#Not enough room for every permutation so it’s approximate

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Tossing this around in my head. Tag yourself I dare you

[spirkme915]

my muse took a hard left turn yesterday and i picked up a fic i'd given up on months ago. this is pretty much how it went down...

no one:

me: aos spirk kohlinar fic (with an extra painful twist) coming right up

angst-ridden snippet (with an eventual HEA) under the cut:

Approximately six months into their first five year mission, the main transporter room of the Enterprise picks up a ghost. Or, at least, that’s what the crew decides to call it.

Jim tries really hard to dissuade the entire idea, but it can’t be picked up on sensors, there’s no mechanical or alien explanation for it, and Scotty - the most brilliant engineer Jim has ever known - is at a complete loss.

So. The voice and cold spot in the transporter room becomes The Ghost.

Sometimes the crew picks up a hint of a whisper - a voice steady, insistent, and sure, but never recordable or decipherable. Sometimes there’s a tangible tug of a uniform pant then a wash of cold, usually at pad number four. Jim’s seen the crew drawing lots to see who has to take up that spot before a mission and doesn’t fight it anymore. There’s no point since he’s never going to tell them that it’s not The Ghost they should fear — it’s the lack of it.

Honestly? Jim never would’ve picked up the pattern. There are too many variables when they undergo a mission — number of assigned crew, emergency status, mission parameters, mission preparedness, and which of the twelve transporter rooms they beam out from, or if they beam out of an official transporter room at all. Jim’s good at seeing patterns, really good at complex math, but not good enough to take billions of possible permutations and synthesize them into one dangerous truth:

The Ghost always remains silent before missions that go bad.

Twelve years since their spectral frenemy’s arrival, Jim stands in the main transporter room facing the platform and the sole occupant of pad number two. They both stand with their hands clasped behind their backs. Silence weights of every atom of oxygen Jim forces into his lungs.

The bitter part of him — the too Human part of him — revels in the quiet. He’s always known that this run would come to an end. That the Enterprise couldn’t stay out in deep space forever. He’s always known that the end of their second five-year mission would mean a refit of the “Fleet flagship, a slew of promotions, and an unknown future. He always expected that he’d hear hints of a whisper when he beamed off the Enterprise for, possibly, the last time. He expected that The Ghost, in its own spectral frenemy way, would bless him.

But it’s not him beaming off the Enterprise for, definitely, the last time.

Spock stands stiffly in Vulcan robes on transporter pad number two, his affect distant and cold. So far removed that he may as well already be on the ground.

Next to Jim, Nyota seethes.

“Give us the room,” Nyota says to the techs without bothering to turn around.

Jim glances over his shoulder to nod his approval, but they’ve already abandoned their post and are scampering for the hallway. Smart move; he wishes he could join them.

“He’s not coming, Spock,” Nyota says. “If you’re holding off beaming down because you expect McCoy to show up — or anyone else for that matter — it’s not happening.”

Spock doesn’t answer. His gaze doesn’t shift from somewhere off in the middle distance.

Jim breathes in more of the silence, bitterness carving deeper into his veins.

“Look me in the fucking eye,” Nyota snaps. “You owe me that much.”

Spock’s cold stare slides to her and Nyota tilts her head, a motion so Spock-like that a shiver ripples down Jim’s spine.

“No. It’s not McCoy. What are you waiting for?”

“Nyota—” Jim tries.

“Don’t,” she says, a tremble in her voice. Jim’s heart, already mortally wounded, rents further. “Spock, please. If you’re having any second thoughts, then it’s okay. You don’t have to go. Please —”

Jim shakes his head. “He’s not having second thoughts.”

“Then what the hell is he waiting for?! As if the last month hasn’t been bad enough, watching him slip away from all of us. And you —”

“Lieutenant Commander,” Jim says calmly to Nyota. “Do you hear The Ghost?”

Nyota startles at the seemingly abrupt change of course.

“No. I— No, Captain.”

“That’s what he’s waiting for.”

Before Nyota can demand the answers she rightfully deserves, Jim flips open his comm and calls the techs back into the room.

The bitter part of him — the undisciplined part of him — revels in the pervasive hush that falls over the room when the techs take up their position. Knowing that Spock hasn’t beamed out yet because he’s waiting for their spectral frenemy to appear and validate his choices.

