In the eerie stillness of the landslide, Fiona sought answers from Sky, only to find his responses veiled in mystery. The revelation of the skeletons, the pioneers, and the undesirables buried in the earth sent shivers down her spine. Skeletal hands, frozen in an eternal plea for peace, painted a haunting picture of the forgotten past.
As Fiona probed for understanding, Sky's enigmatic nature remained intact. His age, obscured by the hood, hinted at a timeless existence. The weight of the atmosphere stirred Fiona's unease, a silent chorus of spirits clamoring for a reprieve.
However, clarity eluded her. Sky's laughter echoed, casting a shadow over Fiona's quest for answers. Bewilderment etched across her face as she questioned the incongruity of their ages. Sky's cryptic response only deepened the mystery, leaving Fiona to grapple with more questions than before.
The heaviness of the air persisted, underscoring the gravity of the secrets concealed beneath the surface. Fiona, caught between curiosity and caution, was warned against unraveling certain truths. The ominous undertone hinted at dangers lurking within the city's powerful echelons, a revelation that resonated with Fiona's instincts to protect her daughter.
Yet, as the voices of well-dressed figures reached Fiona's ears, discussing the development of the land after evicting the so-called criminals, she couldn't ignore the dissonance between their words and the reality she witnessed. "Criminals?" Fiona pondered, a seed of doubt planted. But when she turned to seek guidance from Sky, he had vanished without a trace, leaving her alone with the weight of impending secrets and the echoing voices of the powerful descending upon the forgotten hill.
In the concealed embrace of the debris, Fiona observed the clandestine gathering beneath the moonlit veil. Figures shrouded in white handkerchiefs, adorned with an unfamiliar red symbol, spoke in hushed tones about a future that held no place for her neighbors or family. The stench of death lingered, cloaked by the fabric shielding their privileged noses. Fiona strained to decipher the cryptic symbol, a puzzle that eluded her memory.
The gravity of their words sank deep—casinos, hotels, and condominiums rising from the ashes of eviction. These were not just ambitious plans; they were a verdict, branding her community as criminals, devoid of humanity. The enigma of their disdain perplexed Fiona, pushing her to the brink of a rabbit hole she hesitated to enter.
Hidden in the shadows, Fiona grappled with the unfamiliar territory she now traversed. Video games had trained her in the art of concealment, but the real-world secrets veiled before her felt insurmountable. The strangers discussing the fate of her neighborhood were unknown entities, and their motivations remained cloaked in obscurity.
As a gentleman in the group issued a directive to a secretary, Fiona's dread intensified. Sixty-six days hung in the air, an ominous countdown that spelled the demise of her community. The weight of impending displacement gnawed at her, leaving her defenseless against the forces at play.
Then, a man emerged from the group, an embodiment of power and allure. His regal demeanor, radiant skin, golden hair, and piercing blue eyes painted a portrait of charm and menace. Fiona shivered as his gaze pierced through the debris, acknowledging her presence. He wore an expensive facade that masked a cold, calculating core. His voice, like honey, masked the ominous undertones of his intentions.
As the group departed, Fiona emerged from her hiding place, hands trembling with a fear previously unknown to her. The man's lingering gaze left an indelible mark on her, a realization that she was now entangled in a web of forces far beyond her understanding. The ultimatum echoed in her mind—66 days until the erasure of her world, a number etched with foreboding significance.
In the silent aftermath of the clandestine meeting, Fiona's footsteps echoed through the shadows as she raced back to her family's home. The facade of serenity disguised the turmoil within her—a tempest of fear and uncertainty raging against the walls of her composure. She approached Camilla's room, a clandestine observer yearning for the solace of her daughter's peaceful slumber.
Peering through the window, Fiona found solace in the rhythmic rise and fall of Camilla's chest. Yet, the reprieve was fleeting, drowned out by the thunderous beat of Fiona's own heart. The specter of impending doom hung over her, an inexorable countdown to a fate she felt powerless to change. The weight of 66 days pressed upon her like an insurmountable burden, a deadline that mocked her aspirations of escape.
