Resonance

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Written by: Oneimare

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Arc 4 – Desert Summit Chapter 1 – The Sun and the Void

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By the time the shambling abhorrences drove Ash from the dark dank tunnels into the wreck of Equestria, the endless winter made sure her realm would be limited solely to Canterlot’s decaying ruins. The unfortunate filly had grown into a young mare savouring the fallout of the grand catastrophe, witnessing the kingdom of ice and terror from every angle possible, and yet—it had never struck her as deep as the sight before her eyes.

In the tears rolling down her cheeks, a sprawling vista reflected—a sun-blasted desert of caked slug and bleached dirt.

The industrial heart that extruded poison with its every erratic beat rotted away and so the toxic wasteland, too, exhaled its final deadly breath. Although years—centuries—would pass before the first blade of grass poked through the crust of molten salts, the air above the desolated valley already seared lungs and corroded steel no more.

The sky, even blighted by dust and ashes billowing from that massive grave of the fertile soil—it knew no limit. The maliciously whistling wind was all bark and no bite—no frostbite; nor did the ancient undying throats chanted to its flute.

Lifeless and discoloured, it lacked one more element—snow… for the most part; at least, nowhere near holding a candle to the alabaster peaks of Canterlot. The azure dome replacing the blizzard’s gizzard didn’t mean the white nightmare’s abrupt end—the raging herd shed ice in the excess and it piled even outside the crumbled wall.

That all got but a momentary glance, however.

The incandescent gold poured into the obsidian depths of Ash’s eyes the moment she emerged from the shadows of the underground passage. Her gaze became one with the brilliant radiance as she stared right into its source, her world reduced to only the effulgent core of the firmament.

After a few minutes of staring at their unmoving companion, Nameless broke the silence, ignorant of its reverent meaning, “Remark: Ash’s designation prevents retinal damage from exposure to direct sunlight.”

“Data: Ash should be grateful,”they continued to drone as the stunned alicorn remained unchanging in her awe. “Object of gratitude: not found.”

Similarly, it failed to produce any response from the enchanted mare; the bleached skull tilted as they mulled over their own words. The spell faded away as quickly as it came—shrugged off by Nameless declaring, “Data: nonsensical—further analysis required. Proceed with: social interaction.”

Though this time their words weren’t meant for the sun-stricken mare, they did bring back Ash from her daze—she graced her companion with a grin threatening to split her head in two.

“Forget your data, Nameless! It’s beautiful.”

An unrelenting stare of empty eye sockets settled on her face, and Ash’s beaming smile faltered. Over and over its unsettling nature stirred the alicorn’s mind—she yearned for the memories missing; each time Ash gazed into the eyes of someone she should have known as well as her own reflection.

This time the mysterious bones spoiled her exaltation with another kind of distress—it sent her mind running with attempts to crack the meaning of the hollow glower.

Soon enough, she deciphered the mute message.

The mare’s expression fell, followed by the curtain of her unkempt overgrown mane, as she hung her head, muttering, “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“Ash’s assessment: wrong,” Nameless’ lifeless voice announced. “Objective: not reached.”

She gave them a glance, but before it decided betwixt hope or plunging deeper into disappointment, the haze of horizon stole her attention from peering into Nameless’ ghastly visage.

What seemed to be a dream turned real had been rapidly bleeding its lustre; however gloriously the Sun shone down on the scenery, its beauty stood powerless to blind Ash—a veritable valley of death stretched away from the two travellers until it joined with the tainted sky. It didn’t bother the alicorn as much as the unknown that lay beyond—if that dead world had something else to offer.

Ash didn’t consider it before—leaving Canterlot might have improved the chances of her survival, but didn’t absolve her from the fight for it. Maybe she should have asked herself earlier, if it would be worth sating her craving for the sunlight, only for it to be the last thing to witness.

The alicorn’s dark gaze returned to Nameless and she admitted with a heavy sigh, “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.”

“Extracted data,” Nameless offered and their next words sent a chill down Ash’s spine that had nothing to do with the frozen tomb nearby—she recognised her own voice, “Then I’ll become strong and return for you. For them.”

“What else have you ‘extracted’ from my head?” Ash hissed, half-heartedly glaring at the skeletal equine; her body ached for many a reason and the pains generously contributed by Nameless lingered still.

They ignored the question to proceed with a monotone message, “Ash’s objective: definitive. Nameless’ objective: definitive. Overlap of steps towards the objectives: possible.”

