2044
A man with rough features and unkempt hair faced an android who looked like he could pass as a twelve year old boy—save for the shining turquoise his eyes glimmered against the red sunlight. His skin was smooth and what substituted for bones were much stronger than they appeared on the outset, although he preferred to avoid needing to use strength if he needed to.
LUCAS Gray—the Luxmund User Computer Algorithm Shifter—was an Artificial Intelligence that was fed the experience of his creator's experiences through a terrifying death game over the course of one hundred cycles—existences that kept repeating to gather enough energy possible for the Children of the Night's nefarious goals.
LUCAS held a hesitating stance against the scraggy man who regards him with a warm smile and a hearty laugh.
"Quick question, traveler," He began, regarding LUCAS with a smile. "Do you think I need a haircut? I haven't quite decided. Whenever I let it get this long I want to chop it all off sometimes, but I mean...whenever I actually do I always want to grow it right back out," he let out a half-sigh-half-chuckle kind of sound. He looked back up to LUCAS, now rubbing a hand through his dirty-blond hair. "It almost makes me want a drink."
"I wouldn't know where to find one," LUCAS said, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sorry…? I don't..."
He laughed again and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I wasn't asking you specifically. The intended recipient got the message."
LUCAS craned his neck in confusion.
"It's fine, hello! I'm sure you've got a story within you that would be of great interest."
"Who are you?"
"You can call me Gavin. I've been waiting for this meeting for quite some time."
"I assume you mean with me? How would you know? Are you like Sakonna?"
A flash of a smile, "There it is. The million dollar question. I'll answer your question with another question, do you know what this machine right here is?" He points toward...well, calling it a machine was probably the only thing LUCAS could call it. He didn't recognize the shape of it at all—it looked like an oblong diamond-shaped crystal jutting out of a mechanical base. On the base the name "ICARUS" is faded—clearly showing its age.
"Um, I'm not sure—"
"Sure you are...you just aren't thinking of the right context. You think differently than other people, don't you?"
The question took him off guard. It...was true. LUCAS didn't process information like normal people—he cross referenced information fed to him through his processors in his internal database that Abel had configured back in the Arctic Systems Laboratory over the past forty years.
"My knowledge on the term ICARUS doesn't really relate to whatever this thing can be—I'm not aware of any acronym that would fit that."
"Non-fictionally, maybe."
"What...do you mean...like from a book?"
"Just check it, would you? I'm sure your sensors weren't set to check fictional content because of the sheer volume that exists—but give it a second."
LUCAS began scanning his brain. He found a few stories that dealt with the original myth of Icarus, a few that tackled modern re-imaginings, but then—
"Infinity Core Amplifier for Research Under the Sun. Constructed by..."
"Go on. I won't be offended."
"...By Gavin Daniels in an alternate history where the world..."
Gavin stared at him as the information came piling in. "Where the world was ended..." He stared up at the man.
"Go ahead, follow it to its logical conclusion."
"This account was from a fictional book written...almost twenty years ago."
"Longer. It isn't from your time."
"Okay...longer. You—and by extension—this machine are fictional objects from...this book called Telos."
"Not just that one, but yes, that is the origin."
LUCAS knew better than to argue—his information came from within him—the records that have been long shared by humanity as a whole. There was no way it all could be wrong...and yet he stood here confirming every aspect of it.
"How did you arrive here...or...did I arrive...in your existence?"
"That is an explanation best saved for a better venue, don't you think? But no, you did not leave the world you were born into. I have come to this one, and it's this machine here that helped me do so."
"Let me see, one second," LUCAS said, investigating more into the mysterious machine. "As of...Beyond The Logos, ICARUS was used to remake the world that you had come from using...I don't have a strict definition on the type of energy that machine emits."
"It's okay to not know," Gavin said, placing his hands at his side. "It's conceptually the strongest thing I've ever come into contact with, I don't expect the people here to get it."
"Well," LUCAS began, "I'm sorry but...I don't think I can take that answer and not ask questions!"
Gavin offered a laugh, he placed a hand in a deep pocket and slumped slightly. "That's okay, I totally get it. Think of space, big cosmic void of nearly nothing, right? Some planets and stars and all that junk out there? Envision the energy it took to keep everything where it is—think those planets and stars are out there doing nothing?"
"I expect they are where they are because of the orbits they have."
Gavin groaned. "Well, yes, technically that is true, but that's the mundane answer. That's the answer schoolchildren are taught to prevent the wrong kinds of questions from being asked."
