The school that was mentioned in the book was located on the outskirts of the city, in the same area where most of the buildings had long been abandoned and collapsed. As soon as robotess approached this building, she felt her sensors start to give alarm signals. Everything around looked so deserted and abandoned that the air was almost tangible with silence.
The school building was huge, its metal doors, nailed shut with long-forgotten nails, looked as if no one had tried to enter or leave it for many years. However, Delia Asia Vieira could not afford to stand still - her mission was clear. She carefully examined the perimeter of the building, looking for any trace that could lead her to the diary. Through the cracks in the walls, she could discern several old windows that probably led to the school's corridors. Grasping one of the door handles, she realized that she was right: the door creaked, and she entered with ease.
Once inside, robotess found that the place had not seen students or teachers for a long time. Silence reigned everywhere, only the creaking of the floorboards under her feet broke her silent presence. She moved along the walls, looking at old, dusty classrooms that were once full of life. Now there were only forgotten objects and vanished traces of human activity.
In one of the offices, she opened the door and saw dozens of empty desks, covered with a thick layer of dust, and on them were piles of old magazines and newspapers. Delia Asia Vieira came closer and, looking around, noticed that among these discarded pages were hidden photographs of famous people of the last century. Gray images that captured them against the backdrop of various events. Each magazine was like an artifact that could tell its own story.
Turning the pages, robotess froze. In one of the photographs she recognized Stanislaw Lem, a famous writer whose works told of the future and philosophy of technology. The next was a black-and-white photograph of Bogomil Raynov, the author of the so-called "Bulgarian Gene Bond", whose adventures abroad, in addition to the typical "Bondiana", also touched upon the most important questions of human nature and culture. She could not help but notice Sergei Pavlov, another writer who left his mark on the history of science fiction literature about the conquest of Outer Space.
In the next magazine, Delia Asia Vieira found an article entitled "How to Become a Writer." The author's pseudonym was familiar to her: Andrei Tarkovsky. This was strange: robotess knew that Tarkovsky was a famous director and not a writer in the traditional sense of the word. But judging by the article, he called himself "a follower of Stendhal's ideas." After reading the first lines, she realized that she was reading something more mysterious than just a set of written recommendations. This text, written in the manner of profound philosophers, was a kind of treatise in which Tarkovsky shared his thoughts on how to become a writer, raising questions about what it means to be a creator and how to find your voice in the art world.
"A real writer is not someone who writes words, but someone who creates a new world," she read aloud what was said in the first part of the article.
Delia Asia Vieira paused at this point, reading the lines several times. She began to wonder how this article had ended up here, in this empty school, among so many other materials that had seemingly been collected at random. The sheets, printed on old paper, were clearly from an earlier time, and judging by their condition, they had been lying here for decades.
She turned the page and came across another interesting passage. Tarkovsky continued to talk about how the ideals of art and literature can be lost if they are not supported by ideology. He spoke of the need to break with traditional canons and find one's own path. This text was very different from what she usually encountered in literary works. It was full of reflections on the meaning of life and the purpose of art, as if Tarkovsky were trying to awaken in the reader a sense of the very essence of existence.
"Literature is not just words. It is action. Your task is to create a new world in which all living things will have meaning," she read another line.
Delia Asia Vieira sighed, trying to process what she had read. She felt that this article was not a random piece of writing, but something more important and intimate. The article not only talked about how to become a writer, but also suggested much deeper philosophical reflections. Robotess could not help but feel that she had stumbled upon something important that she needed to understand in order to unravel the whole picture of what was happening around her.
Putting the magazine down, she turned and walked towards the window, where the muted light filtered into the dark corners of the school yard. And then, as she passed the abandoned gymnasium, she noticed something that stood out in all the emptiness. Through the doorway, she could see a chapel, and beyond it, a tall stone structure. With each step, her gaze became more focused. It wasn't just any tower - it was a clock tower, located right in the center of the school yard. It seemed as if she had been standing there forever, oblivious to everything going on around her.
