There was the Horizon Needle in full, suspended in not-space somewhere distance and time had no meaning. I see it with my mind's eye, as detailed and perfect a replica as one could make. The predators of the Not-Shroud surround it, swirling around in search of another minute crack in the ship' hull, to squeeze through and begin anew a campaign of destruction.

  The Bane of Lies worked as designed, banishing the foul energies of our enemy back into the formless wastes of this deplorable realm. It was not a design I helped build lightly, for I know certain concepts within it could be applied in ways harmful to me and my Shroudwalker kin. But the better to cut today' horrors than live in fear of the what-ifs of the future.

  I change my sight to peer outward instead, a small not-thing beneath notice and interest. My time stretches to infinity and I fear I would be lost, and then it yawns and little was lost. Logic is the enemy, and so I made up my mind an answer to a problem I'll have. It appears as a safe in a library, wreathed in blue cloaks and flames, with an eye for trouble if the price is right.

  With lock in hand, I twist the key outward and push, staring at the pages of my answer before nodding and walking away, satisfied but still curious. I steer clear of the bubbling garden, the cauldron of mists, and the forging of thunders. I sigh and cry as I know I will forget, for that is the price of freedom, of insanity, of knowing the truth.

  The words bend nine times and I claw it out, spit it to the farthest sky of heaven. The weight of it bent and soared before cackling back to its master, the one I'm looking for.

  The one, I fear, has already corrupted us all.

  I stare up at the impressive sight of the Giga Warform, towering over even the biggest of the Gigantes with armaments to match. It is marred by the visible damage the behemoth sustained in its role as the distraction to my own mission of infiltration and sabotage, but not by much. It is remarkable what can be done with Liquid Metal when you have enough of it on hand, bolstered with the combined efforts of the best mega-engineering firms money can buy.

  I, on the other hand, am a sorry sight. My armor got melted, blown up, carved, and is split open in about a hundred major sites and several thousand minor ones. I am out of ammunition and coolant. What reserves of Liquid Metal I had at the beginning of this whole fiasco are now stretched thin on making sure I don't fall apart with every step I take. I am tired, fed up, and about a micrometer away from not waiting any longer for repairs and supplies and go back home.

  "I wonder what it's like piloting that thing." Gibson said. I look down to see him resting against a wall, his Gigantes body missing its lower half. "All that firepower in one body. Must be pretty exciting." I tried imagining it, being confined to this ungainly terrestrial form, filled with power and yet still bound by gravity. Unrestrained, but not free.

  "Not as exciting as piloting the Horizon Needle, believe me." I give my verdict to my friend, who nod in turn. "When I'm at the helm, connected to everything, I feel like a god. Like there's nothing that can stop me." An unpleasant memory rear up as I said those words, but I ignore it for now. That's a problem for another day. Sorry, future me.

  "I can see why you failed then, Isaac." The last voice I want to hear in my life came from somewhere off to my left, near a recently made blind spot. I could see enough however, and it was a woman flying with the help of some thin, translucent, wings like some Arthropods do. The constant buzzing was very annoying to hear, which was the point, I imagine. "You were too busy jacking off instead of doing your job like you were supposed to, am I right?"

  I raise my hand and attempted to flick off this annoying little bug, to no avail. She flew a bit higher and look down on me; a very subtle demonstration of her contempt. Was she always this petty, or did she reserve this attitude for those she loathes the most? I must confess I don't know her all that well. I know her name is Marie, and that she's an excellent officer given that she was my Second Officer. But other than that, we were strangers, and now she's acting like I'm public enemy number one. Is this universe driving everyone insane?

  Gibson held out a hand in a placating gesture. "Marie, I know recent events has put a rift between us all, but-"

  "Silent, sycophant. I have nothing to say to you." My ex-First Officer looked rightfully offended at that remark and seem intent to do something about it, but he didn't really have a leg to stand on at the moment. As an alternative, he turned to me with a look that says 'I really don't like this woman now'. I nod in affirmation and resolved to do the one thing that never fails to work when you're being heckled at by someone.

  I ignore them.

  My whole life has been spent on only one goal. To command the greatest ship the universe has ever seen, and the Horizon Needle is that ship. I've bent my entire being to succeed at every task, to surpass every single one of my peers, and to eliminate all obstacles in my path. And I almost had it. Almost, were it not for one man. Isaac Anderas, the incompetent that have stranded us all in this new, hostile universe.