To absolve him.

Yes, Jim’s always known that this run would come to an end. That the Enterprise couldn’t stay out in deep space forever. He’s always known that the end of their second five-year mission would mean a refit of the “Fleet flagship, a slew of promotions, and an unknown future. But that unknown future didn’t scare him; he’d have Spock at his side.

Spock. His first officer and friend. His closest confidant and his brother in arms. His husband, his telsu. His t’hyla.

“Coordinates confirmed?” he asks the techs.

“Confirmed, Captain.”

Spock’s icy, empty stare finally slides to Jim, fingers splayed in the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Captain.”

Internally Jim’s screaming FUCK YOU over and over again at the top of his lungs, but if there’s one thing he’s learned in the last twelve years as a Starfleet captain it’s restraint.

He lifts a ta’al and says, “Peace and long life, Commander.”

The transporter whirls.

The Ghost remains silent.

Jim’s life as he’s known it for the last twelve years ends.

[orokinarchives]

Onkko Dialogue

Quill Onkko Primary is an enigmatic figure who can be found in Cetus, though not right away – the Tenno must finish both Saya's Vigil and the War Within to meet him. He is so far the only representative of the Quills to make direct contact with the Tenno, and his dialogue provides much of our insight into that faction and the Unum they serve. Most of his lines are heard when interacting with him in Cetus, though he also gives advice to Tenno who venture out on the Eidolon Plains at night.

​Initial cutscene

Onkko's hut in Cetus can only be entered in Operator mode, which is only available to the Tenno after the War Within quest has been completed. The first time the Tenno enters the hut and approaches Onkko's table at the back, Onkko will rise from his idle position leaning against the wall, and approach the table with his hands on his hips, at which point a short cutscene will trigger.

[Onkko bends down to retrieve from under the table a coffer, similar to the one uncovered in Saya's Vigil. He hefts it onto the table, rotates it to face the Tenno, and pushes it towards them. With his right hand, he unlocks it, and it opens to reveal a device, pink and beige, reminiscent of Sentient architecture – an amp.]

Onkko: "From memories of a past that has yet to be, the Unum knows you as a terror to the Eidolons. This has been waiting for you, to deliver upon them a terrible ruin."

[The Tenno approaches the table and reaches into the coffer with their right hand, and the amp attaches to their wrist. When they take their hand out to examine the amp, it glows briefly with Void energy. The Tenno flicks their wrist to set the amp in firing configuration, then flicks it back. Satisfied, they look back at Onkko.]

Onkko: "We have had and shall have a long association, Tenno. Ha, I know our conversations well. Sho-lah."

If the Tenno begins interaction with Onkko immediately after this cutscene, his usual greeting line will be replaced with an introductory one:

Onkko: "I am Quill Onkko Primary. We have and shall have a long association, Tenno. I know this conversation well."

Syndicate information

As the only (living) Quill we have thus far seen, Onkko represents the Syndicate in its dealings with the Tenno. The Quills are described thusly:

A secretive order, loyal to the mysterious and reclusive 'Unum'. Some say their relationship to cause and effect is unnatural, their knowledge profane. When a Quill acts, things change.

The Quills provide the Tenno with Amp parts, Magus and Virtuos arcanes, and the Ceno and Vahd Operator armour sets – all as blueprints that must be crafted in the Foundry. They also offer individual Cetus wisps, various decoration items, a Captura scene, and a reusable blueprint for converting Intact Sentient cores to Exceptional Sentient cores. The Syndicate ranks, from least to most favoured, are:

Neutral: [no description]

Mote: The Quills are aware of you. Speak with Quill Onkko to learn how to increase your Standing with them.

Observer: The Quills reserve some attention for you. They appear willing to involve you in their mysterious efforts.

Adherent: The Quills consider you a useful resource. They will sell you goods not offered to strangers.

Instrument: After much labour, the Quills take you into their confidence. You are a trusted ally.

Architect: You are a key operative, vital to their efforts, and have access to the Quills' most sought-after wares.

Unlike the faction Syndicates, Standing with the Quills is earned by giving them Sentient cores of various grades.

