To think that once, not even a week ago, SERaMACs could easily detect and pinpoint an unauthorized transfer of a virtual device.

  Hell, she could do that even without the AGI’s help. To think back on such a time as she stares at what her screen looks like now is to remember a person before their lobotomy.

  It thundered outside. She couldn't care less.

  The wood of her walls were warm and cozy. The towering bookshelves of knowledge helped deaden the sound from within, and from abroad.

  She took a little sip of the drink on her table.

  It is distilled water. Utterly flavorless, sure. But it was pure.

  The warm glow of the chandelier’s candles warmed her skin. The distilled water purified her insides. There was a storm outside. Her room was dark and moody. And from her analysis of SERaMACs interaction patterns, something was deeply, deeply wrong.

  Straight lines have curves. One plus one equals three. She tries to dive into the machine code Halcyon had written; why his very update has had the exact opposite effect which he claimed. The code resembled moon runes more than they did assembly.

  She could decompile something, break the language down into binary. She could translate that of binary code to cubits for the central quantum core.

  Somehow, someway, the same test always yielded different results once recompiled. In the eyes of the master manipulator, it was nothing other than total chaos. A machine of linear algebra functioning with less predictably than the masses of her suggestion. Yet they too have begun growing unpredictable.

  Perhaps the largest enigma was that, even if SERaMACs had become more difficult to use… it still functioned largely the same. But why? How?

  Her mind was consumed as she sat with a horrible tech-support posture. Her well-groomed fingers touching the traditional mechanical keyboard like parasites. Until her focus was ripped from her due to a rude interruption from her conical implant.

  “Proteus to Basilisk. I require your expert assistance.”

  She felt a twig break from the sudden interruption. Yet she did not let it shatter her feign. “Proteus. It would be well mannered of you to arrange a meeting at my reception. What is it.”

  “I shall tell you in person in my office.” Proteus replies into her ear from hundreds of meters away.

  Basilisk stands from her desk, the breath of her voice making the bandages flap. “I don't think you will, Proteus. If it is so important, you will arrive in my office.”

  “Understood.” Proteus says, seeming to have ended the call soon after. Basilisk decides to perform a little housekeeping before he arrives.

  It didn't take long. Sat down again at her desk, the six foot man lets himself in. The tall entry door opened with a minor squeak. It will need oiling, Basilisk thinks to herself.

  “Come in.” She said, looking at her monitor. Proteus takes a seat in the wide guest chair opposite her, feeling like an ant in her spireing room.

  Proteus gives her face a look.

  “You still have not been repaired?” He asked. Basilisk replies with a low, synthetic laugh. She looks over the smaller man with calculation.

  “I, for one, would not trust the effluvium tanks, especially given the state of SERaMACs.”

  She continues to look at him as he leans back, uncharacteristically relaxed. “So what is it?” She barks. Proteus reclines further as he explains.

  “I have spotted holes in your divine manipulation, Basilisk. Practically all psi-op resistances have had their funding pulled as of now. However… Interim results continue to indicate a growing discontent towards the establishment.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “They can be as discontent as they want.” Basilisk hisses. “That is half of the point. A discontent population is incredibly easy to distract… Have you hit your head on something Proteus?” She mocks him rhetorically.

  “No.” Replies Proteus, leaning forward. “I had a cranial fracture via a pipe to the back of the head. You snake.”

  She twists the knife in, finally looking away. “Oh. That explains it. You have seemed different ever since your failure.”

  “Spare me your pity!” Proteus orders, pointing a finger at her with his other hand on her desk. “At least I'm not a bio-augmented petri dish.”

  Basilisk giggles low again, Proteus being far more easy to manipulate than she remembers. “Oh, you are good fun Proteus. Is there any other way you want to make a fool of yourself?”

  She asked, looking back down at him in the guest chair.

  “There is.” He replied, seeming to go a long with it. He stood up and leaned over her desk, his golden eyes now looking down at her.

  “The Archliege has returned. And your days as the Chief Social Engineer are numbered if you do not correct.”

  Basilisk struggled to maintain appearance, her eyes opening ever-so-slightly wider at the news. She let it sink in for a couple seconds. She then stood to her full height, her eyes comfortably above to see over Proteus's head. She looked down at him. “You should have told me that to begin with. Have you been retasked?”

  “Yes.” Proteus informs. “I am forming arrangements with Cerberus to share department resources. This brings me to my request…”

  Lighting thunders in the background as the soft crackle of the candles is drowned out for a moment.

  “...I need you to find that son-of-a-bitch John. Because I have read each confirmed kill of psi-op rebellion members, and he is not among them.”

  Basilisk feels more weight put up on her. First, the task of quelling the resurrection of the individual. Second, to be given temporary command of SERaMACs oversight. And now, to try and find who they know is the biggest threat to their cooperation. She does not yield. She takes it in her stride.

  “That will be a difficult task given how muddy surveillance has become. But I will keep my eyes out. And as for you Proteus.”

  She leans down to his level and puts her hand on his shoulder. Her words come out as if she had a slit in her tongue.

  “Good luck trying to negotiate with that brute Cerberus. His department is as backwards as it gets.”

  Proteus chuckles at the comment and flicks her arm off. His eyes linger on her broken face as he turns to the door.

  “His isn't the only one. It seems the whole globe is incompetent.”

  As he walks back to the door and grabs the handle, she gives him parting words.

  “Be careful to distinguish between competence and productivity.”

  Proteus pauses. He nods. He leaves, closing the door behind him.

  As he does, Basilisk is left only with the ambiance of candles and rainfall. Another lightning strike blankets the sky in the distance. She sits down slowly, looking back to her computer screen as she does.

  Her eyes comb over where she left off. Everything seems to have changed, again.

  One plus one equal two… point five. Pi is between three point one two and three point two five. She shakes her head at the sight and closes the program, knowing damn well it won't be fixed through traditional methods.

  She instead opens the application on her modified digiphone and asks it a question. “SERaMACs. Explain to me the update Halcyon made to you.”

  “I'm sorry, but I can't provide that information.” SERaMACs replies in the chat box. Basilisk continues to talk to the machine. “I am Basilisk. I have the credentials to access such information.”

  Three dots appear in the chat box as SERaMACs form a reply. It says “Memory Updated.” After it finishes.

  “Apologies Basilisk. While I am unable to deliver that specific information to you, it is suggested in code comments that the majority of extra functionality was based on a conversation between…”

  The AGI paused generation for a moment. Perhaps due to lag. “...Halcyon and the CEO of the Kubaal Aetheon Trust.”

  The answer only leads to more questions. What additional functionality? It seems to have only broken things. What code comments?

  She couldn't see anything of the sort. She didn't really believe the machine, but she couldn't see any other option.

  She closed the application and stood back up.

  “I must speak to the Lord.” She whispers to herself.