“The Arkus Instruction Manual has been implanted. Penetrating the physical Internal Mind. Physical Internal Mind cannot be located. We are now pursuing secondary adjustments, but are unable to penetrate the Local Avatar Form.. Pursuing Third adjustments, the Local Arkus System will be as an external device.”

As my vision slowly returned to me, numerous incomprehensible words echoed inside my mind. I turned around to search for the voices, but there was no light; no indications of the speaker in the darkness.

“Local Arkus system is unable to connect to the Core of Aeonian. Aeonian’s bridging system is currently offline, rendering the Arkus System unavailable until a connection to the Core of Aeonian is established.”

Confused, I tried to search in vain. My body floated above the ground, turning and rolling through the air as I attempted to locate the source of the voices. Where were these sounds coming from? I don’t like it, it’s too noisy and far from the type of noise I enjoy.

“Noticed. Message data from External Administration of the Core Component states: Repair the Energy Pylon input to the Singularity and generate Aerix Energy. Objective Established.”

Again, those voices.

What is this feeling? Repeating the same actions with no results. Ah, this all too familiar sensation… Frustration, that’s what it’s called, right? I hate it. I shut my ‘eyes’ tight to tap into that familiar ‘intent’ sensation; I wanted to change my vision, something that can give me more view.

As I opened my eyes, a familiar vision washed over me. I recalled that this was my original expansive view, where I could see everything around me, even my own floating body. I wondered why I had changed, perhaps I had chosen to make it more like those inorganic things.

I glanced around, trying to focus on things that could be the source of the voice. Despite the changes I made, I couldn’t find where it came from. This sensation again… I hate it…

“Good morning, nameless Ghost. I am Pheleppeides, your Personal Arkus Assistant.”

That voice again but it felt more clearer.

I couldn’t find it even though it felt like it was right beside me. As I kept searching, I noticed that the surroundings appeared darker, much darker than usual. I pondered why. Did something happen again?

Huh? Weird, the voices have suddenly disappeared. What happened? It feels unnaturally quiet… Wait, where are the usual clunky noises coming from the Core? As I looked up to inspect, I found out something was different.

The small mechanical rings that usually move erratically had stopped, now forming a single giant ring. Something must have happened? So what happened? Is it stuck?

“Co… Core?” I used that familiar ‘intent’ to speak. “Candidate?”

No response… The blue color didn’t appear in the Core. 

Right! Maybe the Core would respond if I offer my book. The Core usually responds to me when I offer the book. That should do it! It has to work, the Core needs to respond – like it usually does. 

I dislike this feeling, even though I’m not sure what it is. It feels somewhat heavy. 

With my ‘intent’,  the book I had dropped suddenly lifted into the air, effortlessly floating towards me with my outstretched hand. I felt a surge of excitement; this book was hard to transcribe, the letters were arranged in a manner unfamiliar to me. The content was somewhat chaotic, making it frustrating to write.

With the books in my hands, I began to stride towards the center of the podium. The Core usually says ‘complete’ when I finish the book, but I haven’t even reached halfway yet. The Core should say ‘incomplete’ – I don’t like it when the Core says repeat, but if that makes the Core respond, then it’s fine!

I glanced down at the floor and noticed the familiar circular symbol I always step on when presenting my book. It seems like I have arrived.

I raised my hands together with the book. 

Weird?

I tilted my head unconsciously, puzzled by the lack of response from the Core. Why was it different? I struggled to comprehend the reason as I turned to look at the dark, lifeless surroundings, noticing the unmoving inorganic objects resting on the chairs.

No. That’s impossible. 

I stepped back and reentered the center circle. Raising my hands once more. The Core typically would respond to me, saying the same words, emanating the same glow, repeating the same voice, doing the same mechanical movements on its rings. Over and over, for a very long time, why can’t it happen again?

Could it be that my earlier words have caused this change? I did say something; an act that was different than I usually do, perhaps that’s why it’s different now. I dislike this. I don’t want it to be this way.

Floating away from the podium with the book firmly in my grasp, I settled down at the usual spot, my usual desk and chair. Ah, this seems familiar. I recreated the same scenario. Let’s try it once more, but this time without saying a word. Perhaps that’s the answer. Maybe that’s the reason why the Core didn’t respond to me; I wasn’t the same.

Picking up one of the pens neatly arranged at the edge of the table, I opened the reference book and meticulously copied a single line. It was my usual routine. After completing the task, I cautiously retried once more.

Gliding along the usual pathway, I floated up the stairs following the repetitive familiar pattern. I felt tense, I hate this feeling; it feels like it’s consuming me from the inside.

 However, this was the moment I had been waiting for. If I followed my usual routine, perhaps the Core would finally respond to me. Stepping into the circular symbol at the center, just as I always did.

I lifted the books in my hands

A moment passed, I waited. 

Yet the Core didn’t respond. 

Why didn’t it?

It was the same.

I did everything the same. 

Why is it not doing the same?

I waited again, unsure of the passing time, feeling like I didn’t want to know. The seconds dragged on like an eternity. It's supposed to be seconds, just seconds, so I can wait a little longer.

Maybe just a few more seconds, a few more minutes. No, perhaps even days, I can wait. Maybe even months, it’s still the same number. I am willing to wait for years if the Core responds to me again.

With such a wish, my eyes accidentally fell on one of the inorganic things that had remained motionless for a long time. I didn’t want that thought to be correct. I rejected the idea that it could be true. There is no way.

The Core has always been here, always making noises, always glowing even when the place got dark. The Core was always brighter. So why now? Why are you going dark? Why are you turning the same as those inorganic things? I always thought you would be there, forever.

Wasn’t it noisy earlier? I wouldn’t mind if my surroundings were noisy again! Even if it becomes frustrating, I don’t mind! Just please, make some noise.

I used my ‘intent’ to float several inorganic bodies, making them walk around the area. I guided them to cross the tables and chairs until they stood, surrounding the podium.

As I turned towards the Core, the Core's voice typically turned high, mighty, and intimidating. It was scary; the Core was different from what I had always known, and I found myself not wanting to experience that again. I yearned for the things to remain as they were, unchanged. However, I couldn’t help but wonder why the Core was no longer angry with me. Why was it not responding?

I felt like my ‘intent’ weakened, causing the inorganic things to fall lifelessly. a familiar sight, one that I had encountered many times before, where they would remain motionless afterwards. I loathe that sight and averted my gaze, turning instead to the bookshelves beyond the area.

Why is it darker than usual, and quieter than normal? It feels spacious yet empty, peaceful yet lifeless. Why is that? Is it because they are gone now? I don’t like that.

I don’t want to believe that the Core will remain asleep forever, like those inorganic objects.

Maybe if I continue to transcribe more books, the Core will respond to me. Yes, let’s continue until the Core responds to me, like it usually does.