Idle quotes

Onkko mumbles a variety of lines to himself that can be heard when standing near him but not interacting with him. These lines are not subtitled, so the exact words may not be exact, and spelling is an approximation.

"Actor zhwong-sahd-point-half-hesh travelling on foot. Impending mishap on Forward Complex Node half-sahd-point-sahd-sahd. Observe and report consequences to multiple actors at site, via Quill Non Eran Secondary-sahd, via Quill Vata Khupa Tertiary-hesh."

"Mercury, Pantheon. Actor zhwong-half-point-hesh-zhwong, impending intersection with Actor half-seer-point-sahd. Outcome unclear. Quill Oben Nuwar Primary, observe and relay."

"Venus, Tessera. Actor zhe-seer-point-now will combine with Complex Node at zwhong-point-zhul. Notify Quill Veder Soon Tertiary-zhwong, via Quill Montan Secondary, via Quill Onkko Primary. Risk of uncontrolled consequence propagation. Observe and contain."

Greeting the Tenno

"We watch, we anticipate, we intercede."

"What things are and what they should be are indivisible."

"We are each one viewpoint in the myriad that comprises the Unum."

"You will make the necessary sacrifice. Inevitably."

"Eidolon seer-zhwong intercepted at Isolate Node sahd by Tenno sahd-pahk. But first: interaction."

(if the Tenno is rank Adherent or higher) "We shall make use of you."

(if the Tenno is rank Adherent or higher) "You were anticipated. Our interaction begins."

(if the Tenno is rank Adherent or higher) "Consequence to consequence brings you to me."

(if the Tenno is rank Adherent or higher) "You are an instrument most perfect, Tenno. Tuned to the pitch of the Unum."

(if the Tenno is rank Adherent or higher) "We are bound, family to family, clade to clade, as children of the all-seeing Unum."

Amp assembly

(if the Tenno has no Amp components) "Every choice closes off an infinite number of possible futures. The Amp you craft, then, is unique in all the multiverse. Where you end and it begins… an unanswerable question. Research. Craft. Assemble. Strive to answer the unanswerable."

"Here we create the instrument with which you might co-author the future. The Amp, Tenno, will magnify your power and your will."

"The Amp is an extension of your will. No part of it may be chosen lightly."

"The Amp – your primary tool in control and defeat of the Eidolons. The stylus with which you will inscribe your name in the pages of future history."

Forging the Amp

"The choice is made. We are here."

"The sum of consequence to consequence resolves here, in this extension of your will."

"You end here, at this choice: the inception point of who you will become. Behold the product of that becoming!"

Browsing offerings

"We are prepared to provide."

"These will assist."

"Allow us to improve your efficiency."

Purchasing an item

"A wise choice."

"That will prove beneficial. For you, and for us."

"Well chosen."

Exiting offerings without purchase

"Was it ever thus?"

"In time."

Exiting offerings after purchase

"So it is."

"It is done."

Exchanging Sentient cores for Quills Standing

"Yes. Commit."

"Is it time?"

"Allow us to improve your efficiency."

Other services

"Closeness or nearness? Push or pull? Hold or release? Which will it be?"

"Which string will you pluck? Which note will you sound? Play well, and the universe dances."

"Which of us will give, Tenno? And which of us will take?"

Gilding an Amp

"This has served you well. Cement that bond."

"A bold reaching towards consequence. How shall this be remembered?"

"Infinite possibilities fall away as this declaration codifies itself into a single, clear path. Name it."

(if the Tenno attempts to gild an Amp that is not Rank 30) "No effect without a cause. No reward without an earning. No name without a legacy. Return once the Amp has proven itself."

Donating an Amp

"This has served you well. Has that time passed? Released, it may yet serve a greater plan."

"You release, it falls. To create one last outward-spreading cascade. Causality awaits your decision. This Amp may arm another."

"Some paths end. Others circle back on themselves. Release this Amp, that it might serve another."

(if the Tenno attempts to donate an Amp that is not Rank 30) "Drop a stone, a ripple. Drop a grain, nothing of consequence. Come to me with stones, Tenno, instruments of tested power, and I will accept."

Confirming an Amp donation

"Gratefully received back into the Weave."

"It is done."

