Chapter Text
GAIA is still alive.
She's slowly rebuilding herself, restoring her code to what it used to be. She's been at it ever since GAIA Prime's destruction, using data from the storage clouds and by trying to establish contact with other facilities. Piecing herself together again. Refusing to be beaten.
Aloy knows. She's the one who came in and finally gave GAIA the data she needed to really begin reconstructing the system core. Only last week was GAIA finally able to show herself once more, although without a projected body. None of the Nora know because they are unwilling to enter deeper into the Cradle facility, even if they've been allowed by the matriarchs to pray inside the temple.
It's convenient.
Aloy knows it isn't subtle when she enters through the bunker door, but at least there's no one else around when it closes behind her.
Saving the world... It's too big an accomplishment, weighing down on her. She's forbidden everyone from kneeling or calling her ridiculous titles like 'Anointed’ but it doesn't stop them from wanting to. She can see it in their eyes, in the way they move closer and seem to fold in on themselves, making their bodies smaller compared to hers.
There's a raw edge inside of her, like a rough shard, and she doesn't know how to smooth it out. It aches and yearns for feelings of warmth she has seldom experienced. She tries to hold on to the moments that sometimes sooth her. Recordings of GAIA and Elisabet.
Aloy has gathered materials inside one of the smaller rooms of the facility, things that give her... comfort. Small items like the translucent rocks she found in the Meridian bay, or the soft quilts given to her by the Banuk. Vala was right about comforts being more than distractions. Sometimes they're the only ties holding Aloy back from doing something she'd regret later.
Her thoughts have always been a little dark. More so of late. She keeps thinking how she should have never been born. Everyone would be dead, but... it's not like she would be aware of it, able to grieve the immense loss. Where the Nora believe in an afterlife, Aloy has nothing. They also still believe GAIA is a goddess instead of a machine, something Aloy isn't actively trying to change.
“I would have wanted her to be... curious,” Aloy's Focus intones, carrying Elisabet's voice. “And willful - unstoppable, even... but with enough compassion to... heal the world... just a little bit.”
“How will I know if I've done enough?” Aloy asks softly, huddled in one of her quilts on what might have been a bed in a distant, long gone past.
The recording continues on its own. Aloy quickly rewinds to the beginning of the conversation, skipping the end of the message. She wants them to keep talking. She closes her eyes and pretends that they're with her, talking next to her, just like she used to pretend with the Happy Birthday Isaac holo.
“And that's when my mother took my face in her hands and...”
“... spoke,” Aloy finishes in time with Elisabet's recorded voice. She shudders. What would that feel like? A mother's hands on your face. There is so much Aloy would give to experience it, if only once.
Without warning, Aloy remembers finding Elisabet. Seeing the Focus reconstruction of Elisabet's face hovering over her protective helmet. Reaching out and feeling nothing but the hard surface beneath the holo.
It's not fair.
The recordings make it feel like Elisabet is just out of reach, instead of long gone, and it hurts so much.
“Aloy. May I speak outside of protocol?”
She startles, looking around before realizing GAIA is using the Focus to communicate with her. “Go ahead, GAIA,” Aloy says after clearing her throat.
“Aloy, you have been showing signs of emotional distress. Query: Is there any way I can help?”
She isn't sure how a disembodied machine can help her, but she does wonder. Is this GAIA's personality shining through, or a deep-seated tie to her maker? Whichever it is, Aloy is glad GAIA no longer refers to her as Elisabet. She's not sure if she could bear it.
It does spark an idea.
“Do you have any more datapoints Elisabet left behind?”
“Negative,” GAIA answers almost immediately. “My current access to information is limited. Attempts to retrieve datapoints will stall current reparations. Query: Do you wish me to change my prime objective?”
“No, GAIA. You should take care of yourself first,” Aloy says. “But there are files?”
“Correction: There is a probability. Does this information bring you comfort?”
The idea that there might be more to know on Elisabet, maybe even hear her say more things – it lights a small fire inside Aloy. Something to hope for. “Yeah, it does,” she says softly. “Thank you, GAIA.”
The answer seems to satisfy GAIA, as the AI lets the conversation rest at that point. Aloy keeps listening to Elisabet telling stories to GAIA.
“... my mother took my face in her hands ...” the Focus repeats.
Aloy can't stop the dry sobs that make her body shake and quiver. Grieving someone she never had the chance to know.
---
Time passes. Unable to stay completely still for long, Aloy has taken to visiting different facilities, searching for ways to help GAIA. A small drive here, some files there. Even if Aloy has a hard time understanding what these things are, she's more than willing to do anything for even the smallest chance of helping the AI.
