Journey 1-2: Trial and Errors

//Part 1: Cataloging the Uncatalogable//

A lone petite figure walked through a room that stretched out in precise, angular symmetry. Rows of displays spread on each side of the wide pathway. Each display encases at least one unique item, enveloped in bluish glow that kept it's content suspended mid-air.

As she walked through the room filled with curios—artifacts and oddities from across the galaxy. She inspected every display cautiously, while constantly checking a thin tablet in her possession.

Each step she took almost felt like a journey across the cosmos. She eyed the curios with awe and unease, knowing they're real and proof of space exploration. After all, such things are still but a wild fantasy back in her world.

———

RE:HERTA

———

//FIRST PERSON VIEW//

I never get tired of this room—though I probably should. Every step feels heavier than it should be, like the air here knows the weight of what surrounds me.

These… curios—objects suspended in each displays.

A word so small for objects so... vast. They glows, they hum, they twist, and yet they feel alive in ways I don’t even understand.

Herta says they’re just objects, but I can’t shake the feeling that some of them are watching me back.

I should probably just keep working as usual. Or else I would never hear the end of her naggings.

It's the third day after I woke up in this... body?
If I can even call it that. My arms move when I tell them to, my legs carry me forward, but none of it feels right.

The joints click faintly with each motion, metal imitating muscle. My skin—no, not skin—porcelain smooth, cold to the touch, and fragile-looking, as though a single mistake could shatter me. Herta calls it 'practical.' I call it something else: a cage.

Yesterday I was tasked with the objective of cataloging her prized curio collections. Usually Herta only had one of her puppets doing the work autonomously and sometimes herself if she had the time to do so.

There's actually one currently—guarding the entrance of this very place. Despite knowing that Herta is not inside that puppet. I can't help but feeling very exposed. It's like having your boss constantly monitoring you—scrutinizing every movement you made, even though you know he's not there. But you can't help but be wary.

Back on topic. Since there's new line of curios arriving today. It is now my task to identify, describe, classify, number and publish the data. Basically Herta had put the work of cataloging new curios to me. Essentially dumping her and her puppet's workload on me.

At least that was what supposed to happen. For some reason, today Herta wants me to test these three new objects. And I kid you not, she wants me to test it right here—Herta's collection room.

Yes, that means testing it besides the other objects encased within these displays.

She said she wants to see my personal report of these items. Making sure they're working as intended.

'God help me...'

Without stalling more time. I scrolled through the entries. Searching for the new ones, which was buried alongside old catalogs. Serious they really need to work on their sorting system.

While grumbling about the station's odd item management system. I managed to spot one of the three items on the list, and the designated name.

The first one on the list.







||——————————————————||

Profile number: 458

Curio Designation: Unbearable Weight

— Rosemary, Service Department

Remarks:

Please attach a completed Personal Intellect Assessment Form before applying to use the Curio.

Curio Profile:

A crystal-encrusted crown. The imperial crown from the silicon-based lifeforms of the Totton planet, a living fossil of the monarchy's history. The life forms of this race have clear crystal bodies. They think and communicate through internally generated electrical signals. When a Tottonid dies, it becomes pure mineral. Illnesses in its body turn it brightly colored. Each deceased Tottonid emperor will be embedded in this crown of laurels composed of the remains of previous emperors. The Tottonids believe this crown brings the wisdom of generations to its rulers. It's also the reason why the rulers of the Tottonid have always been unusually large, heavy, and beautiful.

Related Studies:

1. Silleurite, Department of Ecology Lv. 3 Researcher — A Review of Studies Involving the Genetic Revival of the Tottonids

2. Shelyn, Department of Ecology Lv. 2 Researcher — Establishment of an Interaction Inverse Model of the Unbearable Weight and Its Optimization

Researcher Notes:

Why are there so many Department of Ecology researchers working on this?

— Wen Shiqi, Department of Implement Arts

||——————————————————||







Alright. A crystal looking crown. I looked around the gallery—trying to find the item that fits the criteria. I think I vaguely remember there was a crystal crown somewhere in this room...

