MPC 73A Next Gen Technology [Complete]
Apr 20, 2020 12:33:27 GMT
Post by Desdemona on Apr 20, 2020 12:33:27 GMT
MPC Name: Next Gen Technology
MPC Number: 73A
Reward Requested: 15 Posts
Word Count: 1040
MPC Number: 73A
Reward Requested: 15 Posts
Word Count: 1040
Not forgotten, but simply ignored.
That was the impression the tsukaimon got from this miserable excuse of a society. Terminus City above only served to remind those below it that they were entombed alive within a rotting coffin, and that worms and parasites devoured them a little more everyday as they struggled to cling to a shred of life. Truly, Old Terminus was a very ignorant name for this place. Something the above ground citizens could say in misguided reverence, and pat themselves on the back for thinking they were being respectful. That naivete was almost as nauseating as some of the smells soaked into the raw data of the undercity.
Terminus. This place, for all its current degeneracy, it would always be known as Terminus to Desdemona. Nothing else seemed right. Perhaps one day it would regain a sliver of its former identity, even. In the end, the tsukaimon had to wonder if yet another Terminus would be built on the corpse of its predecessor. The irony would most likely be lost on most people, she decided.
“Lost, just like the knowledge here,” mused the tsukaimon quietly to herself as she flew through the ventilation shaft following behind a beckoning missimon. It was hard to tell just how far underground they were now. She knew that she would be spending at least several hours in the undercity, but this was quickly turning into an all day affair now that she had a guide of sorts. The missimon didn’t seem to understand her completely, but it understood that Des was down here for a reason and trying to go deeper. Without any other leads the tsukaimon had chosen to simply follow after the other digimon to see where it might lead her. Some of the pathways it flew through were a little cramped even for Des, but the missimon seemed confident in its navigating.
Soon enough more missimons joined the first as they went along, spelunking deeper into the research facility at the heart of the real Terminus. With how slow they all flew and how well they could turn Des couldn’t help but wonder just how long they had all been down here. Maybe from the start? An exciting thought, but she held her anticipation in check even as they entered a hallway where the lights did more than flicker dimly. The walls were covered in metal panels that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving way sometimes to faded glass windows exposing large cable bundles and other various circuitry built into the walls.
Chrome sliding doors appeared every now and then on either side of the corridor, all in various states of disrepair and neglect. Some stuck open, jammed by rust or debris. In the shadows of one room Desdemona could have sworn she saw someone looking back at her as she passed by. The swarm of missimon didn’t seem to care any though, so she cautiously continued to follow them. The robotic digimon led her to a large metal door that turned the hall into a dead end. They flew in random circles before it, like locusts waiting to feed. Red emergency lights on the ceiling angled towards the door illuminated the large stenciled writing on it:
LAB - 04
EDEN’S DAEMONS
PROJECT STATUS: ACTIVE
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
‘Well that sounds promising,’ thought Des as she hovered in the air to further study the door. She spotted a terminal recessed into the wall to the right of the door. She flew over to it to blow the dust off from its controls and screen. To her surprise the device was still powered and blinked to life after smacking a few keys. Even the computer seemed to sense the facility’s state of disrepair as several warnings flashed across the screen which she dismissed. While not a hacker by any stretch of the imagination Des was able to navigate the simplistic menu to find the door unlock command. Machinery whirred to life within the walls as the hallway shook with the effort. Slowly, the door began to rise letting bright white light seep out from beneath it.
The missimon scrambled for the opening, wedging themselves into the crack until the door rose high enough for them to pass freely. Desdemona tilted her head to the side in curiosity as they disappeared from her view. The persistent sound of their thrusters had been a constant droning noise, and one that she had to block out on the way here. However, as more and more of the in training mons entered the chamber their collective hum became softer. Not because of the door, no. It was as if the individual sounds were being cut off completely. Des waited until the door was halfway open before flying into the chamber herself.
By that time she was alone, and the sounds of the missimon had disappeared along with the robotic digimon. Lab equipment she didn’t recognize filled the room, and cables snaked across the floor haphazardly under the white lighting. Electronics were still humming away, with many of the unknown systems hooking up to a giant screen in the middle of the room. The screen was active, and showed a video feed of a city from a street level view. Curiously, several missimon flew around the otherwise empty streets. Des flew up to the screen and reached out a hand to wipe at its surface. She startled as her hand went through the screen; she didn’t break it, but rather entered its feed.
Again she watched as the missimon played in the streets as she pulled her hand back. Minutes passed by before she set out to learn more about the portal from the terminals and papers scattered in the lab. She had always heard tales about the undercity hiding ancient technology. One of the stories was the ability to produce new worlds. She figured that’s what the project’s name was referencing, but could hardly believe it. Eden’s Daemons. There were notes regarding the project’s purpose, and the more she read the more her mind wound itself up like a spring in expectation.
