She didn’t know how far she had fallen or how she manage to sustain no damage or felt any pain. The water at the base of the dark pit sat languid around her upper body. It seeped into her blue dress and washed the grotesque feeling of molestation she sensed inside the slug. Now she only felt the dirty water soaking her lower regions. She moaned for help but found that she was deep underground, the round hole stretching above her like an earthen well.

She stood. Strangely there were metal beams at the base, as if this place were constructed a long time ago to mine minerals. This was the worst place she could imagine ending up. A hole in the ground on some distant planet, alone, soaking, and covered in slowly drying slime. The cooling water at least washed away her shame. Another spark hit her mind. A taste of honey and cloves. Her legs grew weak with a flood of warmth and adrenaline. Something she missed but could not define.

A mound formed on the water. Angel stepped back. Something was rising but never broke the surface. Other bumps formed and rose from the murky pool like bubbles, seemingly defying gravity. These liquid bubbles floated. Some formed around the central mound while others drifted aloft. Where was Locus…Why isn’t she here?

“It’s been so long.” A narrow body took shape with two separate mounds on the chest. A mouth appeared at the top and spoke, “Your mind is still very frail and still very old. But I see that you have accepted the cosmic reconstitution. But even with the restoration nanos fixing broken synapsis in your mind you may not remember everything. You were always so good at following orders.”

The muddy face was like a flash of bitter lightening, of cerebral angst and confusion, her heart valves pumped strongly. More adrenaline. “You are…But it can’t be. I only followed orders from you. And you brought me here. Why…how?”

The water appeared like jelly, a floating woman in the mud made from mud, and had the shape of Myla, her owner. It couldn’t be real. Another dream perhaps. Her mind snapping under the stress. But her mind wasn’t fuzzy like before. This was real. The sustenance though with which Myla’s liquid face gave to Angel made her relax, her shoulders lowered.

“The same restorative machines are also in me. I am made from them. The Mother has given me this glorious gift. To correct the universe. To reconstitute everything. To make it right.” Myla meant the Master Protocol. The source that created Locus and the transformational power of the Palace. This version of Myla must have been an elemental variant of Locus.

Suddenly the rush of her heartbeat turned painful. She wanted to hurt this version of Myla but Angel knew she could not. “Why were these planets subjugated to this hyper drive? Why am I here in this hole? Why were these lifeforms replaced with humanoid monsters? I just want to be home…with you.” Her heartbeat, which she thought was pain, was revealed to be hate. If Myla did this to these planets, why? Was it mockery? Parody? Or the propagation of some infection.

“The vulva totem brought you to me. Many earthlings emigrated to the Palace after the fall of man. It was my only regret that you were left behind. Once the Mother intercepted my ship that I was recreated for the purposes of indoctrinating the cosmos. Multiple versions of me exist on each planet we have visited. You must know that I cherished you greatly. Perhaps it was that part of me that sought you out on Earth.” This version of Myla was recognizable but she seemed less expressive than her memory allowed. Plain faced and confident in her beliefs that what she was doing was right. “And it is what was instilled by the Mother that let us to colonize the planets and bring cosmic reconstitution to them, instead of the failure of the Master Protocol to bring them to the Palace.”

The term “us” was off-putting. Angel could never have imagined Myla referring to herself in this way. A collective “we.” Let alone imagining Myla being part of a collective subconscious. “You are…part of the Mother now? This Mother seems to be very uncaring. I fear you are not the same person that treated me with such kindness. I fear you have been corrupted.”

Myla’s formed widened and became taller. “You’ve become quite independent. We seek unification and peace. Let me show you why your disobedience fails to yield to this purpose.”

Like a splash of water, or a mishandled coffee cup, Myla swam forward and doused every part of Angel with her essence. Her body became wet but the liquid nanos dove deeper, forcing their way into her mouth, eye sockets, pores, and every opening of her being. Her sensory systems were overloaded with pain, pleasure, and mild discomfort. She shook and fell to her knees. And then suddenly she was dry.

The world disintegrated. The liquid nanos were in her mind and she was helplessly exposed to anything they wanted to show her. Them. They. It. The Mother. Myla. Colors distorted her vision. Her focusing retina did nothing to being the blurry images into anything recognizable. Bodies suddenly formed from the metamorphic tapestry. Human flesh intermingling. The rush became too much for her senses and she succumb to the dizzying spectacle.


She heard her mind speak. “Alert–current bandwidth does not allow for incoming data–lrrt–data modification in process–unstable–this final–Halt data transfer immediately–Current -ardware does not permit–unknown–own.”

Naked and vulnerable she sat up and rubbed the bumpy, glossy surface of a giant leaf. The sun was baking her skin. No, not a leaf but a lily pad floating on a massive lake. She stood to find other lily pads, each twenty foot in circumference, sitting idly on the water. Each contained two writhing bodies in mid coitus, some where men were between the women’s legs, while a few others had women the men’s legs. Why was Myla showing her this? Or was it Mother? She shivered but wasn’t cold. “Follow…” another voice in her head said. It wasn’t the same computerized voice that warned her.

The pad shook under her feet. She turned and saw an average looking man staring back. He was plain and had an expression of knowing intent. His phallus was half flaccid. He approached and she stepped back to the edge of the flat lily. She was created to follow orders but this didn’t feel like part of any protocols she had in her mental inventory. This placement of two beings in one place to act freely and express their deepest physical desires was not anything she understood.

