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(Untitled)
testing... testing... -
(Untitled)
Phong pauses in setting up the med-scanner and stares at the couple. "Truly? Are you certain?" -
(Untitled)
The door to the Command.COM's office slides open, and a null wriggles through. "Princess? Got a moment?" -
4.04: Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Word.
There's a tiny hourglass on a choker around Daemon's neck. It's always been there. At the moment she was first compiled, the sand was all in the top half of the glass, and it's been slowly draining through ever since ( Read more... ) -
4.04: Time for some thrilling heroics.
The Mainframe populace go about their business as usual, if disturbingly cheerfully. The air is filled with cars and zipboards, not CPUs and tanks.
Everything's quiet, more or less.
Of course, given the group that's just coming in from Milliways, that's not liable to last long. -
4.04: Touched by a virus.
The task that Daemon lays out for Mouse and YT is simple enough: allow the Word to spread to its fullest extent. To that end, YT is sent off into the 'Net carrying a list of IP addresses and a copy of Mouse's encryption codes.
One by one, YT visits the systems Mouse has firewalled off. One by one, the firewalls drop, allowing the Word to spread to ( Read more... ) -
4.03: A child psychiatrist's lot is not a happy one.
*tak*tik*tak*tik*tak*tik*tak*tik*
Newton's Cradle desk ornaments are supposed to be calming. Phong has placed his directly in the child's line of sight, in hopes that this really is effective. Certainly, nothing else has worked in that regard ( Read more... ) -
4.03: Time keeps on slippin'.
On the far side of Mainframe's firewall, a small group of Guardians are getting very, very frustrated ( Read more... ) -
4.02: I have finally found a place to live, in the presence of the Word.
System Clapton is a communications hub, picking up and rebroadcasting signals from all over the 'Net. The city's layout is spherical, with layers built up around the system's power source rather than merely above it. From the outside, it appears to be a metallic orb bristling with radar dishes; closer inspection will reveal various maintenance rigs ( Read more... ) -
4.02: Praise the Word and pass the ammunition.
All is peaceful in the Supercomputer's Clockspeed Room. Daemon sits on her throne, flanked by her masked attendants, and her disciples stand before her.
...but where's that organ music coming from?