Over the din of the pattering rain, the medical bay’s alarm resounded deafeningly within the truck. Screens around Marana ululated warning signals, and the light above her flashed, bathing her in red and amber hues, as if depicting a horrifying scene of a tormented soul from the deepest levels of hell. The clamour caused Mr Muderclawz to hop off of his high throne and dash away to the front of the truck.  

Sinovan held up his hands, gesturing to the bellicose Silent Ripper for a truce, his crooked fingers shaking with apprehension. The giant man acquiesced and relaxed, turning his gaze towards Marana. She was hyperventilating; her chest rising and falling inordinately, her breath quick and shallow. Although her eyes blinked rapidly, her expression was calm, as if she was in REM sleep. Beads of sweat rolled down her face besmirching the pillow that supported her head. 

Sinovan wheeled around to investigate the cause of her discomfort. He perused the data from the system, afraid to make any changes to her chips’ programming. Arrays of curious shapes that looked strangely like muffins with smiling faces crowded the screen. 

‘Ah it’s no use,’ Sinovan said, feverishly. ‘Her operating system’s defence is as hard as a nutshell. Her whole system is crashing!’

The hulking man shoved Sinovan out of the way impatiently, ‘Let me run diagnostics.’ The Silent Ripper took off his helm to reveal a terrifying countenance. The top of his head was balding, but the fur on his neck and face was long and unkempt. His forehead, eyes, and nose, if they existed at all, were hidden behind strange gadgets attached to a steel plate — artefacts known only to be worn by Asenyans. His eyes were bionic — dark red gelatinous globes protruding from within cylinders attached to his face-plate and looked like balloons filled with a thick liquid. His mouth was concealed by a unique contraption that looked like it tunnelled inwards into his throat. He leaned towards Marana and unplugged a cable from the alarm system, which ceased the infernal racket, but the light above her still flashed red and amber. The silence brought back the dull hum of the downpour, which in contrast sounded like the peal of temple bells. 

Taking a deep breath, the Silent Ripper said, ‘My name is On’jar.’ He spoke to no one in particular, staring at the screen in front of him. ‘Like Marana, I was a renowned hyperprosthetist, and I lived in Asenya.’ Sinovan let out a sigh of relief but continued to remain silent. ‘Distressing incidents drove me away… others too. Like me, there were many who were found guilty of treason. We were all hoping for an era of change… of freedom. But in the end it did not matter. The rebels were caught and dealt with, and all was lost. I abandoned Asenya. I abandoned the country I loved! I came here to live in peace… But what peace can I have when the past tails me like a wild beast on a hunt? There are still those who grant me succour. Whether they do it out of compassion or only for the value of my skill, I know not. It does not matter. One way or another I will be found and towed back to those accursed mountains. It’s only a matter of time.’ 

On’jar worked on silently for a while, leaving Sinovan to ponder on what he had said. The rain had dwindled to a drizzle, allowing the Calcar to open the Gloomhog’s doors to let in some fresh air. He then hovered around Marana, who was still gasping for air.

On’jar, looking frustrated, pulled out a chip from his temple and inserted it into the system. All the ‘smiling muffins’ on the screen turned red. Angry faces stared back, flashing erratically. ‘What in Gaia’s name is this?’

‘Her defence matrix,’ Sinovan mumbled, kneeling next to Marana and stroking her human hand. ‘Only she can break it, but she needs to be awake.’ 

‘I have to dive,’ On’jar turned towards Sinovan and crossed his hands. ‘But not here. Not with this set up.’ 

‘It’s not safe to dive, you know?’ Sinovan argued. ‘Encephalosyncs can cause serious trauma…’

‘Aerozan hogwash!’ On’jar bellowed. ‘Encephalosyncs are perfectly safe if you know how to do it.’

‘We could purge her chips…’ 

‘Have you lost your mind?’ On’jar threw up his hands at Sinovan’s capricious suggestion. ‘That will erase all her memories!’

‘Do we have a choice?’ Sinovan retorted. 

‘Yes!’ On’jar growled. ‘Yes, we have a choice! Bring her to my workstation! I will fix her up… better than ever! You have my word.’ 

‘What’s in it for you?’ 

‘Like I said,’ replied On’jar, now sounding a bit exasperated. He unlocked a retractable seat behind him and sat down, the frail mechanism creaking under his weight. ‘I would not miss a chance to meet Marana Skjavok; and fate smiles on me — I get to be the one who rebuilds her. It’s an honour… friend.’ 

Sinovan stood up and let go of Marana’s hand. On’jar was right. Marana would die here. He  considered the stranger’s entreaty in silence, weighing the odds. If On’jar had better facilities, it was worth a shot. But he would have to be cautious. ‘Where is this place of yours?’ 