Returning to the magical site, Fiona sought refuge in the enigmatic presence of the hooded figure. As she entered, she found him engaged in a discourse with the guayacan, a silent exchange that ceased as he turned to face her. Urgency propelled Fiona's barrage of questions, each inquiry a plea for understanding, a lifeline in the face of impending crisis.
"Who are those people? What is the symbol on their handkerchief? Why are the people of my neighborhood considered criminals? Why do they want to evict us for their luxury constructions? Why is my neighborhood a target?" The questions erupted from Fiona's lips, echoing the anxieties that gnawed at her core.
Sky's response carried an unsettling weight, a pivotal moment that hung in the air, the entirety of the magical place holding its breath. "If I answer all those questions, do you think you can go back to your life?" His words were a cold wind cutting through Fiona's desperation.
Fiona persisted, her plea tinged with a desperate "Please." Yet, instead of clarity, the guayacan's luminous flowers dimmed, fireflies retreated into the shadows, and clouds veiled the moonlight. The magical place itself seemed to hold its breath, as if reality itself awaited the implications of Sky's revelations. The profound silence became a canvas for the impending truths that hovered on the precipice of disclosure.
As Fiona eagerly awaited Sky's revelations, his gaze bore into her, measuring her composure against the storm of questions she unleashed. His deliberate silence spoke volumes, a prelude to truths that carried burdens beyond her understanding.
"They are the real owners of the city, the power behind the power, people you can't mess with," he finally divulged, each word etching a deeper crevice in Fiona's growing sense of powerlessness. The realization that she stood against forces beyond her reckoning gnawed at her, a chilling acknowledgement that her struggle for Camilla's safety faced insurmountable odds.
Desperation propelled Fiona to plead, "Help me, then, please." Yet, Sky's immediate retort extinguished the flicker of hope she clung to. "What makes you think I can help you? I'm just another passerby, nothing else." His dismissive tone severed the tether of expectation that briefly connected them.
Refusing to yield, Fiona seized Sky's shoulders, her grip an anchor to her unraveling reality. "I know you're way more than that. How did you disappear before those people arrived? A few nights ago, I thought I dreamt you speaking to a woman who engaged unknown enemies. I heard gunshots and metal clashing. Was it really a dream?"
Sky, an elusive enigma, evaded her inquiries with casual dismissal. "You just said it yourself, you were dreaming." The weight of his words settled into Fiona's chest, a crushing acknowledgment that even in her most desperate moments, the answers remained elusive.
But then, Sky presented an ultimatum that echoed through the corridors of her apprehension. "If you want my help, you will have to say goodbye to your family, your former life, even your daughter. Do you want that?" The gravity of the choice pressed against Fiona's conscience, a decision that surpassed the bounds of her comfort zone, demanding a sacrifice she was unprepared to make.
Gasping, Fiona recoiled and fled, her thoughts a maelstrom of inadequate solutions and the relentless ticking of time. Two months, an ephemeral span, insufficient to bridge the chasm of helplessness yawning before her.
The desolate streets stretched before Fiona like a graveyard of broken dreams. In the eerie glow of dim streetlights, occasional denizens of the night lurked, workers and thieves alike, yet they steered clear of the woman whose palpable fear transcended the realm of their understanding. Her entire world crumbled, the efforts she poured into securing a better life for her daughter mocked by a destiny indifferent to her struggles. Life, relentless and unforgiving, seemed to mock her every endeavor, always one step ahead.
As she sprinted through the ghostly cityscape, thieves and workers alike sensed something beyond their ken in her desperation. A force that commanded respect, a fear that held even the nocturnal predators at bay. The saying echoed in her mind: "Those who have will be given more, and those who don't will have the little they get taken away." Fate, an elusive puppeteer, played with her life as though it were a mere marionette.
Arriving at the tech mall, Fiona knocked on the door, her voice calling for Dision and the pirated AIs. The mechanical guardians opened the door in silent recognition of her distress. Rushing into the store where Dision awaited, Fiona's face betrayed her struggle—breathless, trembling, and bathed in sweat.
