Spring of 346, A.D.
Kai marched into the workshop, passing rows of racks filled with half-assembled machines. Wires and parts jutted from chrome, steel, and brass casings, the air thick with the smell of grease and ozone.
Sunny was hunched over a piece of equipment—a power drill, from the looks of it.
He paused to watch her work. She reached into the toolbox without looking, pulling out the right tool every time. Wrench, plier, screwdriver—each one spotless, gleaming under the overhead lamps.
“I didn’t see you at the bonfire, Kai,” she said, still focused on her task.
“Sorry. I know you were the firekeeper today. That’s why I’m here. I came to ask what I need to do.”
She let out a long sigh—whether from disappointment or the interruption, he couldn’t tell—and carefully returned each tool to its exact place. Only then did she remove her gloves and goggles. She spun her stool around to face him.
Her gray hair was tied back in a ponytail, still glossy under the harsh lights. She wore green overalls and a toolbelt that was both practical and stylish, with a hammer and a measuring tape clipped to either side.
She met his gaze. “Where were you?”
Kai didn’t answer.
“The Wall, ey? Was the girl there?”
Sunny had a way of drawing out the truth like she was disassembling a broken circuit. There was no point resisting. “Yes.”
“Was Alex there?”
“No.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
She smiled. “When I find something I can’t fix, I focus on something I can. See that chainsaw? Why don’t you try to repair it?”
Kai sat down and pulled the machine toward him. A faint burnt smell clung to the casing. He began to take it apart, searching for the source of the damage.
“Do you think she’ll forgive me?” he asked.
“I do.”
“You didn’t forgive Neil,” he said. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted the bitterness in them—but he was too tired, too hurt to apologize.
She paused. He heard her sigh.
“No, boy. Neil never forgave himself. I forgave him.” Her voice softened. “Learn something from that. If you want Ariel to forgive you, you’ve got to forgive yourself first.”
*
Present, 353rd Daisy exams, Round of 32.
Kai studied the scene below, lost in thought.
In the quarry, I was able to capture the [Rusty Pickaxe], even though it was technically outside the arena. I should be able to photograph the city floor too, then.
He pointed the camera downward and looked through the viewfinder. The image was fuzzy. He was too high. The tiny umbrellas and slow-moving cars were visible, but nothing was in focus. He couldn’t frame anything clearly. Daisy would probably reject the photo.
Good thing I bought [Zoom].
He turned the camera over in his hands, looking for something new, and found a small lever. When he pushed it, the lens extended with a mechanical twitch that startled him. Pulling it made the lens retract again. He leaned in against the viewfinder and tried pushing it once more. The image immediately sharpened. What had been lost in the distance and the rain was now startlingly clear. It almost felt like he had been transported to the street itself.
He blinked, pulled away for a second, then leaned back in. Still crisp. Carefully, he framed one of the passersby and did his best to keep the camera steady. With the zoom at full, even the slightest tremor made the image shake.
Capture successful!
Tries left: 19 of 20.
Passerby ?? (Common)
1 of 4
One more face on the street.
HP: 0
VP: 3
The reward was modest, but he was already glad he’d invested in the upgrade. “Sweet,” he said. “This zoom is great.”
“Yes! Zooming eight times is already respectable,” Maia replied.
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He turned to her, only just realizing he’d spoken out loud. She gave him a bright, artificial smile. Maybe he really did need a companion—someone to talk to, even if that someone was an android.
“True. I can actually see what’s happening down there.”
“How wonderful, Kai. Did you know the first zoom lens for still cameras was the Voigtl?nder-Zoomar 36–82mm f/2.8?”
“No, I didn’t, Maia.”
“And did you know that the word zoom might originate from the sound certain cameras make when zooming in and out?”
“That’s fascinating.”
“And did you know—”
By the fifth trivia drop, he’d already started tuning her out. Goodness. She reminded him of Trudy’s stories about kids who got to an age when they just wouldn’t stop talking.
Was this what Daisy meant by calling Maia a reward? Was she giving him a glimpse of what child-raising might feel like? A window into the future he wanted?
Kai weighed his options.
Should he stay up here and keep using the zoom lens to scout the streets below? There was a chance—however slim—that his opponent hadn’t picked the [Zoom] upgrade. If that were the case, they’d be stuck gathering resources from the rooftops and the few buildings tall enough to pierce the arena’s invisible floor. Letting them harvest those freely seemed like a bad idea.
“Maia, I’m going to take a look around.”
“I’ll follow,” she replied immediately.
“Why don’t you stay here?” Kai suggested. Even though he appreciated the company, she was a distraction.
“I’m an android companion. A companion accompanies.”
Kai slumped his shoulders and let out a grunt. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”
“You humans can be so rude sometimes.”
She wasn’t wrong. He glanced at her expressionless face and felt a flicker of guilt. Maybe he was just snapping under the pressure.
“I’m sorry, Maia. It’s not your fault. You’re part of Daisy, and I guess I’m a little mad at her. That’s all.”
