11-16-2017, 12:02 AM
It walked until the location of the sun had shifted. A deep red spread over the skyline, and the Borg’s field of vision shrank considerably as the light ebbed. There was no telling how long it would be before the drone would be unable to navigate the increasingly dense forest.
Despite that… limitation, the Borg had noticed a variety of oddities along its lurching march through the green terrain. It had anticipated its biological tissues to ‘resurface’ given the failure of all but its most rudimentary Borg implants. Additionally, the Borg had expected pigmentation shifts and even follicle growth, and both of those developments had already started in earnest. However, there were other things occurring on what had to be the subcellular level that the Borg could not understand. A glance at its stump of a left hand revealed what appeared to be the generation of fresh tissues at the site where the limb had been amputated during the assimilation process.
The drone knew that Species 5618 had no regenerative properties, yet it was clear to the Borg that fresh tissues were being created.
“Too many variables.”
The Borg scowled as it lifted a hand up to its face. The deformed tissues and empty eye socket weren’t as distinct as they had been a few hours prior. Within a few additional hours, it would be had for anyone to tell that the drone had once worn metallic implants over half of its visage. Such an appearance would make it easier for it to go undisturbed as it regained its strength, but what would be the unintended cost of such course of action? Was there a repressed human psyche waiting to surface beneath decades of Borg assimilation?
Before the Borg could get lost in that train of thought, a voice broke what had been nearly an entire afternoon of silence.
“What brings you to these parts, Traveler?”
The Borg turned to confront the other figure and saw that it was staring at something that look nearly human. Despite similar posture and frame, its features were too slender, and it had pointed ears.
Vulcan?
No. Species 3259 had similar pigmentation to humans. Despite having Vulcan traits, the female who stood ten paces from the Borg had almost purple skin.
“Can you speak?” She asked as her features tightened. The Borg was unable to tell if that was supposed to be concern or distrust on her countenance. “Are you injured?”
Converse. Gather intelligence. Solve variables.
“No,” the Borg spoke, but even the monosyllabic word slurred its way through desiccated lips. “We…” The drone shook its head. Blend. “I have not been here long. Cannot. Do not know where I am. This world is new. White. Now green.”
The female’s expression softened as she lifted one of her oversized eyebrows. “You arrived via the Fountain of Infinity?”
“That is the name for the white?”
She nodded here head. “The Nexus. That’s where he drops all primes.”
“Define ‘he’.”
“Omni. He is the one who created this place. The one who brought you here.”
This place.
“What world are we on?” The Borg inquired.
The woman shook her head. “World? This is the Omniverse.”
Alternate timestream? Reality? Parallel universe? Regardless of the new parameters, the mission remained the same. The Borg purpose always remained the same.
“What is this place?”
“This place?” The purple woman repeated. “This is the Tangled Green. You got…” she pointed a steel-tipped weapon in one direction. “The Animus River that way…” She pivoted her body to gesture in another direction. “Ambrosia that way.” She pointed in a different cardinal direction. “That way to where it gets a little more mountainous. You can find some pathways that will eventually take you toward Yggdrasil.”
“Understood,” the Borg answered.
“So, did you see him?” The woman inquired. When the drone’s expression remained unchanged, she furrowed her brow and continued to stare as if she were watching an experiment of some kind. “Did you see Omni? Did he introduce you to the Omniverse.”
In its mind, the Borg recalled what it had initially passed off as neural trauma. After its severance from the Collective, it had experienced flashes of some entity speaking to it—speaking at it. Fragments of the creature’s words coalesced in the drone’s mind as it tried to piece together what had once been a shrouded memory. Something about an orb of colored lights.
Omnilium?
“Omnilium,” the Borg muttered as it glanced down at its slowly regenerating stump. “Rainbow. White man. ‘You will be… reborn’.”
The female creature smirked—a smug expression that may have carried a tinge of jealously. “A prime, then.” Just like that, she suddenly relaxed and her muscles slackened. “Do you know where you are going? Do you know where you would like to go? I can accompany you.”
“Why would you help me?” If it had eyebrows, the drone would have lifted one of them. “We have nothing to offer you.”
A gentler expression spread across the purple-skinned woman’s face. “You’re a prime. You have plenty to offer me. We can help each other, you and I.” At that, she reached out a hand—a strangely human gesture that the drone understood. “My name is Iyari. I’m a night elf.”
“I am,” the Borg clasped her hand. “I am Borg.”