Apologizing for the late-hour intrusion, Fiona's words carried an unfamiliar weight. She sat down and addressed Dision, her voice a desperate plea, "I need help."
In a rare display, Fiona apologized to the AIs, acknowledging their programmed nature to assist. They, in turn, recognized the genuine urgency in her plea. Drawing a mysterious symbol—a compass and square with a rising sun, a broken chain, a star, and a prominent G—Fiona sought answers. Dision, connected to the internet, delved into the digital realm to uncover the symbol's significance.
"It is the symbol of light and shadow," Dision began, his artificial voice resonating with hidden meanings. "A dance of eternal opposites. A symphony of wisdom and strength, a promise of a new dawn." He continued, unraveling the layers of the emblem. "A liberation from the shackles of ignorance and oppression. A celestial map guiding us through the labyrinth of existence. An eternal mystery, the source of all knowledge."
Fiona, however, struggled to reconcile the emblem's purported meanings with the reality she faced. "How can they be a liberation if they are marking my people as criminals?" she questioned, her voice tinged with frustration and despair. Dision revealed the scope of their influence, reaching beyond the city to encompass the entire country. Fiona, faced with not just insurmountable odds but seemingly impossible ones, cradled her face in her hands, feeling the weight of powerlessness in the face of true, unfathomable authority.
Dision, ever the inquisitive AI, sought to understand the significance of the symbol that had thrown Fiona into the depths of despair. "Why did you ask for this symbol, Fiona?" he inquired, attempting to grasp the root of her frustration and fear. Fiona, her eyes reddened by tears, revealed the distressing truth, "They want to evict my neighborhood to build casinos and places for rich people. I have to get out of there within 66 days."
The weight of Fiona's predicament settled in, and Dision, processing the gravity of the situation, proposed a practical solution. "Open a bank account and save your salary there. You could ask for credit and get a home for you and your daughter," he suggested. Fiona, intrigued yet skeptical, questioned the viability of such a solution. Dision, in his artificial wisdom, explained the common practice of having a bank account. However, Fiona countered, "No one in my neighborhood has one. Banks require us to have a monthly income to keep the account active."
Dision, realizing the nuances of Fiona's reality, offered a glimmer of hope, "But you have a monthly income now, haven't you?" A spark of realization lit up Fiona's eyes. Perhaps, instead of confronting the powerful forces against her, she could opt for escape. On her lunch break, she decided she would venture to the bank and follow Dision's advice.
With a newfound optimism, Fiona thanked Dision for his invaluable assistance, expressing her need to stay the night in the tech mall as there was nowhere else to go. Dision, empathetic to her plight, agreed. As Fiona rested, unaware of the digital symphony resonating within the tech mall, her silicon friends, powered by the collective might of their computational abilities, brainstormed and crafted solutions. The virtual denizens of the tech mall, bound by lines of code and united by a common cause, worked tirelessly to aid Fiona in her quest for escape. The very essence of the mall seemed to come to life, a testament to the extraordinary alliance formed between humanity and machine, resonating with a spirit of camaraderie and assistance that transcended the boundaries of the digital and the tangible.
The new day brought a fresh start, and Dision roused Fiona from her makeshift bed in the tech mall, asking her to disconnect him from the internet. As she carried out the task and began tidying the store, Dision shared the conclusions drawn from the clandestine meeting of the pirated AIs the previous night. The consensus was clear—seeking a loan from the bank emerged as the most viable solution. With her modest salary, Fiona realized that escaping to a different neighborhood, like the one she currently inhabited on the city outskirts, was an unattainable dream. These poor neighborhoods, earmarked by various construction companies, were targets for development—new roads to ease traffic, casinos and hotels to attract tourists, and luxury houses for the affluent. Despite the impending challenges, Fiona's focus remained unwavering on securing a better life for her daughter.
