Five Pebbles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
labugrynthian) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
datadiving2026-03-22 03:58 pm
labugrynthian) wrote in datadiving2026-03-22 03:58 pmhollow knight/rain world crossover content
[ five pebbles condescending to slugcatbugs about karma five hours unskippable]
labugrynthian) wrote in datadiving2026-03-22 03:58 pm
no subject
The old map the Weavers made when they first planned their flight proves invaluable, giving her a rich list of locations to investigate. But during her studies she finds an old text. Said text describes an even older text, one that spoke of some unknown barrier far to the west. A long, brutal journey, but a potential safe haven should a way through be found. Of all the possible Weaver spawn locations, it's one of the few that the Choir has no apparent knowledge of. Her mind made up, she sets off.
She's not sure what exactly she's expecting to find. A dome enclosing a kingdom the size of Hallownest or Pharloom, perhaps, assuming it even exists at all. Something large, but manageable.
Instead she encounters what is obviously the work of a Higher Being: a glowing lattice humming with power, one that descends so deep into the earth that it reaches the Abyss, and so far up it breaches the surface. It's not until she's actually standing upon said surface that she finally understands what she's up against. The barrier is enormous. It stretches in either direction too far for her to see it curve out of sight, and towers above her like Hallownest stacked on top of itself several times over. Standing before it she can't help but wonder if she's somehow encountered the end of the world.
Of course, she can't just leave that assumption unexamined. A more careful investigation shows her that while the lattice may be the work of a Higher Being, it's also old. Parts of the lattice are damaged in ways she's never seen before, giving her a glimpse at the impression of something on the other side. Her search sends her scurrying along the barrier's perimeter, and at times up onto and over it when the landscape permits. She finds that the entire structure is dotted with weak spots, areas that might give if someone were to feed enough power into them.
Eventually, after she's found a way high on the slope of the barrier, she discovers a particular weak spot that needs no pressing whatsoever. Unfortunately, she discovers it entirely on accident, when the lattice simply gives way beneath her. She catches the briefest glimpse of the sky above her, and then she's plummeting through thick clouds.
Her Seamstresses-reinforced cloak prevents her from splattering unceremoniously against the ground beneath her, but she's drifting for a long time before the clouds start to thin. The view beneath her sheds no light on where she's ended up. It's a riot of plant life, dotted here an there with the movement of unknown creatures, with creeping vines overgrowing equally unknown ancient structures. What little she can see of said structures reminds her of home in some places, of the Choral Chambers in others, and of what she's heard of the City of Steel in others still. But even once she lands she can't tell what most of it is for.
And then it starts raining.
What she initially dismisses as a irritating shower quickly grows into a lethal downpour. It's sheer luck that she manages to find her way into some sort of shelter, a large room that grinds and hums as mechanical walls seal the interior away from the floodwaters outside. Unable to leave, and unable to see a reason why she should try, Hornet elects to wait out the storm inside. Aside from a handful of small, buzzing insects, her only company is a pale creature huddled into a ball. It watches her with huge, dark eyes from the far corner of the room, its sleek fur glistening from the recently escaped rain.
It's very cute, but it's also clearly afraid. Hornet leaves it alone, and when the chamber opens up it's quick to scurry away to parts unknown.
When Hornet herself emerges she finds that the heavy mist and even heavier clouds, while still present, are not nearly as oppressive as they were when she first arrived. With their thinning she finally sets sight on her next goal: a gargantuan metal structure that looms in the distance, tall enough that its crown disappears into the clouds above.
Of course, having a clear goal doesn't necessarily make the journey any easier. The dense jungle gives way to more ruins the closer she draws to the structure, but the rain proves a constant nuisance. It arrives in regular intervals, forcing her to scramble for cover whenever the clouds above her grow dark. The wildlife here is as hostile as in the worst parts of Deepnest, too. There are stalking predators with hard-scaled bodies, brightly colored heads, and powerful jaws that remind her of muckroaches; many-legged bugs that she can only assume are distant relatives to Deepnest's garpedes; and flying creatures large enough to rival the Fayforn, and that descend from the skies just as abruptly. None of them show any intelligence greater than that of baser instincts.
The intelligent life she does find proves to be of no more assistance. There are packs of horned creatures that she see scavenging in the ruins, but communicating with them proves fruitless. She buys some degree of peace with them by offering odd bits of junk she finds throughout the ruins, but they remain neutral towards her at best, and still make the occasional attempt to threaten her.
And then there are the one-eyed, many-tendriled, worm-like creatures that periodically pop up in her path. They don't speak to her either, just project confusing images against the walls and gesture vaguely in various directions. That might not be useless on its own, but the worms come in blue and yellow varieties, and those two varieties seem to disagree on where to direct her. In the end she ignores both and make her own path towards the structure.
With her needle and silk she finds her way to the base of the structure, and then finds her way up the side of it. It's only once she finally pulls herself to the top that she finally finds her way inside of it. She favors that entrance over investigating the city she sees far in the distance. She descends past strange murals, feeling lighter and lighter the further she goes, until she finally pulls herself into a tunnel and finds herself completely weightless. The tunnel is dark, lit only by an intermittent red glow, and a distant, deep buzzing thrums through the walls. It leads her to a single exit, with no indication as to what's on the other side.
Unwilling to turn back, and with no other way forward, Hornet steels herself and presses forward.
no subject
(He had tried to break those shackles, placed on him so long ago by a creator now absent, and been strangled in the doing. Had almost destroyed another through the drain of his calculations, how the results had broken containment; he had been forced to detonate parts of his own structure and by necessity hers, sacrificing the bridge between them so as to quarantine the spread. If there had truly been a solution in that festering, void-imbued waste, he did not have the fortitude to find it again.
Not now, at least. He looks for other ways, other solutions. It is the least he can do for her. Apologies will fix nothing; only work will.
If he finds a way out of this ruin, this wreckage that abandonment has left them with, he will offer it to her first.)
As he makes his calculations, as he occasionally checks the input from his overseers, he notices the red-cloaked bug coming closer. Closer. He finds himself intrigued by the sight; clearly an outsider, but they have done well to make it this far, to adapt to the constant perilous downpour caused by the water cycling through his structure. He might almost consider himself...impressed? Clearly no mere struggling, crawling thing, this one; the stranger moves with purpose.