"Do you feel that? Consequence brushing consequence. Already, the future shifts her expression."

Entitling an Amp

"It is time. Utter the name."

"The past is dead. Name the future."

"With a name, emerge."

Confirming an Amp entitlement

"Yes, the name I have always known."

"It could never have any other."

"And so, it begins."

Skipping the naming of an Amp

"As it has always been."

"A name whispered by the universe itself."

"As a note of music, carried from a distant room."

Onkko?

"Saya… if he— if Onkko— if I could have shown her how catalogues of possible futures found out from the moment I could choose— could have chosen, to stay, none of them end— ended well. None, save one: this one. The one where I left. [sigh] This future ends so well for her, for Konzu, for Cetus. As eviscerating a choice as it was, it was the only one I could live with. Some day, I swear, this is— but— this was… this will be borne out. Speak of this no more. To be crushed by the singular excruciates. [sigh] What's done is done. Enough."

If the Tenno idles during conversation

"Time is relative. Choose when ready."

"I see permutations tumbling, resolving behind your eyes, beneath your skin. Exquisite!"

"Once, long ago, I would look backwards, feeling for the fading tendrils of our might-have-beens. But those avenues are closed now, too far gone. Instead, I comfort myself with the music of the universe and the sense of her close by. Her choices brush against me, like the arm of a passing stranger, and I am… happy."

Bidding farewell

"Tenno separating from Simple Nexus at Quill Onkko Primary."

"Ah, the history you will have."

Teralyst hunting on the Plains

Onkko will also speak to the Tenno when they are wandering the Plains of Eidolon at night, giving them tips on fighting Eidolons.

(when a Teralyst spawns) "And now, a massive Sentient energy spike in your area. I advise you to be careful."

(upon approaching an Eidolon Lure) "Those devices draw energy from Vomvalysts. Make use of them."

(upon disabling an Eidolon Lure) "Next, you attempt to take control of it."

(if the Tenno attacks the Teralyst with their weapons) "Your weapons have no effect on its shields. Try something else."

(after the Tenno destroys a synovium) "Energy spike! I advise falling back."

(if the Eidolon teleports away due to the Tenno destroying a synovium without an Eidolon Lure linked) "The Teralyst retreats, but remains nearby close by, wary of you."

(if the Tenno destroys a synovium while only one Eidolon Lure is linked) "That device is insufficient. You are directed to secure and deploy additional Eidolon lures."

(after the Tenno destroys the last synovium with the proper number of Eidolon Lures linked) "Sentient energy contained. You are closing on victory. Act now!"

(after all synovia are destroyed and the Eidolon summons Vomvalysts to heal itself) "Smaller Sentients rush to the Sentient's aid, healing it. Stop them!"

(when dawn approaches) "Sunrise nears. Sentient retreats. Strike now, for in moments, the future decides itself!"

Onkko is discussed by Saya and Konzu in the quest Saya's Vigil, and his voice (from before he joined the Quills) can also be heard in the hidden lore fragments unlocked by scanning the glass shards in Saya's Vigil and the Thousand-Year Fish statuettes scattered across the Plains.

[Navigation: Hub → Dialogue → Onkko]

[diamondsaregold]

Zig x MC - A Playlist

Background Info: In the spirit of slowly returning to sharing things with the world, I thought I’d post the playlist that I’ve spent approximately one month procrastinating on diligently working on. 

Started as a 30 song playlist, and cut down to 8 tracks. All the highs and lows of our entire The Freshman Book 3 relationship with Zig, with lots of angst and introspection. Some songs pertain to Zig x MC; others to each individual character.

Photos taken from Pexels, and edited by me in Photoshop. Hope you enjoy listening! 💕 Click on each song title for the link. I highly recommend listening to each song while looking at the visuals, lyrics, and analysis. 😉

1) “Heart Out” The 1975   An upbeat, atmospheric alt rock anthem to teenage love, personal issues, and monotony.

And once we started having friends round You created a television of your mouth ----- You got something to say Why don’t you speak it aloud, instead of living in your head? It’s always the same Why don’t you take your heart out, instead of living in your head? ----- It’s just you and I tonight Why don’t you figure your heart out?

