Chapter 24: Technicality [7]
A vast, empty canvas of a wall stretched before her, broken only by scattered patches of rough texture sprawling in seemingly random paths. Estelle followed them with her gaze, tilting her head back until she was staring straight up. She had expected something different—hoped for it, even. But there were no circles, no geometric black lines, none of the intricate patterns that gave the Trigon Sphere Hall its distinct, almost mystical aesthetic woven into the alien atmosphere, not here, not in this hall.
Estelle's mouth slightly dropped agape, eyes transfixed. She had seen this place before—first through a monitor, and now with her own eyes. But up close, the sheer scale of it struck her—far greater than she had imagined. It loomed, towering like skyscrapers hundreds of meters high.
Yet, despite its immensity, it felt plain. Mundane. Unfinished—like something she had once intended to complete but had long since forgotten. But the thought ended there. Something pushed back against it, a resistance so strong that the very idea of altering it felt wrong, stirring a quiet conflict within her.
She sighed, though there was a lingering smile on her lips. A thought surfaced. 'Damn… If only I could access my computer from here, I'd have that edited…' she paused. 'Holy hell—since when is Estelle this motivated to draw, write, and everything else? That's insane… I thought I was stuck, but now—'
Estelle abruptly turned on her heel, facing the vastness of the Control Center. The deep awareness settled in—a quiet contemplative ponder of her place in this world. Her heart pounded beneath her ribs, as she breathed in the cold air, taking in the sheer reality of her own creations. Her thoughts stirred again. 'This world… It's really fixing my fixations I thought were lost.'
Her gaze drifted downward—to the stretching bridge, the path she had crossed moments ago. She recalled thinking about what she wanted to do with the narrative, how she intended to shape her creator-character and its role in her story. But, like so many fleeting thoughts, they never quite settled into something definitive. That was understandable.
Her lips curved again. She muttered, "Damn, this world isn't letting me go," her smile widening—a rare, genuine expression.
Glancing left to right, seemingly nothing new to catch her eye, Estelle pivoted on her heel, her pleasant mood evident in her animated movements. Her hands clenched within the pockets of her laboratory gown, the downward pressure causing the fabric to pull taut across her shoulder blades. As she turned, her gaze was immediately caught by a familiar structure—the pedestals she had seen multiple times while crossing the bridge. Each had the same basic form: a base supporting a thin stem that forked into several branches at its head, with floating crystals of varying colors suspended above them. These pedestals stood in straight rows and columns, aligned parallel to the massive wall behind them.
A fleeting thought drifted into Estelle's mind, bringing her to a halt as she entertained it. 'What were these things again? I can't remember what they're supposed to be—but I do recall placing them all over the map. Some don't have those floating crystals… probably stolen by treasure hunters or mercenaries. As for the ones that are sealed… I suppose we can assume they still have theirs?'
She slightly tilted her head, trying to remember, but gave up when her thoughts went blank and the memories that surfaced weren't the images she was looking for. Before she knew it, her attention had already shifted, her feet carrying her toward the massive gate set into the stretching wall. It was the only feature that broke the plain surface—its glinting black arching frame seemed to grow from the wall itself, a maze of sharp geometric forms. Triangles, cubes, and crystalline spikes created an otherworldly texture across its frame, jutting out like frozen fractals that defied natural formation. The frame took the shape of an asymmetric rhombus, with a quarter of its size buried beneath the floor. At its center, the entrance piece presented an austere contrast—a seemingly plain surface marked by cryptic patterns, from which a smaller rhomboid plate protruded like a dormant control panel waiting to be awakened.
"Damn, I like that..." Estelle remarked. "I didn't notice before, but this looks like the administrator's gate, though the frames are shaped differently. This one is more..." Her words trailed into murmurs as she continued walking, her eyes never leaving the structure. "This one is smaller in comparison—still massive regardless. What is it, like 10 meters tall? The administrator's gate must be more than 15. And the bordering frames here are bigger, for some reason, and don't have the background wall pulsing green from time to time."
As the steps closed the gap between them, the gate's centerpiece suddenly cracked—disrupting the rhombus shape. Thin, jagged lines spread across the surface like lightning, and from these fractures, streaks of blue light burst forth in radiant rays. Her feet never paused, and the cracks multiplied, more luminescence escaping with each passing moment.
Suddenly, the surface erupted. Large rock fragments burst inward, drawn by a mystical force. Estelle watched, breath caught in her throat, as the fragments realigned themselves, blooming upward and inward to create a pathway that resembled a swirling vortex to another dimension. She had expected this spectacle, having seen it firsthand and through the computer's monitor, yet the gate's animated transformation never failed to captivate her. Its magic was just as mesmerizing now as it had been the first time she witnessed it.
Yet, as mesmerizing as the spectacle was, Estelle's attention quickly shifted to what lay beyond. A short passage led to three open walkways—an architectural layout that stirred a vague recollection in her mind. As with all designs, the most crucial aspect was its central focus. However, one thing that she noted with a fleeting glance: the side walkways led downward, sloping somewhere into the lower part of the gestation hall.
