Risen: Shatterverse

Rattled Cages

For a long moment we were lost in the fire fight, grimly shooting at anything that had tentacles or was the size of a building.

- Dead man, - the t'sang inside snapped tautly to grab my attention even as I chopped a handful of man-forms into dust with tight, fast blasts. - This position is untenable. Even with the greater effectiveness of your weapon, the governing program overseeing this universe in Garolan's absence has retasked every asset into destroying you alongside these intelligences fighting with you, having declared them rogue. It will shortly overrun this position by putting more nanite swarms into place than you have weapons to destroy. You must withdraw! - Then, as if to emphasize its point, the control interface for altering the pockets and moving between them, appeared on my wrist.

Ignoring it, I instead turned my rifle onto a pair of marauders that were successfully throwing some of their man-forms in front of them to act as shields against incoming disruptor fire, allowing them to get close enough to fire their arm cannons. The impact of that weapon fire was making the terran shields hum with strain. But, in testament to their resilience and power, they were holding. For now.

- And how do you know that, t'sang inside? - I countered as I carefully picked apart the nearest marauder's man-form shield in an attempt to expose its upper body.

- Whilst attempting to ascertain whether these intelligences were under guidance, I detected the governing program's interlink frequency, - it frostily informed me in response to my doubting tone. - I have penetrated its network and am observing in real time its decision tree as it attempts to rectify the prison's move towards disharmony with its stated purpose. -

Oh.

- Will it declare all of its AI rogue? - I wanted to know, nodding in satisfaction when I finally landed a shot that ripped the marauder's upper half into dust, the rest of its massive body collapsing an eyeblink later. I quickly switched over to its partner to begin knocking apart its man-form shield.

- Yes, - came the t'sang's curt answer. - With a lack of oversight from the governing program, the intelligences cannot be retasked. Once you are eliminated, it intends to purge them all and restart the universe's simulation. -

Fan-fuckin'-tastic. Wipe out its own guys. Sounds exactly like what the Collector would do, actually. What was a simulation being fought with AI and programs would become a real war between the orphaned AI's and their former master. What a fucking waste!

- Okay, you've convinced me, - I said, blasting aside the last man-form in the shield to put three blasts in close proximity to each other in the center of the marauder's chest. I nodded once more as it joined the dozens of its comrades in collapsing into silver dust.

- Blowing this popsicle stand. Before we do, though, are there any of my people in here? -

There was a slight pause before:

- Negative, - my passenger reported. - The governing program feared you'd be successful in rescuing them once it identified who you were via communication with the other pockets and shuttled them out of this particular universe before initiating this all-out attack on you and these intelligences holding this position. -

Well, at least there was that. But learning that the prison cells had their own governing programs was troubling, along with learning they were talking to each other. Almost as if Garolan knew at some point it wouldn't be able to directly take charge of any of them for some reason. Like, oh, I dunno, getting fucked up by nostrum in a deepsea horror show.

I kinda figured such complicated pocket universes would have something controlling them. It only made sense. I just didn't think they'd be smart enough to talk to each and shit.