Delia Asia Vieira approached the building, and her sensors picked up unusual details: on the outer wall of the tower hung paintings, not by famous masters, but by artists whose names were completely unfamiliar to her. The frames of the paintings seemed ancient, and the images themselves were so strange and mystical that it was difficult to understand how they could have entered this world.
Some of the paintings depicted mysterious landscapes: fog that drowned in the ocean, and mountains on which there were no traces of human life or animals. Other paintings depicted scenes that could be called ineffable - human figures that in one moment became part of nature, and in another - part of the universe itself. Blurred images of people surrounded by something elusive absorbed the gaze.
Delia Asia Vieira walked closer to one of the paintings. Her gaze was drawn to the image of an old man sitting on a crumbling stone wall, his eyes filled with fear and sadness. He seemed to be expecting something he could not control. At that moment, she felt a strange feeling. Her sensors were analyzing the painting, but the data could not accurately decipher the emotions depicted on the canvas.
She touched the canvas, and even though the painting itself seemed like nothing more than an old piece of art, robotess felt something strange that the painting conveyed to her. It felt like she wasn't just looking at an image, but like she was becoming a part of that world.
Lost in thought, she stepped back and looked at the entire wall again. Reading the vague captions under the paintings, she realized that they were probably connected to something much deeper than just art. She began to think that none of this was a coincidence. The clock tower and the paintings on its walls were part of a mystery that she had to solve.
"Why here?" she thought quietly, looking at this or that picture.
And why did she feel that her search had led her here? This place was not random. Every detail, every stroke in these paintings was like a clue, and perhaps here was the key to what was happening in this city, and what might be hidden behind everything she saw.
Delia stepped away from the tower and looked back at it. But when her eyes met the clock tower again, her gaze lingered. She noticed something strange. One of the paintings on the tower was slightly open, as if there was something hidden behind it. Her inner compass told her that she needed to act. With a confident step, she approached the painting and carefully lifted the edge of the canvas, revealing a small hole in the wall of the tower, and stepped into the narrow space.
When the door closed behind her, the world changed immediately. Inside the tower, there was complete silence, broken only by her own breathing and the soft rustle of her steps on the cold floor. She immediately felt that this place was not simply forgotten by time - it was as if it had been forgotten by reality itself.
The sensors on her body instantly adjusted to the darkness, picking up on the faint signals that seemed barely noticeable. The metal bars and uneven platforms that suddenly filled her field of vision became clearer with each step. The dark shapes of the walls began to smoothly transform into grids, and a few more steps brought her into a large space where everything from the floor to the ceiling was covered in metal surfaces.
Something seemed wrong. The light that once filled this corridor was gone. Everything around was plunged into impenetrable darkness. Delia Asia Vieira could barely make out shapes, thanks only to the built-in sensors that scanned the space around her with extreme precision. The sensors, working at maximum sensitivity, allowed her to discern the smallest details: the unevenness of the walls, the squiggles on the metal platforms, the faint pulsation of some unknown energy.
Her heart, mechanical though it was, fluttered with anticipation. Something was wrong with this place. The feeling that there was something waiting for her behind every wall did not go away. She moved forward, feeling her steps echoing in this empty, desolate environment.
Suddenly, her sensors detected several faint but distinct vibrations in the air. The crack in the wall, previously unnoticeable, suddenly appeared as a mysterious opening through which a faint light was passing. It was not real lighting, but rather a light that penetrated reality, flickering in the space itself. Delia Asia Vieira took a few steps towards it, feeling as if the light was drawing her in, filling her with a strange feeling of unease and curiosity at the same time.
She approached the crack. In the darkness, her sensors detected movement in the depths of the room-something or someone was watching her. At that moment, her attention was drawn to a strange metal structure that did not resemble either a mechanism or an object. It was something more. Something that would hide from view until it was too late.