Humming, she pressed forward, her gaze darting between details more frequently than before. The flooring had reverted to the black surface material she had seen earlier, while the walkways stretched unnaturally wide—vast enough to accommodate two modern cars side by side, like the width of a modern street. Yet that wasn't the most striking feature.
What first caught her eye were the massive pillars—identical to the ones back in Trigon Sphere. Two of them flanked the center walkway, framing the view of the hall beyond. And there, as she had suspected, lay several protrusions in the ground—structures resembling assembly locks. Three in total, each formed by three jagged spikes, tilting slightly as if poised to open and lock devices that could be mounted.
"Holy damn, dude," Estelle muttered, her heart pounding loudly, prompting her to quicken her pace as if answering its excitement. "Damn."
As she moved forward, she noticed these assembly locks lined each side of the path—16 total, and if her memory served her correctly, they could also be found on the other pathways. Though a sense of unease settled in her mind. Something was missing from those protruding parts—of that, she was certain. After all, she had drawn concept art for these environments multiple times in the past, making her more familiar with the instincts of her memory than the precise details.
Her humming faded as she walked the central pathway between towering pillars. Though not as massive as those in the Trigon Sphere Hall, something about their design caught her eye—a subtle difference she couldn't quite place. Before she could puzzle it out, her steps carried her to the ledge. Looking down at the lower levels, her gaze settled on a circular container at the center of the space, reminiscent of an aquarium tank.
As one would expect, The containers were crafted from a crystal-like material, their surfaces perfectly transparent, revealing the green liquid within. If they had been occupied, she imagined they would have held flesh-like biomass suspended in the fluid, perhaps connected to the devices by tubular rods or tendrils. Studying them from above, she noticed the containers extended several meters below the floor, their bases and tops constructed of sleek, metallic gray material like steel or iron.
"They must be around eleven meters tall, with a diameter of six or seven," Estelle murmured, trying to recall the details. Just before looking away, she noticed familiar metallic clasps—similar to those she had seen at the entrance. "But the lighting… it's strange. Where is it coming from?"
Despite the question, her mind didn't linger on it. Instead, her attention shifted—her gaze falling upon the very thing occupying her thoughts. A metallic clasp lay directly before her as she walked. Yet, something was missing. She discovered a circular hollow crevice, three clasps evenly spaced around it, and several protruding beams suggesting movement—perhaps part of a pressure mechanism designed to lock something in place.
The view before her seemed to answer her unspoken questions: 'Yeah… These must be the multi-purpose containers—for storing bodies to harvest genes, or perhaps creating new ones. But not all of them serve the same function.'
Her fingertips twitched at her sides as she studied the layouts, unconsciously sketching invisible diagrams hidden within her pockets. Each gesture traced the potential flows between containers, modules, and clasps—a dance of possibilities her body seemed to understand before her mind fully grasped it.
Her gaze drifted again, seeking certainty in her physical surroundings. She needed to confirm these details weren't just assumptions drawn from hints and understanding, nor fabrications from her fragmented memories of designing this environment. After all, this place was one of the most elaborated spaces she had created for the ship. She remembered returning to it repeatedly in her software—it should have been the most familiar to her. Every element had been deliberately crafted to establish the golden standard design for this race, a foundational blueprint that would influence how she—or from the perspective of the architect race—would create their themed domains.
Ahead of her, the assembly locks lining the paths stood emptier than she was used to seeing in her renders. At the center of the hall where the paths converged, she expected to find a main terminal, just as the Trigon Sphere Hall had one. But before she could question its absence, her eyes had already shifted, searching for answers to her earlier questions.
There, on another path extending from the center to the right, she discovered one of the circular tubes. As she had hoped, these weren't like the container pods meant for flesh creatures, but rather modular capsules—their bodies made of full gray material like iron rather than glass, surfaces patterned with intricate dribbling that created an alien aesthetic, enhanced by pulsing green light within the cracks.
"Ah, there it is." A smile replaced her searching gaze, her expression softening. Her steps became slow and deliberate, each movement felt tracing a certain angles that she used to plot cameras within her software. "So I was right. These are the modules, aren't they? I remember thinking about how I wanted to build this room—everything the architects needed had to be here, though that would greatly increase its size. So these were the solutions..."
She studied the clasps. "Those modules can be placed in these clasps, and the system will register them. Then, they can do whatever they want with it. If containers have flesh, modules can be built as gene storage, and another container for reconstructing new experimental bodies. It may appear compact comparatively to their grandest creation, but... it's enough—fitting— for infinite variants of any type of gestation."
Standing in this hall, Estelle was certain now of what her past self had intended. She had wanted to make efficient use of these massive halls and rooms, designing them to be as multipurpose as possible. The Trigon Sphere Hall had its central Nous Crux Pattern Sphere, serving as both the central processing unit for all Architect devices and housing the administrator's private domains, with sarcophagi halls filling the upper levels. The Control Center displayed the grand culmination of their architectural intricacies, with massive storage units flowing through designated spaces to create mystical landscapes of impossible geometric shapes. Her movements stilled completely, only her eyes darting between components as these connections crystallized in her mind.