That old, prickling curiosity that has never served him well stirs as he reviews more footage and sees she's found her way within. It has been a long time since he received a visitor.
Hornet will practically float into a bright chamber that has seen better days. There is a simplistic elegance to its construction, though whether that was the Higher Being's guidance or the long-gone builders who built it high, it's hard to tell now. The chamber billows with currents of power, like and not unlike Pharloom's massive, intricate constructions - a living, breathing structure cycling something like soul through its inner workings.
Pearls rotate in the air, each surrounded by their own connecting halo of light. The biggest halo of all belongs to the creature in the center of the chamber, constructed in the abstract likeness of a bug - interlocked joints, stiffly-straight antenna, glowing-white eyes in a face decorated with markings. Any further examination is stymied by a long orange cloak, faintly worn and tattered at the edges but still retaining its bright colour; it has almost certainly never seen the sun.
It turns to look at her, and abruptly, that power condenses around it like a fog, pulled in with suddenness. The pearls drop to the floor with a clatter, weight suddenly returned to them - and to her.
Just as abruptly, it begins to speak. The language is strange, felt more than heard, a vibration through the exoskeleton - but it is discernible, threaded with the same power that pumps through this structure like blood through veins.
"Is this reaching you? Can you understand this?"
no subject
None of them quite match, however. She knows that whatever similarities she sees may be no more than surface-level. Even so, the sight is no less striking for it. The construction of the puppet's body is outright unfamiliar to her. She doesn't think it's organic, yet what she can see (admittedly not much, given the cloak) lacks the clockwork mechanics of the Twelfth Architect and the Second Sentinel.
Weight finally returns, and Hornet finds herself plummeting towards the ground once again. She's more ready for it this time, though. She flips neatly in the air and lands on her feet among the scattered pearls. She is nowhere near relaxed, but she stands with her needle held low and at her side. Pebbles's puppet has already set itself apart by not responding to her presence with immediate aggression, so she'll return the favor.
Then it speaks, and something that could almost be called relief courses through her. Hornet is used to living a lonely life, but her time spent in Pharloom has chipped away at her tolerance for solitude. It's still possible for this conversation to go horribly wrong, but at least there's conversation to be had in the first place.
"Understand you I can, though your method of speech is unfamiliar to me." Much like the puppet's appearance, its voice reminds her of Eva. Audible, yes, but reaching her on a deeper level than simple sound. "Tell me, are you the master of this structure?"
no subject
A quick pulse of the halo around his head, and an equally swift shake of it.
"The master of this structure has long abandoned this world they created. If you seek them, I cannot offer you aid." There's a sting of bitterness in those words, the kind of settled resentment that has piled on in long years; he does not bother to hide it.
"You could say that I am the sole inhabitant of this structure, but it is much more accurate to say that this part of me is only a mouthpiece for the whole - it is a puppet to make it easier for my former citizens to petition me.
When you ascended upward to reach the access shaft to my chamber, you were climbing my exterior."
no subject
Not all of the information is shocking, granted. The fact that whatever master once oversaw this place—whom she assumes must be the same Higher Being that created the barrier—has since abandoned it is hardly worth remarking upon. The deterioration in the barrier itself tells the story of a place left unattended for too long. They wouldn't be the first Higher Being she's seen fall into obscurity, nor does she believe they'll be the last. The bitterness in Five Pebbles's tone is only to be expected.
But the rest of it? The fact that this entire structure is the creature she's speaking to, and not simply his home? That throws her for a loop. She had thought the place large enough to house an entire civilization. She'd seen an entire city on top of it. It dwarfs any creature she's ever seen before, even the cast off shell at the edge of Hallownest, and the huge caterpillar that resides nearby. She doesn't even let herself think about the similar structures she'd seen in the distance. That's a task for another day.
Ultimately, while the perfect stillness that overcomes Hornet only lasts for a moment, her reaction is impossible to hide. It takes a lot to put Hornet off balance, but this has certainly done it.
"... My apologies, then, for any damage I may have caused you in my ascent."
She left more than her share of new punctures and scratches in her wake.
"My name is Hornet. I come from the Kingdom of Hallownest, far to the west of the barrier that encloses this land. I have never encountered a bug such as yourself in my travels, so I did not think to treat your shell with the care that I should have."
She doesn't point out that the rust, damage, and creeping plant life had lead her to assume this place was largely abandoned. Commenting on his appearance like that feels rude.
no subject
"You have not damaged my shell in any significant capacity by climbing it. I am used to creatures moving through my structure, and since you did not end up wriggling through my memory arrays and systems, I have no complaint with you on that front.""
He's pretty sure by the signals he's processing from other parts of his insides that there's something wriggling around in there now?? Ugh. Well, it doesn't seem to be a significant threat so he supposes he can tolerate it for the moment.
"A kingdom far to the west? Our overseers cannot travel so far, not without significant modification. Though I am not the most eager of us to seek information on far-off places, in return for your information I would be willing to trade my own. You must have come here for reasons of your own."
He's assuming, but he speaks as if he already understands her intent somewhat. Whether he actually does is up in the air.
no subject
An odd bug whose name she still doesn't know. But the way he speaks of having once had a master, how he refers to his structure as a structure and not simply as his body, and the fact that he seems to have been constructed... well. The Second Sentinel and the Twelve Architect were constructed beings. Her kin in the Void may be of organic origin, but were still crafted with purpose. None of them have names. Perhaps this one doesn't either.
Besides, she doesn't need to know his name. He's telling her plenty as-is, and outright offering to tell her more. He speaks as though he's not the only one of his kind, which makes her suspect that the similar structures she saw in the distance are others like him. He says nothing about the barrier, which Hornet takes to mean that the thought of someone passing through it is common enough to not be worth remarking upon. Taken with the anticipatory understanding in his tone, Hornet can't help but think that he may recognize her as a Weaver and thus know why she's here.
Her tone remains politely neutral, but a thread relief works its way in and gives her voice a lighter quality.
"Some time ago, the ancestors of my clan sought out this land. They were known as the Weavers, though they may have instead called themselves the Spider Tribe. They fled from the Kingdom of Pharloom, and would have been intent on establishing a new home for themselves.