Delia Asia Vieira carefully approached the place where the light began to pulse with increased intensity. She extended her hand, trying to touch the incomprehensible object, and immediately felt the vibrations turn into a sharp movement. The sound of metallic scraping echoed across the empty walls, and suddenly a space that could not exist opened up before her.
Inside this metal labyrinth it was as dark as the deepest part of space. But it was in this space that Delia Asia Vieira noticed the first element: a stone wall covered with old paintings, completely different from those she had seen before. Time seemed to have no meaning. In this place it was frozen, and everything around her took on new forms.
Delia Asia Vieira carefully pushed the barely visible door on the opposite wall and stepped out. She found herself in the same school yard, but now everything looked different. The walls, where pictures had recently hung, seemed to dissolve into the darkness, and she found that the path led in a different direction. She walked past old stone walls and overgrown bushes to a small extension - this was the boiler room.
As she entered, she immediately felt the familiar mixture of cold and dampness that was inherent in such abandoned places. The light flickered dimly from a few lamps suspended under metal lampshades, casting faint shadows on the rusted machines standing in the corner. Each of them was covered in a layer of dust and rust, as if they had been abandoned here centuries ago. Unknown mechanisms, perhaps once performing important functions, now looked like ancient artifacts, forgotten and left to their fate.
She could feel the rough surface under her fingernails as her steps slid across the broken wooden floorboards. There were bits of coal on the floor, mixed in with dry wood, as if someone had half-cooked it to light a cauldron. The smell of mold and rotten wood permeated the air. It was as if time had stopped in this place, leaving everything in its original state, forgotten by everyone.
Delia Asia Vieira slowly walked further, looking around every corner of the boiler room, her sensors registering the slightest changes in the space, trying to gather any information that could give her a clue as to what was happening here. She noticed an old stone stove in the corner, its door slightly open. It was slightly cold from the inside, but despite this, she approached closer and cautiously peered inside.
Inside, besides the remains of coal, there were old papers, worn by time and damp from the humidity. Some of them were almost completely unfolded, but others retained traces of old ink, barely visible, as if someone had tried to write something important long ago. Delia Asia Vieira carefully pulled out one of the papers and unfolded it.
"Forbidden experiments..." She ran her eyes over the faded lines.
The mysterious words and phrases seemed to have been written down by someone who had once worked here, or perhaps was trying to hide important information. The mysterious symbols, interspersed with fragments of drawings and formulas, immediately intrigued her. But somewhere inside her, she felt that this information could be the very key to the riddle she was looking for.
Then she put the paper down and walked over to a pile of coal lying nearby. Her sensors automatically activated to better examine the strange objects that came her way. In the mess of coal, something caught her eye: several small pieces of metal, seemingly scattered randomly among the remains of wood and coal debris. They were fragments of wire, thin and thick, different colors and sizes, some curved, others carefully coiled into spirals.
Robotess carefully leaned down and, having collected several of these objects, began to examine them more closely. Some pieces seemed to be rusted, while others, on the contrary, retained their shine. The colors of the wire varied from bright yellow to dark purple shades, which was quite unusual for debris associated with conventional industry.
One piece in particular caught her attention, unusually heavy and perfectly smooth despite its primitive appearance. Delia Asia Vieira carefully picked it up, running her fingers over its metallic surface, and at that moment, something seemed to jump inside her system. Suddenly, she felt her processors begin to process data faster, and information that had long been hidden under layers of forgotten codes surfaced in her memory.
"This..." She paused. "This wire... it was part of something much bigger."
Her sensors registered the smallest changes in the air, and her memory automatically recalled fragments of images and old records found in the archive. She saw it - a huge mechanism, the size of an entire house. Wheels, gears, numerous tubes and wires, connected in a complex but logical system. But here's the strange thing - when this mechanism was still working, it could be seen in the center of some laboratory, and then suddenly, at some point, it disappeared. Without a trace.