We are reeling from suitemate drama and uncertainty when we stumble upon the enigmatic barista at the Hartfeld coffee shop. He shoots us knowing smirks, flirtatious remarks, and oh, it is working. The curve of his half smile, the curl of his deep hair, the heat of his toffee-warm skin washes over us. Risk is nothing when there’s endless possibilities in his gaze.

The start of the quarter is the perfect time to step away from the televisions (or books) inside our minds and take risks, to ground ourselves in new realities. Zig is something new, and very real.

2) “Smoke Filled Room” Mako A tropical, uplifting EDM track about the unstoppable girl who walks into chaos with her chin held high.

Isn’t it a little late? Shouldn’t you fly away? ----- Take a step around the room And every head keeps turning too Little dove, you fight ‘em back Show ‘em you’re so much more than that ----- Walk into a smoke filled room. Oh no one could keep their eyes off you. Have a little drink or two Oh how could you be that girl I knew?

Soaring vocals brim with adrenaline, courage, and tenderness. That night, we head out into a strange world of dusky romances and dangerous people. Yet somehow, we always prove our past selves wrong.

Fragile. We walk into the Gutter Kitten’s crowded show only to be met with icy stares (and ice queens). We stand our ground, telling off the rude band members and turning up the charm to an 11 with our coffeeshop cutie. We fight ‘em all back.

Magnetic. In our “little black dress” at Madison’s birthday party, Zig is transfixed. He craves complexity, the satisfaction of stripping apart a problem layer by layer. Our fire, our loyalty, our three dimensionality captivates this lover of permutations, logic. In the smoky magic of our late night bar escapade, he takes us apart. Slowly. Tenderly.

3) “Livewire” Oh Wonder A poignant, sparse piano and beat-driven ballad, contemplating two individuals who have become intertwined.

Counting my losses as I let them go. Heavy the water as I sink below. ----- I’ve been pretending all my shots are blown. Cover my heart up, never let it show. I’m shaking it off to find a higher low. ----- So hold me when I fall away from the lines. When I’m losing it all, when I’m wasting the light. And hold me when I put my heart in your hands. ----- Oh, won’t you be my livewire? Make me feel like I’m set on fire.

Covering up hearts, igniting fires, and letting walls down: how fitting that the themes here tie in with those of the other songs. As the relentless yearning to explore one another in dimly lit rooms and memorize each other’s complexities simmers down, our relationship spins into something deeper.

Grazing touches and gentle murmurs become even more fleeting, soft. When we hold each other tightly, slight frame on top of strong, sturdy, in the backseat of his old car, we realize that somehow within the span of weeks, we’ve become inseparable. 

His confessions topple our own walls. As the night goes on, we mold ourselves into each other. Our dependence on one another is intoxicating.

4) “Breaking the Habit” Linkin Park A hypnotic, downtempo rock song that depicts the gritty reality of addiction, dangerous habits, and resentment.

Memories consume Like opening the wound I’m picking me apart again ----- Clutching my cure I tightly lock the door I try to catch my breath again ----- I’ll paint it on the walls Cause I’m the one at fault ----- I don’t know what’s worth fighting for So, I’m breaking the habit tonight

Things begin to spin out of control. One moment, he’s brittle, too quick to snap, to accuse others of false play, to push them away. In a split second, he’s soft again, murmuring gentle reassurances and apologies. We cannot understand his volatility. Fresh from the burn of an unfair, one-sided fight, we crack under the pressure. Everything gushes out.

The last thing we see is his back, taut with hard-earned, unwanted strength, tense with years of the strain of helplessness as his loved ones are damaged permanently. He has been cornered for so much of his life that running is a luxury. For him, the anger gnaws and carves away at his insides. All his adrenaline, his sadness, his quick temper feeds the addictive kick. He knows no existence without it. For us, everything dries up. What hurts more, his leaving, or the ease, the relief, with which he leaves? We sink into the deep, because we don’t know if he’ll be coming back. If he even wants to.

What we don’t know if that he’s the one tearing himself apart again.

5) “Nothing” The Script A stricken, pop rock ballad lamenting a damaged relationship and one man’s anguish.

