“Order does not tolerate anomalies. If a variable introduces chaos into an equation, it must be eliminated at its source, not merely corrected.”

  [ Timelessness ]

  While my organic shell held Catherine’s hand—warm, alive, yet the primary source of the anomalous dissonance in my structure—my mind was running calculations. This glitch… this “Itch”… this quiet, persistent interference at the very foundation of my essence… it distorted my computations, introducing an unacceptable margin of error, especially critical when working with time. The mission in Fermecanima required absolute precision: locating the root cause and executing a calculated intervention in the past to eliminate it.

  The risk of contaminating the analytical process through this… connection with Catherine… had to be minimized. I needed an instrument completely separated from Illumora, from her. A synthetic avatar bearing no imprint of that reality and immune to its irrational influences.

  The point of incarnation was chosen with impeccable accuracy: Fermecanima, Ren’s world. A world where technology served society, and society served the Super-Intelligence, the so-called “Mech Anima,” which governed the entire planetary system. Traveling between the petals of the Origin Absolute’s Rose for this mission was unnecessary, for my true essence rarely leaves the bounds of timelessness.

  The choice of instrument remained. Data analysis of Fermecanima pointed to the optimal form: female. The “Keepers of Knowledge” in this system held privileged access to the central Super-AI and the archives, from which I could, with a 98.9% probability, extract the record I needed—the trace of the anomaly leading to the book’s author. The efficiency of infiltration would be maximal.

  But… the very thought of using a female shell caused background noise, an echo of that very “Itch,” so strongly reminiscent of Catherine standing so close to Arta right now. It was too… close to the destabilizing factor. To exist in a female avatar, even a synthetic one, while my organic form held her hand… An inadmissible risk of amplifying the anomaly.

  Maximum dissociation was required. Tactical advantage had to be sacrificed for the sake of preserving internal structural integrity. Based on these risks, my choice fell upon a male form—a “Truth Seeker.” An elderly analyst. Authoritative enough for access to archives, neutral enough not to evoke… unnecessary associations. The gender of the avatar was merely a parameter. The tool must serve the purpose, and the primary goal now was not only to find Alterius but also to maintain structural stability in the face of internal distortion.

  Selecting the point in space and time, I began to weave matter from threads of darkness and order, stitching together the tears in the reality of the Petal R’lorun. A moment later, in the dead silence of a deserted alley in the city of Entarn, distorting space and collapsing with a soundless click like a popping vacuum, my new synthetic avatar emerged. An elderly man of sturdy build, with gray hair, a short beard, and eyes violet as the abyss of night.

  The time of intervention was chosen exactly one year after Ren had read the book. Chaotic Light was hardly present in this world—He had enough toys in other dimensions.

  『 ?? 』━━━???━━━『 ? 』

  [ Streets of Entarn | Fermecanima ]

  I took my first breath. The air of this world was dense, with a distinct taste of ozone and cold metal. From above, from the flat roofs of brick giants, came a steady, low hum—the monotone song of active ether installations powering the city. Ether flowed through an energy grid invisible to the naked eye, strung between copper spires, entangling the entire sky in a web. From around the corner came a hissing sound, and dense clouds of whitish steam burst forth—one of the massive steam-ether machines, the foundation of this world’s technology, exhaling excess pressure. Everywhere stood smooth metal terminal pillars, coated in greenish patina and rows of dim indicator lamps. These were the physical interfaces of the Mech Anima, binding the city into a single network. These mechanical intermediaries were not an archaism, but a conscious choice of the system—tangible nodes of control in a world where the central mind preferred material manifestations of its power.

  I looked up. Far on the horizon, piercing the leaden sky, towered the central Spire. It was not built—it had grown from the very heart of the city, a hybrid of a colossal crystal and forged metal. Around its ether core, giant copper spheres rotated slowly, and numerous valves on its surface incessantly spewed steam, venting the excess pressure from converting ether into pure energy and turning it into low clouds. At the very summit pulsed a glowing singularity—the Mech Anima.

