LIGHTNOVELONLINE 223 – Memoria
It was at this point that a door in an alcove swung open, and Casus stepped out. Only, the moment he fell into Krahe’s line of sight, his clothes flickered and changed, adapting to her mental image of how he would look in the fashion of Sector 9 — more specifically, a stereotypical Sector 9 street-samurai. A great big armored coat, retro-techwear pants, ballistic vest, the whole lot. The Banisher took a step towards her and opened his mouth, but froze in place when he realized what had happened to him, looking himself over. He immediately turned towards one of the displays to see his own reflection.
“This is how I appear to you?” he questioned, taken aback.
“How you would look if you were from here,” Krahe corrected, approaching. She looked at Casus’ reflection for a few moments, then glanced up at him. “Let me make two guesses. Guess one: I am being operated on, and this is somehow a consequence of total anesthesia, similar to the hallucinations induced during my spine replacement. Guess two: This is the real side effect of the Molting Tonic and I’m stuck like this for the time being, presumably while my comatose body is held in a church facility.”
He did a double-take, briefly meeting her gaze, looking back at his reflection for a moment, then finally meeting her gaze properly.
“Both are… Somewhat correct. High Grafter Fidelia has taken it upon herself to discern the extent and exact nature of the damage, and to rectify it in a minimal manner so that you can choose how to proceed when you wake up. As for…” Casus gestured vaguely at his surroundings. “...this, it is a consequence of the Molting Tonic’s side effects. You likely noticed that the tonic counteracts functionally the analgesic effects of nearly all substances, including those produced by your own body. This is an alternative.”
“Care to elaborate on the sequence of events since the raid? As I recall, you were unconscious when I dragged you out of there.”
“I am afraid I do not know much more than you. Our inquisitor friend, Yazata Heptaxia, retrieved the both of us, and High Grafter Fidelia took over from there. It seems, before you fell unconscious, you used the Liminal Coil to send Fidelia a locational ping. Presently, we are located in a subterranean temple-compound.”
Casus raised his right arm, looking it over. The change of fashion had also entailed a new right arm — a hard-shelled full-synthetic, covered in decals that described every joint and access panel. For a time, a certain subset of Sector 9’s paramilitary sector had been overrun with this trend of imitating the design language of objects intended to be readable to automatic-recognition cameras found on maintenance drones and smart-glasses. A snapshot from the sector’s zeitgeist.
“Interesting. I half-expected to appear without a right arm, considering I am devoid of it at the moment,” said the Banisher. He stopped, looking Krahe up and down, furrowing his brow. Before he could say any more, Krahe glanced into the display once again. It took a few moments for what she saw to click in her head — her appearance had shifted to match how she had looked during the time from which this street and Casus’ clothes were drawn. She now wore an armored jacket over a full upper-body skinsuit, emblazoned with the manufacturing code above the left clavicle. These were joined by dangerously short shorts, thigh-highs of the same material as the skinsuit, and knee-high boots ripped off of a Neptunian Dawn Street Cleaner Mk. XXVIII combat armor. It achieved near-total coverage, while evoking an appearance of the opposite, in no small part due to the skinsuit living up to its name — not in colour, but in fit. Perhaps only the biosuit matched this specific article in how closely it conformed to her body.
Despite her clothes going back in time, she remained devoid of cybernetics.
“Haven’t seen myself like this. The outfit, but no grafts,” she remarked, thinking no more of it as she turned to Casus. “Alright, what now? Just wait?”
The Banisher shook his head.
“You must continue onward until the exit presents itself. That is the only instruction the High Grafter has given me to pass onto you. It’s funny, I was in fact sent in to make you aware of the situation, lest you become lost in the construct, but you were already on your way out when I made my entry,” he said.
“Nothing to do but go deeper, then,” Krahe shrugged as she began to walk. Casus followed without a word, his attention eaten-up by the scenery. Tangled, narrow alleys continued for some time, before abruptly opening up to a truly sprawling vista — it was a subterranean hollow containing an entire city within its confines. A forest of monumental pillars stretched out into the distance, seemingly supporting the cave ceiling. They were dotted with tiny lights. Krahe knew that most of them were fake, near completely solid, with only an outermost layer of habitable space, but that didn’t lessen the impact of this vista. Not back then, and not now. The space was vast enough to have its own miniature weather system, clouds lingering near the cave ceiling and diffusing the light of monstrously powerful lamps into a dreary approximation of eternal moonlit night.
The spot they emerged was a hovercraft landing and service area, and the spot where the corridor connected had been, in reality, the entrance to a large tunnel. They both took in the sight for some time, both for their own reasons. Krahe interrupted Casus’ sightseeing by approaching one of the parked hovercars. She simply opened the door, and a small voice inside her groaned in disappointment that she wouldn’t get to flex her extensive knowledge on the security flaws of these vehicles.
“I must ask… How close is this to reality?” Casus questioned when he caught up to her.
“Close enough,” Krahe shrugged. “The real Sector Eight wasn’t deserted, for one — the air and ground were both swarming at all times. The city was smaller, too. This one looks to go on forever, hell it probably will if I let it. Come on, get in.”
“Do you have a particular destination in mind?” Casus asked.
“Of course. Not every day I get to take a literal walk down memory lane. Might as well make the most of this.”