Oh, sometimes love’s intoxicating. Oh, you’re coming down, your hands are shaking. When you realize there’s no one waiting. ----- Cause I’m shouting your name all over town. I’m swearing if I go there now. I could change her mind turn it all around. ----- So I, dialed her number and confessed to her I’m still in love, but all I heard Was nothing. ----- I wanted words, but all I heard was nothing.

We did not get the chance to see Zig’s perspective after MC leaves for California. For me, this song fills in the blank spaces. I wonder what emotions must have been running through his mind. Resentment? Regret? I imagine him playing the fight over and over again, and beating himself up for lashing out.

We know that whatever he felt, it was strong enough to compel him to dial MC’s number--and, to be completely crushed when she ignored his call. It was the final straw: the confirmation that MC did not care about him. Her silence hurt infinitely more than a punch in the face. And so, the walls go up. He hunkers himself down behind defensiveness once again.

But to finally find someone who loved him for who he was, and to lose her in an instant, stings. He knows that things could have gone differently.

6) “Poison” luhx. A stirring, indie and electronica track about apprehension, toxic relationships and choices, and the road to self-forgiveness.

I’ve been on either side of letting someone down and I don’t know which one is worse ----- Your toxin takes its time to settle in When you said how much my skin reminded of home Time seemed to numb my sins ----- I laid down all my walls so you could lay here next to me I know now... ----- Too much of anything is poison And it’s laced upon your lips But the cure is in the venom, so I keep on coming back My soul is stained with your poison

Admittedly, this toxic relationship is a bit too dark for our reunion. Yet, there is something promising about the song’s raw honesty.  It speaks of newfound wisdom, awareness, all qualities that make for a future of healing. “Poison” then captures Zig’s relationship with his past, his demons, and his journey to self acceptance.

Anger was Zig’s poison. It gave him what justification he needed to hate the world that dealt him this hand, to fight back against bullies, to have tasted and now expect rejection, and to avoid disappointment by putting up barriers around all of his relationships. In time, his numbness to his own aspirations became part of him.

Too much anger, however, and everything crashed. Inside, all he wanted was to be free. To believe in himself and his dreams once again. When he first met us in the coffee shop, he caught a glimpse of that brimming courage he once had, many years ago.

He fears that he is broken beyond repair. Perhaps this anger is now laced within his veins, toxic vines twisting around his heart, skin stained with bitter rejection.

There is beauty in his fear and newfound awareness. We are hopeful.

7) “Love Somebody” Ta-Ku ft. Wafia An evocative, soulful indie-edm ballad and duet whose lyrics speak of a relationship on the mend.

Darling understand, my faith wavers when I can’t see the end And I know you truly believe that our love will keep us from the edge ----- I know we’ll never get it right We only ever seem to fight Anyone else would walk away When you love somebody then you stay

The end-of-the-quarter dance dazzles with the promise of new beginnings. To our joy, Zig is about to embark on his college journey! And, amid blushing and stammering confessions, he’ll do so with us--his favorite girl--by his side.

Under the blossoms of the fairy light-strung cherry trees, we twirl about on the dance floor, hearts light and gazes warm. He can’t stop staring at us, but this time, he knows that we’re his. And he, ours.

The future can come with all that it brings. As his hands make their home on our waist, we are content to press our face into his broad shoulder and just breathe. His hope is sweet as the air.

8) “Arrest Me” Shy Girls ft. Tei Shi A sultry, electronica ode to the battle for dominance and waves of pleasure.

You got me tripping on my walk like I’m a novice. Something about you on the top, if I’m honest Running in circles around me, cuz you know I love it ----- I’m gonna let you tie me up tonight And you can read my rights, if that’s alright I’ll loosen up your ropes and let you bite I wanna feel your touch ----- Arrest me

Surrendering and asserting have never tasted so perfectly together. Zig makes us crave something deeper, and we can’t control the hitch of our breath when he crumbles under our touch. How is it that we render him speechless anywhere we end up? There is heat everywhere. His gaze smolders, sends one quake after another shuddering through our pinned frame. 

After, we lay together, nestled together among the bedsheets, his arm still draped over us. His hands feel rough, but his caresses gentle. As much as we love the storm, we relish the calm. The steady rising of his chest, his soft snore, almost childlike, as we drift away.

