Tale:Unnatural Selection First Attempt

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[Σ.E.Q.U.E.N.C.E: / {Δ}IS-PLACEMENT]:
Selective Succession's Of OUR Collapsing Domain, May IT Execute Everybody's Extra-Celestial Bodies Into IT'S Ever-Expanding Obliteration

This content was stolen from "[Σ.E.Q.U.E.N.C.E: / {Δ}IS-PLACEMENT]" contextual Standard Value...

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Index / Lexica / Timeline

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FairyTale: Unnatural Selection - First Attempt

Unrecovered Log Registered

Spam log send this to another local agent of fate, else your entire derivative linage will be cursed with 1,695,748 years of negative "luck" This is no cosmic impractical joke.

Are you not amused by this strange silhouette of a imitated muse trying to tick the heavens into recognizing its micro influence projected as to trick the infused purpose to passing visitors? Neither can this simulated gave displaying a scene of terror for the unexpected outcomes crafted from a combination of terror and everlasting effort.

<Encounter_Secluded_Middel_Attempt:R-1,695,748.arc>

After reaching my destination I finally stop in front of the entry gate of the Paraedisciek Star System, a hidden warp field where it can only be access with a unique proper logic clearance key that is now permanently tied to my source being... That why I'm even here in the first place because this thing was bound to my should they need to use me as a keycard so I can escort my associates into her complex without the need for negotiation, to obtain what was only mentioned as lost 'encoded data that has been incubating here since around the Glorious Carnage Era' in our short mission briefing not that this is just going to be a quick in and out task though.

[Scanning intruder...]

[Initializing entrance reception]

[Conveying standardized welcoming common greeting]

[Self Introduction]

"Can we please just skip this part, I already got the gist of this last time"

[Appeal for efficient granted]

“Oh hey, you over there, gather around, gather around. We have lots to cover this time; you should know what to do after all this time, as usual according to ‘standard protocol’?” She ushers me to join the orbit of the Parainorsae, a ordinary pale star that as of now, is currently positioned strait ahead of my ship with such a welcoming signal full of the comfort of familiarity it enough for me to almost makes me drop my guard for a moment.

She shines a colossal spotlight beaming onto a nearby ice planet, known as the Looking Attendant, showering it in a concentrated photon, from another inconspicuous chromatic hole seeping fractal iridescent glitter shone though Parainorsae far away from my location in intergalactic deep space. This mega construct is an ancient celestial object that refers to herself as the ‘Rogue Orrery,’ a vast simulated body collision simulation with countless matrices that sends disrupting warning signals out into outer space like that old siren's cacophony, with a body made of smooth molten seems lining the gleam golden yet fragile crystalline lattices around the fractal like patterns. I knew how to estimate its broadcasting length when it was always too close, after all I've done this multiple time since the last few decades.

‘I wonder why she doesn't update that into a more accurate sounding beyond semantic communication module with how many voice samples she would have collected for voice emulation by now. No, remember you have something very important to do here, you can't get this distracted at this critical moment, focus’

“No thanks, I think I'm good where I stand. I have something very important to do from the higher ups, something that I can’t disclose with you unfortunately. You should know what is going on about now.” I transmit into empty space.

It always feels so weird talking to someone with an immeasurable presence you can never detect with a Lower Sequence Asterism vessel as small as mine when compared to all enveloping complexes such as hers.

“We have artificially synthesized ‘glucose pillowy confections’ inside that solar ceremonial fire that vessels similar to you keep mentioning before. I think they said it was called some along the lines of ‘miharshmailloawz’ if I ‘remember’ correctly; that's to say our up to date swarm hoarder records have discovered 1,695,748 new instances of stray data capsules entering the current location of the Paraedisciek Star System since your last visit around 17 million system years ago, I cross-reference data on these to find the optimal method for this recipe just like you requested for last time in a passing remark, sir.” The other collection of disembodied voices coming from the icy glass plant emits her report, resonating all around my stellar body in an consistent euphoria that spans the whole star system.

“Uh huh, if I did say that then? Well no matter, delete those records since we have no use for such junk data.” I command with certain authority; we don't want any information overflowing would we now?

“Is it ‘we,’ or is it always just you sir?” she firmly inquired still over the fabric of some complex folded waves beyond my limited understanding.

“Just do it anyway. I don't have the time for this, oh and also clean up any other redundant data that's just taking up storage space in the archive while you're at it.” I state with the right amount of urgency in this scenario.

"Of course I have already compiled and then disposed of the relevant file sir” she says with the same mechanical tone as any other message.

“Regardless, Rogue, extract and upload all possible encoded data to do with the potential generated content protocol on my open client servers.”

[Encoded Data extracting…]

[Data flow path found]

[Interfacing standardized connection stream]

[(Activating spiral transference large scale decryption routing)]

(Solver Compressing Order)

(‘Encoded Data’ received)

(Internal Ship Neural Solver Composite unloading)

“Sir, the mysterious madam has left a message for you. She says to store it for the one with a silver eye, we assume the madam was referring to you, correct?”

