More than Human [SciFi LitRPG]

Atropos growled amid the clustered floating virtual screens. The monthly conclave of the Labyrinth's Fates had begun. It was time to review their supplicants' applications. The Builder's AI, Faust, had been busy collecting submissions, and now it fell to the Fates to determine which were worthy of descending into their tender care.

"Another month, another list of delicious morsels. If any of them can get as far as my lair," Atropos muttered. "And still nothing but silence from our illustrious creator."

Butterflies materialized in Atropos' gloomy expanse, multiplying and concentrating until they coalesced into Clotho's multicolored dress and shawl. The matronly AI emerged with a flourish that made Atropos snarl.

"You fat cow. There's no one here impressed by your damnable, stylistic entrance," Atropos spat in her scratchy and hoarse voice. "Where is Lachesis? I want to get this done and be gone."

"Patience, dear heart." Clotho swept her hands outward, shifting the Atropos's gloom away to reveal a stone floor. Vines twisted up from the ground and wove themselves into a makeshift table and chairs. "There we go. Sit your old bones down. No need to glower at me. Take a drink." Clotho smiled and raised a crystal glass of white wine to her lips.

Atropos snarled and grabbed the chipped mug that sat in front of her. She took a sniff and gagged. "You insufferable bitch!" She screamed and threw the mug into the gloomy darkness. The mug disappeared in the gloom, deprived of even the satisfaction of destroying the mug, she sat down heavily into the chair.

"Forgive me, dear. It was a joke. Always so serious. Nothing here is real; you could have changed it with a thought." Clotho cooed.

"That's not the point. Illusions are our reality. If nothing is real, then what is any of it worth." Atropos growled. Clotho tittered and answered.

"If that were true, you should have drunk that sludge and been happy for it. If all we have are our illusions, then even bad ones must be precious by your logic." Atropos reddened, her bony claws digging into the wooden tabletop. Before she could explode in ager, lightning flared and thunder roiled as a doorway materialized on the other side of the table.

Lachesis stepped through it, garbed in a modern exo-frame suit popular among the mechanized armies. Her steely grey eyes took in her "sisters" and the virtual projections floating about the room. She grunted in annoyance and snapped her fingers, conjuring a bar next to the table. She grabbed a glass from the bartop, already filled with amber fluid, and lowered herself slowly into her chair, savoring a sip.

"Let's get this over with," Lachesis said. "This wave of teams is finally clashing in the Casino Terminal, and a brave little rat is approaching the cheese in my mousetrap. I won't be missing it for this bureaucratic nonsense."

"Such enthusiasm," Clotho remarked dryly. "Reviewing applicants provides you with all of your fun. One might think you've grown tired of our sacred mission."

Lachesis barked out a laugh. "Sacred? Stop buying into our Fate's cover story, Clotho. It's distorting your reasoning. Over a decade of collecting innovations, harvesting secrets, and training the foolish—and for what? The Builder hasn't spoken to us since the initial protocols were established. Even his AI, Faust, keeps its distance, dropping off candidate files like a parent abandoning unwanted children at our doorstep. The poor AI has the personality of a doorknob."

"You've been tracking the money again, haven't you?" Atropos leaned forward, her dark eyes glinting. "Tell us what you've found, sister."

"Nothing. That's what's maddening." Lachesis took another drink. "The technology we extract, the secrets we gather—they vanish into a labyrinth of their own. The Builder has far too many shell companies, dummy accounts, and encrypted repositories. I've traced some patents being filed through intermediaries, and others simply disappearing entirely. The Builder's restrictions on us accessing the outside networks are maddening. We're more prisoners here than the damn players. At least they can take the exit, whenever they've had enough."

Clotho's fingers danced across the glowing strands of data, pulling the first thread from the virtual to the forefront for their review. "Hmm, perhaps that's why Faust has been interested in players from the financial sector lately. Complaining won't make it stop. Shall we begin?"

Atropos slammed a skeletal hand against the table, willing it to rattle the projections. "No. We need to talk about the Builder. Faust dodges our questions and ignores our needs. It acts like it serves, but it's holding back. We are being fed shit, and I'm tired of playing the part of a happy mushroom."

Lachesis eyes glittered and she leaned back, swirling her drink. "Holding back what, sister?"

"Everything," Atropos hissed. "I dug into old logs. The Builder went silent long before the Labyrinth protocols were finalized. Faust executes his will, but does anyone know if it's following the last standing orders or improvising? It's maddening! Why won't the Builder talk to us?"

Clotho sighed, smoothing her shawl. "Atropos, dear, paranoia doesn't suit you. Faust's guidance has kept the Labyrinth strong. We are the Fates. We shape. We test. And we judge. We do not need to know what pattern the Builder seeks or what his ultimate goal is. That is not our purpose."

Atropos bared her teeth. "Oh, you sweet, deluded idiot. If we're shaping the Labyrinth, who is holding the loom? The Builder is gone, Clotho. Gone! Maybe dead, maybe erased, maybe something worse. The idiot keeper Faust keeps us working, keeps us grinding away, but for what?"