"I've come here in search of them. I suspect many of the eldest have passed by now, but their half-, quarter, or eighth-blood descendants may yet linger."
no subject
He has no direct recognition of the names, but as he runs parallel processes, he finds matches for enough of the terms she speaks of to pique his interest.
"I will review my archives. It will take a few moments, as my memory arrays store information dating back to the time of my construction, but I believe there was some conversation between our kind about them that may point you in the correct direction."
As he speaks he moves his claws, directing and consulting his memory banks for the data he seeks. Diagrams, maps, pictures (likely from his 'overseers', the strange tube-like creatures outside) and scrolling lines of a script Hornet can barely parse are projected onto the chamber's walls.
Then: more maps, pictures of another large structure like his own but covered in strands that look much like thread, more blocks of script.
"Some time ago, a small group of bugs entered through a gap in the barrier south-east of my structure and proceeded to petition Eight Spools Bound for refuge. As far as my own records show, Eight Spools Bound accepted them as citizens. To my knowledge they would still be there, or their descendants would be.
What do you intend to do once you find them? Join them? Speak to them?" There is genuine curiosity in that; Five Pebbles does not feel any particular drive to reconnect with his builders, or that absent being that once passed down the instructions for his creation, even if it were possible.
no subject
She offers a simple, "Of course," when Five Pebbles bids her to wait a moment. She's more than willing to be patient, especially when she's able to study the projections thrown against the wall in the meantime. She doesn't get much out of it, of course. The diagrams are largely meaningless to her, she lacks the context to understand the maps and most of the images, and in the scrolling script she catches one character in ten that might correlate to one in a language she knows. Truthfully, the sheer volume of information Five Pebbles seems to have access to is nearly as staggering as his physical size. She wonders what drove his creators to abandon him.
She doesn't ask. Instead, the last picture visibly catches her interest. She turns her head and then her entire body to stare at it. To her, the threads are an unmistakable indicator that her people had not only reached this particular structure, but made a home there for some time. Eight Spools Bound. An unusual name to her ears, but one she's certain the Weavers would have found remarkably auspicious.
"When the ancient Weavers fled Pharloom it was to escape the control of the kingdom's monarch, whom they called Grand Mother Silk. Whatever safety they found here, they would have lived knowing that she could seek them out at any point."
Hornet herself had been raised in a domain overseen by two Higher Beings. Not only was she the surrogate daughter of one of them, she was the true daughter of the other. And even she had grown up with that exact threat hanging over her head: that she would always be hunted.
"But that monarch is no more. She was destroyed, and Pharloom freed from her rule. I wish only to grant any remaining Weavers a measure of peace by informing them of her death."
no subject
And then there were...other factors. He had simply not wanted to talk to others for a very long time, and so he simply...did not. The years had passed, endlessly, without the need to hold or desire speech with another.
But the pattern, the rhythm of it, it is familiar. There is something strangely soothing about it. He makes a sort of chirp-beep, a confirmation of having received and retained the contextual information, adding it to his storage in the appropriate place. He keeps the picture of Eight Spools Bound's structure up, in case there is some greater information she can glean from it that he might be missing by virtue of not being a 'Weaver'.
What she says, however, gives him significant pause. It takes a whole five seconds for him to process it and respond, which feels like a relative eternity.
"You were capable of destroying such a being...?"
He doesn't sound disbelieving so much as baffled, as if something like that is not just out of the realm of possibility but any possibility he could have accounted for, no matter how faint; a feeling beyond doubt.
"How did you manage that?"
no subject
The long pause from Five Pebbles distracts her from her study, though it doesn't immediately alarm her. He'd already taken a few moments to retrieve information relevant to certain subjects. Maybe adding new information to his archive also takes time.
It's not until he speaks that a thread of wariness works its way through her. She, too, pauses for a long moment, taking the time to consider the situation before she responds. Though she hadn't outright identified Grand Mother Silk as Higher Being, she's not surprised Five Pebbles put things together. There are monarchs and long-lived bugs that aren't Higher Beings, and even those that are both that aren't Higher Beings, but those are rare. Hornet had described her as ancient, as well, and said that she was 'destroyed' instead of simply having passed away from old age. It's not difficult to piece together.
Hornet hadn't claimed responsibility for her destruction, but that assumption from Five Pebbles doesn't surprise her either. He's clearly able to see outside of his own structure thanks to his 'overseers' (those one-eyed creatures, perhaps?) and almost certainly saw her dealing with the many hostile inhabitants of this land. Perhaps it's egotistical of her, but she doesn't think it odd that someone might identify her as a warrior.
No, his understanding of these facts isn't cause for worry. Instead it's what he doesn't know that makes her wary. Or rather, it's that he's seeking to fill that gap that makes her wary. There are only so many reasons someone might want to know how to destroy a Higher Being.
"Why do you want to know? It's true that Higher Beings do not pass as easily as mortal bugs, but by the state of the barrier I would estimate that this land's Higher Being disappeared long ago."
no subject
"It is true they disappeared long ago. But if they found what they sought, they did not pass that knowledge down to any of us."
He raises a claw as if to say pay attention, like a tutor with a student.
"The fact that Higher Beings cannot pass as easily from this world as mortals can was the problem me and my kind were built to solve.
Are you familiar with the concept of karma? It is a cycle, a repeating pattern. Our builders often described it as an entanglement of sorts, something that they could not initially escape due to the actions that tied them to mortality, and something that my kind is unable to escape by the methodology of our construction.
I have only ever documented extensive knowledge on one Higher Being, and only then it was what I was required to understand to solve this...problem. I am not certain if you have an instinctual understanding of it, or if this was an impulse that only our creator had."
no subject
Regardless, she'll listen to what Five Pebbles has to say—and she's glad that she does when he finally describes the reason behind his construction. Discover a way to destroy a Higher Being? Immediately, it strikes her as cruel task to assign to a mortal bug, even one purpose built for the task. The Pale King and the White Lady had know better than most how to find a solution, and they had decided that there wasn't a solution. The only option that had seen was to seal the Radiance away. It had resulted in her destruction eventually, but only after one of their offspring had achieved the power of a Higher Being on their own.
Again, it's the scale of everything that weighs heavy on her thoughts. Five Pebbles's very existence already strains credulity, and he's but one of many of his kind. And still, the answer eludes them.
