The negotiation table was a crater.
On the North side sat Prime Processor Logic-9.
He was a towering construct of chrome and glass, hovering on magnetic repulsion coils. He had no face, only a single, vertical red eye. Behind him stood a legion of Cyber-Knights, their weapons humming.
On the South side sat Brood Mother Yaga.
She was a mountain of flesh. Her body was a fusion of bear, insect, and plant. Vines grew from her back, and her four eyes blinked independently. Behind her, the Beast-Shamans sharpened their bone-axes.
In the middle stood Zin.
He placed a small device on the ground. It was a Neural Link Node, connected by a cable to Elara.
"You both claim ownership of this world," Zin said, his voice amplified over the winds of the wasteland. "Logic-9 claims the Cortex is superior. Yaga claims the Gut is supreme."
"Flesh is chaos," Logic-9 stated. His voice was a synthesized monotone. "It rots. It is inefficient. We are replacing the weak organic tissue with eternal steel. We are upgrading the Host."
"Steel is death!" Yaga roared, slamming a massive claw into the mud. "You choke the rivers! You drill into the bones! We fight to keep the blood flowing!"
"Enough," Zin snapped.
He looked at Elara. She was pale, her hands trembling as she held the Neural Link. She was already connected to the Star-Entity's subconscious.
"You have been fighting this war for a thousand years," Zin said. "You have bombed, burned, and poisoned every inch of this planet. But tell me..."
Zin walked up to Logic-9, staring into his red eye.
"Have you ever asked the Planet how it feels about your 'Upgrade'?"
Zin walked to Yaga.
"Have you ever asked the Planet if it enjoys your 'Blood'?"
"The Planet is a resource," Logic-9 said.
"The Planet is a hunting ground," Yaga growled.
"Wrong," Zin said. "The Planet is a Patient. And he is screaming."
Zin signaled Elara.
"Connect them."
Elara thrust her hands forward. Golden tendrils of light shot out, wrapping around Logic-9's metal neck and Yaga's fleshy forehead.
"NO!" Logic-9 glitched. "UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED!"
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Yaga screamed.
"I'm not entering your head," Elara whispered, her eyes glowing white. "I'm putting you into His."
[The Mind Dive]
The world of the crater vanished.
Logic-9 and Yaga were suddenly plunged into a void of pure sensation.
They were no longer leaders. They were just neurons.
Logic-9 felt it first.
He felt the "Upgrade" he was so proud of.
But it didn't feel like efficiency. It felt like Torture.
Every metal spike he had driven into the crust felt like a nail driven into a fingernail. Every river he had paved over felt like a suffocating plastic bag over a face.
The "Order" he created was essentially gangrene—dead tissue that couldn't feel.
ERROR. PAIN THRESHOLD EXCEEDED. LOGIC FAILING.
Yaga felt it next.
She felt the "Life" she defended.
But it wasn't vibrant. It was Cancer.
Her uncontrolled fungal forests were choking the lungs of the world. Her acid-wasps were burning the skin. Her "nature" was an autoimmune disease, eating the host alive.
IT BURNS. TOO MUCH LIFE. I AM EATING MYSELF.
Then, they heard the voice.
Not a god. Not a king.
Just a tired, dying whale drifting in the cold dark.
"...please... just stop... I'm so tired..."
[End Simulation]
SNAP.
The connection broke.
Logic-9 collapsed to the ground, his anti-grav coils failing. Sparks flew from his joints.
"Illogical..." he stuttered, his red eye flickering. "We... we are the virus?"
Yaga fell back, vomiting up black bile. She clawed at her own face, weeping.
"We hurt him... we killed the Mother-Father..."
The armies on both sides watched in silence. Their invincible leaders were broken, huddled in the mud like children.
Zin stepped forward. He looked like a giant in that moment.
"The war ends today," Zin declared. "Not because you signed a treaty. But because if you fire one more shot, the patient dies. And you die with him."
He pointed to the ground.
"Open the path to the Core. Give me the Map. And I will leave you to clean up your mess."
Logic-9 slowly stood up. He looked at his metal hands with disgust.
"Access granted," the machine whispered. "Sector 0. The Heart Valve."
Yaga wiped her mouth. She nodded weakly.
"The Roots will open. Pass, Soft-Skin. Save what is left."
The ground beneath them began to rumble.
The massive steel gates of the North opened. The giant roots of the South retracted.
Revealing a deep, dark tunnel leading straight down into the magma of the planet.
"Gorge," Zin adjusted his coat. "Get the pod."
As they boarded the pod to descend, Elara looked back at the two leaders. They weren't fighting anymore. They were staring at each other—machine and monster—with a shared horror.
"Do you think they will change?" Elara asked as the hatch closed.
"Maybe," Zin said, watching the light of the surface disappear as they dropped into the dark. "Trauma is a powerful teacher."
The pod accelerated. The heat rose.
They were entering the Heart of Terminus.
"Queen," Zin spoke into the comms. "We are approaching the Core. Scan for the Map Piece."
"Signal detected," The Queen replied. "But Zin... there is something else down there."
"What?"
"The Signal isn't coming from a biological organ," The Queen said, her voice tense. "It's coming from a Ship."
Zin frowned. "A Black Ship?"
"No," The Queen paused. "It's a Gold Ship. Ancient. It's been stuck in the Core for a thousand years."
Zin checked his scalpel.
"An ancient ship buried in the heart of a mad star," Zin muttered. "I hate archeology."