“Fun name,” she muttered as they shook hands. When the gesture of goodwill was completed, the ‘night elf’ gestured with her head. “Let’s move. This area can get a little too occupied after the sunsets.”
Despite that… limitation, the Borg had noticed a variety of oddities along its lurching march through the green terrain. It had anticipated its biological tissues to ‘resurface’ given the failure of all but its most rudimentary Borg implants. Additionally, the Borg had expected pigmentation shifts and even follicle growth, and both of those developments had already started in earnest. However, there were other things occurring on what had to be the subcellular level that the Borg could not understand. A glance at its stump of a left hand revealed what appeared to be the generation of fresh tissues at the site where the limb had been amputated during the assimilation process.
The drone knew that Species 5618 had no regenerative properties, yet it was clear to the Borg that fresh tissues were being created.
“Too many variables.”
The Borg scowled as it lifted a hand up to its face. The deformed tissues and empty eye socket weren’t as distinct as they had been a few hours prior. Within a few additional hours, it would be had for anyone to tell that the drone had once worn metallic implants over half of its visage. Such an appearance would make it easier for it to go undisturbed as it regained its strength, but what would be the unintended cost of such course of action? Was there a repressed human psyche waiting to surface beneath decades of Borg assimilation?
Before the Borg could get lost in that train of thought, a voice broke what had been nearly an entire afternoon of silence.
“What brings you to these parts, Traveler?”
The Borg turned to confront the other figure and saw that it was staring at something that look nearly human. Despite similar posture and frame, its features were too slender, and it had pointed ears.
Vulcan?
No. Species 3259 had similar pigmentation to humans. Despite having Vulcan traits, the female who stood ten paces from the Borg had almost purple skin.
“Can you speak?” She asked as her features tightened. The Borg was unable to tell if that was supposed to be concern or distrust on her countenance. “Are you injured?”
Converse. Gather intelligence. Solve variables.
“No,” the Borg spoke, but even the monosyllabic word slurred its way through desiccated lips. “We…” The drone shook its head. Blend. “I have not been here long. Cannot. Do not know where I am. This world is new. White. Now green.”
The female’s expression softened as she lifted one of her oversized eyebrows. “You arrived via the Fountain of Infinity?”
“That is the name for the white?”
She nodded here head. “The Nexus. That’s where he drops all primes.”
“Define ‘he’.”
“Omni. He is the one who created this place. The one who brought you here.”
This place.
“What world are we on?” The Borg inquired.
The woman shook her head. “World? This is the Omniverse.”
Alternate timestream? Reality? Parallel universe? Regardless of the new parameters, the mission remained the same. The Borg purpose always remained the same.
“What is this place?”
“This place?” The purple woman repeated. “This is the Tangled Green. You got…” she pointed a steel-tipped weapon in one direction. “The Animus River that way…” She pivoted her body to gesture in another direction. “Ambrosia that way.” She pointed in a different cardinal direction. “That way to where it gets a little more mountainous. You can find some pathways that will eventually take you toward Yggdrasil.”
“Understood,” the Borg answered.
“So, did you see him?” The woman inquired. When the drone’s expression remained unchanged, she furrowed her brow and continued to stare as if she were watching an experiment of some kind. “Did you see Omni? Did he introduce you to the Omniverse.”
In its mind, the Borg recalled what it had initially passed off as neural trauma. After its severance from the Collective, it had experienced flashes of some entity speaking to it—speaking at it. Fragments of the creature’s words coalesced in the drone’s mind as it tried to piece together what had once been a shrouded memory. Something about an orb of colored lights.
Omnilium?
“Omnilium,” the Borg muttered as it glanced down at its slowly regenerating stump. “Rainbow. White man. ‘You will be… reborn’.”
The female creature smirked—a smug expression that may have carried a tinge of jealously. “A prime, then.” Just like that, she suddenly relaxed and her muscles slackened. “Do you know where you are going? Do you know where you would like to go? I can accompany you.”
“Why would you help me?” If it had eyebrows, the drone would have lifted one of them. “We have nothing to offer you.”
A gentler expression spread across the purple-skinned woman’s face. “You’re a prime. You have plenty to offer me. We can help each other, you and I.” At that, she reached out a hand—a strangely human gesture that the drone understood. “My name is Iyari. I’m a night elf.”
“I am,” the Borg clasped her hand. “I am Borg.”
“Fun name,” she muttered as they shook hands. When the gesture of goodwill was completed, the ‘night elf’ gestured with her head. “Let’s move. This area can get a little too occupied after the sunsets.”