This program. Would it be possible to have it remake the current digital world? She had to find out.
That was the impression the tsukaimon got from this miserable excuse of a society. Terminus City above only served to remind those below it that they were entombed alive within a rotting coffin, and that worms and parasites devoured them a little more everyday as they struggled to cling to a shred of life. Truly, Old Terminus was a very ignorant name for this place. Something the above ground citizens could say in misguided reverence, and pat themselves on the back for thinking they were being respectful. That naivete was almost as nauseating as some of the smells soaked into the raw data of the undercity.
Terminus. This place, for all its current degeneracy, it would always be known as Terminus to Desdemona. Nothing else seemed right. Perhaps one day it would regain a sliver of its former identity, even. In the end, the tsukaimon had to wonder if yet another Terminus would be built on the corpse of its predecessor. The irony would most likely be lost on most people, she decided.
“Lost, just like the knowledge here,” mused the tsukaimon quietly to herself as she flew through the ventilation shaft following behind a beckoning missimon. It was hard to tell just how far underground they were now. She knew that she would be spending at least several hours in the undercity, but this was quickly turning into an all day affair now that she had a guide of sorts. The missimon didn’t seem to understand her completely, but it understood that Des was down here for a reason and trying to go deeper. Without any other leads the tsukaimon had chosen to simply follow after the other digimon to see where it might lead her. Some of the pathways it flew through were a little cramped even for Des, but the missimon seemed confident in its navigating.
Soon enough more missimons joined the first as they went along, spelunking deeper into the research facility at the heart of the real Terminus. With how slow they all flew and how well they could turn Des couldn’t help but wonder just how long they had all been down here. Maybe from the start? An exciting thought, but she held her anticipation in check even as they entered a hallway where the lights did more than flicker dimly. The walls were covered in metal panels that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving way sometimes to faded glass windows exposing large cable bundles and other various circuitry built into the walls.
Chrome sliding doors appeared every now and then on either side of the corridor, all in various states of disrepair and neglect. Some stuck open, jammed by rust or debris. In the shadows of one room Desdemona could have sworn she saw someone looking back at her as she passed by. The swarm of missimon didn’t seem to care any though, so she cautiously continued to follow them. The robotic digimon led her to a large metal door that turned the hall into a dead end. They flew in random circles before it, like locusts waiting to feed. Red emergency lights on the ceiling angled towards the door illuminated the large stenciled writing on it:
LAB - 04
EDEN’S DAEMONS
PROJECT STATUS: ACTIVE
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
‘Well that sounds promising,’ thought Des as she hovered in the air to further study the door. She spotted a terminal recessed into the wall to the right of the door. She flew over to it to blow the dust off from its controls and screen. To her surprise the device was still powered and blinked to life after smacking a few keys. Even the computer seemed to sense the facility’s state of disrepair as several warnings flashed across the screen which she dismissed. While not a hacker by any stretch of the imagination Des was able to navigate the simplistic menu to find the door unlock command. Machinery whirred to life within the walls as the hallway shook with the effort. Slowly, the door began to rise letting bright white light seep out from beneath it.
The missimon scrambled for the opening, wedging themselves into the crack until the door rose high enough for them to pass freely. Desdemona tilted her head to the side in curiosity as they disappeared from her view. The persistent sound of their thrusters had been a constant droning noise, and one that she had to block out on the way here. However, as more and more of the in training mons entered the chamber their collective hum became softer. Not because of the door, no. It was as if the individual sounds were being cut off completely. Des waited until the door was halfway open before flying into the chamber herself.
By that time she was alone, and the sounds of the missimon had disappeared along with the robotic digimon. Lab equipment she didn’t recognize filled the room, and cables snaked across the floor haphazardly under the white lighting. Electronics were still humming away, with many of the unknown systems hooking up to a giant screen in the middle of the room. The screen was active, and showed a video feed of a city from a street level view. Curiously, several missimon flew around the otherwise empty streets. Des flew up to the screen and reached out a hand to wipe at its surface. She startled as her hand went through the screen; she didn’t break it, but rather entered its feed.
Again she watched as the missimon played in the streets as she pulled her hand back. Minutes passed by before she set out to learn more about the portal from the terminals and papers scattered in the lab. She had always heard tales about the undercity hiding ancient technology. One of the stories was the ability to produce new worlds. She figured that’s what the project’s name was referencing, but could hardly believe it. Eden’s Daemons. There were notes regarding the project’s purpose, and the more she read the more her mind wound itself up like a spring in expectation.
This program. Would it be possible to have it remake the current digital world? She had to find out.