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The great Imaginary Tree sprawls throughout space-time, branches and boughs sprouting and withering in the endlessness of possibilities. All worlds are contained within its boundless canopy, stretching out into forever. It is the very foundation of existence itself.
From this tree, incomprehensible in its greatness, there sprouts another tree. It, like it's mighty parent, is the structure of existence, though on a far smaller scale. It serves one world alone, and to that world it is known as Irminsul. To the people of that planet, it is a magnificent and powerful tree, holding the memories and rhythms of their world—though they know not it is merely a twig of a greater tree.
Irminsul, however, is not only a sprout of the Imaginary Tree, but it is also infused with Memoria. It functions as a sort of grand computer, with memory banks that protect the memories of an entire world. Therefore, like any computer that is connected to a larger mainframe, if a file is deleted... there may be a backup saved somewhere.
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If one had no destination in mind, can one truly be called "lost"?
She did not know where she was, but neither did Acheron know where she was going. She merely... drifted.
Her ultimate goal, of course, was to find Device IX, and in the interim, escort lost souls to their resting place, across the river of the dead. And, if a way existed, she may ease their passage.
She wondered if she could find any of these things in this place.
She was on same barren planet in the outer regions of the known universe, steeped in water and slimy bog life. A thick cloud of Memoria hung over the surface, dark and opaque as a moonless fog.
Acheron wandered through it, almost aimless, like a leaf being blown on the wind. Strange echoes seeped through the fog, wild whispers--some incomprehensible and foreign, and some... almost... familiar...
A light flickered in the corner of her eye.
Acheron paused, turning slowly towards it. It was a tiny flicker, like a small, pulsing light, it's edges drifting in the wind. It was not dissimilar to many lost souls she had seen... and yet...
She took a step towards it. Another.
She reached out to touch it with fingers that bled red--
And yet... it was not dead.
It pulsed faintly against her fingers.
"What do you wish for?"
The light pulsed again.
She could feel a tear, dirty and bloody, tracing down her cheek.
"...To never have been born at all?"
The light fluttered.
"...That is not within my power to grant." Acheron whispered. "All I have is my sword. Do you wish to die, instead?"
The light was still.
Acheron waited.
Still, the light moved not, frozen in indecision.
"Wandering spirit," Her voice was quiet, echoing off the water. "I am the ferryman. I escort the lost spirits of the dead across the river of the underworld. That is my purpose."
Then she smiled, as gently as a cherry blossom alighting on the water's surface. "...but a ferry can go both ways. There is nothing that says I cannot take the lost spirits of the living to the waking world."
She held out a hand, red as blood, red as the flush of life. "Come and wander with me, until you find your answer."
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Acheron knew that the spirit would never find an answer if it remained thus; a spirit.
The best thing to do would be to find it a body.
Acheron knew of only one place that would do.
"So... you need me to make a body for this memoria bubble." The Genius folded her arms thoughtfully, pursing her lips. "What kind of body? A puppet? Some other construct?"
The spirit's flame flickered, an emotion Acheron interpreted as distress.
"No puppets."
The genius scowled at her. "And why not? I use them myself, and that means they are the optimal--"
"It simply is not my preference," Acheron said firmly, and the genius sniffed.
"Suit yourself," Herta said, her tone communicating that she thought Acheron was both an idiot and determined to be one. "What do you want, then?"
"...A biological construct, but a hollow shell. Not a clone."
Herta tapped her fingers thoughtfully. "An organic robot, basically."
"...Yes."
"An interesting challenge. Perhaps a little more Ruan Mei's speed, but there is nothing I can't accomplish." Her fingers tapped again, a faint, eager glow of anticipation beginning to creep over her features. "I'll need some DNA--"
"You can use mine." Acheron said instantly.
The spirit wavered in shock, which surprised her. It seemed like the obvious answer.
After all... they were rather similar, at their cores.
Herta pursed her lips. "Any other specifications?" She asked, In the tone of one who makes endless demands and yet is irritated by someone else doing the same.
"Yes." Acheron said, solemnly. "It must possess a heart."
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The only other request Acheron had made was that the construct would be male. When Herta asked about any preference towards appearance, Acheron had gone quiet for a long moment, staring off somewhere only she could see. Then her lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. "You can take my features as inspiration, but I don't expect a carbon copy."
Herta narrowed her eyes. "What, are you trying to make a yourself a kid?"
Acheron merely continued to smile. "...Something like that."
Due to the technology Ruan Mei had left on the station, it was not long before the construct was complete.
