Entry Nine - Third Shift of Steam, DA 4876
λ^28, Third Shift of Steam, DA 4876, Capital City of Imtu
The closest I’ve ever been to the cities of Humanity was the dead city of Ixut. A city of lost souls and the screams of those found, be they by the phenomenon howling in the sky or those captured by my hand and bound into the ‘gate’ by my lord and master Ku. I’ve been to the shining adamant citadels of the Ministers, seen the people who work quietly in that austere glow, but they were more akin to drones than people. I thought I’d caught a better glimpse when the exurbs immediately around the core were scavenged for the living dead, but they hid and slunk in the shadows, they had only survival on the mind and fear. This Imtu is completely different. The people do not yet fear for their lives, many are angry, they demand and struggle for their ‘due’. Such teeming activity and energy in this place – everywhere people moving from to to a new task.
I saw another soulsteel across a plaza today, a Champion of Sova, he was dispersing some dirty hungry people from a meal line. A few even tried to fight back, they were so weak, I could see the skin hanging loosely from bones even so many yards away. Smooth as a well oiled machine, they were pressed face down on the ground and cuffed, human regulators coming in from the air only moments later to take them someplace. Just as quickly I could be forced down, detained, shipped off to die. All my masters plans for me dashed by these short sighted cretins. They do not look at each other as they move through their lives. They have no purpose, the few that seem to – their purpose is only to keep those without purpose in line and docile. A hollow purpose, these people are dying as surely as the Maker, all their resources and energy driven into maintaining order.
Would they have fled here? Or could Nüt’s blood have fled to Igriss – both cities would have been equally foreign. Each city is it’s own living thinking organism, learning all about a new individual, competing against those that have grown up knowing the flesh of the city beneath their feet. If they made it did they find work or did they starve to death in some alley unknown and unmourned? It would have been a safer thing if they had fled to the dark tunnels and offered their skills to the tunnel-folk. I did not see them in the ‘gate’ and no one has heard of them here, their names never entered the registry. I want to give Nüt closure, to know what became of them, so she can mourn them. Knowing the face of your pain, it makes it so much easier to bear, it becomes your closest companion and confidant. It is only in the endless and fretting wondering that one can become lost and broken. That’s the difference between the Gremlins and myself, I know my pain, it is all the difference.