As pieces of her plan fell into place, Faetalis would double-back on Infactorium; her intention to try and grasp what processes could and couldn’t be put into place. As far as her cursory scans indicated, they were without any Unit Production, beyond the capabilities of Mae’s kitchen, and only “Staffing Units” seemed to remain intact, from Tungsten’s admission to the state of his Factory’s more advanced robotics, and the lack of Gamma’s more evolved insectoids.

Normally, with such forces to bear, Infactorium would see this place as an easy holdout, and nothing more - normally.

There was nothing normal about this. Faetalis still refused to believe she was anywhere, but trapped inside her game - this addiction she held - yet, physical damage hurt, her pseudo-human body was fatigued, and she could feel the assault of the cold air against her synthetic skin.

This felt real.

Then, there was the problem with MinMaxine, and the strange debuff that held her unresponsive. Why was she in such a state, while the other Overseers of her peers that had been dragged on this wild journey with her had come out relatively unscathed? Although, notably shaken in different ways at the probable loss of their “mothers” and “fathers” - now a painfully permanent reality for some, such as Levia, while still a hopeful denial for others, such as Mae. For now, she could only hope to distract them, employ them, as they were always meant to be, and deal with the emotional damage later.

[color=add8e6][i]...could they even truly feel emotions?[/i][/color] Faetalis couldn’t help but wonder that, as she walked the hallways; stepping around ventilation grates turned to pits and over fissures from factories shoved out of place. They still functioned like Overseers - followed orders, prioritized the Guild, and obeyed her without question... but, Faetalis couldn’t lie to herself that they weren’t...

[i][b][center]Awake.[/center][/b][/i]
Not “alive”, but “awake”. That was truly the right term for it. They were thinking on their own terms, and not just following codes and routines - they weren’t acting like A.I. functioning under set rules, but other players, as well. At first, Faetalis thought, perhaps, they were her friends - trapped in their own creation - but, they were too much their programmed personalities, and moving past them into their own evolved personalities.

Case in point, as Faetalis watched Cormac pace before a window; lost in his own wonderings and ponderings, before he reached a consensus with himself, and returned to the window to be greeted by, not darkness, but her glowing eyes and the cool night’s air. IN YGGDRASIL Online, he would never allow himself to be brother by whatever had caused him such internal drama.

Even a fool could see, something was troubling him.

“[color=add8e6]You seem restless...[/color]”