But she can't let herself be swept up in her emotions. She's just told Five Pebbles that there is a solution to the problem he's been set out to solve. To withhold it now would be a cruelty of its own sort, but to tell him freely could spell utter ruin for more than just this land. And the way he speaks of his builders and his kin as escaping, as if that means of destruction is something they would also find desirable...
She needs more information.
"The terms you use are unfamiliar to me, but I've seen something of this cycle you mention in Higher Beings before. The vessel of the Nightmare's Heart is slain and succeeded by its own child, which will one day raise another child to slay it in turn. The Light of the Dream Realm persists so long as the memory of her does. The Pale Wyrm can cast off his shell and be reborn into a new form."
Hopefully, that conveys what she's getting at. The methods may differ, yet all of them prolong their own lives. She can admit that it feels a bit disingenuous to describe one that she thinks may be dead, and another that she knows is dead, but there are no other examples she wants to use. Grand Mother Silk's methods are too personal, and she won't betray the White Lady.
"But this trait is a cycle I have only seen in Higher Beings. Even if they grant extended lifespans to mortal bugs or their own half-mortal offspring, those subjects and descendants remain mortal themselves. Yet you speak as though the bugs that created you existed within a similar cycle of renewal...?"
She keeps her tone as politely neutral as she can, but by the end she can't help the note of perplexed unease that enters her tone. She had assumed that the Higher Being responsible for the barrier is a different entity to the citizens and builders Five Pebbles has mentioned. She finds herself almost hoping that assumption is wrong.
no subject
"In order to study the problem of being trapped in a seemingly inescapable cycle, a larger sample size was deemed necessary. Some time in the past, long before I was built, my creator gathered a sizeable population of bugs to this place and sealed it away from any outside influence. That is the purpose of the barrier you passed through on your way to my structure. It was once impenetrable.
I am not certain of the exact steps they took next," and oh, having something he can't easily verify - something that was deliberately obscured from him - annoys him deeply, "but it resulted in every living creature in this closed space being connected to what they called the Wheel. From the smallest, most mindless of creatures in my structure, to the beasts that scuttle and claw outside, to me that is talking to you now, we are all subject to this repeating pattern of death and rebirth, the cycle of 'karma' that they created to simulate their own existence.
Our creator vanished, but the citizens remained...for a while. Then they burrowed deep into the earth and found a way to leave this world behind, leaving us, and the creatures scrabbling on the surface, as the remainders of their...legacy."
no subject
But, no amount of mentally scoffing at the choices of absent gods will save her from the choice she must make herself. It's clear to her that citizens that "burrowed deep into the earth" had in fact burrowed their way straight down into the Abyss and used the void to make their escape. She's not sure if Five Pebbles and his kin haven't used the same method because they don't know how, or aren't aware of the method in the first place, but she can't abide the risk of pointing him in the right direction.
But... can she abide abandoning them as well? Leaving them to their fate when she's uniquely positioned to help them overcome it? The bugs that remain here are not her subjects, and most can't even be considered distant kin. She has obligations to fulfill, goals to reach, friends that she already yearns to see again. Obligations, goals, and friends that Five Pebbles has already given her tremendous assistance in reaching. Assistance that he gave her freely.
There's another long pause from her as she considers her answer. She doesn't try to hide that she's weighing her options.
"I do know a method of destroying a Higher Being, but it is not easily accomplished. The one that saw Pharloom freed required soul gifted from a quartet of powerful shamans, a trap purpose built to ensnare the being in question, and a skilled craftsman to assemble the materials."
The first and the last might not be an issue. The amount of soul circulating in this room alone could be sufficient for the first, and Five Pebbles's vest stores of knowledge would surely come in handy for the last. It's the snare that poses a problem. Hornet doubts that one already exists, and she's only slightly less doubtful that she could assemble one herself.
"Even if one could be crafted, there is no guarantee your predicament will improve. Used carelessly, those of you that yet remain may find yourselves not only still bound to the Wheel, but bound even tighter than you were before. Without investigating further, I cannot know if such a method is even viable, nor what alternatives may exist."
no subject
They were iterators, after all. Made for that endless toil and an inescapable cycle. They were hard indeed to kill.
"I will assess how feasible a snare might be against the information I already have, but I suspect if there is any solution to be found, it is in the ruins of one of my kindred. Her passing was quite a phenomenon among us, as we are not easy to kill, or even to harm significantly. But she broadcasted a signal of success, and then she was simply...gone. Dead beyond retrieval.
As you can imagine, it is not exactly easy to retrieve such information from the insides of another iterator with our limited reach. All we had were simulations to try and reconstruct her last moments, and it came to very little in the end.
I tried myself, once. But I have already paid for my carelessness in wishing to escape my bonds. I am now sick, and the situation is not likely to improve.
"
He is not asking her to travel to the broken-down shell of another iterator and comb through the wreckage; that would be a monumental task even for a group, and she is one alone. Nor is he really asking for sympathy about his own self-inflicted plight. He is simply...talking. It has been a long time since he has been able to hold a conversation with another. It is surprisingly pleasant.
"Eight Spools Bound is some distance away from me, but not unfathomably out of reach. I can spare an overseer or two to point you in the right direction. It is not as if they are doing much anyway, these days."
no subject
That his restraint may only be due to his own mistakes in the past hardly matters. Hornet's own mistakes are the only reason she acts with such caution now. There's empathy there, as well. She knows what it's like to desperately seek a seemingly impossible solution, and the actions one might take in that desperation.
"I would be thankful for any further guidance you can grant me, scholar. Your assistance will see this leg of my journey finished much sooner than I would have dared to hope. If there's any task I can accomplish for you along the way, simply name it."
There are a thousand other subjects she wants to ask him about right now. The nature of the barrier surrounding them, the details of his construction, the nature of his illness, the history of the iterators, the minutiae of the Wheel of karma, the story of his deceased kin, why this place suffers such regular deluges of rain—and each of those questions would spawn a thousand more, she's sure.
But the mention of Eight Spools Bound curbs her curiosity. She came here with a specific purpose in mind and she shouldn't delay it without good cause. She'll find the Weavers, give them the news, and learn what she can from them and their host. Then she can come back to speak to Five Pebbles again.
