Pipsqueak's visits grew rarer, and each time he'd bring a fresh set of neurons and a colored pearl for Moon to read. Moon could not shake the impression something had been gnawing at him since she told him about purposed organisms. She resolved not to press him, and delegated her newly obtained processing power to digging up memories of herself and the Ancients. He would open up on his own eventually; certain as the rainfall.
One day there was an unusually long silence after Moon's lecture on the Five Natural Urges and the Void Fluid.
"Mun?" Pipsqueak ventured.
The iterator stirred, propping her chin on her hand.
"Yes, little friend?"
He made a couple of strained syllables, huffed, and reached for a tablet they had prepared for such occasions.
"DO YOU REMEMBR BETTER NOW?"
"Quite a lot, Pipsqueak. All thanks to you."
"HAPPY TO HELP," he wrote.
Moon saw his paw hover over the wood, as if unsure how to proceed. Gently she combed her fingers through the soft fur of his neck as she waited for him to speak.
"WHERE DID THE ANCENTS GO?"
Well. It was going to be one of those conversations. The Iterator's fingers drummed against her thigh as she straightened herself up and looked down at her friend's shiny black eyes.
"They left. Permanently." She sighed. "The whole species committed suicide by means of Void Fluid."
Pip's ears ruffled, falling flat on his head.
"WHAT ABOUT US?" He asked.
"WHAT ABOUT THE CRETURES THEY MADE? THE RAIN? THE ECHOES?"
He was trembling a bit now, clutching his paw into a tiny fist.
Moon closed her eyes, tilting her head to the ceiling as if the answers were written on its rusted metal.
"I do not think they planned how to safeguard our wellbeing after their departure, little one," she answered wearily.
"ABANDON !" he scrawled.
"TEY MAKE US AND ABANDON . LEAVE MOON TO ROT . LEAVE SCUG TO BE EATEN ."
He stopped, clutching the tablet close to his chest, where there was no space left for him to write.
As if his outburst knocked the wind out of him, he dropped to his haunches; staring at the soil in front of him.
Moon saw him sketch one last word in the dust.
"why"
Moon hummed. She reached out to the little creature, scooping him up in her lap, and hugged him close to her heart.
"I used to be very angry at them too. After all, they were the ones to make the world what it is today. To shape us into something that suited their needs. We have been... discarded."
She hesitated, weighing down her next words.
"I think the reason was simply this: they were suffering tremendously, and had been for eons. You need not forgive them, Pip. What they did to you, to us, was unforgivable. However," she added.
"I also have been in pain for many, many years. Arguably more then they have, but that's not the point. I now understand how grueling it is to live such a long time yet finding no meaning or joy in it. Even if the well-being of many depends on you."
The young slugcat tensed. Wordlessly he wrenched himself out of her embrace and onto the cold, damp metal of the island. One thousand cycles could have passed in those minutes, both of them sitting but a meter away from each other listening to the gentle lull of the waves.
"No forgiveness," he hissed at last.
"Pip does not understand. Pip does not want to understand. Pip will never forgive Ancients."
His head swiveled around to face her. Betrayal and anger jutted from his eyes like glass shards, hardened and sharp and brittle with pain. A very raw, familiar sort of pain iterator Looks To The Moon understood from the depths of her soul.
She let the lingering accusation in his words wash over her. She would not defend her creator's actions, and neither would she apologize for her understanding of their plight. Moon held his gaze; offering her small friend a tender, melancholy smile.
Bit by bit, the tension in his posture trickled away. Pip sighed.
He snagged a plank off the floor.
"NEED TIME ALONE"
The iterator nodded, trying to keep her anxiety and worry from showing. Ever perceptive, he added:
"PIP LOVES MOON. WILL BE BACK."
His warm, furry little body had came hurtling towards her before Moon had the chance to register his movement.
The iterator's undignified wheezing quickly turned to laughter, and she buried her face in her little friend's silky fur.
"I love you too, little one."