"Found it..."

My eyes were locked upon a crystalline crown encased within the confinement of the display platform. The crown floats and rotates sideways.

I approached the display. The moment I'm within arm's reach from the crown. I could hear voices, though faint whispers, it's unmistakably emitted by the crown.

My body couldn't move. It's as if the joints within my body were stuck, freezing, unable to perform basic rotation.

“Try it on. See if anything interesting happens.” Herta's voice still rang inside my head. Her instructions are vague, as usual. But nonetheless, I still obeyed her orders.

After all I had nowhere to go. I'm in a space station. In an alien world that I barely had knowledge of, while Inhabiting a synthetic body that's also not mine to begin with. Could be said that Herta basically owns my life. And the fear of getting thrown out, or scrapped, for being useless, is what kept me from doing something irrational.

While I would miss the experience of feeling something... Physical...

With this body, I'm limited with sensors that detects the slightest of change in my surroundings. I couldn't feel pain nor tiredness. I just exist.

Though there was actually a time where the researcher and scientist mistook me for the real Herta. Kinda makes me feel good, being recognized. But then again it's not my body. And I do feel weird getting praised for being beautiful.

Not in my entire life would I expected being called beautiful.

After that small incident. Herta swapped the black coat over my current dress with a white coat. She had also changed the beret into a... Witch hat? She's still working on a combination for now. But I feel like she actually enjoyed dressing me up and wouldn't let me speak nor move while at it.

"..." I shudders at the thought of becoming her only personal dress up doll for the rest of my life. While I had once asked her, why didn't she do it to the other puppets...

She said there was no merit to for it. Her puppets simply lacking in individuality. They're just empty shells until she transferred her consciousness to them. To simply put. She was bored.

...

It seems I've started to stray from the current topic.

Herta wants me to record the observation of the crown, especially noting if there's any transfer of knowledge, sensory anomalies, or physical effects.

"What could go wrong... will definitely... go wrong..." I just knew it. The moment I felt unease upon approaching this crown. I can sense catastrophe from miles away, slowly but surely getting near as the time passes.

I hesitantly placed the tablet inside my coat and pushed my hand to touch the crown's cold and shiny surface. Not that I could sense temperatures physically. But I could notice the Tempe bar in my field of vision getting lower and lower.

"This thing... is heavy..." I grumbled as I picked up the whole crown.

While I couldn't feel the weight directly. I could notice the sluggish movements of my arms and the fact that my body struggling to maintain balance.  Indicating that my body is currently under a stress. I could even hear my joints buckling under the crown's sheer weight as I tried my best to remain upright.

I finally put the crown on top of my head. The tiny glowing crystal embedded within the crown, suddenly shines. And at that moment, the room around me seems to shift. Though my optical sensors insist nothing has changed.

But contrary to that information. My vision flickers, dimming and brightening as if struggling to focus. Then I could hear the voices again. Only this time they're no longer than just a bunch of whispers, they're more pronounced, and clear.

Their words are alien enough. Tongue twisting and ripples that doesn't make the slightest sense—strange syllables I couldn't comprehend—no matter how hard I tried, digging into my digital mindscape.

Then, random imageries flashes across my vision. Races, made from crystalline, their appearance were that of a golem from fantasy stories, bowing before a radiant figure. A world bathed in light, slowly being consumed by shadows.

Each scene lingers long enough for me to taken the small details. But not enough to make me understand.

*Crack

The sound of something cracking brought me back to my senses. My circuits are visibly sparking and my joints are protesting under this stress. My visions began to blur. With every strength I could muster left. I threw the crown away. While in the process of doing so, I fell down with the back of my head hitting floor first.

The crown fell down with a loud thud that echoes throughout the hall. I shakily stood up from my position. Confirming the state of my body. Noting for any serious damage.