Although cautiously, Ash’s chapped lips stretched into a small smile. The distant land of mystery, just as unimaginable as the Sun once was, seemed less daunting now. With Nameless by her side, the chances of her survival grew a bit; even if that increase came with its unique worries.

Her eyes sparkling with hope, Ash looked at them, “So, our first step is..?”

“Error: Not found.”

A moment of consideration revealed to Ash that she actually had no need for directions from Nameless’ morbid collection of knowledge—common sense suggested that getting out of that vast desert had to come before anything else.

Nothing in the view hinted at any direction to pick would be wrong… except one.

Looking behind her shoulder, the mare glared at the city that had continuously foisted to her a burial under the snow. Another victim of Canterlot caught her bitter gaze with neither objection nor approval. Nevertheless, when Ash trotted away from her once cradle, they followed.

Ash plodded through the snow, no different from her daily Canterlot routine. Her steps, though stumbling, steadily measured the time and the white drifts peppering the porous dried dirt had become sparse. Eddies of dust had begun to rise in the wake of her hooves; the silt stung her nose and eyes.

Happy for the change—and novelty to some degree—the alicorn slightly sped up in the addition to the terrain favouring that already. Her wide eyes jumped from one ashen dune to another, marvelling at their form, colour and size. With amazement she noted the Sun rolling across the firmament—her eye had barely caught the movement.

Whenever she glanced back, the Sun outlined a skeletal figure against the hoary sindon quivering on the corpse of Canterlot. The statuesque equine knew neither joy nor boredom and marched with all the grace of a machine, the reflective skull pointed right ahead.

Ash came to a halt.

Her legs buzzed with exertion—they weren’t trained for a trip longer than a lightning-fast dash betwixt two piles of snow. Whereas moisture flooded her maddeningly itching eyes, her tongue scraped against teeth in vain attempts to exile grains of sand from her mouth. A low wail came from her belly, reminding her that she, like always, ran on fumes.

And just like always, she ignored that sound. Choking on the acrid taste of the arid air, she still managed to fill up her lungs only to loudly exhale a heartbeat later.

The dust dancing above the desolation blurred her vision, but that barely mattered as fundamentally the view had remained the same. With her tail dragging across her hoofprints, she forced herself to press onward, but a dozen steps later the landscape refused to change—reveal if it had any end to its decayed monotony.

Fearing that her hooves would carry her but one more step and then buckle, she turned to the only thing in that desert that wasn’t ash.

“Nameless?” Not waiting for a witty response, she hastily added. “Do you have any data on flying?”

“Response: affirmative.”

Rolling her eyes—a gesture wasted—Ash continued, trying to inject more patience into her voice than she possessed, “Could you share it with me?”

Nameless gazed at the alicorn for an uncomfortable stretch of time before they stated, “Warning: direct transmission of data may cause irreversible damage.”

Throbbing headache mercilessly reminded Ash about her experience with Nameless’ methods; shuddering, she grimaced and asked, “Uh… what about a more ‘traditional’ method?”

A blank look served her as an answer; though, every look Nameless gave could be categorised as such, anyhow.

“Could you teach me?” she reiterated.

The bizarre equine hesitated with the reply again.

“Analysis: insufficient intelligence level.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ash instantly bristled; continuing to glare at Nameless, she demanded before they would elaborate, “Just tell me what I need to know.”

“Data: Flight or flying is the process by which an object moves through a space without contacting any planetary surface. This can be achieved by generating aerodynamic lift associated with gliding or propulsive thrust, aerostatically using buoyancy, or by ballistic movement—”

“I got it.” Ash raised her hoof and hastily added, “I mean, I didn’t, but… yeah.”

To her relief—and surprise—Nameless abstained from any comments, though, Ash still visibly deflated and longingly looked at the sky strewn with ragged cotton clouds.

After all, if flying was that easy, everyone would be doing it… and every pegasus or gryphon did.

That thought reflected on her muzzle with an expression just as bitter. Soon it vanished, when the disgruntled mare tapped into the last reserves of her strength, bolstered herself and despondently pressed on into the desert—out of spite.

Akin to a leaden blanket, the exhaustion borne from the lack of sleep fell on Ash’s shoulders, dragging her wings down so the feathery tips left two lines in the dust.

The prospect of setting for a nap under the open sky, with only dirt to dig herself into as the closest to a shelter, deterred her from catching up on the missed rest; that and imagining Nameless standing over her, patiently waiting, watching…

Every so often she glanced back to check on the unchanging figure trailing her like a shadow—literally; their hooves somehow made no sound and their gait always perfectly matched that of Ash, keeping them at an unexpectedly respectful distance for someone who had a habit of invading the minds of the others.