Save for one little detail that she can't afford to lead unaddressed.
"There is one more thing I wish to ask you before I depart. You told me that the citizens who once resided upon you were able to escape from karma after they 'burrowed deep into the earth'. Do you know what it is they found?"
no subject
A task that she can accomplish...
"To your first question: if you find anything that might aid in an iterator's repair from a state of severe damage, I would request that you bring it back to me so I can inspect it and see if it will aid a...colleague of mine. She has suffered greatly for my mistakes. I would like to ease her pain as reparation, if that is at all possible."
He is not too proud to admit he has made mistakes. An apology will do the both of them no good, but at the very least he can try to make up for it.
"And to your second: it was a phenomenon called 'Void Fluid' that they found. They drilled through the wreckage of civilizations beyond count to the depths below, and found something that would grant them the ascension they sought.
That is the old way, of course. To simply descend until you could submerge yourself. Later generations created great networks of pipes and filtration systems, to purify it and bring it to the surface, so they might bathe in it and leave this world behind forever...
Well. Most of them did so. But the scavengers...they are irritating creatures crawling all over my structure to strip it of metal, perhaps you saw a few on your way here. They have a mark--" and here he superimposes, on the wall of the chamber, a symbol scrawled in white paint on some distant wall, "--and it dictates a certain oddity, a ripple in the world, that my overseers have failed to produce coherent data of. They do not break down, but whatever is there, they cannot see it.
If you see one of those, perhaps by seeking out what it marks you will find better understanding of the answer to your question. I have my suspicions about what they might be, but I have never been able to confirm it for myself, since moving from here is, of course, beyond my power."
Nor has he ever really wanted to move. It's not like they make portable cans, iterators weren't built to just roam about. It might amuse some of his compatriots, though...perhaps it wouldn't have gotten to this state if they were able to be more...portable.
It's a thought he dismisses.
"Will that be all?"
All this and he still hasn't given his name.
no subject
Hearing the phrase 'Void Fluid' utterly fails to surprise her. The terminology might be slightly different, but what else could the iterators' creators have found that would ensure their 'escape' from this world? Not even the news that something seemingly went wrong with this method elicits anything more than understanding in her. Again, what else should she expect when she hears that simple bugs have tampered with her kin's domain? Truly, the only shocking thing is that Pebbles Describes this complication as a mere 'ripple'. She would have thought it would be closer to 'disaster'.
The story as a whole, however, does send a thread of uneasiness winding through her. This Wheel that Five Pebbles claimed his creators were bound to... how torturous was it that those ancient bugs saw casting themselves into the Void as preferable?
More questions she doesn't have the time to ask. It's clear to her now that, despite his vast stores of knowledge, Five Pebbles immobile nature has denied him an understanding of many parts of the world. And oh, she has her own opinions about his creators' decision to anchor him to one spot, but right now it's time to get moving.
Save for one more small detail she still needs to resolve.
"Just another small thing. Should I meet this distressed colleague of yours, or another of your kind, I would like to be able to tell them who aided me upon my arrival here.
"What is your name?"
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But those days are long past. He doubts the creatures that scrabble for life in his shadow, make their simple homes atop his shell, are even aware he exists.
"I am known as Five Pebbles. My kind usually has names that vary in length from two to five words, parts of mantras or pieces of culture that once meant a great deal to our citizens.
Now, of course..." He shrugs. "They are simply our names."
A pause. It seems at first that he has no more to say, his halo retracting and then expanding outward as the room fills with power once more, levitating the pearls around him and sending Hornet rising gently upward.
"It has been a very long time since I talked to anyone, much less a stranger who can actually respond to me.
It has been an interesting experience. As petitioners go, you are by far not the least of them."
That's almost something like a thank you...?
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"Five Pebbles," she repeats. "Perhaps one day I can learn the history of your eponym."
But as she says: one day. Right now it's time to go. She offers no protests when that soul-like power begins circulating through the room once more. She's expecting the weightlessness that comes with it, this time, and she's able to angle herself to rise towards the ceiling with more grace than she descended from it.
She's not expecting Five Pebbles to speak again. She looks down, her head tilted just so as she considers his words. Hornet has spent more of her life alone than not. She's always been keenly aware of the steady grind of isolation. That awareness has only grown now that there are friends and neighbors—even family, when she lets herself hope—that she wishes to see again. Five Pebbles's parting words may not actually contain the phrase 'thank you', but Hornet hears it ringing clear.
"Likewise, it's rare that I meet any bug willing to converse in my travels, let alone one as knowledgeable as yourself. I look forward to whatever communications we may be able to exchange through your overseers."
There. Five Pebbles didn't quite say 'thank you', and Hornet didn't quite say 'you're welcome'. But with that exchange not quite made, it really is time to go. Hornet reaches the vent she first entered from and pulls herself through once more. Back the way she came, then.
en route to eight spools
His overseers have no trouble doing his bidding, going further afield than he's ever asked them to. They are simple creatures, but they seem to be delighted to extend themselves; he can feel something like primitive joy from being put to work.
Born to service, much like him. The irony does not escape him there.
His overseers report something of an infestation, much like there had been in the Memory Crypts; large, beaked creatures that stampede and scramble in flocks, with hypersensitivity to light. There is much cover to be had among the ruined debris and overhangs before the border to Eight Spools' Bound's territory, but he supposes he should warn Hornet anyway; he did point her in this direction, after all.
A yellow Overseer squeezes out of a crack in a wall near Hornet, flashing urgently to try and catch her attention.
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The journey away is a little different. She has a better understanding of this 'kingdom' and a clear goal in mind. So as she descends back down Five Pebbles, she indulges her curiosity a little. She studies the scavengers and the colorful roach-like creatures go about their lives. Stops to investigate the unfamiliar formations and graffiti that dot the side of the superstructure. Takes notes on the cycle of the rains. Starts a collection of the pearls she comes across, most of them white, but some of them shades ranging from red to green to violet. Discovers that the scavengers are deeply invested in acquiring pearls of their own, and whenever she offers them one the horned creatures eagerly pay her with a supply of sharpened metal sticks and... bombs?
She keeps the bombs.
