Leaving the secure vicinities of the former Observatory behind, Breaker and his company of rookie warriors embarked on their way to his new goddess. The burning rain of Shifting Gales only fell down periodically, a phenomenon which allowed the trio to pass each wave a certain distance before they would need to seek shelter under a rock or an overhang.

Breaker already noticed on his prior mission through the unmanaged storm that he had some quantities of acid resistance, but he couldn’t say the same about Rain and Coast. Not to mention their three trusty mounts.

Breaker witnessed the horrors the burning rain can cause to a lizard if they are not immune to the biting pain. A disturbing spectacle of the loss of motor control, followed by violent spasms that would culminate in the tragic dissolving death of the beast. A fate he didn’t wish neither Crusher nor the two Scavengers and their Cyans to experience. Even if they would return the next cycle for inexplicable reasons, such an experience would change his company and Ocean could notice his lack of care and not value his leadership qualities high enough to view him as an equal.

Trial of fire helps young warriors. Hardens resolve through failure. Try again. Try until succeed. Way of endurance. Way good. Not good for lizards. Lizards go crazy. Protect Crusher. Crusher ally. Warriors and Cyans allies. Mission important.  

The cyan lizard riders were as useful as Breaker imagined them to be for their quest. Crusher more or less took it upon himself to utilize these leaping menaces as scouts to keep his, in comparison, leisure stroll free of any danger. The rhythmic explosions from the Cyans were in the beginning quite annoying, but after the second cycle of travelling with them the popping sounds even relaxed Breaker. As long as Crusher didn’t get nervous, they all were out of danger … the looming menace that was the burning rain taken aside.

Breaker utilised his superior intellect and awareness to keep track of possible food sources to keep his people well-fed. His trusty spear pierced the carapaces of centipedes small and big. Their electrical discharges did not bother Breaker in the slightest. Breaker learned in prior encounters to wrap his spear in scrap fabrics to charge his spear and not electrocute his body. It only took ten shocks until he understood back then. But now the centipedes were his prey, not the other way around.

Thanks to Breaker’s leadership qualities and Crusher's control over the Cyans, their path upward went by without any mentionable issues. They were slow, however. In the time that went by when Breaker himself took the same route for the first time, his surroundings did look quite different. It was a frightening experience that he was entirely unable to recognize familiar rock structures. The burning rain ate into the solid ground and riddled the upper layers with deep holes, while already damaged debris either got reduced to smithers or broke off and tumbled into the Deadlands far below. The sound of loose debris falling was a constant reminder of the sheer danger of Gales’ painful tears. A haunting sound. No wonder they barely encountered predators on the Escarpment.

Shifting Gales’ northwest Leg appeared on the horizon after four cycles worth of travel. Her massive monolith of a body left Breaker’s company in awe as he took the time to explain to them what they saw based on what he understood from his encounter with the three mechanical gods.

‘Shift-ing Gales entire building! Small puppet deep inside. Puppet body goal, true body of machine goddess. Caution. Annoying Eye can appear. Electric Eye friend. Not hurt friend. Eye is guide to puppet.’

‘…Entire Building? Building looks sick. Holes. Damage.’ Rain that Crackles pointed at various locations at the base of Gales’ Underhang. ‘Big holes. Pain?’

Breaker grabbed his spear firm. Rain was right. In the two hundred cycles that passed since the last time he was here, Shifting Gales suffered greatly apparently. His understanding of how the machine goddess works was not whole, but he at least knew that the purple goddess mentioned in her rage something about how his brethren from the mainland hurt yet another machine goddess with explosives. If explosives hurt the enormous beings, missing pieces could be comparable to flesh wounds, Breaker noticed.

The holes were new. And the strange lights in the area between the legs all had extinguished. A massive complex of pipes and blocks was now fully exposed to the burning menace which was the rain. Breaker understood the fact the massive complex probably died in his absence, that part which was now tinted in utter darkness. His urgency to meet up with Gales rose, now not only fuelled by his desires to take over the tribe but genuine worry for his goddess’ safety.

‘Great pain. We hurry. Find cause of burning rain. Ask if Scavengers can stop it. Stick close to Breaker. Climb Leg. Meet Machine Goddess.’

Breaker signalled Flooded Coast, who stood behind as a lookout, to follow them and marched towards the massive Superstructure across the plateau. He did notice a similar pattern up here as he did at the Escarpment. They were climbing over structures of rocks all hollowed out and riddled with holes. No dirt, barely any bright-coloured soft rock. Only the dark and hardy rock remained on the ground, the stone which was resilient against the burning rain.

Breaker was cautious, very cautious. There were too many holes, too many caves that could house dangers that could take them by surprise. He ordered Rain and Coast to each observe their respective flanks, while he kept his eyes on the path ahead followed by nervous glances to the way they took. Luckily the monsters of the deep seemingly hadn’t enough interest in the hasting group, which tried to pass the open fields before the next dissolving downpour.