Sure as death, the amalgam of bone and metal sent a chill down her spine.

However, the answer of why gnawed on Ash’s mind much more fiercely than the voice of reason that kept glueing her eyes to the macabre sight. If she ignored common sense and looked past the skeleton and arcanium splinters, something deep inside someone she called her friend still evoked fear in her.

One of those times when she turned to check on her rigidly grinning companion, she blurted out, “What is it like?”

“Request: clarification.”

Ash sifted through the disorderly mass of half-thoughts and wonderings, all boiling down to, “What do you see?”

However, that question didn’t ring through the air growing cold with the advancing sunset.

She might not be smart enough to understand the intricacies of flight, but that was within her understanding—Nameless perceived the reality through their collection of data. However, in the end, they saw the same world—just with vastly different eyes; though, something told Ash she would never be able to do the same, no matter how smart she got.

“Never mind,” the alicorn threw over her shoulder.

That wasn’t it—not the problem.

Clearing her mind as best as she could, Ash started from the beginning.

They both had been wandering the dead city for a decade simply for the sake of survival. Not exactly correct in the case of Nameless who only sought their purpose in life; but as they failed to find that in Canterlot, their objective shared the fate of many in that place—it froze, leaving them aimless.

What changed?

Discord.

Though, the draconequus truly changed Ash before he teleported them out of the depot together—when she vowed to come back for him and the rest of the unfortunate survivors.

The thought found her like an icicle dropping from a roof; she sharply turned on her heels to face the moving effigy.

“Nameless?”

As their head turned to regard Ash with an expressionless stare, an ominous sensation settled in the alicorn’s gut—as if Nameless somehow knew what she was about to ask and didn’t want that to happen.

For a few heartbeats, Ash struggled to form a coherent phrase from the buzzing swarm in her mind; slowly, as she still couldn’t believe what she was saying and expected voicing it out would prove her wrong, the mare uttered, “You keep saying that my designation is controlling the Sun, but you also confirmed that my objective is to become stronger so I can save my friend and Canterlot’s survivors. Following your logic, shouldn’t I ignore the latter?”

Nameless stood still as a statue and similarly mute, yet it differed from how they usually appeared.

“Nameless—” The artificial voice abruptly died, then they tried again, “Data suggests—”

Finally, the words formed and though they came from no mouth like before, they bore a subtle trace that Ash couldn’t pin down—that inflexion turned the message belonging to someone alive.

“Helping your friend.”

The alicorn’s wide eyes remained glued to the bone that showed signs of life that wasn’t there before, yet the question of where did it come from remained—the missing piece that locked the whole puzzle together and made it such.

Leaving Nameless to their dismay, Ash returned to cracking their mystery as she shuffled through the grit towards the unknown.

The dust rising from those plains of silence had become one with the fog plaguing Ash’s mind, making it impossible to tell how long she had trotted, half-awake. It could be a thousand steps or a dozen; the shifting sand swallowed her hoofsteps almost as soon as her hooves rose to leave the next ones and the Sun seemed to be frozen on the horizon.

Condemned by stupidity to trod the dust as if she had no wings and also denied sleep, the alicorn sought the last possible way to aid her journey.

“Does your data suggest any food in our vicinity?”

She postponed asking that question for as long as possible because the answer to it could also explain why anybody tried to flee Canterlot so rarely.

“Observation: loss of short term memory. Inquiry: has Ash received brain damage?”

Ash’s eyes unfocused as she had to recall the recent events and figure out what Nameless alluded to; having that figured out, the mare glared at them as another realisation flashed through her mind—that was a waste of time.

“It’s me who should be asking that,” the alicorn grumbled; internally she wondered how long it would take for Nameless’ way of speaking to drive her crazy. Before her companion got a chance to respond to that and also unknowingly contribute to the other question, Ash spoke, “I know you can teleport food. But we aren’t in Canterlot anymore.”

“Nameless’ ability parameters: distance is not a parameter.”

The mare didn’t get a chance to ruminate at that statement as the air shimmered and a sound of displaced air announced the arrival of her meal—a few cans hovered above the ground, right within Ash’s reach. Grabbing the preserves, she gracelessly plopped on the ground.

She momentarily hesitated before digging in, but stopped her hoof in time from offering some to Nameless—the last thing she needed to accompany her meal were snide remarks about her memory.