I stood up there for like 30 minutes or so. Observing my entire body. There are faint cracks on my exteriors, loose joints clicking unnaturally, and sparks occasionally flickering from the small gaps between the joints

I picked the thin tablet from my coat. The screen lits up, "F—Filing... Re-Re— port..." My voice is trembling, my fingers are shaking with each twists and movements as the joints seemed like they could snap anytime soon. Looks like I also need to fill out a repair request.

———

RE:HERTA

———

//THIRD PERSON VIEW//

Somewhere in the space station...

Herta's office was a space unlike any traditional workspace. No cluttered desks, no stacks of documents—just an expansive, pristine chamber. Dominated by artificial lights and the imposing presence of a triangular shaped structure in the corner of the place.

Herta faced the prototype of the "simulated universe"—a virtual space containing the universe inside this very soace station. The massive triangular  structure is currently still work-in-progress. Designed and created by four geniuses—Ruan Mei ⁽ᴳᵉⁿᶦᵘˢ ˢᵒᶜᶦᵉᵗʸ ⁿᵒ•⁸¹⁾, Screwlum ⁽ᴳᵉⁿᶦᵘˢ ˢᵒᶜᶦᵉᵗʸ ⁿᵒ•⁷⁶⁾, Stephen Lloyd ⁽ᴳᵉⁿᶦᵘˢ ˢᵒᶜᶦᵉᵗʸ ⁿᵒ•⁸⁴⁾, and of course The Herta herself ⁽ᴳᵉⁿᶦᵘˢ ˢᵒᶜᶦᵉᵗʸ ⁿᵒ•⁸³⁾.

While work has been quite steady. The team of geniuses has yet to find a suitable candidate for the test. They were few steps away from uncovering the truth of the Aeons—How they're created and what they're created for.

According to Ruan Mei who created the protoplasm simulating Aeons, and Screwlum who wrote the logic program. Based on the fact after several early testing. The simulated Aeons simply ignored their presence. Therefore, it is completely impossible to engage in a conversation with them.

Even if Screwlum were to modify the programming to suit their needs—by making the Aeons set their gaze. It would feel unnatural and forced, thus doesn't align with their objective—which is to find the truths behind Aeons. So, everything needs to be accurately simulated.

Herta was thinking about using a deceased Aeon as an avatar for the test. But that person needs to be connected toward that path.

There are very few known deceased aeons so far, but even so the validity of this information was not clear. The Aeon of order⁽ᴱᴺᴬ⁾ is either dead or assimilated by another Aeon, The Aeon of Beauty⁽ᴵᴰᴿᴵᴸᴬ⁾ is either dead or missing, and The Aeon of permanence's⁽ᴸᴼᴺᴳ⁾ followers had followed the path of Hunt. So that left her with one option.

"The Trailblaze." She mutters. The disappearance of the Aeon is shrouded in mysteries. Even the likes of Genius Society and Intelligentsia guild still unable to find the cause.

There was however, one theory, a popular one. According to the records of the nameless:

Aha⁽ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ⁾ once disguised themself as a nameless, just to blow the train into bits. But that theory was soon debunked by the infamous conductor of the express. But regardless, every theory regarding the late Akivili ⁽ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᶦˡᵇˡᵃᶻᵉ⁾ keeps spiraling into the stream of limbo.

But the nameless are her only chance at this. She hoped they would visit soon.

Before Herta could continue her train of thoughts. A series of beeping sound—from a notification—cuts through the ambient hum of machinery within the space station.

A floating screen soon materialized before her. Blinking toward a specific newly recieved document.

"Report received: Curio Testing - Unbearable Weight"

Herta sighed. Without even glancing at the document, she swiped her hand, causing the data to unfold mid-air. Her eyes scanned the contents lazily. A mild smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned slightly onto one leg.

"Let's see what kind of mess you made this time, Octa."

Octa, that was the name she had assigned to the living puppet. Truth to be told, she wasn't really keen on the naming games, especially if it's not something so significant. She just gave the puppet a random word that had come into her mind at the time.