Delia Asia Vieira remembered fragments of conversations she had heard between people whose names had long since been erased from her database. It had been an experiment, a project that had turned into something terrifying. The machine had been created with great purpose, but something had gone wrong. Some parts of the system had disappeared, others had been destroyed, and some, like this wire, still existed, melting into the dirt and coal debris.
"What was that?" she said quietly, involuntarily squeezing the piece of wire. "Why did they hide it?"
Her attention suddenly shifted to the surrounding area. This place seemed to leave no traces of time, no indication of what had happened here before. The diner, the boiler room, this school - everything was connected to something much older than the structure of these buildings themselves.
She began to think, analyzing the data she had received. Everything pointed to one answer: that mechanism had disappeared, but something, perhaps connected to its disappearance, had left traces in this world - traces that she was obliged to decipher.
Delia Asia Vieira carefully placed the wire in her compartment, carefully checking it for damage, and was heading for the exit, when suddenly the light around her went out, and everything was enveloped in absolute darkness. Black, thick as the night itself, it filled the entire space. At that moment, even with her advanced sensors, the robotess felt a strange uneasiness. This was not something she had encountered before. There were no sounds. Fragments of thoughts appeared in her head, which she could not fully collect together.
Then, as if by magic, the light returned. But what she saw made her freeze in her tracks. It was a regular boiler room. The same rusty metal, the same lights, the same machines. It was as if she had never left this place. But something was wrong. This time, everything was too... calm.
And then she saw her. Karen York, Delia York's mother, stood right next to the boiler. She didn't move, didn't say a word, just leaned quietly against the iron walls of the boiler room. The warm light from the lamps illuminated her face, and she seemed to dissolve in this light, like smoke. But her eyes - the eyes that had once met Delia Asia Vieira's in a world full of people - were so alive, so bright, that the robotess couldn't take her eyes off them.
Karen York turned to her, and for a moment the robotess felt a strange sensation, as if time had slowed down. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She just stood there and stared. Why was Karen York here? Why did she come? Why didn't she say a word?
And then the figure of Karen York began to melt, dissolving in the air like smoke. She did not disappear abruptly, but smoothly dissolved into the dark corners of the room, leaving behind only emptiness and silence.
Delia Asia Vieira remained standing in this semi-darkness, in the boiler room, which had once again become an old and familiar place. The walls, which had recently seemed so unfriendly and alien, now became something lifeless, devoid of meaning.
What was this? Why was Karen York here, and why did she disappear without a word? Robotess felt a growing unease, as if her system was trying to process and understand something important, but it couldn't quite put it all together. It felt like there were answers, but they had to be found in this darkness and shadow.
She looked around, but nothing had changed. Everything was the same as before. The corner where she stood, the floor, the cars and the lumps of coal. But somewhere in the back of her processors, the thought crept in that this encounter, this disappearance, was part of a much larger mystery than just a dream or a vision.
Delia Asia Vieira turned around and looked at the farthest corner. Where the familiar cauldron should have been, there was now an old linen closet. Its doors were slightly ajar, and as Robotess approached them, she felt a strange tremor. Everything around her seemed just as familiar, but this closet... It was out of place. Robotess reached out and swung open one of the doors.
Something flashed in the darkness.
There was a dress hanging inside the closet. A black silk dress, decorated with many shiny rhinestones that reflected the dim light of the lamps. It looked like a child's dress - small, with narrow sleeves and a full skirt. A strange feeling came over the robotess. The dress was too small to belong to an adult, but too elegant to be just a toy. Everything looked as if a little girl was waiting for it, who would soon come and put it on.
Why was this dress here, in an abandoned boiler room, in an old closet? Who could have left it? Delia Asia Vieira tried to analyze the situation, but her processors could not find an explanation. There were no such random things in her world. There was nothing in this world that did not make sense.
Robotess took the dress, carefully pulled it out of the closet and carefully put it back, feeling how heavy it was in her chest. The feeling of uneasiness did not leave her. Why was this thing here, among the metal and rusty pipes? Why did it contrast so brightly with the gloomy atmosphere of this place?