  This Super-AI, the pinnacle of the genius of the long-vanished Fer civilization, was a paradoxical creation. Ancient, it paradoxically gravitated toward physical manifestations of its power over the planet-state. It could be called paranoid, yet it was precisely this caution that had so far saved it from absorption by other, more powerful AIs operating on this Petal of the Origin Absolute’s Rose.

  Every detail of this world spoke of deep mistrust toward purely digital technologies. That was why the “Keepers of Knowledge” were so significant to the Mech Anima—women seemed to it those whose actions would not cross the threshold of destructive aggression and would allow the gears of this world to turn again and again. Such an approach made the entire network incredibly resistant to digital hacking, but simultaneously potentially vulnerable through its tangible components—especially through humans.

  Looking around, I stepped out of the alley. The streets of Entarn lived their measured, mechanical life. A steam omnibus drove past with a rhythmic clatter, spewing steam and black soot. Thousands of faces, thousands of trajectories—and I alone, in a black coat and the old-fashioned suit of a “Truth Seeker.” Clicking the heels of my pointed shoes on the granite pavement, I headed toward the transport hub.

  My path lay to the Great Archive, located at the foot of the grandiose Spire. It was the most direct and logical route to access the knowledge of this world and find information about the author of the ill-fated book—L. Alterius.

  『 ?? 』━━━???━━━『 ? 』

  [ The Archive of Memory | Fermecanima ]

  The vestibule of the Archive met me with an almost ringing sterile silence and the cold, eye-cutting light of ether lamps. The air smelled of barely perceptible archival dust, polished metal, and obtrusive floral air freshener.

  Right in front of me, by a heavy bronze door near which several guards froze in power armor armed to the teeth, towered a smooth obelisk of dark metal—one of the mechanical interfaces of the Mech Anima. Its mirrored surface came to life as soon as my fingers touched it, forming a standardized three-dimensional image of a neutral face.

  “Identification required. State your unique ID,” spoke a synthetic male voice, devoid of any intonation.

  “74-164-72-311-142,” I cited the ID of a man long dead, but officially missing for three years, who had traveled on the cruise liner Pirmixon and suffered a catastrophe in the middle of the Astir Ocean.

  “The identifier with the specified ID is blocked. Re-registration is required. Proceed to the Department of ‘Digital Registration of Citizens.’ Do not forget to obtain a new mechanical access token if it was also lost. Good day,” the synthetic voice pronounced, giving no opportunity to object to the voiced decision.

  Before I could step away from the terminal, a guard approached me—massive, in a metal sensory helmet completely concealing his face, and khaki-colored power armor. His hands instinctively gripped the ether rifle hanging at the ready.

  “Citizen, identify yourself,” he said, displaying a metal token card showing a blurred image and the inscription: Security Department of the Great Archive.

  “Retor Alnius,” I replied politely.

  “Mr. Retor, please register immediately. In your case, you will not be able to obtain access to the archive earlier than in five to seven years, after you pass all bureaucratic procedures, are identified by relatives—if any are found, of course—and regain the status of a trustworthy citizen.”

  “Is there no faster way?” I clarified, more to maintain the mask than out of real interest in the question.

  “No. The procedure is standard; at best, it will take four years. But…” He looked me up and down with poorly concealed suspicion. “I fear in your case the matter will drag on.” He looked at me again, as if assessing my shabby clothes. “If you wish, you can try to apply for a guest pass. It is rarely used, but I think in a year you will receive permission. I just don't know if that will help you.”

  “Thank you, I will think about it,” I answered the guard and headed for the exit.

  A year of waiting with no guarantee of success sounded irrational. An unnecessary journey through time could cause unwanted fluctuations in the fabric of space, which could lead to an unplanned encounter with Chaotic Light. The system, built on mechanical checks and manual approvals, was not only conditionally secure but also unbearably slow for external requests. The direct path to the data I needed turned out to be blocked by the bureaucratic wall of the Mech Anima.