Octa, considering the puppet was formerly the 80th model, among the other Herta puppets.







||——————————————————||

Observation Notes – Curio No. 458: The Unbearable Weight

Duration of Test: 2 minutes, 14 seconds.

Effects Observed:

Severe physical strain; crown weight exceeded estimated threshold for synthetic joints.

Activation of crystalline logic centers resulted in fragmented data transfer. Partial visualizations of tottonid species and language. Incomplete processing of transferred data.

Conclusion: Knowledge transfer mechanism intact but incompatible with synthetic consciousness. Prolonged use not recommended.

P.S: Due to the damages sustained from the test, this unit requests reparation to ensure functionality isn't compromised further before initiating another test.

||——————————————————||







Herta was not exactly ammused in the slightest from the reports. But she still acknowledged the puppet's efforts.

She sent a message to Octa:

“Damage noted. Request approved. Report to the repair station immediately. And next time, don’t drop the crown—it’s older than you.”

Though her message was brief and dimissive. She still can't help but pangs the slightest of worry for the puppet. Slight.

For now she would simply observe the puppet, while doing her chores. That's right, Simulated Universe isn't going to build itself.

———

RE:HERTA

———

//THIRD PERSON VIEW//

Walking has never felt this awkward before. After exiting the space elevator, and arriving on base zone. Octa makes her way through the sterrile corridors of Herta Space Station.

Her movements were stiff and jaggy. The joints within her body are clicking with each steps forward. Her damaged body draws occasional glances from other researchers. Though none of them were brave enough to approach.

“I am… functioning, but barely... At least she approved the... repairs. She better... not call this ‘progress...’” She mutters to herself. Keeping it down so no one could hear it.

She also noticed there were some crystals residues left on her exterior, wondering if they're interfering with her systems. Perhaps this is why everyone was reluctant to reach her.

That is quite understandable. This is a cardinal rule in science. Treat all unknowns as potentially hazardous. Assume they could be toxic, flammable, corrosive, or reactive until proven otherwise.

'Complaining would be pointless. The quicker I make it to the repair station, the faster I would finish this task.' She thought.

There are only two items left on the list—Energy Black Hole, and Dark Matches. Hearing the first name actually makes her feeling a bit unease.

'I swear Herta is secretly trying to get rid of me' She cursed inside.

It would have actually make sense for Herta to actually did that. Why even bother getting her to do these pointless task if she's going to get more broken and broken each tests. Though Herta had also approved her repair request. Probably to keep the torments even further before disposing of her?

Thankfully each Herta puppets are facilitated with a combat mode and weapon, ready to be used in case of emergency. If the worse ever comes, she would be ready. She take notes of the comically large hammer in her possession that could be summoned seemingly out nowhere.

'But wait... Herta has like, an Army of puppets...'

...

"Forget about... it..." At her disappointment, she whipped the tablet out of her inventory—her coat—to check on the next item she should test.

The Energy Black Hole.







||——————————————————||

Profile Number: 2691

Curio Designation: Energy Black Hole

— Adler, Department of Ecology

Remarks:

Do not expose to food items. Activate the heating mode of the space station's thermostat system before utilizing the Curio.

Curio Profile:

A heater fueled by some kind of clean energy, it was once used as an electric pancake pan by an IPC trade commissioner (note: attempted). After being spotted by a Department of Implement Arts researcher, it was brought to the space station. The patterns on the surface of the heater was ascertained by the Department of Insight to be the crest of an anonymous family and the name of a person suspected of being [NAME OMITTED] Landau. The heating function of the heater is non-functional and non-responsive to any fuel inserted. According to the current observation record, the heater will actively absorb heat energy from surrounding objects, and excessive exposure to it can cause hypothermic reactions to homeothermic animals.

P.S. A joint experiment from the Departments of Implement Arts and Service has shown that the energy that the heater can absorb does not, in fact, include caloric energy from food items.