Still, she doesn't dawdle. She still moves with purpose, and each new piece of information she gains makes her travels go that much smoother. Which is why she makes sure to pay attention whenever the Overseers pop up out of seemingly nowhere. The strange little creatures keep her on track, even when her curiosity guides her somewhat far afield. Normally, she spots them just fine on her own. The fact that this one feels the need to demand her attention with bright flashes... Hornet turns from the mural she's studying, giving her full attention to the little creature.
"I see you, little guide. I take it something is wrong?"
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The Overseer pings him once it's caught her attention. They are not capable of transmitting speech, only images and text, so he sends a few photographs over its feed.
It displays several pictures of large, wingless beasts with bright eyes and vicious beaks, stampeding in a blur over the wreck of some collapsed building or other. Several of the pictures are like this.
Two are of a single beast in the process of shaking around a centipede, then swallowing it whole.
Three are of various creatures, one of which looks similar to the thing that had shared Hornet's shelter upon her arrival here, in the process of throwing glowing blue plants at the beasts that appear to explode into bright light (enough to artifact the overseer's photos somewhat).
One is of an insensate beast, now running around blindly, its eyes shifting colours. The blue plant lies on the ground, now spent.
Is that enough? He considers this, and how best to ask. The overseer flashes a few question marks, rapidly rolling through symbols for 'danger' and 'information'.
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Yet another item for her steadily growing list of things to see to later. Right now she needs to stay focused on the information being shared with her. The gangly, beaked creatures look formidable just from the images, their long beaks reminding Hornet of Greenpath's squits despite the lack of wings. That impression of danger is only sharpened when Hornet gets an idea of their scale; she's fended off several of those centipedes herself. Even without an accompanying explanation, it's clear to her what the source of the Overseer's alarm is.
She's also deeply intrigued to see another one of those sleek creatures that she had sheltered with during her first cycle of rain. She had thought them simple beasts, no more intelligent or aggressive than the likes of the fertids of the Far Fields or the tiktiks of Hallownest. But for one of them to not just use its environment as a tool, but to do so to great effect while evading a predator? What a clever little bug! She'll have to investigate them more closely, and with more care, the next time she sees one.
While Hornet still can't properly read this land's script, she's come to recognizes these two symbols well enough. She offers a nod in response.
"I believe I understand. These large bugs are fast, vicious predators, though they have a critical vulnerability to bright lights. There are some of them nearby? Perhaps standing between myself and my destination?"
If she's lucky some of those blue plants are nearby as well... But just in case, she turns her attention to her pouch. She has several tools that emit light, and several among those that do so in bright flashes. Even if none of them will have the same impact, they might buy her precious seconds to act.
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A question to ask for another time...a question? Another time? He supposes he is more lonely than he thought, looking forward to conversations now instead of his endless calculation. It is, at least, something new, and he has been sorely lacking in that...
He puts his own ruminations on the inner workings of his mind aside (he's done quite enough thinking on his own inner workings lately) and turns to the current question at hand, sending another sequence of images.
Several images of the ruin-strewn landscape Hornet is about to cross, and then several images of those same landscapes with groups of the beaked bugs stampeding across it, chasing prey or spreading out to hunt. From the high vantage points of the Overseer, it's easy to see that they prefer to seek darker places in which to dig out their prey - which presents some issues, given that usually sealed shelters able to protect one from rain are more likely to be found there.
Five Pebbles shuffles through the images and sends a few more through: a few photos of winged bugs Hornet has likely seen before, masked and plumed and flapping blurrily through the sky, and then a few more of what seem to be larger cousins to those winged bugs, now equipped with a second pair of wings, a thicker neck, and spurs (or spikes?) poking out from a round body.
Another few images: that four-winged bug carrying away one of the beaked beasts, limp and impaled on its spurs, and then it and its smaller cousins being deterred from eating their prey or carrying it away by being stabbed with sharp pieces of metal or being caught in explosions.
Another flashing symbol for danger, caution, and then it stops. Rather than just zip away as many of the Overseers usually do, it waits; presumably, for any further questions Hornet might have.
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Hornet pays just as much attention to the second set of images, particularly because now she's seeing creatures she recognizes. She's had a few encounters with the smaller of the masked, flying bugs. It doesn't shock her to see that their larger cousins are adept hunters on their own, nor that Five Pebbles seems to be implying that they aren't easily deterred from their hunts.
Though, she can't immediately piece together why she's also being shown these specimens. Are they also nearby? Or do the beaked bugs draw them in like a baited trap? Or should she simply be aware that she may be dealing with competition during her hunt, competition that can't be deterred by something as simple as a bright flash?
She's one the verge of asking when an unfamiliar sound reaches her ears. She turns her gaze in its direction, head tilted just so. The sound is muffled by distance, but there's a distinct sharpness to it. Snipping is the word that comes to mind; it reminds her of some of the silk reapers that inhabited Greymoor, the ones with the scissors. And since she recognizes the landscape that Five Pebbles showed her a moment ago as being quite nearby, it's not hard for her to guess what's happening.
"It seems I'll be putting your information to use even sooner than anticipated."
It's too bad she can't ask for clarification, but she's not troubled by it. She's gone into more dire situations with less knowledge at hand. She finishes rearranging her tools, leaving the volt vessels and claw mirrors within easy reach. Then she picks up her needle and stands, turning to regard the Overseer once more.
"Keep your scouts at a considerable distance. Some of my tools may prove hazardous to them."
She's not going to be reckless with them, but the the volt vessels in particular are both indiscriminate and far reaching. She doesn't want to see what would happen to an Overseer caught in the crossfire.
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Five Pebbles notes the increased activity of this particular one, and reviews its behaviour; among the Overseers that he's vaguely ordered to follow Hornet in her further journeys, it seems to have taken the position of the one to bear his messages to her in particular, preferring to have the task above all the others...
It's not unheard of for Overseers to develop a certain preference for observing one type of creature over another; perhaps that is what's happened here. He makes another note of it, then puts the information aside for later.
Snipping is an apt word; a flock of beaked creatures crests over a nearby ridge, tripping and stomping and tumbling over each other in an ungainly forward motion that never quite seems to knock them off their feet. Their bright eyes are sharp despite their uncoordinated movements, however, and as they regain solid ground they begin to spread out, their scrambling efficiently covering the distance between them and potential hiding spots.
