Folded somewhere in a deep recess of the Quantum blockchain sat a virtual realm of which many could argue had no place being there.
Far from the highly polished and stylised beauty of the wider Qblock, with its multitudinous web of networks and sidechains, designed to encapsulate and enchant. This place by contrast was barely a low-res simulacrum of a virtual environment, it seemed more like an abstract representation of the blockchain.
Malcraft stood, or perhaps he floated, he could not quite tell, the gloomy blue-grey boundaries of his environment did not allow for any feature definition. He felt that there were many around him, but only one spoke.
“K-Rox has accepted aZorl’s quest, he will be on the MarsChain in less than an objective day. Can you follow him?”
The voice issued without inflection, however Malcraft always felt that anytime he spoke to one of them, the cadence of their voices, never seemed to quite be what they should.
It was made all the more disconcerting in these environments, as it was impossible to tell whether you were internalising or actually speaking.
Malcraft turned his head as if to speak to someone on his right, though to him it was as if he had completed the manoeuvre without actually moving.
“Isn’t that a question for you?”
He asked.
“We can give you the means Malcraft . . . ”
“If you mean can I handle being in Krusher9 again, then yes; I can do it.”
The voice surveyed Malcraft, he thought back to what they had asked him to do last time, could he really go through all that again? He needed more time to think, he slowed the time in the environment to a near standstill as he contemplated on.
Malcraft’s strengths were his singlemindedness, and his willingness to kill; these were rare traits in 23rd century human society, Malcraft’s weaknesses couldn’t be allowed to overshadow his unique skills.
The only worry that he and the other Illuminated Ones had, was that they couldn’t control Malcraft. If he did something rash, like killed or seriously injured K-Rox, it could go very badly. No amount of behind-the-curtain magic would be able to stop the wheels of justice grinding into action, he would receive a full and complete personality cleanse, he would essentially be useless to them.
The voice allowed time to run at a pace Malcraft would consider normal before he spoke to him again.
“As soon as he identifies Asimov, you are to destroy it, and bring me its source code.”
“Nothing’s changed then.”
“I wouldn’t say that, the man that hate’s you and would see you dead, though he doesn’t know it, is now technically on the same side as you. I’d say that was a fairly major change.”
Malcraft’s laugh manifested itself within the environment they were in, as a raw, quasi-metallic scraping, the entity that was speaking to Malcraft thought to itself, that had it teeth, and a head to house them in, then they would definitely be on edge right now.
It surveyed Malcraft in silence, he still chose to use that avatar, how long had it been? Was it even possible for him to stay sane?
These were all questions that the Voice simply couldn’t afford to even contemplate answering, too much was at stake. Mad or no, Malcraft had a mission to complete, and he wasn’t being dramatic in thinking that his, and his kind’s very existence depended on the success of that mission.
Previous Chapters
Asimov's Ghost - Chapter 15 - At The Edge Of Madness
Asimov's Ghost - Chapter 14 - A Sense Of The Real
Asimov's Ghost - Chapter 13 - The Search For Truth
Asimov's Ghost - Chapter 12 - Empires
Original artwork by @nekromarinist
Original words by Cryptogee