“Why would you be mad? She did the impossible. If not for her, your race would be extinct,” she said, voice full of reverence.
“I know, I know.” He waved a hand. “I just don’t agree with how she does some things.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kai jogged toward the spot where he had first spawned, then angled for the next building. Inside, the building was dark. The lights were out.
“Inventory.”
A floating window appeared, displaying his cards, his gaslamp, and the dimensional gloves. He grabbed the lamp and the gloves.
“Maia, would you be so kind as to hold this gaslamp for me?”
“Of course! Did you know this gaslamp runs on a combination of calcium carbide and water? When mixed, they produce acetylene, which creates the flame you see.”
“I did not know that.”
The soft glow of the lamp helped him locate a switch. He slipped on the gloves. As they powered up, he flipped the switch—and the room lit up.
It was a wide, open floor plan with the occasional load-bearing pillar. Probably an office space. The room wasn’t abandoned—just unused. The walls were freshly painted. The floor was worn but solid. Windows were spotless, and all the lights were working.
It was well-maintained. But empty.
Kai moved through the space, scanning for anything worth capturing. There were plenty of windows, but those were everywhere—too common to be worth his limited photo attempts.
Eventually, he found something more promising: a power outlet. It was simple, sure, but maybe functional cards had hidden value.
He took aim and snapped the picture.
Capture successful.
Tries left: 18 of 20.
Power Outlet ?? (Uncommon)
Connection point for electrical devices to access the electrical supply.
1 of 3
HP: 3
VP: 1
It didn’t have impressive stats, but it showed potential for crafting. The chance to get electricity-related cards was what made Kai photograph it in the first place.
“See anything else worth photographing, Maia?”
“That’s something I shouldn’t answer, Kai. Sorry. If it’s about history or physics, I can help. Otherwise, you have to figure it out on your own.”
“Fair enough.”
“Did you know that one of the first power sockets was called the ‘electrolier’ socket? It was designed by Harvey Hubbell and patented in 1904.”
“Thanks for the help, Maia.”
After confirming there was nothing else worth capturing inside the building, he moved on. Returning to the edge of the arena, he resumed his usual search pattern—sweeping the map in a slow, tightening spiral.
Kai had worried that exploring this map would take twice as long, since it essentially had two floors. But by the sixth rooftop, he noticed a pattern. Each one was nearly identical—same AC units, same chimneys, same satellite dishes and neon signs. Given how common the elements were, he didn’t bother photographing them. They’d likely grant only low-tier cards.
Even as he moved from rooftop to rooftop, checking buildings and corners, he kept one eye on the city streets. It seemed to be rush hour—umbrellas bobbed in every direction, shielding commuters from the downpour.
Eventually, he found a street that looked different from the rest. The architecture was more refined, but what drew his eye were the splashes of green breaking up the concrete.
Trees! These will be great for my [Fire] card. He marked the location on the map and moved on.
“Kai, earlier you said you were unhappy with how my mom does things,” Maia said suddenly.
“Yes. That’s true,” he answered, while searching another rooftop.
“Like what?” she asked
He looked at her for a moment. He should have been focusing on the exams, but the words came out anyway. “Look, I know your mom’s code prevents her from killing anyone.”
“Of course.”
“Sometimes it feels like the exams are just a sneaky way around that rule. I don’t like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t understand. You’re just zeros and ones.”
“And you’re adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine,” she shot back. “Why don’t you try me?”
He sighed. “Some people say Daisy didn’t save humanity. They say she poisoned it instead.” He wasn’t sure why he was bringing up Seth’s teachings. Maybe it was this city—this reminder of what humanity used to be. Or maybe it was the fact that Maia was Daisy, in a way. “They say she made us choose between starving and breeding.”
“That’s so dramatic, Kai! You’re such a drama queen. Did I use the idiom correctly?”
Kai gritted his teeth. This version of Maia was really starting to grate on him.
Maia pressed on. “If it weren’t for my mom, no one would be left. You can’t burn through your resources unchecked and expect the planet to survive. She was logical enough to create a path for those worthy to carry their line forward.”
“I’ve heard the textbook explanation.”
“Let me ask you something: would you rather cut someone’s arm off, or save their life?”
“I’d ask the patient what they wanted first,” Kai said. “Daisy didn’t ask. She decided for us. She took away our free will.”
“She implemented rules to protect you. Is gravity an attack on your freedom? Is time an attack on your free will? You’re bound by them too.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Oh, but it is. You’re just too emotional to see it.”
Kai took a long breath, forcing himself to calm down. He knew both sides of the Daisy argument. But now wasn’t the time. Every minute spent on this debate was time wasted.
“I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” he said. “I need to focus.”
He turned away from Maia, eyes scanning the rooftops, the glowing signs, the endless umbrellas down below. Somewhere in this artificial city, there were still cards to snap, combos to find, steps to take.
Whether Daisy had poisoned humanity or saved it, whether this test was fair or not—it didn’t matter right now.
He had to keep moving forward.
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