Acheorn insisted she could insert the "memoria bubble" herself, and so was left alone with the construct, and Acheron fulfilled her promise.
The construct stirred and open his eyes.
They were blue. A deeper blue, like the night sky--not violet, like her own.
Acheron found herself smiling. Not even science and the genius of Doctor Herta could escape the rhythms of the universe, it seemed.
The construct blinked, looking down at his body, flexing a hand before his eyes. Then, his gaze snapped to Acheron, and his eyes widened.
"Welcome, wandering spirit," Acheron said, extending a hand, "To the world of the living."
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He stared at himself in the mirror. His form was like a young man, with features similar enough to Acheron that at a glance, one might assume they were siblings... or perhaps, even mother and son.
He looked at his hair- and ombre of navy to muted indigo, much like Acheron's own, that now hung to his shoulders.
"I need a haircut," he said. His voice was somehow both sharp and slightly raspy. He looked down at the simple hospital gown he had awoken in with an expression of disgust. "And clothes."
"That can be arranged." Acheron said mildly.
He shot her a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, looking away again just as swiftly.
Acheron sighed gently, an even gentler almost-smile on her face.
"I know what you're wondering," she said.
He scoffed, turning his head farther away.
"There are innumerable worlds in the universe, worlds that share similarities and yet are unique. The people of these worlds follow the same universal rhythm--and yet create their own beat." She sighed, soft as a ghost's breath. "My story is a reflection... and yet it is my own. I am not she whom you think me to be."
The boy stared into the mirror.
Acheron's voice was as gentle as raindrops, pattering off the surface of her umbrella. "Neither do you have to be who you were."
The silence of space filled the station.
Finally, the boy tossed his head.
"Pretty words," he sneered, "But I have only ever been what others make me."
"Perhaps," Acheron replied, "But here there is only you and me, and I am... nothing."
He eyed her, his eyes sharp as lightning... or perhaps the wind of a storm. "Not quite nothing."
Acheron's smile widened. "Yes, perhaps not quite."
He sighed, and dragged a hand through his hair. "Fine. You'd said you'd help me find an answer, didn't you? What's your plan? What do you want?"
"Your answer you have to find for yourself," Acheron replied, "But I will be your guide, if you wish. The universe is vast and contains many Paths, and the Star Rails bring freedom. Maybe you can find your answer there."
"Don't hold your breath," he said, but he followed her out of the room.
---( )---
"Well," Acheron said, as they stood together on the surface of some planet--she couldn’t remember where, "You have a haircut, new clothes, a new body. You have almost everything thing you need--" she turned slightly to look at him. "Save one."
He crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow. "What else is there?"
Acheron shrugged. "Do you wish to go by your old name?"
He scowled.
Rain began to patter against the pavement by their feet, and Acheron unfolded her umbrella. The kid's new hat should suffice for him--the one that made his eyes go distant when he saw it, the one that had a silhouette that seemed almost familiar... perhaps it was a garment style from her homeworld.
It would make sense, all things considered, but she could not remember.
"A name makes the person. When you find your answer, perhaps you'll want a new name, but I can give you one for now."
The rain fell harder, like the beating of a thousand drums.
Light arched across the sky, with a rolling peal of thunder chasing on its heels.
The boy blinked, an almost imperceptible flinch. Then he furrowed his brows and lifted his chin.
"Let's hear it."
Water ran down the street in little rivers winding through the blackness of the pavement, rushing past them. Acheron watched them solemnly. "According to the legends of a distant world, the Acheron is a river in the Underworld. But it is not the only one. Acheron of woe, Phlegethon of fire, Cocytus of wailing, Styx of hatred... and the Lethe." She tilted her umbrella up, just enough to look at him. "River of Oblivion and Forgetfulness."
A gust of wind rushed by, catching up raindrops and throwing it in their faces. The boy let out a harsh chuckle. "Oblivion and Forgetfulness, huh?" He tapped his fingers on his elbow for a moment, and then shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way."
Acheron tilted her head to one side, and once more, her lips curved into a smile's phantom. "Very well. Let's seek out a Path for you... Lethe."
With that, Acheron turned and took a step forward, and did not look over her shoulder when she heard Lethe's footsteps following after her.
The rain poured down. The clouds flashed with lightning. Thunder roared across the heavens. The wind sang as it flew by.
Two aimless wanderers walked down the road on a planet neither of them knew.
Two rivers ran down the pavement, dark as the underworld, until they reached a place they joined…and together, they rushed off into the starry sea.
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