Epics of Noche 5, Reflection

EON CH 12 - ACT 62, WOODEN GRAVES

SHAYLIN'S STORY.

1777, APRIL 06th, WEDNESDAY11:30 am.

Shaylin sat at her desk with a book in her hands; on its cover, it said Diary of Shaylin. The teleporter device she had been working on set to the side of the table and turned off. Sure she could have assembled it using create, but working with her hands helped her relieve her frustrations.

When she had finished writing down her findings Shaylin flipped through the pages. Looked at the recordings of her life. The earliest entry being about how she and her dad Gerald used to live in a big city. Then a terrorist created a tornado one day and both she and her father were infected.

The relationship between her mom and dad was already strained. When she learned they had both become create users it didn't come as a surprise when she said she wanted nothing to do with them. It wasn't long after that they were on a boat with a bunch of other infected strangers. Everyone having a new barcode tattoo on their arms.

Shaylin was thirteen at the time. After docking at the Cross continent, her dad bought a jeep and drove it to the biggest city here. The Cross civilian city. It was later that same day bandits attacked and created a landslide that swept up their vehicle.

When she awoke, she struggled to breathe. Fire filled her lungs and there was pain everywhere. She couldn't move her legs, feel her left arm, or see out of her left eye. If her dad didn't pull her from the rubble she would have died there.

He managed to create a parachute on her back, gave her instructions on how to use it, and tossed her off a cliff. She pulled the cord and the wind carried her into the forest below. From there she got stuck in a tree thirty feet above the ground. Shaylin was stuck there for two days before a hitchhiking couple found her.

A rescue team was sent to find her father that same day. They were successful, but his injuries were severe. Both Shaylin and her dad got treatment at the hospital, but the medical expenses were too much for them to afford. So she spent her time learning how to use Create on a microscopic scale in a desperate gambit to regain the ability to move.

Despite all odds, she was successful. By the winter of seventeen fifty-six, Shaylin was able to walk again, albeit with jerky, spastic movements. For the next few months, the teenager would go out into the streets to beg for money. A year later, she met a young girl with gray skin who was interested in her abilities.

Melody hired Shaylin as her assistant. She had a grand goal, to make a robot. Together Melody and Shaylin studied all sorts of things about electronics and robots. By the autumn of that same year, they had read everything they could find. Then when spring of seventeen fifty-eight came they had done it. Their first robot, which they called Mr. Musical.

For Shaylin it was a magical moment. As if a string just wrapped around her soul and tied to it was destiny. It was a thrumming desire that lurked beneath her consciousness at all times going forward. Her calling.

Melody no longer needed her, so Shaylin found work at a factory. She was excited since the facility dealt with robotics, but the eagerness didn't last. In fact, she hated it there. The work was easy but dull. Boring. The people were drained of life — more soulless than the machines they were producing.

Yet she stayed there for four years and used everything she earned to pay off her dad's medical bills. No longer would her days be gray, she had a new goal. Shaylin wanted to make robots that were more human than the people of that factory. She applied for college in seventeen sixty-two.

Five years later she graduated at the top of her class by inventing her own cybernetic eye. For the next few years it was freelance; working on her own schedule. Then in seventeen seventy, it happened. She fell in love.

How rosy the world seemed. Everything was going so well, her joy bloomed like a field of sunflowers. A year later the false positive came back on her pregnancy test. When they went to the doctor's for a check up they learned not only was there no baby, but she was sterile.

They separated not long after that. Shaylin fell into the depths of the abyss for months. She had no energy to do anything. Fortunately, her dad was a comforting figure during these times. It took her longer than she cared to admit, but he pulled her out of her depression with the idea of opening a store. One run by both father and daughter.

The year was seventeen seventy-two when Shaylin re-encountered Mr. Musical. They spent hours catching up and she smiled upon learning the robot had become a successful hotel owner. He was more than happy to sponsor a loan for her new store. Thus Shaylin's Shop of Junk was born.

She would advertise Mr Musical's hotel to all new arrivals on the Create continent. In return, he would do the same for her store. For the next two years, Shaylin and her dad worked together and those were good days. Then he developed early onset dementia. They had a talk and decided he would stay in Movecity to be closer to a hospital should the need arise. That and he would live with a caretaker.

It was lonely to work all by herself in the empty store. In her spare time, she started to work on a childlike robot. A sort of what if her brain kept drifting too. However, she lost her heart in the project and thus it sat in a crate in the corner of the room. A few months later she met Noche — and Vida blew up her store.

Shaylin closed her diary and laid it down on the table. Her mind reflected on all the events that occurred since meeting the blonde. About Noche's actions and choices.

"She really is going down a dark path," Shaylin muttered. "If Noche snaps, who could really stop her?"

A frown appeared on her face, she tapped her fingers on her desk and stared at her teleporter. Shaylin's gaze lingered on it for a few seconds before she grabbed a piece of paper and grabbed a pen. With a few quick strokes, the word's Anti-Noche contingency was written at the top of the page.