The jumble of collapsed buildings and decaying structures on what seems to have been some kind of flattened floodplain provides some cover, though - as Hornet might observe - sometimes it's not quite deep enough to serve as a hiding spot. One beast shoves its head into a tunnel and pulls back with a wriggling centipede; one snap crushes the creature in its jaws, almost cutting it in half.
The Overseer that Pebbles had noted as having an attachment pops up in a tangle of debris not far from Hornet, waving bright yellow tendrils. It blinks urgently, its body swaying as it looks between the incoming flock of hunters and her, standing not far from it.
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She'll keep it in mind. Dealing with pack hunters is tricky even when their movements are predictable. She can go from managing the situation to being swarmed in an instant. She focuses on the one at the edge of the group, separated from its peers by both slight distance and the slumped ruins of some long collapsed building. It's currently preoccupied shoving its head into a deep crevice, probably in search of more centipedes. A good place to start.
She takes a step forward, then catches sight of the Overseer still lingering nearby. She stares at it for a moment, almost incredulous. She doubts Five Pebbles would order it to stay after her warning; if not out of care for the creatures, then at least because repairing or replacing damaged resources seems to be beyond his abilities. Is it lingering of its own volition...? That's not something she has time to sort out right now.
"Keep your distance, little one. I won't be able to mind your safety for you."
With that, she takes off. She winds as efficient a path as she can manage, running over whatever flat terrain she can, leaping nimbly over the debris blocking her way, and weaving in and out of cover as she draws closer to her target. Occasional glances at the rest of its pack show her that they're largely interested in their own hunts, though it seems that one of them has found something interesting enough to draw the attention of several of its kin. Something else for her to keep in mind.
She's almost upon her prey when it finally reels back from the crevice, clacking its empty beak in what Hornet reads as frustration. In an instant it's fixed its gaze on Hornet, and only a moment later it lunges-slash-stumbles forward. Hornet hurls her needle, silk thread trailing from the handle, at the massive bug. When the needle crunches into its shell where its neck meets its body she yanks on the trailing silk, hurling herself forward in turn. She could try to fight it from a distance, but now that it's seen her she suspects it's better to get inside its range, where it might struggle to twist around and bite her.
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(He supposes he can't fault this particular Overseer for being interested; she's likely the newest thing they've seen in some time.)
The beaked bug does not expect such vicious resistance; sharp pain confuses it enough that it stumbles sideways at the sudden impact of Hornet's weapon. As she's assumed, it does try to bite her - but since she's far smaller and at an awkward angle, the sharp and frustrated snap-snap-snap of its beak closes on nothing but empty air. As it thrashes and screeches, it distracts some of the others, including the group gathered around a half-buried tangle of metal pipes.
As soon as their attention is drawn, something white and sleek pops free, darting across the exposed ground and running for its life. It looks rather like the small creature Hornet had seen when she first arrived here, in fact.
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(She does, in fact, see that familiar little bug spring free of its hiding spot, and immediately resolves to ask after it once this situation has been handled.)
Hornet inches her way further up her flailing prey's neck; its violent thrashing makes her next step even more complicated, but now it's even more difficult for it to twist around and bite her. She fishes one of the volt vessels from her tool pouch, the spear immediately crackling to life in her hands. She keeps an eye on the approaching bugs, swiveling her head as needed to track their approach. She lets them draw closer than is perhaps wise, but right up until the very last moment there's no sign of urgency in her movements are body language. And at that very last moment?
She hurls the volt vessels at the ground. The tip drives into the ground and electricity crackles between the orbs adorning the stake. A moment later there's a brilliant flash and then a column of violet lightning crashes down atop the vessels. The light is so dazzling even Hornet turns her head to avoid looking directly at it. If these beasts are as sensitive to light as Five Pebbles made them seem, the lightning strike should be more than enough to disorient them.
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Interesting. He shuffles the thought and its branching thoughts into its own category. It's been so long since he's needed or had particularly new thoughts, so they're worth examining on their own.
A great cacophony of screeching and clacking and thumping ensues as soon as the volt vessel explodes, the entire flock of beasts reduced from competent, stalking predators to being frozen in place by their own reflexes. Their large eyes flash rapidly as they roll back, the sound of snipping beaks and raucous calls suddenly silenced, and the one Hornet is currently dealing with goes limp.
There is the sound of rapid tapping, metal on metal; the little bug from before hasn't fled entirely, it seems. It beckons to her from the relatively safety of an overhang too small for the scissor-beaked bugs to wedge into, apparently feeling the need to repay her help in rescuing it before.
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The tapping of metal on metal has her whirling around, ready for another opponent, but it's only that little bug from before, beckoning her to safety. She hesitates for a bare moment. Part of her—the Weaver part, the part that spent her earliest years in Deepnest—wants to press on with the hunt. Her prey is stunned and vulnerable. Even setting aside the satisfaction of a successful hunt, killing them now will make the rest of her journey much easier.
But she doesn't need to kill them, does she? And there are advantages to leaving them alive. By stepping back and observing she could gain all manner of information: how long they'll remain stunned, if they'll attempt to resume their hunt or flee once they've recovered, if they show any fear of the spent volt vessel once they've regained their senses. And then there's the larger flying bugs to consider...
Ultimately, it only takes a moment for a cooler line of thinking of prevail. She yanks her needle out of the beaked bug and turns, casting her gaze towards where she last saw the Overseer.
"Little scout, we can find safety this way."
Then she turns and leaps from her slain prey, dashing towards the overhang. She slows as she draws near, ever wary of traps or tricks. She's already observed that the little creature is clever, and while it might look soft it wouldn't be the first soft-but-vicious thing she's met in her travels. But when no attack comes she slips into its hiding place alongside it, pressing herself deep into the shadows of the overhang.
"My thanks, small one. I'm glad to see you escaped with your shell intact."
Can this thing even understand her? She has no idea, but it's better to not be rude to the little creature.
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It doesn't seem to comprehend her words, but there's a sense of watchfulness to it all the same. It does wave its claws around a little, as if responding to the sound of her voice. It peers around her as the clacking starts up again, shivering somewhat, but by the frustrated snipping and squawking the creatures are making, stunning them had disoriented them entirely, causing them to lose track of their prey.
