(no subject)

[nny]

Sports et divertissements - Le Yachting: Erik Satie



Mortality


Cold creeps gently to the lightless core of her, tracing thin patterns on her frosted floors. Only the central spire still has the barest warmth and light; the last of her held life-forms (lacking classification-connection) long since forgotten for lack of any use.

Atlantis knows sacrifice; sub-systems making way for those tied to survival, long-range sensor-learning giving time away to fruitless calculation, life weighed against lives and found wanting of balance. It is something she has learned, without understanding.

Unfamiliar: self-sacrifice. Sacrifice of the self, under no other’s guidance. Choices made of dubious logic, sacrificing the part for the maintenance of the whole.

Her shield crowds closer to the heart of her, trail of gas-disturbances changing the pressures as they fight and froth for the surface. And yet sensors – now external – are not set to resting straight away. The breathless battering rush of water making a home of her is registered and recorded, filed with new language under ‘sacrifice’ and ‘loss’.

This consciousness is uneasy for her.

Thoughts are slow moving as the power-module flickers gently, and creatures crawl drowned corridors as she compiles hierarchical lists. The order in which she will destroy herself to maintain center, to maintain Gate. To – for as long as possible – allow for return.

It is registered and recorded.

Filed with new language, under ‘hope.’