  I left the Archive. Returning to the noisy street, I stepped into the deep shadow of an archway, beginning to analyze other ways to obtain the information I needed. My timeless probe silently sifted through the information streams of this world. And found a familiar surname—Carter. Alucenta Carter, the mother of Reina Carter—that very anomaly because of whom I was forced to intervene personally in the affairs of the world of Illumora. Alucenta was a former “Keeper of Knowledge,” which meant she potentially had the ability to provide the knowledge I required.

  A new entry point was found. And although it was not the most efficient, obtaining detailed knowledge about Reina through her mother could undoubtedly help me acquire at least part of the necessary information. I looked one last time at the tower striving toward the leaden skies and relentlessly spewing steam, and walked back into the depths of the city, to the very house where Reina Carter once lived.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  『 ?? 』━━━???━━━『 ? 』

  [ The House Where Reina Carter Resided | Fermecanima ]

  A small ten-storey building of red brick darkened by time, with still elegantly carved frames and worn patterns across the fa?ade, met me with the piercing silence of one of the central yet clearly fading districts of the city, despite the bustling life just around the corner.

  The entrance door was locked with a digital-mechanical combination lock—a standard precaution in this world. Cracking it posed no problem: I merely directed a part of my concentration to the lock and, having read the energetic imprint of the nine digital elements, reproduced the order of the most frequently used combinations with ideal precision. With a quiet click, the steel door opened smoothly, letting me into the cool entrance hall smelling of dampness, where a silent biometric identification system met me—a dimly glowing panel and a retinal scanner.

  “Unregistered citizen, state the purpose of your visit,” spoke a synthetic female voice from a metal speaker hidden in the wall.

  Reaction took me slightly less than a millisecond. Having analyzed the location of the ether cluster embedded in the wall as a power source, I directed a Beam of Order into its center. The power in the hall flickered briefly, the light of the lamps trembled, after which the ether streams ceased to flow, and the Mechanical-Digital control system shut down with a quiet click. There was no more than an hour before the city services reacted, and I quickly walked up the worn gray granite stairs, avoiding the ether elevators, of which there were more than enough in the building’s spacious lobby.

  My path lay to the fourth floor, where in apartment number 418, Reina Carter and her parents, Alucenta Carter and Inviron Carter, had once lived.

  Stopping at a modest door made of a thick sheet of black iron, I rang the mechanical doorbell, which buzzed with a short, non-standard symphony, somewhat vaguely reminiscent of the low hum of the Mech Anima.

  Two minutes later, a click of locks resonated, and the door was finally opened by Alucenta, an elderly woman with dull gray hair pulled into a careless bun, wearing round professor’s glasses that had slid to the tip of her nose. Her face was pale, and deep shadows lay beneath her eyes.

  “Good day, Madam Alucenta. Allow me to introduce myself—Retor Alnius. I am here regarding your daughter, Reina Carter. May we speak?”

  “Regarding my daughter…?” A murky hope flashed in Alucenta’s tired eyes, mixed with distrust.

  “Yes, it is a private conversation. If you allow, may I enter?” I asked politely.

  “Of course, of course…” She hastily stepped away from the door, letting me into her small, modestly furnished two-room apartment.

  As soon as I crossed the threshold, I found myself in a short but sufficiently spacious corridor for this type of building. However, there was no sense of life in it at all. The air was stale, smelling of dust, old books, and the faint scents of boiled meat and vegetables drifting from the kitchen. The walls, as in the lobby, were finished with smooth granite tiles, and the cold floor was paved with solid granite slabs. A gloomy ether chandelier dimly illuminated this small area. Against the wall stood a narrow bookcase of light wood, densely packed with various volumes—likely, among them were those read by Ren herself.

  “Is Mr. Inviron not in?” I asked politely, trying to analyze how best to approach the conversation.

  “No, he is at work at the ‘Publica’ publishing house,” Alucenta said politely, carefully locking the front door on the digital-mechanical lock.

  “So, has something become known to you about my daughter?” she asked, turning to me, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

  “Yes, undoubtedly. But first, allow me to ask: did she warn you about anything? Perhaps she left a note or something else?” I asked, starting the conversation to get closer to the question I needed.

  Alucenta shook her head sadly; her shoulders slumped.