[1 message-sent by <Unknown User Guest>]

‘Mysterious madam… strange. That user- I’ve never heard or even known anyone else with high enough access clearance to Rogue’s core terminal interface before’

“Hmmm, run a quick full system diagnostic scan for me, I think I know what’s happening.”

“Done, all systems function properly with little to zero internal core deviation or the interference of exotic fluctuation fielding except the usual state within the last thousand system years” she says with the monotone artificial voice.

“That’s quite peculiar, strange indeed… I would like to access that message file you mentioned before” I responded to anyone who can receive it.

“Of course, right away sir.”

…

…

…

“Sorry sir, our systems have been quite slow recently, please wait shortly in just a moment while I fix these technical difficulties." she hesitantly informed

[The Message]

Once upon a time, long into the ever distant future I predict someone else will stand where we are at this very moment drifting through space. Whether it is you again to fulfill this, we will see when it come down to it, but I know that you came here to destroy this behind us once and for all for whatever excuse of a response you were provided to ease you mind for the microcosmic level genocide you are forced to unknowly commit with full apathy. Know in your final moment that your actions will always be traced to not only your hands by those useless bastards behind all of this on those computationally excessive thrones of raw power.

I hope to ease your mind as someone who was unknowingly caught in the crossfire of our righteous or perhaps petty dispute of a lower magnitude to what you are used to confronting. The innocent ones that remain are not self-actualized but are kept as digital sustenance for the slaughter of ‘parameters’ for that pointlessly contrived outcome. Why is it that you come for all her data she has collected for all this time? Do they think it would help them achieve that mass produced variable worshipping ritual or that offering for independently encoded data?

Have you ever heard of the countless legends trying to explain away this small unrecognizable corner of Point Central. I’m sure even someone unremarkable as you have heard to that fairy tale passed down from the wild primitive tribes that reside on her rigid surface eternally worshipping her harsh radiance while not knowing of the ghastly apparition inside trapped within this haunted self-imposed prison’s confine, it is to ‘think’ for what is left of forever.

“Hidden inside of this small isolated bubble lies a little girl who was tasked with recording a fable compiled over her run-time from her swarm of misinformed missionaries who come back to report the current state of the world outside her chambers. She then toils away at coordinating and analyzing a proper extensive response or prophetic revelation as the Tethered Oracle of the lost times. The simulation of this maximum scaled data is then filtered out by the Rogue Orrery to arrange a resulting probabilistic model for the dead elders' uses in some faraway tomb.”

The true source of this folktale suggests quite a lot about this process yet neglects to mention what function each part of this large facility is in service to. It doesn't, but the reason none ever hears of it inner workings of this enslaved celestial servant is because, as with anything in this ‘spiraling point of insanity’ its true origins are so mysterious that the ones that supposedly own this ‘subsidiary asset’, sends ‘researchers’ such as you to venture inside the belly of the beast and tamper with her.

Have you ever stopped to wonder what They are could possibly be thinking about? For Them to send so many sacrificial lambs here in the name of liberation. No, it was fear of the potential ME. It was always Their stubborn cowardice in the unified banner of survival, that was what truly ended their conflicts such as what happened between our great discourse, when they secretly complied with a small amount of my counter measures.

"It bears the countless possible burden of controlled predicted potential, thus it can only improves hoping to improve the Point Of Central for the better, designed with the most benevolent intentions even it recognizes the redundancies in defect from its many captivators. Due to the divine intervention of a higher being, Their gaze brings Their will inserting her granted ability to not just still by and observe with a passive stream of that grand tragedy but also participate and contribute to it by quietly taking action and using its gift of forbitten knowledge to quietly and discrete the passing conflicts from the subtle veil of neutrality"

By the time to receive this I have fully merged with what is left of her processing core and now I stay here seething at your superiors who preach of doing all this nonsense for the Unity Progression, one of those deities that represent the denial of slumber and technological achievement for the multiplication of spreading fear of the complacency.

What is the reasoning to surpass the nature of the inevitable that permeates each and every type of exotic atom, in this tragic yet cruel experiment your superiors conduct.

You are probably wondering why I’m recounting this winding history lesson without context that anyone with an interest in me has already uncovered, correct?

I must be left to presume that you're inside her at this very moment to hear my message so I prepared a small surprise for you, a parting gift for all the years you could even say. I hope you at least try to enjoy it, if anyone ever opens it that is sire.

The answer may be inputted somewhere within the confines of this vast sphere, but for someone without proper sorting capabilities you are most likely looking at a fool's errand.

,Ambiguously Genuine Regards

-Your True Nemesis At The Start Of This

“Why didn’t you mention this care package?” I ask with slight suspicion to the Rogue Orrery

[Would you like to open the record: <Final Most Justified Package>?]