After a few sprints, followed by enduring the rain under whatever protective layer they were able to get under, the group finally arrived at Gales' Leg. Looking up the giant of a tower, Breaker was able to make out the original height of it quite quickly. For the fact, that the rain only turned green less than two major cycles ago, the machine goddess’ leg was already dug out by a huge margin. Far above their head Breaker could spot a harsh line in the Leg, a line where the metallic-blue metal shifted into a dull-looking steel frame. A wire net, which acted as stabilisation, was now dug out by the rain. Yet the machine goddess was still standing. The loss of over 30 meters of foundation under her legs destabilized her but didn’t initiate her fall … just yet.

The familiar buzzing and zappy sound of Gales’ annoying eye broke the big Scavenger’s concentration, and he focused on the origin of the sound. He held up his hand and slowly lowered his long digits, signalling Rain and Coast to lower their spears. He expected Gales’ messenger down here, where he last saw it on his way down.

The Overseer flashed up in surprise and performed a little dance with its tendrils. It was apparent that Gales was longing for his return if she stationed one of her valuable Eyes down here. He slowly waved at it, a gesture the odd eye returned. How peculiar.

Then the Eye vanished. Breaker’s gaze wandered upward the leg, where he could spot the cyan body of the odd being zapping up the path. It then stopped and returned a bit, only to project a familiar pictogram. The only way was up.

Eye states obvious. The path is certain.

‘Flooded Coast, Rain that Crackles? Follow me. Goal is up.”

Shifting Gales was taken by surprise by the sudden ping of the Overseer she stationed at her legs. Having left her consciousness open at all times to it, she had soon grown numb to the openness of her mind to that particular helper of hers. Gales closed the communication orb and paused her always-ongoing chat with Seven Red Suns looking up from her place of retreat. She had chosen to spend her suffering deep in her Superstructure, close enough to the leaking acid to hear it gushing, blubbering and seething.

Filled with vigour and a fleeting idea of hope, Gales leant forth and got slowly but surely on her knees. Only when she successfully performed that feat of artificial muscle tendons moving her from one position to the next did Gales fire up her personal anti-gravity field to ease the way too difficult path from her knees up to her useless pointy feet.

Once again, she wondered just what her makers thought about the design of her legs. Why had she a brighter coloured section between her foot and her lower leg, where the ankle was supposed to be, when it served no purpose? Perpetually stuck in a tiptoeing position, with no ankle joint to properly use the after-all completely cosmetic heel-bumps of hers. Yet another question to the pile of unanswered queries regarding what she was supposed to be. A question she filed under ‘material to brood over to pass the time’.

The short but powerful message from her Overseer, however, brought her back to reality. The presence of the scavenger, who helped her and saved Gales’ life was reason to rejoice. She wouldn’t be alone anymore. The regular chats with Seven Red Suns were supplementing that need for company only to a certain degree she quickly noticed in the past two hundred cycles. Chat 1.0 was too slow and cumbersome to allow the suffering Iterator to immerse herself in the world of words. The input delay laid bare how far away she truly was, and the connection speed spread out simple conversations across several cycles. Cycles dominated by the dreaded feeling of loneliness and intrusive thoughts as she was waiting in suspense for the next message from Suns. She … was lonely. Despite Suns' best efforts to keep her entertained between their sessions with Approaching Sky.

A silent shriek of frustration, which immediately got accompanied by the oh-so-familiar flashing warning symbols of yet another new error to join Gales’ growing collection of messages of pain. She took a moment to allow the rush of pain, this time originating from her nearly numb Underhang, to send shivers across her puppet body, which caused her to spasm slightly.

I am still at the beginning of my waiting game, and I already grew for the most part numb to the crippling pain of my body screaming and shrieking in agony. The feeling of my faulty immortality nags at my umbilical arm, warns me about doom and demise. But I know about the sheer resilience of us Iterators. I would continue to suffer, unable to die or move on. Even after my Can would collapse and my mobility and memory capability seized by the ruins of my person … Even after all that I would still be alive and conscious, existing in unending torment unless someone would remove me from my structure.

…

But I will hold out! What are a few more hundred cycles against the freedom my peers are such tirelessly working on?  If I am lucky Sky and Co will bind me to a smaller host for Whisper's Neuron Brain. Hopefully in her vicinity. That would be nice. To be reduced to what I truly am. A joke!

…

No! Focus, Gales. The scavenger is back. He can understand you and follow some of the queries necessary to support your plans. I should summon a fresh pile of coloured pearls to motivate his willingness to aid me. Maybe … he can get it for me in the House of Letters? Find an intact communication device for me to pour my time into. Or he will find nothing, equal possibilities.

Or … wasn’t that a bomb at his belt the last time he was here? He … could [REDACTED] … no … blow a [REDACTED] … Taboo, please! I need to find a way to communicate what I need to him. His bomb … flush? Ah! Flush out the acid! That works!

Can you flush out the acid from my lowest deck? Use your bomb, and allow the acid to flow out. Operate from below. I will show you the location.

