey itself hadn’t really cared to join our training, even though by all reason it should have been able to. It had a soul fractal, a soul, and a mechanical brain capable of intelligent thought. It still only cared to protect its user in the physical world and had no issue watching me get shanked again and again here.

That is, up until Wrath literally connected the server we were using to the armor, forcing its hand. Technically, this section of the digital sea was all within Journey's local systems now.

Given the intrusion, it decided on its own to pick the best engram it had to fight off the invaders, which was Cathida. And for once she wasn't complaining about all this.

Chaos ensued, now that Cathida had a means to vent her frustration about the Feather in the most direct possible manner. On the other hand, Wrath got a very well matched fighting partner in exchange. Especially since this version of Cathida wasn’t human and wasn’t limited by human speed of thought. In addition to having a perfect memory recall of all surface technique’s she’d seen me, Kidra or the clan knights perform. That put her on the same level as Wrath, and a lifetime of intuition got her over the edge. The crusader seemed to be actually enjoying herself, but that was obvious. She was winning most of the fights and getting to stab a Feather in the process, on top of insulting her the entire time. This was some kind of heaven to her.

Wrath had started neutral to Cathida’s taunts and feelings, but quickly learned to develop a genuine hate-friendship. Hatemanship. Some kind of abomination like that. No Feather I knew of enjoyed getting stomped into the ground again and again, and Wrath proved to be no exception to this.

I feared that Wrath was learning the wrong vocabulary. She’d recently started trying to taunt back, like a hesitant cook figuring out how to use the right order of spices from a new crate of goods. That only encouraged Cathida to double down, which in turn did the same for Wrath, and so forth.

I’ll grudgingly admit my skills in combat were growing by leaps and bounds now that there was no safety. In the past, I’d have to train with hard plastic swords and when I’d get too many bruises, we’d need to stop the training to recover. So most of the teaching was repeating katas and movements until they came naturally, with hand-holding spars occasionally happening once I had healed from the last time.

This kind of training was directly hands on, and everyone in this madhouse except for me was having an absolute blast with it. Bloodthirsty monsters. To them this was some kind of warrior afterlife paradise, where they got to fight to the death again and again without fear of every really dying.

Father charged into Kidra and I, delivering a quick flourish, slice, feint and backstep. Kidra tried to match him and that last backstep in the string of moves had been to avoid her follow-up counters.

Meanwhile, I just had my sword hand cut off instead within the first second into the fight.

Again.

This time I gritted through the flash of pain, yanked the sword out of my rapidly dissolving dismembered hand before it hit the ground, and went right back into the fight with my left hand. That was apparently the right move to make, as Father parried my strikes, took a few more steps backwards to continue the spar with Kidra. Instead of kicking Kidra a few hundred meters backwards and stabbing me twelve times again for doing the wrong move, like he’d done last time.

His training methods left a lot to be desired. Mostly in mercy.

Three more days of this before Wrath considered us ready to go dive into the machine archives. A very long three days.

Next chapter - Secrets of the machine archives

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