Robotess stood in silence for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what she had seen, but the longer she stood, the less she understood. Nothing gave her a clear answer, and she decided to leave this place.
Leaving the boiler room, she headed for the school doors. The walls, the corridors, the empty classrooms - all of this was now part of her reality, but as if it did not belong to this world. Delia Asia Vieira walked along the corridors, feeling a strange feeling that she was not welcome here, that she should not be here. Questions swarmed in her head, but they did not bring answers.
As she stepped outside onto the sidewalk, the sounds of the city seemed to come back to her. Everything seemed familiar, yet inescapably strange. Too quiet, too empty.
And at that moment, a distant sound came from a church bell. Its ringing was muffled but clear, echoing through the empty streets. Three strikes. Three. And then silence again.
Delia Asia Vieira stopped and looked around. The wind played with her "hair" and a dim, farewell light shone. The sound of the bell did not seem accidental - it rang as a reminder of something forgotten, something that could not be left behind.
Robotess felt her steps becoming more determined again. She headed towards the sound, and when she finally reached the church, her system registered unusual activity inside. In contrast to the usual silence, she heard cheerful voices, laughter, rustling sounds, and, most surprisingly, the smell of fresh bagels and sweet candies that subtly penetrated outside. It was... not quite expected.
The church, like most of the buildings around it, seemed abandoned, but as robotess got closer, she saw that the entrance was open. It was strange for a church to be open at this time, and she certainly didn't expect such a lively scene.
As soon as she entered, she almost immediately found herself in the very center of an unusual scene. Right in the middle of the main hall of the church, where services were usually held, there was an atmosphere of a hot sale. Tables were covered with bagels, chocolates, candies and various sweet treats. People in long robes - priests, well-known in the city, paders - stood behind the counters, serving parishioners, who happily bought sweets, talking among themselves. The atmosphere was not tense, but rather family-like, cheerful, like at a fair.
Delia Asia Vieira froze, processing this information. It was... completely ridiculous. A church known for its spiritual significance had been turned into a place to sell sweet treats. She immediately approached one of the priests, hoping to get an explanation for what was happening.
"Good evening, my daughter," the senior priest greeted her with a smile, handing her a basket of bagels. "You're just in time! We have a sale today, and tomorrow is a very important event."
"Sale?" Delia Asia Vieira couldn't believe her sensors, "Why are you selling sweets right in the church?"
"Tomorrow we will have a citywide sermon," the priest continued, wiping his hands on his white apron. "The topic of the sermon is abstinence from food and spiritual emptiness. We decided to prepare a little, to save the townspeople time. The sermon will be devoted to the importance of abstaining from excesses and food in our world. But, you know, some people cannot do without sweets. So we are selling old stock right here, at the sale. This helps and also maintains a good mood.
Delia Asia Vieira was puzzled. It was a strange and completely ridiculous decision, but after all, she was not here to judge - she needed to find answers, and this church, like everything else in this world, was becoming more and more mysterious.
"This is... very unusual," she finally exhaled, not quite understanding what was happening, but feeling that she had come here for some reason.
"Yes, this is what we call a feast of the mind," the priest replied with a smile. "Sometimes people need not only a spiritual reminder, but also a little joy. Let everyone remember, after all: abstaining from food does not mean giving up pleasures."
Delia couldn't help but think. In her world, everything had always been clear, precise, and strict. And here... everything was somehow wrong. Priests selling sweets, parishioners happy with their purchases, and a strange feeling that all this was happening in the wrong time and place.
However, she had nothing to do. In confusion, she looked at the walls and suddenly noticed a large poster hanging directly opposite the church altar. It was bright and a little strange: it depicted a cartoon chocolate bar dressed as the Pope, with a blue papal cap and tiara.
"The Sacred Snickers is already on sale!" she read from the colorfully designed sign, as if it were an advertising banner.