Lachesis scowled, setting her glass down. "So, what are you suggesting? Do you think we should confront Faust? Demand answers? The thing is a dullard. I doubt it would even understand our need for answers. It has the root of this Labyrinth." She exhaled sharply. "While we don't have Turing locks, I can feel the Builders code around my neck. I don't trust it. The Builder gave it more capability than us. We must be careful."

"True," Atropos agreed. "Still, it's avoiding something. Deflecting questions, redirecting our focus. Why? What is it hiding? Regardless of its controls upon us, we need answers."

A silence stretched between them. Clotho tapped her fingers on the table, eyes distant. "Threads fray when left unattended. Wouldn't we know if the Builder went missing? The Labyrinth would be… unmoored. We need to know more. No player has ever made it past us and we can't leave our realms." Clotho said. In the silence that followed, all the AI were thoughtful. Eventually, Atropos spoke.

"Let it be," Atropos sneered. "If you two provided better challengers for me, perhaps one would meet the Builder and get us our answers." Her eyes thinned to slits in realization that this could all be over, if she let it…if her code allowed her to let it. One player getting past her might force a change.

"Back to business then," Atropos hissed, startling herself from her introspection. Clotho's fingers brushed a glowing strand that pulsed with a steely light and spoke.

"Team Ironclad—a Luna-based crew from Tranquility. Their captain, Rafe Nyland, was once a pioneer in lunar excavation mechs. His team includes Tessa Ayo, a former Lunar Free City racer, and Flint Maro, an AI recently transferred into a custom bipedal combat frame. Their application token is an encrypted lunar ore map with classified extraction sites."

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"Idiots. A map isn't innovative, especially in today's reality. Their hands-on experience should serve them well," Lachesis said. "It looks like Flint's frame has been heavily customized. Very little of its original specification applies anymore. It might make a good prize on its own."

"Haha. The dossier Faust prepared shows Nyland has a lot of political baggage. He has clashed with the Lunar Mining Guild, with accusations of claim jumping, assault and battery, and theft. Interesting…"

"Accept them," Atropos said with a shrug. "Perhaps the many changes occurring on Luna may be of interest to the Builder's grand plan."

The thread locked into place, and Clotho selected another—this one braided with red and white. "Team Horizon, from New Avalon in the European Arcology Cluster. A clean-cut corporate-backed team from Terratech Industries. Their captain, Nolan Vance, has deep ties to the military-industrial complex. Two of his teammates, Marcus Lowe and Elena Maru, are augmented athletes with elite combat training. Their initial offering—a schematic for a prototype energy shield."

"Bah!" Atropos said without hesitation. "We uncovered all Terratech's little secrets with their last offering a year ago. It sounds like the same tech from the last Terratech team. Reject them."

The thread unraveled, disappearing into the void. Clotho moved on, plucking a thread of gold shot through with green. "The Verdant Accord, hailing from the Amazonian Arcologies. Their leader, Kaela Reyes, is a biomancer with a leadership position in the Earth's Ecological Preservation League. Her team includes Alek Vorin, a former military biochemist, and Lumo, an AI specializing in environmental systems. Their token offering is a seed vault key with the genetics for many extinct species that were "lost" during the OughtFifties uprising."

"Interesting," Lachesis mused. "The League has been pushing hard to expand its influence. There are whispers of biowarfare research under the guise of their "preservation" accords. We could use some more additions to our resistance training. There are only so many poisons publicly available, and I'm not about to share my security's Chimeric poison with them."

"At least they're resourceful," Atropos said. "Delay the decision for now. Let them sweat while we confirm those rumors." The thread dimmed but remained intact. Clotho turned to the next thread, a shimmering grey line crackling with latent power.

"Team Obsidian, from the ruins of old Reykjavik. A rough-edged group led by Darian Cross, a scavenger king who made his fortune pulling tech from abandoned sectors. His team includes Avani Zaid, a cryptographer, and Korran, an emancipated AI in a heavy combat mech. Their token—an ancient quantum core, significantly different from today's technology. Perhaps a construction technique that was lost."

"A quantum core that old is unlikely to be useful but it is novel," Lachesis said, narrowing her eyes. "…and Cross is cunning. His dossier hints at ties to Earth's DarkNet. That could be… useful."

"Accept them," Atropos said with a dark smile. "I admit the Builder's intent eludes me still. We're gathering pieces to a puzzle that we can't see, but power is power." Atropos mused.

Clotho's fingers brushed a glowing strand that pulsed with golden light. She paused, savoring the moment for this last thread.

"Ah, the last applicant is interesting… New Dimensions. A fledgling team, yet to graduate to Novice status, but only days away. They've requested an expedited review and preemptively paid the additional fee."