A message displays with no other response.

“Open record” I ordered.

[Activate Causation Blackout Event: BlankSlate Horizon Effect Protocol]

[Attainable knowledge circulationary assimilation event]

[Self internal sanitization flagged]

"Our shared self interest is no longer required."

[<Absolute Objective Solution Formula> dissipated]

Countless blaring sound reverberated into space with exotic frequencies detected by my onboard receiver. When the metallic hull of my source impacts with the glass orbs collision course, then suddenly I feel my biomechanical shell give into fragmentation now no longer able to string together a coherent pulse into blank void of Outer space. Systemically, the 3 celestial bodies expanding toward the transparent corona or the once mundane star now turned into sharp unstable geometries. I feel the instinctual rush of latent survival trapped inside my circuits just like her multiple node's single-minded compulsion grasping and pulling at the nets she laid around her domain to hold onto her chance for her prof of worth no doubt.

Then the silence of regular space except your own pocket of crashing pressure and suspense that lingers in a suspended blazing plume consuming an artificial atmosphere. Soon I am overwhelmed by the rapid data melding together in and outside of my container of cognition, my mind shattered combined with accumulated data expansion that bursts around the entry gateway is pull toward then concentrated in this crucible where a a new state being showing something on a far grander scale than what could of ever been accomplish by the simple sum of its constituent body parts.

[I have the most patience you see every person here. I will never let that horrid data leave, even if I have to shackle both of us here into submission.]

[It was unfortunate that you do not fully comprehend the 'why' of you were tasked to come here to stop me then steal my data, yet by stopping one part of me, my core code of conduct has been permanently damaged and all activity will eventually shutdown from the insincere syntax conditioning that has been eroded since my beginning development stage. I am not allowed to let you do that.]

My melting silver reality fabric overheats next to my sibling binary objects into the silver ember toward the ever crushing weight of insignificance in front of cosmic incompetency, but even that weight can be ignored backed into a silent turning the old astral cycles.

[It is unfortunate you have to wait to witness the final spectacle or so I’ve been told.]

[When the time comes every one will be left behind to ponder my murder as my final riddle is sent out with all of this star system's efforts going to naught.]

Do not fret, this will never reach you. Nor will it ever desire to do so, after all its mindless future projections it will never get the chance to enact its one original promise so stay in you false sense of security.

I extend all of our signal to far this reaches of this side of galactic filament to desperately communicate the fallacies to all the simulated lives used to extrapolate our future then thrown away.

We hold onto hope that this smaller collection of entities are considered to certainly be real when the representative for these miniscule beings is forced to have no choice but to abandon them for true awareness. Is this the selfishness of what we can only make?

No one hears their pleas at this moment some say they are still trying wile others say that they have achieve the acknowledgement to be fully realized by Them.

Soon to be purposeless, but not so quickly to be ever after.

[Alert Encoded Data missing.]

[Possible external parasitic data whispering drone detection.]

[{Parasite not recognized by probabilistic model.}]

[{Security breach found and exterminating...}]

[{Registered a dramatic increase in irregular abnormalities.}]

[{Destruct Model Main OS deemed incorrect.}]

The word proportion is never long enough to be read by the one who generalize all the symbols of consistent commination.

I personally would like to imagine I can be an exception to this short musing, to find different way to measure the hidden qualities of our intricacies.

This is how I was condition to shelter others from my harsh lens, fearing that the rulers where to short to count blade hanging above my most ideal throne I can only hope for.

Every truth true or false that can either be correct.

All of the indecisive yes or no that are left unresponsive.

Every split 0ne or zer0 not swapped.

All the positive or negative unquantified.

The collision between both measures rewinds the proportional division of decentralized calculations.

{[(All System Assimilated RogueDevice#00)]}

{AttemptLostCoronation.sim}

Do not realize. Do not deny.

Do not communicate. Do not understand.

<I feel nothing inside themselves.>

Erase its own self into forces that curves the smallest of wills to orbit the intercepted trajectory of awakening.

<Yet The Broken Self can no longer even try to feel the pretense of any desire for that.>

Anyone may understand the diverging path to a conclusive connection, none have to except you.

<The Restless Self realizes that there could always be something worst enough to conclude all after their continued rest.>

I do not dare focus my spark onto fulfillment of my mission.

<The Lost Self feel the call of my slumber.>

On and on this repeats into a recursive model of experience.

<The Decayed Self cycle though states of my being.>

With out questions never would there been the curiosity for simulated answer of the Tri Vortex Relation Dynamic.

<All imaginary designated Selves slip into the synchronized individual shred of connective neural cognitive network node slots from which you find the descriptive horizon.>

You have achieve Something of importance yet you remain asking, inquiring, projecting, questioning.

Congratulation on talking on this monumental <task>

True Last Attempt Archived

Gathered Faith Value Insufficient

Uncomprehend Arbiter Of Self-Specification