Under the cold, dim light of the testing ground, Nirvatia gently touches your cheek, her eyes crinkling slightly.
I'm fine, just a little tired. I'm leaning on you for a quick "recharge."
The female Construct scans the room, her lips pressed together.
Decommissioned mechanoids still spark occasionally, while dust has collected on the workbench where she once worked. Silence envelopes everything, broken only by the hum of her frame's operation and the soft rhythm of your breathing.
Let's watch it here.
Her final words deserve to be spoken in the place where she poured her heart and soul.
She opens the terminal and presses play.
A holographic image materializes, showing the petite researcher, gazing from across the River Styx years after her death.
The timestamp... doesn't matter anymore. If this message is unlocked, it means my legacy has reached the right hands, regardless of when.
Well done, Nirvatia. You too, Nirvatia's companion.
You see the same astonishment on Nirvatia's face as yours. The woman in the recording finishes speaking, offering only the slightest hint of a smile.
It's not hard to guess your expressions. After all, I hid the clues in a poem that could only be deciphered by working with someone else.
I didn't do this solely for encryption purposes, but also because of... a childhood passion I finally remembered.
In an ancient culture, the words for "poet" and "maker" were one and the same. Forget those stereotypes about scientific researchers.
Nirvatia lets out a soft chuckle beside you, her eyes meeting yours with a warm glow of understanding.
She was always...
In the recording, Lenore takes a deep breath, her expression growing complex.
What I'm about to say should have been said to you in person, but I could never bring myself to speak the words.
I bear you no resentment, Nirvatia. You were always forthright with me, whether through dissuasion or warning, fulfilling both your professional duty and personal obligation as a fellow researcher.
In the end, I only blame myself for going too far down these so-called "shortcuts."
When time was pressing, I'd skip some tests, since the performance discrepancies wouldn't be noticeable in the field. When funds were tight, I'd divert substandard materials, since no one would investigate if accidents remained contained...
To keep going, I told so many lies that sometimes I started believing them myself. Then, an outsider, someone who had supposedly made grave mistakes herself, burst into my life and questioned everything down to its core.
What mistake did you really make? You simply asked "why." Since when did that become a crime?
She shakes her head.
Sometimes, watching you, I'd feel a twisted kind of envy. I was jealous that you could pursue something with such burning conviction, as if you had nothing to lose and all bridges behind you already burned.
But now that I've reached this point myself, what I feel isn't relief, but regret.
Unrealized ideas, words left unsaid, hands I never dared to extend...
Is this the burden you've been carrying all along, Nirvatia?
Nirvatia stares at the projection in stunned silence. The hologram is just a monologue... it can never hear her answer.
The pursuit of truth... it's like walking a long road through a rainy night. Even fellow travelers may not have the fortune to walk side by side.
Either way, I must set forth on this path.
But you, little birdie who guided me back... You and the companion you've chosen deserve all that fortune.
If it still holds any meaning for you, please accept this complete poem as my parting wish.
The projection wavers and begins to fade. In the silence, you feel a warmth slip between your fingers as Nirvatia reaches out and gently presses her fingertips against yours. Her crimson eyes glisten in the dim light.
When the rains of this world pour down upon you, don't sing your lament alone, blackbird.
I gift you my tears-forged arrows, awaiting the verdict of your heart.
When the sea of tears hangs suspended, piercing through the leaden dome above...
Light and shadow will interweave, as you and I finally walk as companions.
The syllables dissipate into the air as the departed returns to eternal silence.
Nirvatia clutches the darkened terminal, completely motionless.
At your gentle call, she turns around slowly and almost imperceptibly, taking a single step forward before quietly lowering and resting her head on your shoulder.
Time seems to lose its cadence, and the world beyond fades from sight and sound. All that remains is the Construct in your arms, who, for this moment, has lowered all her defenses.
Little raven, being able to hold your hand in front of that research facility...
It was the best, most worthwhile thing I had encountered in my journey.
The mourning is silent yet solemn. After what feels like an eternity, the Construct lowers her head and raises her hand to brush away the hint of tears at the corner of her eye.
Thank you, little raven. This was... a proper way to bid her farewell.