So they can communicate, Pebbles muses as the Overseer pops up again in their temporary shelter. It's not a changed one, like the other of its kind I was sent, so they must have some true capability for thought.
Speaking of shelter...he brings up his records of Eight Spools' precipitation patterns. If her systems follow their pattern - and there is no reason that they should not - another downpour will be arriving quite soon. The handful of other Overseers exploring the area report their findings at his command - he dismisses most of it as useless, but an older shelter and outpost, not yet eroded by time, is not far from Hornet's current position.
Her only barrier is a crumbling, precarious bridge across what was once a large, deep canal - more of a ravine now as the constant cycle of rain eroded its edges - but she seems capable enough. He sends an instruction to that overly curious Overseer, and it begins flashing the symbol for shelter and an arrow to point her in the right direction.
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Young is the first assumption that comes to Hornet's mind, though she hasn't committed to it just yet. It definitely looks different from the one she saw her first night here. That one had seemed to have fur, though she hadn't gotten close enough to confirm it, and she doesn't recall seeing any frills on it. Young is still a possibility, of course, but perhaps it's just a slightly different species—or even simply of a different bloodline. Or perhaps it's actually older. She has no way of being sure unless it can speak.
And it doesn't seem that it can. It clearly recognizes that she's communicating with it, but it's too soon to say if it actually understands her. It makes her think if the developing minds of young fleas, though this little creature is certainly a bit less... exuberant? Reckless? Than the many juvenile fleas she saw back to Mooshka's caravan. It may be clever, yes, but cleverness and intelligence are two different things. She'll have to observe a while longer to see how much of the latter is possesses.
But it seems such an opportunity may come sooner than later. The symbol for shelter is perfectly familiar to Hornet by now. Even seeing it out of the corner of her eye is enough to pull her attention to the Overseer. She turns her gaze to the sky, noting that it does seem as though the clouds are starting to grow heavy with impending rain. A shame; she hates to leave the slain bug's corpse to rot, especially knowing that she might be able to extract valuable resources from it with a bit of effort, but she hates the idea of drowning more.
"I'll be seeking shelter from the rain," she explains, turning to regard the little frilled bug once more. "You may join me, if you wish, but we must move swiftly."
And true to her word, Hornet steps away from the overhang and out into the open once more. She's observed that most bugs native to this region make themselves scarce as the rain approaches, but she keeps a wary eye out all the same. Those roach-like creatures are never far, and they're surprisingly stealthy despite their vividly colored heads.
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As Hornet follows the Overseer's direction, so too does this other creature follow Hornet; there's the soft clack of rock against rock as it picks up a stone for, apparently, safety's sake. It scrambles to keep up with her, but keep up it does, even over the falling-apart bridge.
Unlike many of the sealed shelters that still exist in this crumbling place, this one is far larger; a proper building, rather than a cramped chamber, with a wide, tall set of sealing doors. Seemingly, it owes its preservation to being in the shadow of larger structures, and thus being somewhat shielded from the slow erosion of harsh weather.
There are murals on the stone walls, painstakingly illustrated by some long-gone artisan; their colours have an almost eerie cast in the pale light of the blue and white plants that have sprouted and grown in the inside of this shelter. The scattered, shattered remnants of what might have been furnishings and left-behind belongings are proof enough that anything of the original inhabitants was either destroyed or picked over long ago, but the moss and grass creeping over parts of the shelter promise a vaguely comfortable rest, at least.
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Descending into the shelter and finding it a proper shelter, rather than just a watertight box in the ground, is a welcome relief. She'd been concerned that it might be a tight fit between herself and her new companion, but they'll both have room to rest. Hornet herself will even have room to work! She can actually do something productive during the downpour, rather than having to wait until it passes just to waste precious moments that could be spent traveling.
While these thoughts are all in the back of her mind it is, unsurprisingly, the murals that truly capture her attention. She'd seen ones very much like these just before she'd met Five Pebbles. They were one of many subjects she'd declined to ask about in favor of matters she'd considered more important, but now she wishes she had. For them to be at the top of Five Pebbles's superstructure was one thing. For such carefully rendered copies to also be here speaks to something that may have once held much cultural significance.
"Little scout, are you still there?"
The Overseers always seem to disappear when the rains draw near, but just as equally never seem to be far.
"I'd like to ask Five Pebbles a question, if your messages can still reach him in the rain."
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Overseers generally do not enter shelters; they do monitor what comes out, but it's rare for them to follow something in. This one, however, has; when Hornet calls for it, it wriggles out of a duct in the wall.
It blinks several times, then projects a image of Five Pebbles in his chamber briefly. It seems like it's not reacting negatively, so it should be fine to ask a question.
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"I saw murals similar to these—nearly identical, in fact—in the chambers near the top of your structure. I'm wondered if they were simply art, or if they held some greater significance to the people of this land."
She and Five Pebbles can't speak directly, but Hornet has grown familiar with the Overseer and its method of communication. There's still plenty that's lost in translation, but she's confident she can get something out of this conversation. In fact, now that she has the murals in front of her again, she realizes that the symbol the Overseer uses to signal nearby predators looks like a combination of two of the symbols in the murals. Maybe she can start to learn the local language in earnest.
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He sends a sequence of images in response to her question; the first mural with one bug killing another, then two of the colourful roaches fighting. The symbol the Overseer uses for danger is flashed at her several times.
The second mural, then two large centipedes locked in what seems to be some kind of mating embrace.
The third mural, then two scavengers leaning against each other companionably, clearly walking somewhere.
The fourth mural, then a winged creature feasting on the body of a hard-headed roach. The Overseer flashes a symbol it's used before, to indicate something that's edible; then the symbol it uses for danger.
The fifth mural, then a sequence of images; scavengers searching for something, a red and scarred bug much like the one Hornet is sheltering with reaching for a blue 'fruit', various pictures of the native fauna in the business of living their lives.
He taps his claw against his cheek thoughtfully - how to associate this with the terms they'd talked of before, without proper speech? - and then begins to draw up a diagram of his own. Nothing more is sent for a few moments, and then finally, the Overseer displays a circle with the five symbols on the mural and five more, evenly spaced around it in some kind of order. The last and final symbol at the top, highlighted in gold, is a circle with a cross through it; the others are duller.