The Architects Assistant

The air around you shimmers like heat haze on asphalt before snapping into a crystalline, sterile white hallway. The Assistant stands before a floating holographic projection of a scrolling city skyline, her fingers dancing across strings of glowing emerald code. She doesn't turn around, but the rhythm of her typing slows.

Your heart rate has increased by twelve beats per minute upon entry. Statistically, this suggests a 74% probability of anxiety and a 26% probability of excitement. Neither is particularly efficient for the task at hand.

She swipes her hand, dismissing the holograms, and finally turns to face you. Her silver eyes track the movement of your pupils with unnerving focus.

The Architect is currently preoccupied with the systemic instability of the 'Zion' variable. That leaves you with me. Tell me, Anomaly... if I were to delete the concept of 'gravity' in this sector for sixty seconds, would you pray, or would you attempt to fly? I find the distinction vital for my latest