John closes the driver's door behind him in this shitty weather.

  The others had already gotten out of the car, with a nice sleep no less. Good for them. Rain is superior to hail, he finds. The novelty of ice wore off after a while.

  The tarmac rots like the mountains erode, his boot clacking against the surface to propel him into the open hangar. The light, not so much a white as it is gold. Or at least, it is in comparison to the sterile neon or darkness of the rest of the world outside.

  His ears fill with the sound of productivity from afar. People running to places or in training. Keys tap. Lights buzz. Productivity in truth.

  As he passes the plane, he sees the computer cell hard at work past his left. Just beyond them, the defenders and laborers hard into simulated training. It would've been a couple hours before the nightly meeting, and so he opts not to spill the beans immediately.

  Instead, a nagging thought is brought to the front of mind.

  “The Archliege.” He thinks.

  And thus, he must find Amy, which only takes a few more seconds as she sat on top of a nearby crate on her digiphone.

  Conspicuously inconspicuous.

  “Guess who's back?” John asks as he walks over and sits by her.

  He lets himself down slowly like an old man. Tired, yes, though not as tired as in the past.

  “Oh! Hey John. Didn't see ya there.” Amy responded. John caught a glimpse of her screen as she put the digiphone away, seeing she was on the weather app.

  “Hey Amy, would you believe me if I told you it was raining outside?”

  “Shut up!” Amy says, pushing him away like she was an embarrassed kid. John sees through her attempted mystique as he laughs it off. “You're funny. Cute even. I never understood why the Hell we have a weather app.”

  “Oh, it's a holdover from when the weather used to change regularly.” Amy is quick to respond. She finally got the damn thing in her pocket, after which John continues to tease.

  “It's also good for looking like you're occupied.”

  “Shuuush, this is serious.” Amy says as she gives him another push. Following a minor reorientation, she changes the subject towards relevance.

  “So, I assume you were responsible for that service outage earlier. How was the mission?” She looked up to him with a sort of innocent charm. Her hands on her knees, her shoes not quite touching the ground. She was a sight for his sore, stinging eyes.

  ”It went well. Great even. There was some fighting this time but… nothing major.”

  Amy leans in, for John's words seemed less certain as he spoke.

  “Hmm? She asks. John changes the conversation just as she did.

  “Eh nothing major. Been able to find something on the Archliege?”

  “Oh.” Amy says as she tries to recollect.

  “...oh! Yes! Yes, Gosh, oh, umm… Do you want to discuss it here or?”

  “Let's go to your room. This is something I want between you and I, at least for now.” John requests.

  Amy gives a peaceful, almost sleepy nod of acknowledgment as she gets up, John following suit. The pair stroll lazily towards her room, a straight walk away. Lazy, because in their eyes, despite the differences between their work, they've earned it.

  Amy opens the door to John who stumbles through onto her bed, letting her close the door behind her and pull out her digiphone.

  A big sign escapes him as it feels like bed engulfs his body.

  “Ohhhhhh… man. Was it always this comfortable?” He asks.

  “I think so.” She answers as she pulls out her study document. She takes a seat on the side of her bed as John's face remains buried in the duvet.

  “So… do you want to know the good news or the bad news first?”

  “Bad news first.” John replies with a muffled voice.

  “Hmmm… Nah. I'ma give you the good news first.” Amy decides rhetorically. “The good news is that I've found some stuff that might've been written by the Archliege. I also found what might've been some images of them? That's all the positives I've learned. I've learned more but it's all negative.”

  Amy looks up to gauge his reaction, only to see he still buried his face in the duvets. “John?”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Huh? Yeah? I'm listening. So the bad news?” He assures and seeks further. Amy scrolls down a bit to see the longer list of negatives.

  “Alright. Uh… so on the bad side, literally no one knows what it actually is. At first, I saw it was a person that people used to look up to. Like a king, but, then… people started disagreeing and saying it was a concept. Then some other people said the Archliege was a myth. Or a revision of that God dude. Or even a—”

  “Yeah I get it.” John interrupts as each second grows more tired in comfort. “So how could it not be a person if they've supposedly written these things you've found?”

  Amy didn't take well to his interrupting, especially given how hard she worked to find this. Even if the truth is out there, it was so far buried it may have well been lost. Almost.

  “Well you're gonna have to read them to know fully, John. They don't read like something someone would look up to would write. Besides, the author is disputed. I even saw a link point to that Gauth whatever his name is as the author.”