"What kind of questions are the wrong ones?"
"Why are we here? Why do we exist as we do at this point in time, at this exact second? Repeat ad infinitum." He made a motion with his hand. "You see, coming from hermano to hermano—it's all this superpowerful energy. The fabric of our existence as it were. Bound so tightly like coils on a circuit. And that machine there," he pointed to ICARUS, "is the instruction manual. It's the decoder, and sometimes, even encoder."
"Seems like it's pretty important," LUCAS said. "It...looks more like something I remember, though. "There was this...engine."
"Yes!" Gavin showed an excited smile. "There are several pieces of ICARUS that are around the world here—pieces of the whole. As you can see here, ICARUS is in kind of busted up shape. Took quite a hit when it crossed dimensions. By my calculations, it seems about twelve pieces of it are no longer here."
"Twelve..." LUCAS said.
"That number mean anything to you?" Gavin asked.
"That's the number of Children of the Night."
Gavin's eyebrows raised in confusion. "Children of the who now?" LUCAS lowered his hands as the daunting effort of explaining overwashed him. Gavin burst out into another laugh. "I'm just joking little buddy. No, I know about 'em. Right pieces of work they are. Looking for the pieces I'm seeking for my lil machine here. Guess you could say we're in a bit of a power struggle."
LUCAS rubbed his chin, thinking, connecting. "Well, I have to say I'm not quite sure what I should do next. I have a mission I need to complete, but I'm not too sure how I would be able to do so alone. It seems like we both wish to stop the Children of the Night..."
A smile crossed Gavin's face. "Well, you sure you're wanting to ask that? For all you know I could just be lying—some stranger in the desert waiting to steal from you all your worth."
LUCAS shook his head. "I'm still coming to terms with the fact that you're from another world, but I do not doubt such. Your story is odd, but in reality, so is mine. If I were to doubt you I'd be doubting myself."
"Well said," Gavin offered his hand. "Well then little buddy, I'd love to collaborate. What's your name?"
"LUCAS Gray."
"Well Luke, it's nice to meet ya. If you want we can head out back toward the camp that's out this way. Traveling band of nomads searching the deserts for meaning, valor, et cetera."
LUCAS cocked his head, noticing that the joints in his neck were a little worse for wear. He'd have to remedy that soon. "You sound as if you're an outsider to them."
"Well, yes. Of course I have additional reasons for being out here, but I didn't mean it so plain. They are a nice bunch of people—upset over the conditions out in the outpost further out east. Got a large weapons factory that plenty of their numbers have been kidnapped to. Forced labor never made anyone the happier."
"That's...awful," LUCAS said. He closed his eyes and scanned his databanks for any record of large weapon development bases in the vicinity. He scanned through files and information at a breakneck pace. "The...Kosunaga Plant," LUCAS said.
"Y-Yes, you know about it?" Gavin asked.
"Cursory. Owned and operated by the Kosunaga brothers. Tachi and Namba—two who rose to power ten years ago after discovering and controlling the flow of water for a large percentage of the west..." LUCAS' eyes were practically spinning in their sockets as he pulled. It made him dizzy and he had to support himself up by placing a hand out on ICARUS to keep from falling over.
"You okay?" Gavin asked, offering a hand.
"Just...dizzy, one second. I..." he was breathing heavy. Such an odd thought...he didn't need to breath...and here he was having trouble getting the oxygen he needed. Was this something Abel gave him to make him feel more human? Surely he knew it came with drawbacks. His systems stabilized and his vision cleared. "Yeah, I'm good." He looked up at Gavin. His eyes glowed with a turquoise light that also flowed through the edge of his hair. "There's...a piece of ICARUS at that factory."
Gavin looked at him, surprised. "What? How could you possibly know that? Are you an escapee?"
LUCAS shook his head. "No, I've never been. I have records up here," he pointed up toward his head. "I think...I think I can track these...these pieces. They're extremely powerful on their own. Just like Godsong..."
"Godsong?"
"That was the name of the engine I remember."
"Well Luke, it seems we have a lot to talk about, but what say we do it in more...comfortable context?"
"Comfortable?"
"Come on, there's a place we can sit and not be out here in the arid heat."
LUCAS pulled up his system's vitals and saw his internals were getting hotter as he continued to talk. He looked back up to Gavin and together they went, through the desert and crossing the dunes toward their destination. Suddenly, LUCAS felt like he had the beginning of a goal forming.