Mumbling her thanks, Ash pulled the metal ring to discover unidentifiable mush vaguely smelling of borderline rotting vegetation with a hint of mushrooms; letting out a sigh and direly hoping that it was the right kind of mushrooms, she pinched her nose and slurped the ‘food’.

Putting a conscious effort to concentrate on anything but the taste, the alicorn let her mind wander.

Ash nearly choked as her mouth refused to let its questionable contents down her throat, though they deserved only the part of the blame; thankfully Nameless didn’t worsen the situation by another of her neutral observations.

Barely managing to force the slimy blob into her stomach, she gulped the air and tried her hardest to ignore the taste that shrivelled her tongue and churned her insides.

Finally, Ash was able to speak.

“You can teleport food from anywhere and yet you had been walking around Canterlot for ten years while we all starved? I don’t fully get all that Lord of Chaos business, but what excuse do you have?”

The reasonable part of her mind demanded to shut up and not provoke someone who not only just ensured her survival and was necessary for it to continue—someone who also had the means to put an end to it. There also was a whisper that burned her conscience with a hunger for the answer.

Nameless met the accusation unflinchingly. Though their answer’s coldness didn’t differ from any other statement, it still slapped Ash like a gust of Windigo breath.

“Value in preserving life forms: not found—unless they possess valuable data.”

The can bounced off the ground and the alicorn abruptly stood up.

The burning sensation in her consciousness turned searing and then she heard a voice—so much like her thoughts, but not the same. It reminded her that Ash beat Nameless in a fight once—they weren’t a threat… nothing would be if she were to give in.

Dismissing that whisper, the mare barked, “I’m just a piece of data for you isn’t it?”

“Ash doesn’t possess…” Nameless trailed off and their lifeless tone subtly shifted as they tried again, “Ash doesn’t possess perspective—”

Oblivious to those modulations or even the rest of Nameless’ answer, Ash cut them off, “No, I do! From my perspective, you’re worse than a monster—having the power to make the world better but choosing not to!”

Suddenly, the empty eyes of the bone and metal equine peered into the alicorn’s crimson eyes with an intensity they had no right to possess.

“Ash’s ability analysis: Ash herself is also capable of—”

“Shut up!”

The dirt cracked as the fire stole the last of its moisture, it blackened into cinders and the ashes flaked away, rising to the blazing Sun.

Ash’s confused stare searched around until it caught a glimpse of her coat—white yet smouldering as flames fruitlessly gnawed on her flesh. She screwed her eyes shut, refusing to see the rest of her alien body; her strange hooves all but sprawled as the mare backpedalled, even as she knew the futility and senselessness of that motion.

Whereas fire licked her pelt, ice crept in her veins—from the sensation of being overwhelmed by the destructive desire as much as from knowing that Nameless stood right in front of her, unbeknownst of Ash’s struggle and desperate want for that incinerating intent to fade away; the conversation that had lead to this point forgotten in the shadow of paralysing terror—would he actually be able to survive Nameless’ unbound potential?

The customary coldness of Nameless’ words splashed Ash’s mind like a bucket of frigid water.

“Interruption: not constructive to data exchange.”

Her eyes snapped open, wide as moons, but the alicorn no longer found herself burning; for a heartbeat, she thought the exhaustion and hunger took their toll in such a feverish fashion, but then her gaze fell on coal-black hoofprints in the mud that perfectly matched her cracked hooves.

She took a deep breath and dared to glance at Nameless—nothing betrayed the strange equine’s opinion on the transpired. Looking at their grinning skull, she couldn’t help but recall what led to this whole situation—in a fresh flash of anger.

“What else can you do but choose not to?”

“Discord’s interference: not found. Nameless’ ability: no limits.”

If Nameless’ mechanical voice brought clarity to Ash’s thoughts before, that statement scattered them on the wind with a thunderous explosion. They turned into the possibilities that multiplied, merged to split again—until her mind imploded with them converging into a single thought hanging in the void of utter bewilderment.

“Why?” Knowing that would follow such a simple question, she squeezed out of herself, staring at Nameless in disbelief and confusion, “Why… why won’t you do anything?”

“Reason: not found. Objective: determine Nameless’ designation.”

A roar of crackling flames filled Ash’s mind, challenging her to ‘to designate that bitch into a puddle of molten metal’. Smoke obscured her vision and yet the alicorn didn’t stir, as amidst the inferno of her consciousness a realisation dawned.