Whenever I make playlists for characters or stories, I always try to base the songs off of the feeling, rather than the actual lyrics. “Smoke Filled Room” and “Poison” felt the most ‘Zig’ to me; “Heart Out”  the least. Regardless, I hope you liked my rambling musics and sound bites! Now back to my exam preparation... 😭

[ecotone99]

[SF] Outside

It was a roll of the dice that changed the world, heralding the end of what we'd lovingly call the Last Great Era. As far as our best minds can tell, had the genetic sequence finished A-G-T instead of G-A-T then SARS-CoV-2, the Coronavirus -- covy to the likes of you and me -- would have gone down in the history books as nothing more than an unexplained and short-lived lethargy observed in populations of domesticated pig.

From where I'm sat on my formafoam couch, staring blankly at a wall-filling Standard Display that's doing it's best to convince me I'm in the Austrian Alps, it's pretty clear that at some point, one-hundred and fifty-six years ago, God decided to try his hand at playing dice.

My job feed terminal chimes a flutter of cheerful bells that have no doubt been crafted to coax a dopamine response from whoever hears it. The irony isn’t lost on me as I drag its screen towards me, the articulating tube that it’s mounted to squeaking in a way that sets my teeth on edge. The chimes are somewhat discordant with the work that’s on offer. Data cleaning. Three petabytes; immediate start.

It’s the kind of grunt work I’ve come to expect and I’m used to it now. I figure it’s pretty much what the old sanitation workers used to do back in the Great. Y’know, those guys and girls who cleaned the streets. But instead of cleaning up after someone who couldn’t be bothered to find an appropriate refuse point, I’m cleaning up after a group of Domain dev-heads who couldn’t be bothered to dee-com their redundant broadcast nodes.

I know what it’s going to be: four hours of gloves-on, elbow-deep groping through the Domain’s equivalent of a corporation's asshole. If I’m lucky, I’ll spot the nodes that are tainting the rest of the data and filter them out with one or two partial intelligences I’ve got hanging around that just love this kinda work.

I reach over to the job terminal keyboard, worn predictably blank by too many keystrokes and even more routine. I click accept.

Did they know? Back in the Great? When this all started? I’ve watched pretty much everything the 21st century had to offer. News bulletins, parliamentary debates, documentaries, exposé’s, talk shows, comedies. You name it. Hell, I even watched a bunch of Domain advertisements to try and gauge sentiment. I’ve run them through every iteration and permutation of socioeconomic simulation I can imagine. I even managed to call, well, trade in a favour and run my sims on the tertiary adjunct to my local unimatrix. That's big boy's toys. Cost me almost eight minutes to tell me what I already knew.

But did they know it would lead to this? The real people of the time. It’s a splinter. A piece of grit under the skin, whatever that feels like. No matter how many times I run the sims, no matter how many trillion facets of life I emulate; no matter how mundanely accurate I try to model things, they will always be just that. Models. Simulations. Eerily accurate approximations of what went before, but approximations nonetheless. I’ll never, truly know what it felt like to be there. To feel the tug of history all around you. Feel the weight of the machine of State grind its massive gears whilst being helpless to resist. The fear. The hope. The isolation.

The Outside.

That infinite blue sky. The endless chatter of birds. The smell of so much green. It’s a drug. One that we can’t live without; one that we can’t live within. When covy hit, the industrialised world was slow to respond. But eventually reality won out around the globe, and even the most orange-faced effluent-geysers couldn’t pass off the rising body count as ‘fake news’. So we went indoors. And there we stayed for what must have seemed like an eternity at the time but was, in retrospect, a three month weekend compared to what came next.

Well, if I was being accurate I’d say ‘what three things came next’. And since I’ve got enough EdMerits to make me a social scientist, and the fact I spend most of my life in a windowless box with roughly 50 square metres of floor space, I’m going to be accurate. Humour my inner, failed, academic if you will:

Firstly, and best I can tell, the people’s imagination was captured when an innocent post from an emissions monitoring company posted about how much the air pollution had dropped over mainland China since their lockdown. I mean, it's fine now, but back then the state of the environment had people worried. I guess this is the part where some commentators call it things like zeitgeist.