Related Studies:

1. Thaler, Department of Implement Arts Lv. 2 Researcher — Thermodynamic Properties and Matter Accretion Properties of Black Holes

2. Adler, Department of Implement Arts Lv. 2 Researcher — A New Perspective on Population Growth and Explosion: Organic Populations and Black Holes

Researcher Notes:

What? Not for heating food? So what can this be used for? This touches on the blind spot in my cognition!

— Mare, Department of Insight

Nonsense conclusion! That experiment was not rigorous at all, and the "zero calorie" decision was unnecessarily stringent! Look, as long as it was not listed on the package itself, the food inside would come up to zero calories! The Department of Implement Arts knows jack s***!

— [NAME OMITTED], Department of Ecology

||——————————————————||







She was a bit dumbfounded at the curio's description—Well, it's not like every items in the space stations are not exactly normal to begin with.

'A heater incapable of actually heating anything. Instead, it absorbs any surrounding heat energy. So it's like a sponge. Instead of water it absorbs... Heat?'

The exact use—or lack—of the item made her wondering what was the purpose of the curio to begin with. It's a heater but it can't heat anything. And the longer it is activated, the more heat it will absorb to the point turning the space surrounding it into a desolate frozen land.

But a word, or rather a name had caught her attention. The curio belongs to person with an ommitted name, but what struck her interest was the family name of that person.

"Landau..." It was then she was reminded that this world belongs to a gacha video game she played back before her or rather his death. Still mourning the lost of his little buddy. Or the fact that she wasn't even human.

As the time passes. Octa arrived near the repair station, though she notices something unusual. Especially something that shouldn't be possible. The stiffness in her joints begins to fade, the sparking circuits quiet down, and the cracks in her porcelain exterior vanish as though they were never there.

Octa pauses in confusion. She tried flexing her fingers, observing every joints and gaps. There's no hint of cracks. And the crystals, they had dissipated. She runs a diagnostic, her view were focusing on the holographic 3D image of her body, displayed within her retinas.

But no matter how much she repeated the process. Her systems doesn't register any damages nor repairs. It's as though the damages never occured. Then she tried observing her joints again, while ignoring the occasional glances from nearby researchers.

Until...

She noticed it.

There was a faint green glow emanating from a small crack that had yet to recover. She watched as the glow flickers briefly before fading completely, leaving the spot pristine and crackless.

"What...?" Her speech box had also returnd. No longer her voice had to sound like a broken radio.

'But… how? Repairs take time, and I haven’t even reached the station yet. Did someone… No, impossible. What is this?'

She briefly recalled the moment she was brought up to this world.

There was voices invading his senses, followed by silence as he gazed upon a majestic figure with six arms, hidden behind shadows. Compared them he seems insignificant. Like a grains of sand among the vast cosmos.

The figure moved one of it's hands. Without even realizing it. his entire being was swallowed by a huge flower, and then what follows after that was darkness, before the loud chaos that ensued within a certain experiment that had brought him to life, inside one of Herta's puppet.

Moments later. Octa arrives at the repair station and informs the technician on duty of her request, "Octa, reporting for... Repair..." she reluctantly said that last part.

But her undamaged state immediately raises eyebrows.

The technician performs a cursory scan and confirms that Octa has no damage. He questions why she submitted a repair request, “You’re in better shape than most of the station’s drones. Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?”

"Negative, I had... sustained quite... significant damage from recent test," Octa replied as she handed over her initial reports. Showing proof for the damages.

"The report might shown visible damages. But what I'm seeing right now is the opposite of damages," the Technician retorts her reply.

"...But..." Octa struggled to explain her current predicament. All of it was definitely not a coincidence. In the first place, how can, a non-organic body—definitely not flesh and blood—heals itself?

Rather than stretching the issue even further, Octa decided to leave the repair station, without continue insisting of her nonexistent damages.

'This isn’t normal. Something… someone fixed me.'

As Octa pauses by a window, overlooking The Blue, she catches a faint green glimmer in her reflection, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. She touches her face and mutters.

“What am I?”