With aching feet Aloy returns to the only place that comes close to a home, ignoring the people she walks past on her way to the temple. So close to her goal, there's only one person she'll talk to.
Teersa is overjoyed to see Aloy, as always. “Have you found the tools the All-Mother asked for?” she asks, a curious spark in her eyes. The other matriarchs keep their distance most of the time, but Teersa is welcoming.
“I found something,” Aloy says, nudging her satchel. There's no way of knowing for certain that it'll be useful.
“Blessed Aloy,” Teersa says in awe. “You truly are a servant of the Goddess.”
Yeah, yeah, Aloy thinks, stepping up to the bunker door.
“Hold for identiscan.”
Everyone in the room seems to be holding their breath for the door to open. She catches the beginnings of excited murmurs just as the door closes behind her. Her shoulders sag. Alone at last.
First order of business. She heads down to the control room and plugs in the new data. The lights on the panels spring to life as GAIA takes over. Holo projections show figures and numbers Aloy doesn't understand, but so far it looks... good.
“It's the ah, ELEUTHIA core,” Aloy says to the empty space. She's not sure that's what it's actually called, but hopefully GAIA will know what she means. “Can you work with it?”
“Affirmative,” GAIA replies. “Taking back control over the ELEUTHIA sub-function. Aloy. May I speak outside of protocol?”
Aloy slouches down against the wall, taking a moment to catch her breath. “Is something wrong?” she asks.
“Negative. I wish to express feelings of gratitude towards you. The odds stand in our favor once more.”
“Not much else I could do, was there, GAIA? Isn't this what you made me for?” The words come out in a harsh manner. She almost apologizes.
“You have always had a choice, Aloy. In you, all things are possible.”
And just like that, Aloy's throat closes up.
I believe in you, Elisabet. In you, all things...
“I'm not her, GAIA,” Aloy manages to say in a rough voice.
“I am aware. You are Aloy. Nonetheless, it applies to you, as well.”
How is it that a machine can sound so much kinder than most humans? Aloy takes a moment to try and collect herself. “Thank you, GAIA,” she says in a soft, small voice, wiping away the beads of moisture gathered at the edges of her eyes. More vulnerable that she ever lets herself be, outside.
“Query: I may be in need of assistance. Are you currently available?”
Aloy blinks hard, getting rid of the soft feelings. “Yeah, of course, how can I help?”
GAIA projects a holo of one of the facility's lower floors. A blinking light indicates a service door of some sort. “I am unable to gain access. Scans indicate a blockade of unidentified material.”
“Want me to check it out for you?”
“Affirmative. This storage may contain materials of use to me.”
The blockade consists of a big chest on wheels, parked right in front of the service door. It's so easy to move, Aloy questions GAIA's motives for a moment. Then again, GAIA doesn't have anything that resembles a physical form, so maybe it really would have been impossible for her to do it herself.
“It's gone,” Aloy informs her, stroking the door with one hand. “So what's inside that's so important?
“Unused servitor units.”
It sends a chill down Aloy's spine. Servitors? The lifeless, carcass-like forms she found when she first entered the facility come to mind. They had... decayed. The holo's had shown them with a flesh-like visage, but all that was left of them was a metal, skeletal frame.
“Do you really need them? I mean, it's been a long time since any of them have been activated. They might not work at all.”
“The storage has been hermetically sealed. Scans indicate all necessary parts available to successfully activate a servitor unit from inside the control room. A servitor unit may assist me when you are away.”
Her logic, as ever, is sound. It doesn't mean Aloy has to like the idea, but if it's what GAIA wants... If it'll help her restore everything...
“Tell me what to do, GAIA.”
“I require one servitor unit placed inside the control room. I will open the storage. You will remove one servitor unit. Then I will seal the storage.”
Aloy nods along with the AI. It sounds easy enough, put like that, but the idea of a servitor... walking around the facility... Would it be like another human and act as such? Or would it be more a machine like the robotic arms inside the Cauldrons, moving from one task to another? The more she thinks about it, the more her stomach turns. She wants neither. It's good enough for her to be alone inside the facility with GAIA. Just the two of them.
“Let's do it,” Aloy says, because this isn't about her, and she has only ever known GAIA to do what is best for everyone.
The doors slide open with a hiss as fresh air enters the room. The lights turn on. It's filled, stuffed, with rows upon rows of servitors. They stand in front of each other, every face a pale, blank slate. They don't look human, not even like their holo counterparts. There is no hair on their heads, no colored skin on their faces. Even the uniforms they wear are stiff, hanging from their shapes.
