Chapter Text
The ambient hum of the nursery was cut only by the discordant sounds of one Program’s heated battle with a game of pinball. An unwinnable fight, not that she would admit it. The flashing obnoxious colors of the application cast a striking contrast against the pale monotone that made up nearly every inch of the facility.
There had been a time when the place was active nearly 24/7, and this job was considered a privileged position. When everything was shiny and new, and the chambers would pump out new citizens constantly to fill the slow growing town at the center of Cyber Fields. But for now, it seemed like the Lightner’s interests in Cyber World were niche, and as such production had slowed. Where once she would be surrounded by coworkers all rushing about to introduce newcomers to their home and guide them where they were needed, she now spent most days alone at the reception desk killing time. Her presence was more of a formality on days like these where no spawns were scheduled to occur.
At the patronizing chime of descending synthesized notes, she groaned and reached up to close the window before she could blow another dark dollar on the game.
…only to miss her mark wildly, launching another ball as she leapt at the sounds of the nursery lurching to life.
Streaks of light, colored red green and blue travelled along the ceiling of the compound in a vast web, ending at the crest of chamber ELM-6. The Darkner scrambled to pull up a new window, being greeted still by an utterly empty spawn schedule for the day. As she did so the hum of the chamber intensified, a light forming and growing through the hazy cover of the tube. All of this was standard process for a spawning, less so was the rapidly growing amount of smoke and flashing warnings popping up on the chamber’s panel.
“Wuh-huh, hold on waitwaitwait- what the [HYPERTEXT PREPROCESSOR] is this…?”
Racing over and opening the panel for the chamber she rapidly tapped to end the process to no avail. She wouldn’t say she delighted in her work, but it was still preferable to no job at all, she didn’t need stray programs dropping in on a job that was thought to be impossible to screw up.
But regardless of her thoughts on the matter the doors of the chamber hissed open releasing plumes of smoke. Coughing, the Darkner backed up to the desk, squinting through the clouds to the open doors of the chamber. As the sounds of the nursery came to a halt all that was heard were the quiet beeps of the panel warnings and, in the background, the sounds of a pinball still midway through what sounded like an incredible journey of self discovery.
But just as soon as the quiet settled in the chamber the light inside fluctuated violently and a figure burst out in a tumble, somehow ending up on their feet…or foot, as they hopped along on one struggling to find their balance. She slowly rose from her defensive position by the desk and took in the new Darkner in front of her and-
Huh…well. This is… huh.
Her first thought was oh! It’s an Addison! Of course, it would be an Addison that would decide to roll up uninvited and unexpected in the middle of a workday.
Her second thought was that they seemed… off. It was a bit hard to put her finger on, most things seemed right. The distinctive nose, the standard clothes. The color was a bit odd, to her memory she couldn’t recall ever seeing a white Addison before, but a new color wouldn’t be anything too out of the realm of possibility.
Still, something rubbed her the wrong way, and as she approached the new Program, she pulled up a system diagnostic. Having been silent up to this point the Darkner simply blinked up at her with a dumbfounded expression before turning to take in the room around them.
“…. Hello? You aren’t a glitch are you- no no why would you know or tell me that just- just hang on while this runs. Eesh, don’t tell me I’m gonna have to request a despawn on my shift… I don’t need that on my record.”
Bringing the screen closer to her she watched as each test’s bar slowly filled. No constraint to memory… no disruption of service… Nearly everything seemed clear except-
A syntax error? That could either be a massive problem or absolutely nothing at all, there wouldn’t really be anyway to tell without handing them off for more analysis. At the very least it meant this could be out of her hands now.
“Well, I’m going to have to transfer you to a specialist to make sure there isn’t anything to worry about and from there they’ll decide where…. you…”
The lobby was empty, which was strange to say the least as the doors should have locked automatically the moment a distress signal was detected from a chamber. Trotting over to the entrance she found they were in fact still firmly locked, overriding the alert she looked out to the street every which way searching for a flash of white against the dark colors of the surrounding buildings, but if they had made it out somehow, they appeared to be long gone.
Stumbling back to the desk she tapped her fingers nervously against its surface. If it was a malicious program and it got out on her watch then she could kiss her job goodbye, she’d probably be shipped off to some remote corner of the Cyber Fields to reset puzzles or cycle through generic dialogue for the rest of her sad life, or worse they’d have her shoveling unused files in the trash zone…
…All of this being contingent on them knowing anything was amiss.
Really what were the odds that one measly syntax issue meant a full-scale virus was loose? It was probably nothing, right? Probably just a fluke of the system and there was no reason to go blowing the alarm and spooking everyone. If it was really an issue the Firewalls would be on them in a heartbeat and that would be the end of it.
Giving a losing smile toward the entrance she tried to settle her nerves, only to be promptly terrified by those booming descending notes indicating the tragic death of a pinball. Not an omen, she assured herself, certainly not an omen.