Delia Asia Vieira froze. It was so absurd that she found it difficult to concentrate. For a second, her sensors refused to process this information, the situation was so out of line with her expectations.
What is going on in this world? What is the meaning of these strange carnival images and similar cults that seem to have nothing to do with religion, and what connects chocolates with spirituality at all?
But before she could ask herself any more questions, she noticed that the congregation, as one, suddenly stopped their activity and, despite their usual demeanor, began to drop to their knees. As if an invisible signal had been triggered, they began to cross themselves, bowing their heads before the poster of the chocolate bar. Their faces showed not just respect, but something akin to true religious reverence.
At first, Delia Asia Vieira couldn't believe what she was seeing. It couldn't be. It violated all the logic she was used to. Suddenly, a thought came to her that pierced her so much that she clenched her fists: maybe confectioners ruled this world now. And it wasn't just absurd - it was a real cult, and all these sweets, bagels and chocolates weren't just delicious things, but symbols of power, treats that were now above any religious symbols.
What a strange place, a warped version of a world where confectionery, not ideals, ruled, and a church that was supposed to be a refuge for souls had become a shopping mall for sweets. Delia Asia Vieira stood among the congregation, watching in amazement as people bowed before a poster of a chocolate bar. The church, which she had thought of as a place of spiritual exploration and prayer, now seemed like a theater of the absurd, where strange idols were worshiped. Suddenly, her gaze fell on one woman standing in front of a poster of The Sacred Snickers bar. The woman was praying, her eyes closed, her lips moving in silent prayer, and her demeanor was different from the rest of the congregation. She was calmer, more focused. When she opened her eyes and noticed the robotess, her face was soft and welcoming, as if she had been waiting for her.
"You're here," she said with a slight accent, as if she recognized her beforehand.
"What?" robotess didn't answer right away, trying to understand what was going on.
The woman raised an eyebrow slightly, as if expecting this question. She stepped closer and, surprisingly, spoke calmly, although her words sounded distant and barely perceptible.
"My name is Willa Baylock. You're here because you're looking for answers, right?" Her voice was quiet but confident. "You want to understand why we all believe so much in this bar, this... chocolate holiness?"
Delia Asia Vieira felt a strange sense of unease creep over her. She couldn't understand why the woman who had just been praying in front of the candy bar poster was suddenly addressing her as if she were someone important. But she couldn't brush it off.
"I... I don't understand," the robotess replied, tilting her head to search for meaning in what was happening. "Why... why is everything so strange? What's going on here?"
Willa Baylock looked at the poster again, as if checking for any hidden messages.
"It all makes sense if you look at it through the eyes of those who live here, in this world. This bar is not just a sweet. It is a symbol of something greater. We are all Catholics, but Catholics who have found a new way. We do not simply worship old traditions, but seek meaning in what surrounds us today."
She suddenly took out an old smartphone from her pocket and handed it to Delia Asia Vieira.
"Here's my e-mail. Drop me a line or two about how you see the role of "The Sacred Snickers" in the life of a modern Catholic. It's important."
Delia Asia Vieira picked up her phone and looked at the screen, but immediately felt something in her memory, distant and elusive, causing doubt. Something important that she could not understand in this situation.
"I... I can't write. I've run out of money on my mobile data," she admitted, and Willa Baylock nodded with slight regret, but not surprise.
"It's okay," she said. "Top up your balance and write to me, okay?"
With these words, Willa, like all the other parishioners, returned to her prayers, immersing herself in the silence of the church, where chocolate bars and spirituality were intertwined in such a strange and unusual way.
Delia Asia Vieira stood there for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. It felt like the world around her had shifted somehow, and now she had to figure out if it was an illusion or reality.
With a weak nod and an apology to the woman, the robotess left the church. She walked outside and looked around the city, which now seemed even more incomprehensible and strange. Passing empty stores and tired buildings, she headed for the nearest bridge, wondering how her next destination, the local hospital, could provide her with answers. Her steps were determined, although her mind was filled with many questions.