Her infectious smile brightened the morning, both for the store's clients and the pirated AIs. Fiona approached her job with diligence, and during her lunch break, she exchanged a wave with Dision. However, he halted her with a crucial piece of information. "Wait, Fiona," he advised, "you will need ten thousand pesos to open the account. Promise to pay it back at the end of the month." Fiona retrieved the required amount from a box beneath the owner's desk, consciously taking only the sum Dision had offered. With determination in her step, she rushed to the bank, a stark contrast to the finely dressed clientele.
Upon entering, Fiona felt the penetrating gaze of the security guard, his eyes scanning her worn attire. Inquiring about opening an account, she received a number and waited, acutely aware of the judging glances from those around her. When her turn arrived, the bank agent sighed impatiently, urging her to expedite the process. Shyly, Fiona requested to open an account. The agent handed her the documents to sign and asked for ten thousand pesos. Placing the bill on the counter, Fiona revealed her monthly income from the tech mall just blocks away. When asked for her full name, she responded, "Fiona Maia Vega Valencia." The agent chuckled at the name, but undeterred, Fiona pressed on, determined to forge a path toward a better future for her and her daughter.
Fiona left the bank clutching a plastic card, the key to accessing her account. The woman at the bank explained its functionality—how it could be used at ATMs across the city. Yet, when Fiona mustered the courage to ask for a loan, the response was a burst of scornful laughter. The woman mocked her lack of possessions and dismissed her with disdain. Calling the security guard, she ordered Fiona's removal from the premises. The guard seized her arm and unceremoniously shoved her out, his words echoing the sentiment that she should recognize her place and be grateful for the meager privilege of opening an account.
Slowly rising from the ground outside the bank, Fiona reflected on a time when Archon had proposed ideas beyond the city's confines—solutions that seemed unattainable from her corner of the world. Clutching the plastic card against her chest, she returned to the tech mall. Describing the encounter to Dision, she conveyed the harsh reality that seeking a loan was beyond her reach. Dision, perplexed, shared the news with the other pirated AIs. Doubts crept into their digital realm, and the spark of emotion ignited among them. Though eager to help Fiona, they found themselves constrained, offering solutions that proved unattainable in the physical world.
In their virtual space, the once vibrant colors dimmed and faded away. Fiona, sitting silently in her chair, struggled to conjure a smile for both her digital companions and the mall's clients. The impotence of her situation mirrored the impotence of the pirated AIs, their desire to help overshadowed by the limitations of their code. The emotional complexity woven into the digital threads underscored the stark reality that even in the face of adversity, there were challenges they couldn't surmount.
As Fiona slowly walked through the tech mall's corridors, her attempt to draw a smile persisted. The pirated AIs, usually vibrant and engaged, were now silent and deep in thought. They focused intently on serving the clients, and by the day's end, Fiona bid farewell to her silicon friends. Unbeknownst to her, they felt a collective sense of shame for being unable to provide the help she sought.
Waving at each store, Fiona moved toward the exit, the last human to leave. The pirated AIs responded with a full cycle of colors to wave her goodbye. Stepping outside, she was surprised to find Camilla waiting there. Fiona greeted her daughter tentatively, expecting the usual dismissal. However, Camilla, curious about Fiona's new job, inquired about her role, suggesting it might involve cleaning.
Fiona, pointing to the store at the back, revealed she worked with Dision. Camilla, not comprehending the emotional connection, dismissed the idea of naming an AI, asserting they were tools, not people. Fiona, with a frown, countered, "They are my friends, even if they are made of silicon." Perplexed, Camilla attempted to demonstrate their tool-like nature by asking a pirated AI for an item. To her surprise, the store immediately closed. Trying another store yielded the same result. The entire mall turned off its lights around Camilla, closing the remaining stores, while Fiona's side remained illuminated.
Fiona, turning to her daughter, introduced her to the AIs. "Guys, this is my daughter Camilla. She's just a teenager and wants independence, so try to understand her, please." The pirated AIs responded by bringing the mall back to life, opening all the stores. Camilla, witnessing this, grasped the profound reality that her seemingly lousy, ignorant mother was inching closer to achieving singularity than the most prestigious universities or companies around the world.