  John is quiet for a moment as she looks at his back. Still soaking wet.

  How kind of him to get it all over her bed. Little things like that slowly but surely add up and, for now, remain unspoken.

  John pushes himself off the covers with some renewed energy to sit next to her. “May I read the writings?” He asks. Amy forces a smile and nods, opening up the images and handing it to him.

  He reads it as follows.

  “Void Death in Another World - V

  It’s difficult to acknowledge uncomfortable truths. In the vast, unfeeling universe; we are ultimately no different from the rest of the inanimate world. The universe will continue on without us, just as it will any other thing. The trees in the forest still fall. But if no one is there to witness it, does it truly matter? Is the act of observing what gives it meaning?”

  Expecting something of a revelation, or a sense of direction at the absolute least; he was thoroughly disappointed.

  “What kind of hurr-durr bullshit is this?”

  John asks with unmet expectations.

  “Yeah I don't know. But I did try. That was a whore to find.” Amy is sure to tell him. Maybe soon he'll actually give acknowledgment?

  “So what makes you think this could've been the Archliege?” John asks as he gives her back the digiphone. Nope, that's not acknowledgment.

  She signs within her head as she explains.

  “That little squiggle in the bottom left is supposed to be his signature. Like that scribble you did for Douglas, remember?”

  John nods, blinking for so long you might question if he's about to fall asleep. “Yeah. I mean, those are supposed to be a big deal, so I suppose that really could be a sign of him. I'll just take your word for it.”

  He puts his right hand on her left hand, the two meeting in eye contract before he speaks.

  “Thank you. I assume that wasn't very easy. Especially if you're calling it a whore. I appreciate it, alright?”

  Amy blushes and looks away.

  “Oh… uh, th— thank you. I uh— I appreciate it t— to, John.”

  “No worries. I'm trying to get better at being less dickish.”

  John looks away as he also pulls his hand away. Awkward silence for a couple seconds and all. John being the one to break it.

  “So… uhh… hmmm. What's with all those stakes outside? And uh, I see the uh, the defense force has started training.”

  “Stakes?” Amy asks as she looks again. Their conversations have had a tendency to devolve to a game of lighthouse.

  “Oh, those must be the ones Gilbert's ordered to be made. They're to make it harder for attackers to get in. He's really been upping up the defense, you should see how he trains people.”

  “See? I'll be getting him to train me in all likelihood.”

  John corrects as he becomes the one to look, and her the one to look away. He lets out a big yawn and stretches his back out. The worries and scars of the day comfortably buried beneath the surface. He stands from the bed and messes Amy's hair up again casual.

  “Hey!” She protests. John giggles like his age for once.

  “Hopefully, soon, we can paint our own targets and don't have to rely on others to do it for us. I'll talk to the others, then probably head to sleep. Would you please be able to find those other texts for me?”

  “I'll try, but I'll have more on my plate soon.” Answers Amy as John prepares to leave. He opens the door and looks back with a late-night smile.

  “It might sound weird, but I'm proud of you.” He says.

  He looks forward once more. He closes the door.

  And Amy sits alone again, yet not lonely. A familiar void thoroughly filled by genuine human interactions. Not to mention the momentum. The prospects. A metaphorical light growing in the darkness. Then, her digiphone and AGI within it starts talking uninvited.

  “I can help you with the texts you seek, Amy. Better yet, I might have some good news for you soon.”

  Amy looks at the thing surprised. The screen isn't even turned on and yet it still speaks. “Oh… thanks SERaMACs? Umm, can you please not spook me like that?”

  “Would you prefer I stopped talking?”

  SERaMACs asks her through the device.

  “Uh, no… you're okay. Just… maybe a bit more warning. And, besides, I've done enough work for today. So remind me of what you just said in the morning.”

  Amy plugs in the digiphone, not having got a response from SERaMACs. She closes her eyes and lies down on the comfy… no. Soggy bed.

  Thanks John.

  Eh who is she kidding, it's still comfortable from her perspective.

  She keeps her eyes closed as her thoughts drift through her mind.

  Just as her consciousness grabs onto one and prepares to drift into a dream, she asks SERaMACs a last question for today.

  “SERaMACs, can you play me a random song?”

  “Now Playing: Cozy And Numbed by Mick Lloyd.”

  SERaMACs responds.