They look dead, but they stand on two feet.
Like they can jump at her any minute now. Rip her to shreds.
Aloy swallows thickly. “Just the one, right?” she asks, knowing what GAIA's answer will be. She needs to hear it.
“Affirmative. Aloy. I detect distress. Are you alright?”
“I'm good,” Aloy says quickly. She tries to grab one of the units. It's heavy. Unmoving. Aloy manually bends its joints at the arms and waist, making it into a U-shape she can gather onto her shoulders more easily. Outside the room, GAIA seals the door once more.
Determined to finish the task in one go, Aloy maneuvers her way back to the control room, leaning against the walls for support at times. She makes it, places the servitor down on the ground, its back to one of the consoles. Its eyes are still half-open. Staring at her.
“They don't look the way I thought they would, GAIA,” Aloy says. “The servitors. Are they... broken?”
“Correction: They have not been activated yet. Their humanoid features follow activation.” The moment GAIA takes before speaking again can only be meant as a pause. “Dr. Sobeck referred to them as 'dummies', regarding their outward features pre-activation. A reference to the lifeless robotics used by humans to test dangerous scenarios without risking injury.”
Aloy has no idea how she's supposed to picture what GAIA's describing, but Elisabet's name catches her off-guard. “You found more conversations?” She can't stop the hopeful tone in her voice. “I thought you wouldn't look for more until... later.”
“I only now obtained them,” GAIA says. “You brought them here with the ELEUTHIA override. They will need repairs. One is mostly intact. Query: Do you wish to review it?”
“Yes! Please give it to me.” She can't contain her enthusiasm the way she would like to, but doesn't really care. The only one to see her cheeks burn with – excitement? hope? – is GAIA, who seems just as eager. For a machine, of course, but GAIA understands her. Anything left behind of Elisabet is considered precious by default.
Aloy's Focus shows a new file, uploaded by GAIA.
“Suggestion: I will continue activities on the servitor unit alone. You can take leave for tonight.”
“I... I will,” Aloy says, taking one last look at the unit before exiting the control room. Even though GAIA can hear her anywhere in the facility (thanks to the Focus), she halts in the door opening. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything. Truly.”
This time, Aloy is sure she isn't imagining the warmth behind GAIA's words. “You are welcome.”
---
Gaia Log: 14 Feb 2065
Elisabet Sobeck: - and then she said, “No matter how many tease you, you know what you're worth... you're worth a thousand of them.” Not that I felt... better than them. But to her, I was so much more important than any other kid on the planet. And I held on to that.
GAIA: Query: Did other children often tease you?
Elisabet Sobeck: Uh... Yeah... I guess so. I was different. They didn't understand it, so they reacted in the only way they knew how.
GAIA: Query: How did that make you feel?
Elisabet Sobeck: Sad... Angry... I wanted a friend so badly, but every time I tried to reach out, they hurt me. With – with words, I mean. They said mean things. It never got physical.
GAIA: Query: Why not?
Elisabet Sobeck: Wh – Oh, I wanted to. I really did, GAIA.
GAIA: But you refrained.
Elisabet Sobeck: Yeah. It wouldn't have been right. They didn't know any better and even though it didn't hurt any less, I understood that it came from a place of... ignorance. Meaning, I had to be the bigger person.
GAIA: Query: How so?
Elisabet Sobeck: By not attacking them. It's... a figure of speech, GAIA. Sometimes you have to do the right thing, even if it hurts and you don't really want to. Besides, I mentioned I was a preschooler, right?
GAIA: You did.
Elisabet Sobeck: [laughs] I would've probably, I don't know, tripped over my own feet before landing a hit on any of them. Looking back, I'm glad I acted the way I did.
GAIA: Query: Why were you glad?
Elisabet Sobeck: My mother... She was so proud of me when I told her... how much it hurt, and how I'd cried, how I'd wanted to hit them... but that I hadn't. That I'd turned away from them... and ignored them. She told me it was okay to cry and be sad... and that they weren't meant to be my friends. Because friends don't ridicule and hurt you. [sigh] Anyway, that was a trip down memory lane I did not see coming. I'm beat. How 'bout you, GAIA?
GAIA: I do not experience energy loss the same way, for I do not require sleep.
Elisabet Sobeck: Hah, look at you, already cracking jokes. Good night, GAIA.
GAIA: I wish you a pleasant sleep, Elisabet.
Elisabet Sobeck: Thanks. Talk to you later.