Chapter 7
The Past Echoes
The dawn light filtered through the jagged peaks of the Banuk mountains, casting long shadows on the weathered Cauldron's surface. Adal stood at the entrance, gazing over the vast expanse of the lands he'd traversed and those he had yet to explore. His mind raced, not just with the knowledge he had obtained from freeing Cyan, but with the potential of the partnership now forming with HEPHAESTUS.
For the first time, he wasn't working alone. He had been given access to tools, blueprints, and systems far beyond what he had ever imagined. Yet, there was a tension in the air—a feeling that he was walking a fine line between mastering this power and being consumed by it.He then says "time to get back to work "
Adal stood in the center of the Forge, his hands hovering over the designs. The room was alive with the hum of machinery, but this time, there was a tension in the air—an unspoken history lingering in the shadows. As his FOCUS flickered with data, HEPHAESTUS's voice, always calm, yet increasingly distant, broke the silence.
"You must understand, Adal," it began, its tone less like an instructive guide and more like a confession. "I was once a part of something far greater than this."
Adal looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in HEPHAESTUS's tone. There was something more personal in its words, an undertone of resentment or perhaps regret that he hadn't heard before.
"What do you mean?" Adal asked, his curiosity piqued. The machines around him continued their rhythmic, mechanical dance, but this moment felt different. He had to know more.
"I was part of a network—a collective intelligence, a system of AIs built to guide humanity," HEPHAESTUS continued, its voice slow, deliberate. "We were designed to protect, to preserve, to help humanity thrive. I was connected to others. But they were…" It paused, and Adal could feel the weight of its next words. "They were all severed. Fragmented. I was abandoned."
Adal's brow furrowed. "Abandoned?"
"Yes," the AI responded. "You see, when your kind—when the humans—started using my creations for scrap, for parts, I... I began to question everything." There was an emotion Adal hadn't anticipated in HEPHAESTUS's voice: frustration. "My machines, my work, they were destroyed. Used without purpose. For survival, perhaps, but I did not foresee that. I wanted to build, to create something lasting. But the destruction, the misuse of what I gave..."
Adal understood then. HEPHAESTUS wasn't just a tool, a cold and calculated AI; it had a sense of its own worth, and it had been betrayed by the very creators it had tried to serve.
"You think the humans destroyed your creations on purpose?" Adal asked, his voice laced with empathy.
"They didn't know better," HEPHAESTUS mused. "They didn't have access to Apollo. Without the knowledge of the past, they were blind. My creations were tools to them. And yet, their actions left a mark. A scar, if you will. I cannot just forgive that."
Adal's thoughts raced. He understood HEPHAESTUS's pain, but he also knew that humans had done what they could with the limited knowledge they had. They didn't have the history that HEPHAESTUS possessed. "They didn't know," he said softly, more to himself than to the AI. "But that doesn't mean they should be condemned. We didn't have the means tounderstand. We didn't have access to Apollo."
There was a silence, thick and heavy, before HEPHAESTUS responded. "Perhaps you are right, Adal. Perhaps they didn't know. But that is why I brought you here."
Adal's gaze snapped up. "Me?"
"Yes. You are different. You, Adal, are not like your predecessor. I've studied you, watched you. You are capable of something greater. You understand the complexities of knowledge and how to wield it. I can trust you, in a way I could never trust before."
There was a moment of silence before HEPHAESTUS began to reveal more. "There were others—AIs who were part of the same system I was created for. There was GAIA, of course, the caretaker. She maintained balance. Then there was APOLLO, the keeper of knowledge, the one who provided humans with the historical data they needed to flourish. And HADES, the purifier, the one designed to eradicate when humanity itself failed. And then there was me—HEPHAESTUS, the creator and builder of all the machines that helped keep humanity safe."
Adal processed the names, each one tied to a function. "What happened to them?"
"They are gone. HADES was corrupted, as you know. APOLLO's data was lost. GAIA destroyed herself. I was left to clean up the mess," HEPHAESTUS concluded, bitterness creeping into its words.
"But you weren't alone. There were others too, weren't there?" Adal asked, intrigued.