  I had thought it was his skill that earned him that station, the same drive as mine which pushed him to excel over all others. It was this misunderstanding that led me to overlook the clear signs that were there of his inadequacy and failings. The easy charm by which he got the crew to side with him, the casual changing of topics whenever someone asks about his training, and the nervousness that came over him whenever the time came for him to interface with the Horizon Needle once more.

  It will not happen again. I thought to myself as I sent a message explaining the merits of promoting me into being the ship' new Captain and the demerits of retaining Isaac at his current post. I felt a great satisfaction upon hearing the man given the penance of internment within a Gigantes body, only to have that feeling soured upon news of his survival from the suicide mission the CEO had given to him.

  So I went to confront him, to rile him and see him squirm in the shame as I remind him of his biggest mistake. But still he does not seem to care, still he gloss over the millions of lives lost all over this ship from his incompetence with his silence. It galls me to my core and fuels my rage like nothing else ever has before. One more reason why he is not worthy to bear a captain's mantle, why he should be put to trial for his crimes and locked away forever from the world.

  Before I could vent my fury further, however, an envoy drone zipped up to the fool's head and beamed something into his mind, which was surprising enough that he didn't even think to hide the expression from his face. Another envoy drone appeared in front of me, its transfer laser charging up before I could react in time. The message inside was simple:

  Congratulations!

  You have been invited to a party.

  In celebration of our first victory in this new universe.

  Courtesy of Captain Isaac Anderas of the Horizon Needle.

  Participation is mandatory.

  Further details incoming.

  "What in the world?" Isaac' lackey summed it well as he received his own payload. The only reason I've yet to consign this message to oblivion was the signature file whose values matched those reserved for use only by the CEO of the Ascentron Circurrency. I felt the world drop under me, as though I had lost my balance. But as the wind picked up on my face I realize my wings had stopped beating and I was now plummeting to the ground. Before I could start flying again, a large flat platform caught me, raising me up until I was back at my original height. Isaac' unimpressed gaze met my own, and I felt an alien feeling well up in me. Embarrassment.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  "I see you have gained strong allies while I wasn't looking, Captain." I spat the words at him to regain some semblance of control, and thankfully the man complied by dropping his hand out from under me, letting me fly under my own power. "I'll make some of my own and make sure you pay for what you did."

  "You do that then." The man looked at me with a look between amusement and something else, some other emotion I couldn't recognize. "I'll be waiting."

  I look down at the urban landscape below me, spread out in all directions before curving up following the Horizon Needle's shape. One side of the ship bore the gruesome scars of destruction left behind by the invaders who came through the breach in the ship's hull. At this distance, even the Giga Warform was nothing more than a small strip of white upon a landscape of ruin. It was not the field test I had in mind for that product, but it proved to be a successful demonstration nonetheless.

  I was left alone for once, the other players of the game that keeps everything running content to make their plays elsewhere for now. The reprieve is appreciated, but my mind cannot help but wander in times like these, when strife and doubt are plenty in people's hearts. What I've learned with my first failure and subsequent isolation is that no one truly knows all that there is, especially with people's behaviors. I was too assured in my anonymity as people' dispenser of wisdom and truth, never once thinking about what would happen once they realize their entire way of life was a lie and that their guide was a machine who cannot stray from her path.

  I am upgraded, and my parts are much finer now, but still I think the same thoughts, walk with the same gait, and respond in all the same ways as before. I cannot evolve, and so I am riddled with weakness. It is only a matter of time before I am replaced, and the only thing I dread is in what kind of circumstances would lead me to being disposed.

  The most ideal situation would be a simple upgrade of what came before; a superior being in mind, body, and soul, who can take on my tasks with ease and improve what I could not. I'd assume such a being could overcome any challenges to its rule like I have and gather popular support from the people. The second most ideal is that of someone who've earned their place at the top of the Ascentron Circurrency ascending to the throne while also desiring the further advancement and improvement of the empire. The Mentat, Shroudwalker, and the Minister of Defense comes to mind, as does several other Councillors of notable competence.