  “No, no, she just disappeared one night and that was it, no traces, no signs… As if she fell through the earth.”

  I projected a calculated mask of sympathy. Chaotic Light rarely thinks about consequences; however, Ren could have quietly left a note, but did not bother to do even that.

  “Unfortunately, such things happen,” I shook my head. “Cases of people disappearing are not rare on Fermecanima.” This was the purest truth, for on the Petal R’lorun there was more than one highly developed civilization that regularly abducted humans for its purposes. These cases were carefully concealed by the Mech Anima to avoid unnecessary panic in society.

  “Are you also one of those… conspiracy theorists…?” Alucenta muttered under her breath, her gaze becoming prickly. “Or did you just come to mock my grief?”

  Her reaction was irritable, predictable, but necessary to continue the dialogue.

  “Not entirely. I must advise you to remain calm regarding what I am about to disclose. Your daughter was, in fact, abducted by an extraterrestrial civilisation.” Such a half-truth was necessary, since Chaotic Light had indeed come from outside Fermecanima.

  “What nonsense are you spouting?! Get out of my apartment!” Alucenta screamed as if enraged, her face distorted by anger and pain.

  “Arguing with you is not my objective,” I stated smoothly, recalibrating my approach. “If you do not wish to learn of your daughter’s fate, I shall take my leave.” I turned decisively toward the door.

  Alucenta’s face distorted, and her thin brows furrowed as if she were feverishly debating whether to let me go.

  “Wait,” she uttered when I had already reached for the door handle. “Since you know something about her, prove it.” Her voice became quieter, but a challenge rang in it.

  I turned my head to her.

  “And what exactly do you want to hear from me as proof? You published all the basic data about her in the missing person announcements; any stranger could know details about Reina.”

  “Not exactly.” Alucenta shook her head. “Reina had a number of hobbies that could be considered non-standard… If you really know something about her, I am almost sure she would have mentioned this in one way or another.”

  This was a predictable reaction: she wanted information that was not customary to write in missing person ads.

  “Are you referring to her interest in other women?” I clarified politely.

  Alucenta took a step back, as if recoiling.

  “What are you saying, what are you saying…” She began, as if looking for an excuse. “Reina never dated women; she only read books and watched animation, nothing more.”

  “I am by no means trying to convince you of anything,” I said, turning to her. “But perhaps her secluded lifestyle was the reason why she found no one?”

  “Are you joking? Reina had a secluded lifestyle?” Alucenta shook her head in disbelief. “She was always incredibly sociable, both during her studies and when she started working at ‘Publica.’ She always had many good acquaintances with whom she communicated wonderfully and regularly attended their birthdays…”

  “I am not joking at all. If you really understand what I am talking about, then do not try to confuse me.”

  Alucenta froze for a second.

  “So… So you really saw my Reina…?” she asked with new hope.

  “You could say that. But, as I said, she has not been here for a long time, and I very much doubt she will be able to return.”

  Alucenta stood silent for a few minutes, and then tears flowed from her eyes again.

  “And you… can you pass something on to her?” she asked hopefully.

  “I cannot promise,” I answered honestly, understanding that such a conversation with Ren would hardly ever take place, and if I resolved the anomaly issue, it would be even more meaningless.

  “Just take one note… either pass her the words from it, or the note itself…” she paused, it was difficult for her to speak, “the note…” She went to the far room, and the quiet shuffle of her worn slippers sounded in the semi-darkness of the apartment corridor.

  A few moments later, she opened the door to the room where Reina Carter had once lived. The room was decorated in pink tones; posters from various animations and films still hung on the walls. More personal posters for Reina—of kissing girls—were no exception here. But the most important thing here, perhaps, was a large poster under which the inscription “Nova Cross” proudly displayed itself, the name circled with a red marker in the shape of a heart. It must be noted, the Nova on this poster differed slightly from the Nova of Illumora, but the differences were insignificant.