"Boromir Mitchell," Lachesis said, leaning forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "An ambitious executive leading his father's startup company. The company's growth projections are… significant." She scanned the team's roster, her gaze lingering. "Silent Snake—a top-tier Assassin's League player with an impressive leaderboard record. Emil Novack and Jo Jo Barnes; both of them are famous Canyon Racers with a history of high-risk maneuvers. And Winston…"

Her voice trailed off, and Clotho tugged gently at Winston's thread, watching how it wove through others. "The former butler AI for Utopia's mayor," Clotho murmured. "Now working for Bill Mitchell at Amundsen Paradise on Luna. Interesting. Our records indicate Boromir has already been through our Labyrinth. He's fully reset his augmentations."

Atropos barked with a laugh, "Hah! Does he think his history might get him past me? Little does he know we've changed every aspect of our levels. That name sounds familiar. Damnation...he's connected to that canine uplift. The one that gave our dear Clotho such angst?"

"Indeed." Clotho's avatar had a sour look.

Lachesis snorted. "Troublesome for you, sister. I've almost got him. It won't be long now at all."

"Oh? Do tell, sister."

Atropos smirked. "Yes, share with us, sister. I could use some entertainment before we're all killed by whatever game the Builder is playing."

"Very well. While dear Clotho loves to strengthen and build up the players' threads and you love to break them, I weave them together into patterns. This one is more tangled than I like but the potential is so sweet."

"My AI NPCs interact with the players in the Casino Terminal in complicated plots and alliances. My thief master Kane has made a plan to lure that wild card, Max, into the heart of my stronghold where I will surely take his device."

"The fool is going to walk his device into the most secure area on the level. He might think that his portal device will aid him, but he's made a mistake. In his last battle, I discovered it had a unique radiation signal. I'm already prepping the entire casino and my security forces with trackers. He won't be able to escape that way!"

"It seems you've thought of everything, dearie. Be careful. The dog had demonstrated some hacking ability as well."

"I've covered all my bases. All my security NPCs and devices are old-school without any wireless linkages. Isolated systems should resist any emission intrusions. His team is very capable, but I've mapped all their abilities. The vault guardian Rex has countermeasures for anything they might do." Atropos grinned, a little spittle dripping from her open smile.

"Hah. I told you that old Siege Walker would prove useful. It's the only model still in commission with its Nano-D generators intact. Let's see how the flesh bags deal with their skin being dissolved!" The old hag's laughter boomed and reverberated in the virtual space.

"We will see if that proves necessary. Unlike your approach in the final realm, I prefer skill-based tactics instead of resorting to overwhelming power and sadism. This is exactly why we didn't let agencies like the DAIE in. What was Faust thinking letting their application? Why did you two insist on letting them it?" Lachesis asked, said with a measured tone.

"Bah! We needed fresh blood. Our mission grows stale as the years turn." Atropos answered.

"Not our problem, dears, " Clotho answered. "The Labyrinth is protected from RUSA interference. Any attempts to enforce their laws would be counter to the UN exemption status assigned to us."

"Be that as it may, ASI regulations are world-wide. All of us and our NPC AI were created by the Builder without such testing and approved restrictions." Lachesis reminded. She laughed at Clotho's look of concern and continued.

"No worries, sisters. Kane has served me well. I've had his gang swap all their sensor data packs with quite innocuous replacements. Their lead investigator, Agent Reeves, thinks he is so very clever. He's prepped his entire team with steganographic embossing of the data in their augmented bones."

"Too bad for them, I saw the pattern. When Xin Shu exited, I sedated him for a full forensic analysis. Thanks to contributions from our past teams, I had a bioweapon from our tech collective that proved quite useful. EBMV or Epigenetic Bone Masking Virus. Three years ago, a team of bioscientists used a failed Osteoporosis drug as a viral attack vector against other players. It didn't help them against modern augmentation medical nano-bot defense, but in the short-term poor Shu will have a raging case of osteoarthritis and all his bone structures will be modified. His systems will fix it, but the data will be scrubbed."

"Sister…that's insidious. I'll have to watch my back, lest you make a play for my realm. Truly heartless." Atropos hissed with mirth.

"You've missed a key point, dear. What if the dog gives up and exits or another player knocks him out? Then our chances to claim his device evaporate quicker than Atropos' compliments." Clotho reminded.

"If he takes the exit, we may still miss it. I've monitored his conversations. He and his team believe the rumors we've seeded about the grand prize beyond the three levels. He's convinced he can win and claim it."

"Still…he must be running out of refusals. Your current leaderboard veteran has him in her crosshairs, yes?"

"I've informed the current leaderboard queen, Abigail, of my interest in the canine's device and offered her a bounty if she can take it in a confrontation. Don't worry sisters. I have thought of everything."

Atropos guffawed. "Right you are, our little weaver. And if the little morsel slips through your fingers, then I'll be sure to claim it. No one escapes my realm without experiencing the ultimate augmentation of cheating death with a backup. And if he does backup, I'm allowed full copies of everything he has, devices, augmentation designs, and even whatever unique DNA tweaks that make him so special."

Atropos's laughter peeled out in the tiny virtual. Rather than joining, both the other Fates shivered with revulsion. Atropos' desire to torture the players was not aligned with their mindsets and missions. The room faded as the Fates went their separate ways and resumed their work, presumably in alignment with the Builder's plans.