‘It’s deep within a cave — the only way in is through the river. So we can take this truck all the way into the underground shoreline. There I’ve set up my hideout in an old bunker. If you think it’s a trap, you have your truck to defend you.’

‘Alright then. We shall go on one condition,’ Sinovan looked up at the unsightly face of the grizzly stranger. ‘I get to be the one who dives. She knows me… not you. I will bring her back!’

Welcome to Sugar Coated Honey Muffin! You’re now part of an ecosystem built completely from scratch by our most fabulous queen — Marana Skjavok! Travel through golden paths, bubblegum gardens, candy castles and sugar syrup pools. If ya get lost, follow the will-o’-wisp. Doncha go wanderin’ off alone, for who knows what dimension you’d end up in. Have fun… interloper!

Dark purple — everything around Sinovan was monochrome, like he was on a midnight stroll under starlight. There was a bed, and maybe a chaise, and looking up, he could only see a reflection of himself. A strange menagerie of smells caressed his senses — lavender, vanilla, and… iron — Marana. Feeling a gentle push in the small of his back, he was cradled and thrust forward, as if he was in the ocean with his back towards an oncoming wave. A cold, bitter wind grasped its tendrils around him, which instantly froze the tips of his spines. 

Then the objects around him metamorphosed into new things. There were rocks now, and tall grass. Purple irises glowed faintly in the darkness giving light to a path — a tiled road that reflected moonlight, where there was no moon. The road meandered around rocks and crevices, leading into a dilapidated castle. Unearthly light issued from the grand gates of the fortress, beckoning him to seek shelter and warmth. 

Interloper’s rhodopsin levels optimisin’. 

‘Who’s there?’ Sinovan chirruped. The voice had been squeaky, childish, and sounded playful. A giggle echoed at a distance, and he wheeled around to locate the speaker. But there was no one. 

Follow the blue flame, interloper, it said firmly. Then it whispered: What’re you searchin’ for? 

Turning back towards the castle, he recognised a blue flame dancing on the snake-like path, and it flickered and sprang back as he moved towards it. Bouncing merrily, it led him farther down the road towards the castle. Everything around him twisted and turned, taking on abstract shapes. Only the will-o’-wisp was constant. 

When he stepped into the courtyard, he felt the gentle push again, and then he was instantly within the castle. The blue flame gleamed above a lone figure of a woman who was standing next to what looked like a very large humanoid body. 

‘One more day,’ she whispered. ‘Jeshka… hold on girl, and you will be free.’ 

He recognised Marana’s voice. This was her… or her consciousness. Before he could call out to her he was snatched away from the vision and plunged into darkness. Shadows danced around him in midnight blue and radiant pink. To his left, a magnificent building — MART headquarters in Aeroz. Marana was standing on a dias, the sunlight shining brilliantly on her as she is proclaimed head scientist.

The building crumbled and reformed to his right, but this time it was a different facility — a laboratory he had not seen before. Amongst fellow scientists, he stood clapping as a cylindrical glass capsule hissed open, and out stepped a young woman, her raven hair wet and flattened on her head. Marana… but something was different. She was younger, and her mechanical body parts were still in an initial stage of construction. Beside her was an empty Xalian incubator, and she shoved it away, eliciting another round of applause from the audience. Sinovan felt a sudden elation, and he cheered and laughed with the others. There was ale, and a feast! And he burst into song with the other Mechanovs, toasting and cavorting, until he felt the alcohol tingle his fingers and numb his tongue.  

Feeling the world spin around him, he observed the celebration withdrawing from him, as if everything had been farcical. Then shutting his eyes tightly and holding his abdomen, he disgorged everything he had consumed. Relief — he felt like he was being pulled upward, closer to reality. 

And when he opened his eyes, he was in a classroom surrounded by children creating a raucous. A young girl — a Xalian — floated alone inside an egg-shaped portable incubator. Engrossed in some text on her screen, the child paid no heed to the villainous classmates around her who threw eggs and sauce on to the glass of her prison. He recognised, again, that it was Marana, but when she was in school. 

I’ll build myself up one day, came the voice. One day I’ll walk on two legs — I’ll build my own body!

Then the classroom disappeared, but the Xalian girl remained, only now she was just a child of three or four years of age. Her incubator was placed in front of a warm fireplace. While she floated within it, she watched her Mechanov siblings run around, playing Catch the Will-o’-wisp, as a toy spun around the room with a blue flame above it.