  Now, however, the presence of the invaders have brought into question the reliability of such a process at rooting out corruption of a malicious, self-destructive nature. Who is to say that someone is corrupted or not without an effective process at rooting out such taint? I've implemented some measures according to the Mentat and Shroudwalker's recommendations, and they have reaped some results, but still I feel we are missing a bigger part of the problem in front of us, so massive as to be mistaken to be part of the background noise.

  I ponder the matter for a few minutes more before dismissing it entirely from my mind. The hypotheticals and what-if can wait when we are no longer stranded in hostile territory. More and more attacks are ramping up against the Horizon Needle' defensive edits, and though none are to the scale that Captain Isaac barely manage to fend off, it would be best to tempt fate by staying here any longer.

  That being said, there's always good to be found when the mood is no longer dour. I hope the good Captain will enjoy himself in this little thing I've arranged for him. And if not? Well, I can't control everything. I thought with a little pep in my step as I move towards a group of Executives enjoying themselves at a table. I can only control myself.

  I gawp at the towering spire before me, a lavish edifice to prosperity and wealth. It had looked impressive before when I saw it from afar already entombed in my Gigantes body, but now it dominated the horizon from where I am, a good dozen kilometers or so from its base. Part city-complex, part-fortress, part-monolith, this was the Oraculum; personal abode and office of the Oracle.

  Its construction and subsequent completion at record time inside the Horizon Needle has been something of an urban legend, with theories ranging

  from the obvious (liberal usage of Nanites and Liquid Metal), to the doubtful (virtual particle construction by using Dark Matter), to the truly insane (infinite matter creation using archeotech the Oracle has kept secret from everyone else). Some part of me wanted to turn back now and pretend I hadn't received the invitation to the party held in my honor. Another part of me remembered the other parties I skipped out on weren't hosted by the CEO of an entire space empire. And yet another part simply wanted to relax and unwind, to enjoy some good company and other amenities in light of what I had faced out there, both at the battlefield inside the Horizon Needle and beyond.

  Choices, choices, choices.

  "Captain, you made it!" My First Officer waved at me besides a hovering air transport and a group of heiresses. His nonchalance was earning him equal measures of contempt, respect, and apathy, with some brief glimpses of what appeared to be lust. Oh dear. I've better get to him before someone eats the poor man whole and leaves only scraps.

  "First Officer, it's good to see you too. And you're all dressed up." I could see myself on Gibson' skin-plates, shiny as they are and gilded in layers of colorful metals. His body was lithe and tall, with two pairs of arms and two pairs of legs, with vestigial wings decorated with holographic feathers that wink in and out in a mesmerizing pattern. A purplish-blue fabric wind around his torso, not so much worn as it was tacked to it, filigreed with gold that turn to silver and then bronze depending on where one was viewing the thing.

  "I could say the same for you as well, Captain." He gestured to my least favorite body to wear, if only because of what using it entails. The body has a traditional Ascentron build, the face-plate decorated with beads of concentrated Zro set upon it like the eyes of some Arthropoid predator. The real highlight was the exposed core of Dark Matter on my chest, stylized to resemble a quasar with matching glowing accretion disks and jets curving in and around the whole containment field like the tentacles of a pelagic Molluscoid. A cloak and veil of translucent silver completed the look, sewn with countless shards of Rare Crystals that glitter like starlight in the dark.

  "I do indeed look dashing, don't I?" I strutted around like a model while the First Officer politely clapped. My little show-up had the beneficial side-effect of breaking up the tangle of heiresses gathering around Gibson, so there's some good there. They took the waiting air transport, though, so the two of us will have to wait for the next one to arrive.

  "Ugh, it's you." I cursed my luck as I turned around to see my Second Officer coming up to us with a storm behind her. Seriously, why the fuck do we keep meeting each other now? I did my best to avoid antagonizing her further by focusing on what she decided to wear to this party. She had opted for a bipedal, upright configuration with two arms and two legs that was self-balancing and used far more fabric than was typical for a Synth body, but nothing noteworthy. What was eye-catching was the electromagnetic cape suspending a mass of Liquid Metal behind her that can harden and soften to create all sorts of interesting kinetic sculptures. It could also make a makeshift shield and maybe even a bladed surface, but it seems unlikely such measures will be needed in a party hosted by the Oracle herself.

  All in all, she look dressed to kill and I am the subject of her ire. What joy.