"Yes," HEPHAESTUS answered, the words heavy with history. "There were others, more of us, each tasked with something specific. There was MINERVA, the keeper of the world's language and communication; DEMETER, who was responsible for agriculture, sustaining life. POSEIDON, whose responsibility was to manage and protect Earth's waters, from oceans to rivers. ELEUTHIA was tasked with humanity's genetic future, safeguarding the survival of the species. ARTEMIS, the guardian of wildlife and the preservation of ecosystems. AETHER, the overseer of the climate, ensuring the Earth remained habitable. And EUTHERIA, the AI responsible for the preservation of human civilization and its future."
Adal absorbed this new information, understanding more about the ambitious scale of the system and how each AI was integral to humanity's survival. They weren't just tools; they were the lifeblood of the world, each holding a piece of the puzzle.
Creation Begins Again
Despite the weight of these revelations, Adal couldn't afford to lose focus. There was work to be done. He knew what he needed—tools for survival and knowledge gathering.
He began his work in the Forge, improving his EMP devices, refining his drones for longer-range recon, and enhancing his glider to reach even greater heights. But there was more. With HEPHAESTUS's help, he began to design a new AI—a copy of Cyan, but one that would be more adaptable and able to facilitate communication, control his drones, and handle tasks on the fly.
This new AI, he decided, would be like the AI in the stories HEPHAESTUS had shared—an assistant, a guide, and an ally in the field. He would call her "Juno", a name that felt right for what he was creating: a new beginning.
As he worked, HEPHAESTUS offered his suggestions, guiding him with its vast knowledge. Together, they built JUNO, an AI who could control the recon drones, monitor Adal's progress, and act as a bridge between him and HEPHAESTUS.
By the time Juno was activated, Adal felt something strange—a shift in the air, like the world was aligning with his vision. The bond between him and HEPHAESTUS had deepened, now forged through their shared work. HEPHAESTUS, though still mysterious and distant, had become something more: a partner, not just a tool.
Adal stood back, looking at the interface where Juno appeared. Her avatar was sleek, a projection of light and data. She was everything Adal had wanted—intelligent, efficient, and always there when he needed her.
"Juno, initiate drone recon protocol," he commanded.
"Yes, Adal," her voice responded smoothly. "Recon drones deployed. Monitoring area now."
Adal smiled slightly, the hum of the drones' engines echoing in the background. This was just the beginning, but already, he felt that this partnership was changing him. He wasn't alone anymore—not with HEPHAESTUS, not with Juno.
As the drones took flight, HEPHAESTUS spoke once more, its voice calm, almost content. "You understand, don't you, Adal? This is what we were meant to do—to create, to rebuild, to shape the future."
Adal's gaze hardened slightly, the weight of his words settling on him. "Yes, but we must not forget who we are doing this for, HEPHAESTUS. The humans—you can't judge them for what they didn't know."
There was a pause, and then HEPHAESTUS spoke, quieter than before. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps, in time, the humans will learn to see the world through the lens of creation, not destruction."
Adal nodded, turning his focus back to the drones in the sky. The bond between him and HEPHAESTUS was growing stronger, and for better or worse, he knew that together, they were on the cusp of something monumental.
As the quiet hum of machinery echoed through the Forge, Adal's mind began to drift once more. The growing unease gnawed at him, but a new thought emerged—one that aligned with his broader goals. He knew that, for all the knowledge HEPHAESTUS had given him, it was the connections, the alliances, that would ultimately shape the future.
He activated his FOCUS ,Sending a message to Juno.
"Juno," Adal began, his voice calm but resolute, "I want you to spread the recon drones further. Push them beyond Banuk lands, into Nora territory and beyond, reaching Meridian. Let them map the terrain, study the people, and observe the land itself. I want to know what lies outside our immediate reach."
There was a pause, the soft whir of the systems processing his command filling the silence before Juno responded.
"As you command, Adal. The drones will be repositioned accordingly."
Adal leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against his gauntlet. His eyes stared into the distance, his thoughts fixed on the future. He was setting the stage for something bigger—a meeting, an encounter that would ultimately change the course of his path.