Chapter Text
The instructions had been clear. West and down, west and down. The direction of west was up to interpretation, of course, when one was an animal who's brain had only recently been able to understand speech. Something had changed after they had floated around those machines for a long enough period of time. They ate neurons, munching them down because there was nothing else for them to eat in the machine. Unless they tried to eat some of the blue, cancerous goop that seeped from most of the walls. That was off limits, because they knew not whether it was actually food or if it was a predator that would eat them just as quickly.
After those neurons were eaten, they had begun to see odd, golden orbs floating barely above the ground. More directions, even if they weren't the easiest to follow. West and down, as deep into the earth as they could go. Through the wastes of garbage, down past where the wormgrass grew something fierce. Through the dark of systems that no longer had purpose, and down, down they fell. The fall stung, and the slugcat was certain that they had lost a cycle due to the fall. It had killed them, once, they thought, as they pick up a gleaming gold flower and eat it.
Downward they continue. They can sense the rain approaching, but they feel a certain aspect of safety now. They are so far down that the rain hopefully wouldn't reach. If it did, well, they were certain they'd find another golden flower up further ahead to show that they would need to wait for a longer cycle.
The world melted as they descended further. Tinted in gold, as they began to approach where the void fluid pooled. They could not see their own paws anymore, but they began to swim and paddle deeper. Swimming down, down, down as deep as they could. If this was not where they had been instructed to go? They would have a long, long trip back up. The thought lingered in their mind as they swam down, further and further. As their mind began to fade, they felt something grab them. Tugging them along, slinging them around the void sea. They could not see, their eyes shut tight to brace for the ride.
Then, there was light. The slugcat began to swim upwards, towards the white light. Ascension, they finally would be freed from the cycles of life and death and rebirth. They would be free, they would no longer have to struggle. What was ascension like? What was the point? The quest bestowed on to them by blindly following was odd, but it was the only instructions that the slugcat had been given.
Those were questions that the slugcat could not answer. They paddled upwards, further and further. They had been told to go as deep as they could, but their lungs were screaming for air. They had never swam for this long before, and it felt wrong. An animal that had instincts could not simply ignore them, but the slugcat had in order to try and escape from them altogether.
"But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not." The Survivor's ears twitch as they listen, leaning their head closer to the Iterator. She gently and slowly raises a hand, and begins to slowly pet the damp white fluff. They purr, the noise soft, a touch so similar to that of their family. They miss them dearly, but that desire is pushed away as more speech pushes into their mind. The Mark of Communication flickered and gleamed as it always does when they sit still, but it also performed the odd glow whenever they are listening to someone speak.
Mostly, such was referred to hearing to the Iterator's speak. One was the reason for the Mark being given to them in the first place, and most of the other creatures never spoke to the Survivor. Or, perhaps, they too lacked the Mark of Communication, and cared not about things greater than struggling in the cycles between the downpours of rain."This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though; you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating."
The Survivor's head breaks through the fluid of void. There is a bright white light beaming down on them, and black fluid is shed from their pearly white coat once the light reaches them. Paddling furiously, coughing, eyes shut tight. Shore, any shore, they seek. Swimming for too long through the shorelines had always exhausted them, but it had been a task they had self imposed upon themselves. To visit someone unable to move, to try and bring things from the far reaches of the world that they could travel to ease her grief. If it worked, they knew not.
Bumping into metal was briefly unexpected. They are used to metal, to rubbish. Small paws grip and heave their form from the ocean. Breathing heavily as chilly air fills their lungs. Black eyes open and gaze at the odd structure that loomed up above them. Underground, but the world was no longer tinged with golden void. Now it was dark, deep, and far colder. It stings their lungs to breathe, and they cough up some of the black goop they had inhaled. Reminded them of the odd creatures in the garbage wastes; but that was a sickly brown, and not a color so dark it seemed to be absent of any color at all.
If this was what life was like past the cycles of life and death and rebirth it was... lackluster. Were they to be alone? Were they the only one to have ascended in this way? Confusion flickers in their mind as their form begins to crawl along. Some investigation would need to be done, a solution found. The way that they had been instructed to dive down into the deep earth did not explain that they would be alone. It did not explain how their emergence of the void fluid led to something that felt similar yet was clearly different.
The Survivor worried that this was not an intended part of their ascension. They had seen echoes of those who had failed their ascensions, their transcendence above the cycles rendering them as stuck and unable to move on. Entangled in their worldly desires, and the worry settles further into chest.
At least, they think it is worry. They cough up more black gunk, and continue to crawl away from the ocean. Breathing slow, easing now that they no longer were experiencing a drowning sensation. Slick tail twitched as they came to rest, laying their head against cool metal; or stone. It had been long since they had felt pure stone, but it is a welcome sensation. Briefly resting, for they knew better than to allow their guard to be lowered. A few minutes was all they would need, before they would seek out the answers that battered their head like batflies.
While they had swam, their stomach had been emptied. Eating would be a priority; batflies would certainly fill them with ease if they found any. None had been seen since they had descended into the depths. Food of any kind seemed to have been cleansed from that environment. The Survivor kept their groan of frustration internal as they thought about the sheer amount of wall leaps they would have to do in order to climb all the way back up. If this was even the same place; if they had not somehow swam to the other side of the world, somehow.
The Mark of Communication glowed as they still. Breathing slowed, the slugcat's form relaxing after a lengthy swim. Faint whispering in the air is ignored in favor of rest, and the Survivor allows their eyes to slip shut.