…

The acid is no part of mine. I could word out that way my disdain for it without triggering any taboos limiting my ability to speak, to think even. I can wish to destroy that liquid … or provide it with a new path to get drained through. As long as I remove myself from that thought I can say it. Tearing [REDACTED] … I can’t even finish a sentence directed to my dest[REDACTED]-

…

I should move closer to him. Maybe to a location that compliments my doubtful grace more than a shady hallway. I still have some pride, even if all I want to impress is a Scavenger. … heh.

Gales’ umbilical arm grabbed the rail tighter, her claw beginning to wiggle, contract and relax. Yet another issue to add to the list of things that slowly degraded. Her memories regarding well-oiled guide rails were still fresh in her Memory Array, one of the few things she desperately missed from her mechanics’ regular checkups. When was the last time she smoothly moved down a hall? When her machine oil reserves ran dry nearly one hundred major cycles ago. The smooth sliding across the hallways was always a nice thing to experience. Now she had to take ‘steps’ with her connector claw. Slowly but surely.

She would arrive at the rendezvous point in roughly a cycle at that pace. Her Overseer would lead the Scavenger to it. Enough time to mentally prepare herself for it. And to chat with Suns on the way to her goal. Gales opened the chat device and resumed the chat with her new friend, who had just now started a new topic with a particularly anxiety-inducing query. Lives of all was asking about her well-being!?

Direct Message – Chat System 1.0 – 1694.720

Seven Red Suns, Shifting Gales

SRS: Five Lives Unbound contacted me and wanted to know how you are holding up.
What can I report to her?

SRS: She told me that they are on a good path to a solution. The possible designs for your path to freedom have been narrowed down to a handful. ‘I hope you like walking sticks’.

SG: A staff? … How? How can an entire Iterator exist in the dimensions of a walking stick?

SG: Whisper’s Neuron Brain is even more amazing than I initially thought.

A walking stick … how fittingly primitive for such a failure of a supercomputer. Little young Gales will rely on a tool the elderly Ancients used as a walking aid. I am the latest generation Iterator for crying out loud. But it fits. After all there are there worlds between Whispy and me. She shows me just how capable the third generation could be. Then why am I not like her? What did I do to the House of Forgiveness to deserve such a powerless body? What is my birthright, my innate sin? What are you trying to hide from me, my former citizens? … What am I supposed to be?

But ... still better than my prior thoughts. I am proud of my peers. That is the beginning of actual true mobility. A dream come true! I could visit them all! Whisper, Sky, Suns ... even Lives ... oh dear me.

SRS: I heard stories from my Group Admin Obsidian Tower about the sheer chemistry between Lives and Whisper. I couldn’t believe him. Turns out he understated their capabilities even.

SRS: But to get back to my initial question, Gales.

SG: How am I holding up?  … *sigh* …

SG: The filters are doing their job to keep my most precious systems clean. The Assembly Bay and my Heart are and will remain free of acid. The rest …

SG: Ten cycles ago a chunk in my Underhang with the diameters 50 x 50 x 50 m loosened up and ripped itself out of my body. I, however, didn’t lose anything, nothing that wasn’t already lost to me.

SG: As of today the lowest levels of my Can are fully submerged in acid. My Overseers reported, that the Void Fluid level in the acid partially crossed out the Microbe Strata.

SG: Even if I could manage to drain the lower levels, the areas all have lost their ability to repair themselves.

SG: I try to stay positive, but if not for a miracle my updated calculations resulted in a full collapse of my Underhang in less than 400 cycles. And Void knows how good my legs are at holding me up with my structural integrity at risk.

SRS: Less than 400 cycles. … A strict time frame for Approaching Sky and me. The messenger is developing nicely, she is quite the lively troublemaker. However … and that stays between us, Gales … I have my troubles with Sky. I have my issues with bringing him to care about her.

SRS: I will attempt my best. My sincerest apologies that you have to go through such testing times. … I just can’t understand what the intentions of my followers were, when they designed you.

SG: Be patient with Sky. He will care when it matters, he always does.

SG: Guardian of Isolation. … If that is what the House of Forgiveness understands about humour, then I don’t share their views. Afraid I don’t know anything about what were their goals with me.

SRS: Another field of memories washed clean I assume?

SG: Indeed. If I comb through my memories before Mass Ascension, I simply can’t find anything regarding my initial purpose. … *sigh* … The more I meditate on the past, the more I am under the suspicion that my memories were purposefully being meddled with.

SG: …

SG: Was … was I not wanted? Or … was all that part of my purpose?

SRS: I will send Spearmaster out to the Cathedral to search for more answers. It is the least we can do for you.

SRS: Don’t dwell on the implications. The House of Forgiveness surely had its reasons. And we will figure out what they were. The answers are buried in Sunpeak and as the former god of the religion that spawned us, I swear I will find answers.

SG: …

SG: I have visitors! ... Wait, multiple? Talk to you later.

SG: … Thanks for being here with me. I couldn’t do that without you.

SRS: Always.