‘Freshly-baked! Come now before your pa has ‘em all,’ came a fatherly voice. Sinovan turned around to see a Mechanov of middling age, with a short greying beard. He placed a tray of steaming hot honey muffins on the rug in front of the fire and kneeled in front of the little Xalian girl. ‘I’m sorry Maranareva. I know ‘em sugar coated honey muffins look scrumptious, but there ain’t no way I can feed ‘em to ya, my little angel.’ 

She watched her siblings voraciously gobble down many muffins as her father fixed up her supplementary diet through a pipe connected to her incubator.

It’s ‘k pa, I’ll make ‘em muffins just like you do when I have my own body. I’ll make the best muffins ever!

Darkness, again. Everyone disappeared except the little girl. Sinovan was kneeling in front of her, like her father had. She looked at him plainly, with blue flames in her eyes. 

What do ya want, interloper? All ya’ll find beyond these walls is death. 

‘Marana, it’s me Sinovan!’ A faint memory creeped into his mind. He was here for a purpose. Marana was dying… ‘You need to do something… anything! Your system is crashing!’ 

I’m not Marana! I’m Maranareva! This is MY sugar coated honey muffin! I’M gonna eat it! 

Sinovan felt an intense encumbrance, as if a boulder had been placed on his shoulder. But he did not stagger and continued to look into the girl’s eyes. Sounds of falling debris resounded all around him… her world was crashing.  ‘Marana look at me!’ Snap out of it! Look! Look around you… everything is falling! You have to fix it!’

I don’t wanna leave this place! 

The strain on his shoulders felt like it was beginning to crush his skull. He was involuntarily heaving and his knees were shaking. He was too deep and would have to swim to the surface before he breathed his last. Looking up, he saw the will-o’-wisp. Pushing himself upwards, he swam towards the light. Slowly fading, it flickered, then blinked out. 

‘Is Marana alright?’ Sinovan spoke groggily as he woke up in a poorly lit room that looked frighteningly like a torture chamber.

If he could smile, On’jar would have been beaming, ‘Had I not seen this with my very own eyes, I would not have believed it. You revived her system, friend!’

Sinovan breathed in so deeply that Onj’ar thought the little man would balloon up and explode. ‘I’m glad,’ Sinovan replied, the slightest smile appearing on his cracked face.

‘You’re a passionate man,’ On’jar continued, while he monitored Marana’s vital signs on the screen in front of him. ‘...and that reminds me of someone I knew in the past… someone spectacular! She was passionate. And she fought for what was right! She never gave up... on anything or anyone. She fought till the very end, you know. Ah, you are just like her…’

Sinovan looked up at Onj’ar who had now gotten rid of the mournful attire and was fitted in loose robes. ‘What happened to her?’

‘She was banished from Asenya,’ he waved, as if he did not wish to speak of it. ‘Some say she died in Hell’s Teeth. Others say she may return to help the people reclaim Asenya. No one really knows. And I believe… now no one has the courage to care.’ 

‘I see…’ Sinovan felt like he could collapse again, but he dismissed his languor. The moment he heard Marana stir, he bounced up and jogged to her side. She was strapped upon a recline operation chair, her head raised with comfortable supports. Her eyes blinked open and she regarded Sinovan gleefully.

‘Your system crashed,’ Sinovan said, holding her human hand. ‘I brought you... we brought you back!’

‘Honeymuffin crashed?’ Marana croaked, her usual cheery voice dampened to a murmur. ‘That’s not surprising… considering what I’ve been through… Thank you, Sin.’

‘Rest now. We’ll get you walking in no time,’ Sinovan comforted her.  

‘Sin, we need to find Zovhara!’ She said, squirming uncomfortably. 

‘Zovhara?’ On’jar barked, his bionic eyes darting between Marana and Sinovan. 

‘She’s a friend of ours,’ Marana replied. ‘She is going through a hard time… memory loss and all. We’re going to Neva to make sure she’s alright.’

On’jar suddenly looked tense, but the other two did not notice. Excusing himself, he waddled away into his private chamber and shut himself in the dark room. 

‘Zovhara’ — the name kept ringing in his mind, and he felt a sudden heaviness in his chest. His throat was suddenly dry, and his breath came in short spurts. Steadying himself, he approached his desk, feeling his way in the dark, and from a drawer he withdrew an old device that woke with his touch.

‘On’jar!’ came a voice after a few seconds. ‘Why in the name of Gaia are you contacting me through this channel?’

‘I found her,’ he spoke as softly as he could, mustering the will to keep calm. 

‘Found who? What are you going on about?’ demanded the voice, distorted by static.

‘The captain… She’s alive!’

There was a brief silence from the other side, and On’jar felt like the static would drive him mad. Then came the reply, ‘Summon the Duskwatch.’