Illustration by Joi Rudin.
I'm looking for something. I feel it pulsating somewhere in the Grid. A sequence of zeros and ones, individually meaningless, that come together and become something much more than the sum of its parts. I'm not sure I understand what I'm looking for, only that I'll recognize it once I find it. Otherwise, why would the Syrinx task me with looking for it? In their infinite wisdom, the Syrinx have considered this assignment, with all its difficulties, and have deemed me worthy of undertaking it. Therefore, I cannot fail. I've been chosen by those who know more and can see beyond. Completing these quests the Syrinx impose on us is rarely easy and never free. I've seen others come back having completed their task but having lost so much: an eye, an arm, their sanity. Such is the price of pleasing the Syrinx; they seem to like these offerings, these penances. A price worth paying. I trust their decision to give me this task. They must have seen me succeed, even if it has yet to happen. I'll see this to the end and sacrifice whatever is needed to reach my objective.
I concentrate. I let the Grid overflow my brain with electric impulses and ride it like a wave. The something I'm looking for is out there, beckoning me imperceptively. I follow my instincts and reach out my hand into a pocket of cyberspace. There, something feels hot and vibrating. I close my hand around it, feeling its sharp and glitching edges. I wonder if I'm also closing my hand out there in the physical world; if my brethren guarding my body are watching my fingers curl. Are they able to tell I'm completing my task? Can they see me smile, or is my face too covered by the wires and plugs that connect my neural implant to the Grid? The image lingers with me for an instant as the glitching thing expands, covering my hand, arm, and digital body. Everything turns dark, and I feel my mind still awake, unable to order my material body to unplug the neural implant to return me to the meatspace. I drift along the digital void, along the vastness of its empty space, and it feels like sleep paralysis: I'm conscious, but whatever orders my brain sends are lost before they reach their destination. I wonder if the Syrinx saw this too when they chose me for this task, and then I understand, clearly for the first time, what is being sacrificed.
I concentrate. I let the Grid overflow my brain with electric impulses and ride it like a wave. The something I'm looking for is out there, beckoning me imperceptively. I follow my instincts and reach out my hand into a pocket of cyberspace. There, something feels hot and vibrating. I close my hand around it, feeling its sharp and glitching edges. I wonder if I'm also closing my hand out there in the physical world; if my brethren guarding my body are watching my fingers curl. Are they able to tell I'm completing my task? Can they see me smile, or is my face too covered by the wires and plugs that connect my neural implant to the Grid? The image lingers with me for an instant as the glitching thing expands, covering my hand, arm, and digital body. Everything turns dark, and I feel my mind still awake, unable to order my material body to unplug the neural implant to return me to the meatspace. I drift along the digital void, along the vastness of its empty space, and it feels like sleep paralysis: I'm conscious, but whatever orders my brain sends are lost before they reach their destination. I wonder if the Syrinx saw this too when they chose me for this task, and then I understand, clearly for the first time, what is being sacrificed.
Written by Espeche, original idea by Espeche.