There are countless ways biological creatures can evolve—too many for any mortal imagination to comprehend, even accounting for the rarest coincidences. Life finds a way even in the most extreme conditions, she knew, in the depths of the earth, thousands of meters beneath the crust. Yet that limitless potential would have constrained the Architects' capabilities—or rather, most designs would have failed to showcase their true technological excellence. It might have seemed demeaning, however with this design—
Estelle suddenly halted, her previous restless energy crystallizing into something more focused, more certain. She turned on her heel, but this time it wasn't the eager pivot of discovery—it was the measured turn of someone seeing their creation with new eyes. Her gaze softened, taking in the whole rather than the details that had captured her attention before.
'Damn... I am good,' she praised internally, corners of her lips twisting into a grin.
If praise could drown, she would have met her end right there, laid to rest with the epitaph 'death by narcissism.' Estelle giggled, her lips pressing together to contain her laughter. 'It's not even that funny. Why am I laughing at that?'
A strange movement in the distance caught her eye. Estelle's head snapped toward it, watching as the walls moved—it seemed to breathe.
"Oh?" she muttered unconsciously.
What she had taken for walls weren't walls at all. Made of varying metallic hues, they were actually massive mechanical slabs that moved in an undulating pattern, drawing a confused "huh" from her lips as she tilted her head to observe them. Each slab stood vertically, tall and narrow, separated by several inches of space. Together, they created a wavelike motion that reminded her of the acoustic panels in concert halls, though these were strangely misshapen in comparison. The slabs followed a random rhythm, and when they protrude forward, their surfaces caught and reflected the green light emanating from hidden strips both above and below that mark the passages.
Estelle's mouth fell open, eyes widening. She unconsciously tried to raise her fingers—but found them trapped within the pockets of her long white gown, pulling the fabric taut. The sensation brought her attention back. With deliberate flex, she freed her hands, bringing them to her cheeks, which had grown sore from smiling—numb from muscles unused to such exercise.
She giggled again, one hand trembling as it clenched. "Damn..." She shook her head as if trying to dispel the mounting excitement coursing through her body. "Damn, damn," she repeated, her words tumbling out. "That makes sense—pattern, frequency, and this place being either the birthplace of another Architect made by another architect, or a different race entirely. It really feels like something an Architect would make. For something so important—birth and creation of body, I feel like this is the best way I could have made it."
She slid a step behind the other. Her steps faltered—suddenly finding nothing beneath her foot. Gravity pulled at her body back as panic surged through her, hands reaching frantically as her feet shuffled—managing to find solid ground just as she stumbled. Her heart pounded in her chest, breathing hitched. 'Oh dear, what the hell am I doing?'
As her nerves settled along with her breath, she examined where she had nearly fallen—a small ledge that offered no stable footing. Tracing the edge, only to discover she had stumbled into a circular hollow. "Oh?" Another gasp escaped her as understanding dawned. "Is this...?" Her words trailed off as she looked to either side—extending paths stretched both left and right.
"I'm at the cen—" The conclusion formed on her lips, but before she could finish, the ground rumbled beneath her, shaking as if struck by an earthquake. 'What!?' Estelle's eyes widened in shock as the floor around the circular ledge began to darken—not like a shadow, but as if the stone itself was bleeding ink. The blackness spread in veins, then pools, consuming the surface in a widening circle around her.
Then it began to rise.
The darkness peeled itself from the floor, viscous tendrils writhing upward like an Architect's limb. They twisted above her head, forming an unstable dome of undulating black liquid as if it had been a trap to capture creatures like her. Estelle shuddered, watching with trembling eyes as the surface rippled and bulged, sprouting angular growths that jutted out like crystalline tumors before collapsing back into the mass. Each transformation brought new horrors—geometric shapes that shouldn't exist in three-dimensional space, fractal patterns that hurt her eyes to look at, surfaces that seemed to fold into themselves endlessly.
The liquid mass twitched and convulsed, its movements becoming more erratic. Smaller globules broke free, orbiting around her where she stood frozen, watching as they began to merge and grow, collecting into a larger concentration of the strange substance directly before her. This new mass pulsed like a heart of void, its surface rippling with interference patterns that reminded her of digital glitches.
Suddenly, the darkness began to fall—not all at once, but in thick rivulets that splashed silently back to the floor. As the curtain of black liquid descended, it revealed something hovering in the space where the largest mass had been: a spherical object, its surface still dripping with the inky substance. With each drop that fell, more of its true form emerged—sleek black stone etched with greebling patterns that gave it the appearance of a sci-fi drone, hovering in place as green light pulsed along the curving line.
"What the—fuck... is that thing?"
As the words left her lips, the front of the sphere collapsed inward, revealing pure darkness—a screen. Despite how terrifying the sequence had been, to the point where she found herself unable to move, she couldn't tear her eyes away. They snapped wide with recognition—she had seen this before, had created this before. In a mindless gesture of recollection, she reached out to touch the black surface—immediately triggering an eruption of geometric shapes in various colors across its black surface.
A screen!
The realization barely had time to settle before the black screen on the floating sphere projected rays of light, sprawling into a holographic display. Words materialized before her, and Estelle found herself reading them automatically: [Main Terminal of Gestation Hall]