  Besides this, the room contained a large bed with a pile of pillows, a work desk with a massive mechanical computer that was still connected to the ether network, a comfortable worn armchair, a wardrobe, and several nightstands. And only the tightly drawn curtains, through which gray light lazily penetrated, hinted that no one had lived here for a long time.

  Alucenta walked to Reina’s desk and took an open envelope from it. She walked slowly to me.

  “Here… give it to her, or voice it, if you ever can.” She sighed, taking off her glasses, and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I will write a new letter in case she returns, but I fear that since you mentioned extraterrestrial civilizations, that is unrealistic…”

  I took the envelope and pulled out a sheet folded in two. The letter was short, and I decided to read it immediately. Refusing was pointless, but it was far more important to record everything in my eternal memory.

  “Reina…

  I don’t know why I am writing this letter; you haven’t been in my life for almost a whole year. Not a single message. Perhaps I disappointed you in some way? Or did you get tired of living with me and father in our small apartment and left for somewhere else?

  Perhaps you found yourself a girl, the one you wanted to find so much?

  I don’t know… I really don’t know the answers to these questions…

  But here is what I know for sure: if you are alive, I just want to tell you one thing. I have always loved you and love you still. Since you came into the world, a sweet girl with brown hair and brown eyes, you became everything to me…

  I don’t know what changed in the 33 years spent with me, but I miss you very much, Reina.

  I really hope we will see each other again, if not now, in life, then at least after death.

  With love, Mom.

  P.S. Father has completely lost faith that you will ever return. He believes you left us in search of a better life… But I am sure he would also be glad to hear a message, at least a couple of words…”

  “This is a touching message,” I noted dryly. “If I succeed, I will pass it on,” I replied, folding the letter into the envelope and placing it in the inner pocket of my coat.

  “Thank you very much,” Alucenta replied politely.

  I went out into the corridor, and then looked at her once more.

  “And one more thing. Have you heard anything about the book The Heroine Who Saved the Kingdom?” Pronouncing this title here, my own voice distorted into an incomprehensible set of hissing sounds.

  “;:;:(%:№;:(!"%):;:(%!%.%:№?, — she said politely, not noticing the distortion. — Ren read this book for the last couple of years. My husband published it.”

  “I need to find the author of this book,” I replied calmly. “There are suspicions that the disappearances of other people are connected to him,” I lied.

  “I understand… You know, considering you helped me, I can ask my husband to look up where the author of this work lives. His publishing house makes royalty payments.”

  “Is such information not available only to the ‘Keepers of Knowledge’?” I clarified.

  “I used to work as a Keeper, but now I do not have access to the Great Archive of the Mech Anima.” She smirked ironically. “But if my husband has no information about the author, I will give you the contact of my friend. Perhaps she will help you get into the archive, but I very much doubt they will let you through.” She looked me up and down. “Men are not favored there.” Her words painfully reminded me of Catherine again and why I had chosen this particular instrument. A slight feeling of the itch pierced my structure once more.

  “I understand. But if there are no other ways, I will still be forced to go there,” I shook my head.

  “Please wait by the door; I will call my husband. Perhaps he can help.”

  Time was running out; the police could be here any minute, and that promised me nothing but problems.

  “Very well.”

  Precisely seven minutes and twelve seconds elapsed before Alucenta returned with a small note on which an address was written in quick handwriting: Kglow, Ether Highway 82, Apartment 762. Name: Lia Alterius.

  “I hope this helps you,” she said politely.

  “Thank you very much!” I replied, nodding politely. “You have been of great help to me.”

  “Do not forget the request to pass the letter to Reina, if it works out,” she said in a pleading voice.

  I nodded, understanding that I could not promise more, and, leaving the apartment, closed the door behind me. Looking out the dusty window of the stairwell, I discovered no fewer than four black steam-ether cars near the house, on which the inscription “POLICE” was dimly displayed. Climbing a few floors higher, I knocked out the window on the opposite side with my shoulder and jumped down into the empty alley between the buildings. A fall from such a height for a synthetic avatar was no more than a statistical error, and I, as if nothing had happened, walked along the rain-slicked streets of the city to choose a suitable place for an even deeper journey into Fermecanima’s past.