Ash kept comparing herself to Nameless as if they and she walked the parallel paths—after all, they had so much in common and shared the same journey. It never occurred to her that it might be a prolonged crossing point—for they might have so different starting points, despite both being dwellers of Canterlot.

Moisture gathered in her eyes as she dared to disturb the memories of her fillyhood—parents and friends compensating the uncaring and lethal reality of the Deep Tunnels with all they could give to each other—something that no mutation and no horror could snuffle in their hearts.

Who was supposed to be there to reach for Nameless? To show them a path so they wouldn’t be lost in the dark cold world?

Who even was them?

Not a pony, not a mutant, not even an equinoid… A being that could do anything, even if it didn’t know why it should.

A god stood before Ash.

Her moon-eyed gaze went past the bone, catching the gleam of that lay under—a metal with a strange gleam to it, the vestiges of a statue that Nameless tried to emulate so dutifully; the alicorn always so fixated on the bones of her ‘kin’, she never paid the proper attention to the rest of their body.

“Who you were… What have you been doing before you started collecting the data?”

Both Ash’s and Nameless’ heads snapped to the source of a new voice—a unicorn mare a few lengths away.

“Being me,” she said.

As if she didn’t have an alicorn and an alicorn’s skeleton staring at her, the delicate lavender unicorn sat onto the glassed sand like on a cushion, neatly wrapping her tail around her hooves.

Her expression showed nothing but patience; maybe a hint of mystery, exacerbated by her coat shimmering unnaturally in the crimson rays of the setting Sun.

Nameless’ rickety frame surged forward, rushing to the unicorn with such haste, that their hooves barely touched the ground. The same drive twisted their words, exchanging their mechanical rhythm for the cadence of urgency.

“Progenitor: discovered—commencing data extraction.”

The moment they announced their ill-promising intent, Ash pounced after them, her lips parted, ready to unleash a harsh reprimand.

It never came, however—Nameless recoiled, their charge cut abrupt; their splintered metal hooves dug into the dust to keep their whole figure steady and seemingly together. Then her limbs carried them back, away from the unicorn.

“No,” she calmly said with a smile, amiable and enigmatic in equal measure.

Something shifted in Nameless’ stance; their posture spoke of determination burning in the space betwixt warped arcanium and old bones.

Ash sensed it in the air—her horn tinged from the nearby flare of a force invisible yet tremendous; a gust of aetherial wind blasted back her mane.

The bones adoring Nameless’ frame rattled and the metal of the rest of their body whined, ringing, as they fell to their knees.

Before she even realised that, Ash found herself standing betwixt them and the strange unicorn; wind tugged on her unfurled wings and a whisper in the back of her mind tugged on her horn with a promise of all-incinerating light.

Ignoring the latter, she warned the mare, “Stop doing that to them! Leave Nameless alone!”

“Nameless?” Confusion glazed the unicorn’s violet eyes, widening slightly; a mix of mirth and something unreadable quickly replaced it as she squinted. “I’m afraid they can’t come in contact with the Unity. That would be… unproductive, for all the parties involved.”

Ash barely registered the emotions flickering through the mare’s eyes as she struggled for the reins of her own.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Warily glancing at where the blizzard disrupted the horizon, she demanded, “Are you one of the Prophet’s ‘ghosts’?”

“So that’s how he calls them. Interesting…” The unicorn tapped her chin, her eyes narrowing once more, laden with thought.

The sand rustled as a bone-encrusted statue raised behind Ash; the skull peeking at the mare from behind the alicorn’s plumage snapped the mare out of her reverie and she promptly introduced herself.

“I’m the Machine Goddess.”

A heavy silence followed her words; the goddess herself keenly studied the faces before her (or the lack of). A shadow of disappointment momentarily darkened her face when neither questioned her appearance.

Her eyes, no longer searching, met Ash’s and she stated, “First, I’m to inform you that the day and night cycle is disrupted—that caused quite a commotion.”

The alicorn answered her with a choking sound; when Ash regained her composure—somewhat, she blurted, “I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

The Machine Goddess raised a hoof with a friendly smile.

“The problem is fixed… temporarily.” Her tone shifted, losing none of its benevolence, but gaining an edge hinting at grave consequences were her words not taken seriously. “However, from now on the Sun requires your direct control.”

Her mouth remained open for a heartbeat—which she didn’t possess—then it closed, partially because Ash stared at her in abject horror. Her eyes had unfocused as her mind tried and repeatedly failed to fully realise the weight of her new responsibility; starting with the simple fact she did even what sunrise looked like.

