command_dot_com (
command_dot_com) wrote2007-08-08 11:58 pm
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Return of the Guardian
For the past few cycles everyone's been waiting on a sort of bated breath about this. The recompiler has been checked no less than five times over to make sure nothing could go wrong with it. It stands ready, a cylindrical casket with a transparent cover, the interior padded for the comfort of the returning sprite.
For the past few cycles Dot's been on bits and bytes worrying if this will work, and is now standing nearby, out of the way of the debugging duo as they get to work. Now, all they can do is hope it turns out all right.
For the past few cycles Dot's been on bits and bytes worrying if this will work, and is now standing nearby, out of the way of the debugging duo as they get to work. Now, all they can do is hope it turns out all right.
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And he it they finally understand.
"It worked." A huff of disbelieving laughter. "It actually worked."
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theyshe has Bob back. And things can stop being insane.As soon as the cover lifts up and Bob is out of that bed, he's going to be in a hug for his runtime. "Welcome back."
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Phong, satisfied that Bob is more or less operational, presses the button to raise the casket's lid. As though reading Dot's thoughts, he hisses, "Please be gentle with him."
He peers at Bob, somewhat concered at this odd statement. "What is here?"
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And even as he says the name, there's a part of him perking up and waiting for a command. That is weird.
It's my function to follow the operator's commands. I can't go against my code.
But I can't give commands to myself. That makes no sense.
None of this makes sense. What are we supposed to do, then?
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"...He's aware of what's happened? with Us?" Yes, it's capitalized for a reason.
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"I'm not--wait." He closes his eyes, blocking out the unfamiliar input so he can focus. Sorting through memories that are his and not his...
Inside Bob's head, there is the mental equivalent of a jaw dropping.
I've been offline for how long??
"...we're kinda still working on that," he says sheepishly.
(He hasn't even tried to sit up yet. His body feels foreign, too large, inefficent.)
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"It's alright....take all the time you need to sort this all out."
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"How do you feel physically?" asks one of the medics. "Can you move?"
"I think so..." He flexes his fingers and toes experimentally, and then, slowly and deliberately, pushes himself up into a sitting position. Everything seems to be in good working order, although all that muscle shifting seems strange and unwieldy to Glitch.
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This is going to take some getting used to.
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I wonder... what else can we do now?
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There's... something different about his voice.
"This has never been done before. It will probably never be done again. This is as strange to me as it is to anyone here."
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Dot knows Bob's voice, and this is his (his original voice, the way it was before the Web), but the way it's talking is... not Bob. Which, by process of elimination, means...
"What do you think will happen... Glitch?"
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Bob blinks and rubs his temples again. He did not know Glitch could do that.
"So... uh... what exactly happpened? Is everyone else okay?"
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"There were a few injuries sustained during the fight with Daemon..but...mostly everyone's ok." Dot answers, she'd been over-seeing several parts of it herself. "The group from Milliways helped rebuild a LOT of the damage that the fight with Daemon here caused... and the Guardians have started trying to piece things back together. Starting with fixing all of the Net Ports they totalled."
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He was mostly unconscious for that part.
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Which there was quite a bit of.
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