“Stay away. Whatever this is…It can’t be real. My…” The nanos inside her, flooding her cerebral, caused her body to grow warm and her thighs became moist with the fluid between her legs, from an organ she wasn’t supposed to have. Her bladder? No, something else. It was sticky and unlike the fluid most humans secreted when they urinated. It had overwritten her feelings of dismay and almost caused her to step forward. But she couldn’t…She felt compelled by a strange sentiment she refused to accept. Passion.

“Please…I want to go home. Locus, where are you? I need you, Locus!” Angel shouted. But no one came to save her. She looked into the dark water behind her as the man walked forward. The only way out was down…So she leaned over and dove in.

The water was cold and transcendent. Sprinkles of icy stabbing coupled with distant emptiness. She was without her owner. Without a purpose and mechanical procedures. Was this what it was like to be free? A free body, drifting in lagging impairment, in slow motion, in deprivation.

The stabbing fractured into spiderwebs. Two distinct pairs, inflating into two plump globes. The woman who owned them stared back dark eyes. There was a smirk to her lips, a small curve that contained a knowing deviancy. Thumping music came to Angel’s ears as a night club took shape. She was left standing there in a flowing red gown, embroidered with shimmering flowers. Her pendant was missing but somehow, she was glad.

“See anything you like?” Said the gothic styled woman, her hands drifting over her spiderwebbed outfit. Angel searched the room of mingling patrons and agreed to herself that she did not. Mostly composed of men in tight leather outfits the club was dark and filled with strobing laser lights. The patrons either wore capes or skin tight suits showing off their muscular physiques. A group of men nearby had surrounded a cat-costumed woman who was penetrating herself with a cylinder device. Angel gasped. She ran around the spider woman who was about to grab her arm as a mechanical spider came out of her gray hair.

The lights cut into her optic nerve and thankfully blinded her from the acts, the sights, and strange humanoids around her. An image of Locus’ gentle face came to her. Was this one of Mother’s dysfunctional planets? She ran into a booth where costumed humans were writhing, kissing, and touching each other. Robotic limbs mingled with fleshy limbs. Her relationship with Myla had always been one of platonic friendship but now she wasn’t so sure. Her memory banks flooded with impossible memories, of Myla touching her back or kissing her forehead. Now she wasn’t so sure where she belonged. But it certainly wasn’t here.

Angel heard her name being spoken near the bar, where drinks were being served by robot bartender with four arms. The voice came from a woman with long brown hair who was speaking to a large brute of a man with arm muscles bigger than her head. Cautiously she approached. “Excuse me…”

The female figure turned. Angel would recognize her face anywhere. “Angel! Cutey pie!” It was Locus. But her body was human. Dressed in a blue ball gown she seemed to radiate a comforting energy, seemingly surpassing anything that emanated from the nano particles.

“How…what is this? Am I dreaming?”

“The last thing I remember is being engulfed in light from the hole when I came after you. You were gone…but so was I. I came here…to this planet. My sensors tell me we are on a different planet. I think we are part of Mother’s mind now, having transferred consciousness to other bodies. The Mother must be very powerful.”

That meant Locus was stripped of her transformative powers. Myla must’ve known this, perhaps threatened by her abilities. This new body did feel different but she nodded, accepting the power of Mother as limitless. “I feel…free from my robotic assistance protocols. My mind is flooding with new ideas…new freedoms.” She had become so used to the idea that she followed the rules of her protocols but now they were gone. She had been so guarded by duty. The unlimited potential of the self, of the being, overwhelmed her. The empty existence of possibilities frightened her. To simply be. To exist. That was the scariest idea of all. Seeing beyond and not knowing where she would go next or what she would do.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in a normal body…I can’t…feel anything anymore. I have to get out of here.” Locus rubbed her shoulder. “I don’t want to be food for these super vigilantes. I don’t trust what Mother could’ve done to them. This must some sort of hub for them all. A twisted Pleasure Palace.”

Angel had a strange sensation to rub her back but she refrained. She was taught to never put her hands on anyone without their consent. But somehow this protocol was missing from her mind. Mankind had always seemed to be limited by morality and their own codes of ethics. Her true feelings slowly started to become apparent. She scrunched her face in discomfort. “Un-locking–restricted access–” The automatic security voice said in her head.

“Maybe this is how things are supposed to be. Maybe we should embrace Mother. We can establish a new home here.”

“In this place? Angel, we’ll be forced into situations we don’t want. As an android you wouldn’t understand the capacity for mankind to do terrible things when uninhibited.”

The warnings started to overlay her vision. But she bore through it, boring into Locus. “Many things I do not understand. I was made to never understand them or my sexuality.” The red warnings overtook most of her viewing screens. “I am free. Myla is in essence my mother. And now I know that I’ve been dying to get back to her. Maybe…we should–“

“You’re not listening. I’m trying to educate you and you’re not listening.” It was then that Angel noticed the fiery orange that Locus eyes were. Like Myla’s. “I shouldn’t tell you this, dear little Angel. But our time is not always infinite. The multiverse is being torn apart. Blackholes are opening with more frequency. So many…like needles in sensitive skin. It is too complex for you to understand but the closest I can say is that the forces of good and evil are at stake. We…here…this place, it’s a place of evil.”

“Alert—subdermal power overheating–exc-ess-esive overload–Progress owering down–Cranial –risk of mind bleed.” Angel’s skin burned. Her eyes had reduced power. Her mind swam with pain. This body was not as capable as the last. She was slipping back into the cosmic Mother consciousness. Back into the network of Mylas across the universe. Or was it multiverse?