“But…” she stammered, her head shaking as her gaze grew fully vacant; her ears plastered themselves against her head. Her quivering lips uttered, “But I don’t know what to do…”

The Machine Goddess looked slightly up to meet two empty eye sockets; to no surprise, they conveyed absolutely nothing—Nameless didn’t stir at all.

“Your… companion should know.”

Ash followed her eyes, but the petrified equine remained stiff.

Considering that Nameless found her intelligence lacking even for such a simple thing as flying, Ash couldn’t help but wonder how she was supposed to learn that. With a tremendous effort of will, she pushed that worry aside and looked back at the Machine Goddess.

“What is the second thing?” A drop of sweat left a trail on her grimy coat; she gulped. “Or third?”

A kindly smile once more materialised on the shimmering muzzle. “Only one more—I’m also to inform you that a meeting takes place southwest from here. You might want to attend it.”

“Why?”

The kindness of her grin faltered for mischief to shine through the cracks of the mask.

“It might give you some ideas.”

Glaring at her, Ash grumbled, “You’re not helping.”

The alicorn’s attitude failed to bring any change to the Machine Goddess’s cryptic expression; she only added, “If you agree to come, I will open a portal there—that’s all I can offer to you at the moment.”

Before Ash could consider what her offer could entail or even finally ask a question of why she was talking with a living deity—another one… or what was going on in general, Nameless suddenly thawed. They walked around Ash to face the Machine Goddess, or rather tower over the scintillating unicorn.

“Request… Correction: demand—data. Progenitor—responsible for Nameless’s creation. Objective: determine Nameless’ designation.”

They succeeded where Ash failed—their words shattered the amicable mask; the unicorn flickered and in her place a much more imposing figure appeared… that shared an uncanny resemblance to the metal splinters hiding under the alicorn bones.

In uneasy silence, sorrow and guilt fought for the dominion over the arcanium face. Neither prevailed when the Machine Goddess quietly spoke.

“I’ll be honest with you—that was an accident. When my magic whisked Seven away, I thought only an empty shell remained at that dark temple.”

“Statement: mistake,” a tone drier than the sand around them informed her.

The Machine Goddess winced, a grimace blemishing the perfect features of her divine visage as she averted her gaze from the alicorn remains mutely judging her.

“I know,” she finally said, her admission accompanied by a heavy sigh; when the deity continued, her eyes returned to Nameless, darkened with trepidation. “The question is… Should I be sorry? Do you want me to undo it?”

Ash pressed herself to Nameless side and for once she didn’t try to ignore the fiery whisper in the back of her mind; but before the alicorn gave in to the immolating offer, she looked at Nameless, waiting for their answer together with the Machine Goddess.

Nameless returned to resembling a statue, but that didn’t last for long; taking a step forward, so a hoof would barely pass a distance betwixt their skull and the Machine Goddess’s mask, they firmly stated, “Nameless’ designation: not found. Request: designation.”

The Machine Goddess glanced aside, at Nameless’ companion—friend; however, her eyes didn’t bother to meet those of the tensed mare—they briefly stopped at her cutie mark before returning to peering into the voids of the bleached bone.

“You don’t need me to answer that.”

Nameless mirrored the motion, though didn’t follow it with any words of their own; but their hollow gaze lingered on Ash long enough for the mare to fidget—she never liked her flanks getting attention.

When Nameless’ eyeless stare left Ash’s rump, it slid past the Machine Goddess, searching for something in the horizon line where the dark landscape began to fuse with the blackening sky.

“Data suggestion: no match found. Objective: no updates—proceeding with the current task,” they announced; the emotionless voice somehow sounding such on purpose.

Ash gave one more distrustful glance to the Machine Goddess, then addressed Nameless, “Should we go with her?”

“Possibility: new data—importance unpredictable,” Nameless commented after a moment of consideration.

The only possibility Ash cared about was the chance to get out of the desert or at least come closer to its border—without using her hooves. That, and the vague promise of the mechanical deity did manage to awake some itching curiosity in her, secondary that might be to her goal and the needs of her body.

She nodded to the Machine Goddess. “I guess that’s a ‘yes’.”

To her disappointment, when the reality split to reveal a distant place it showed the same expanse of sand; nevertheless, Ash stepped through the arcane gate.

Author's Note

English isn't my native language; though I try my best and use various tools to aid myself, I'm aware that a result is far from perfect. That said, if you notice anything that you think should be fixed—please let me know.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far.
Stay awesome.