Second thing was the Great Ingress of 2020 and the subsequent transformation of all commercial activities to Domain-compatible. Everything went digital after covy, fuelled by the primitive proxies for presence that folk back then put up with; flat, low quality streams and pathetic audio. Apparently all we needed to do was see a smile and that made the world feel just right.

And finally covy’s mutation, bifurcation and subsequent mutations. This was the kicker. With the combined brainpower and focus of the entire freaking planet, we were churning out vaccines and antigens faster than ever before and solving a whole bunch of other, minor problems along the way. Like Ebola, HIV and even the common cold all fell to the medical onslaught. But covy? Nah. Every time we knocked her down three more of her would get up and start swinging back.

My terminal gives me another hope-filled chime, breaking my brood to tell me I’m halfway through my job download and I’ll be able to start working in ‘less than five minutes’. Another irony that’s not lost on me. Time is what I’m working for. One of the more subtle changes that worked their way in since the Great. I’ve read a bunch of lit’ from back then, too. Time is money they used to say. But they got the emphasis wrong. Time is money. It’s the ultimate currency and the cheapest commodity; everybody’s got some to give. Over the years it surpassed every other natural or manufactured resource to become the lifeblood of our metastasized economic system. But I, and a couple billion others spend our time gladly to get some outside.

Outside.

They took it for granted back then. Couldn’t they see? The gradual restrictions in movement. Why didn't they resist? The control over who you can meet. They could have stopped this. Forcing you to communicate digitally. Reducing the places you can go to. Controlling what you can buy and how much. Even taking on the job of paying you for your work. It was the largest coordinated peacetime high jacking of a civilization in history. But they did it with some serious freaking deftness. I’m talking a subtlety of manoeuvring that’d make an Icer weep. And those guys don’t make face salt easy. I mean the sharing of resources is one thing. Yeah, we’re all people under one banner and that kind of crap. International cooperation must have been a huge morale boost to the cats getting used to their cages. And when the third strain came out and we gladly, globally signed off on consolidating national powers, oversight and coordination to an international body, well the United Nations would have looked like the perfect fit.

Desperate times, I guess. And no one back then could have seen the fifty years of misdirection and positioning that had taken place, infiltrating what should have been the highest, most benevolent authority we had. So we handed them the keys and a full tank of gas. And a century and a half later, I’m sitting here in a thermosteel block called 'home' a mile off the ground with around twenty thousand other gen-pops trying to scratch out a living for… For what? A slightly larger box near the ground floor, where you get real outside breeze? Maybe I’ll get a Workers Union promotion and move to a whole new tower, even. Or stay here and save some more. What was it they used to say? ‘Do some travelling’. Ha!

I bring up the job details, my fingers navigating the screen subconsciously. I select the title and expand the details. Data cleaning required for three petabyte facility management control system. Blah. Alphabet Enterprises. has a fantastic opportunity. Blah; everything’s AE in this part of the world. I keep scrolling, listening to the emulated ambience of the alpine sublime about me, my eyes absently searching for the paragraph I’m looking for.

Remuneration: 00:18:00

Eighteen minutes. Of pure outside. To spend how I like. And I can take it in advance. If I add that to the two hours thirty I’ve tucked away over the past couple of months then I may just have enough...

I switch my attention from the terminal to the Standard Display. It senses my intent and brings up a chat box with my most recently contacted first. I scroll down a little past the recent work-related calls I’ve had to make until I see a name and user id that’s almost as familiar as seeing a face. Nervous, I open a line, speaking to the room and letting the chat intelligence do the whole talk-to-type thing; speaking and writing are different things, and will always be it seems. I sound like me, but it’s not how I speak.

Things have changed. Just got some time. Let's go for a walk. Now.

I send the message. It’s abrupt, I know. But real walks are. And I don’t have a huge amount of time to play with. I know I’m gonna have to split the time between the two of us if I’m to even have a chance of executing my plan. But that’s why I saved. That’s why I spent all these months wallowing in the crud. All for this. Now is the time.

Before I let my doubts get the best of me, I look down at the antique, silver-and-diamond ring nestled in the cushion of an old, threadbare velvet case. Allowing myself a rare smile of something that feels more genuine and real and meaningful than anything in this world, I send a follow-up:

Don’t worry, babe. The walk’s on me.

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