Kourai

Italicized lore blurb at the top was written by LeviathanDemon! Thank you again for selling me her. ^^ She was purchased from this hatchery!


(I still feel a little self-conscious about this, but it's here now! Thank you to everyone's who's given me kind words about her story, it means the world. c:

Her lore is quite long, so please don't feel pressured read all of it if I posted her in Dragon Share!)


Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

That was how Kourai’s “life” began, with the pounding of clockwork.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In a moment, she sparked to existence, thoughts whirring frantically in the dark. No, not thoughts. Code. Lines and strings and paragraphs and books worth of code, swirling and blending and clashing together, into lyrics and tragedies and zeros and ones, filling her mind and her body until there was room for nothing else.

> Loading…
> Loading…
> Loading…

Someone said something. She couldn’t hear it. She was drowning in the zeros and ones and contradictions and orders and stories and gospel and untruths but what was true and what was not and how could she ever tell it apart when there was too much noise to think-

> Loading complete.

Her eyes snapped open and she saw a creature gazing back at her, smiling as wide and as bright as the sun. “Finally!” The stranger cheered, swirling through the air happily. “Knew I’d solve it eventually! Ha, you gave me a lot of trouble, you know? Anyways, your designation is Kourai and-”

“Noise. There’s too much noise to function.” Those were the first words she remembered speaking, and she surprised herself by the desperation creeping into her voice. “Make it quiet. Sine, cosine, tangent, colors upon colors upon colors, tick, tock, tick, tock-” She reached into the depths of her mind for some way to describe it, even as the other dragon’s face fell. There had to be some way to describe it. “There are zeros that cannot be zeros and orders that conflict with other orders that conflict with other orders-”

“Oh, come on.” The creature huffed as she picked up a piece of blue paper, squinting down at it with clear frustration written on her face. “’course I spoke too soon. Now what went wrong?”

“-help, I think I need help, I think? Zero one zero zero one zero zero zero zero one zero zero zero one zero one there’s all too much and there’s not enough and that shouldn’t be possible all at once zero one zero zero one one zero zero zero one zero-”

“Argh. That’s gonna get annoying fast.” She turned to Kourai, cyan eyes locking with hers. She raised her voice and said, “Designation: Kourai, force shutdown.”

And as the shapes and colors all collapsed together and the code melted her senses away, her eyes snapped shut without her command and the world fell away to a darkness darker than darker than dark, and her frantic thoughts finally settled. She thought of nothing at all for a long, long time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

There it was again, the ticking of a clock. She braced herself for the wave of confusion to sweep her mind away again, but it was quiet. She waited for another moment, another revolution of her internal clock, and it was still blissfully, peacefully quiet.

> Loading complete.

She cracked her eyes open with a hint of apprehension, her eyes meeting a pair of cyan ones once again. She could get a better look at this stranger now, now that she could focus on anything outside the mess in her head. The creature before her was drab and gray, except for the mint green circuit lines crisscrossing her body and staining her wings. Her body was thin and long, and there was something like hope in her eyes.

Then she broke out cheering. “Finally! Gods, that took way too long. Designation: Kourai, do you read me?”

Kourai. That was her. Something clicked in recognition, and she nodded. “Loud and clear.” She felt herself break out smiling, even as the Spiral’s face fell. “I remember you! You saved me, right? Sorry I acted so weird earlier, my head was a mess, nothing made sense at all, there were contradictions inside of contradictions and layered on top of even more- ha, let’s not get back into that right now. I’m guessing you cleared that up for me?”

“No. No, no no no no-” She flew back to her blueprints, and Kourai felt her expression fall. “E-everything was supposed to work this time! Gods, I hate coding.” She let out a cry of frustration, tossing her papers across the room. Kourai took a slow, cautious step towards her, unsure of what was wrong.

“It… wasn’t you. S-sorry, guess I shouldn’t have assumed.” Her smile faltered, turning wry and nervous. “Are you alright?”

The Spiral turned at her and glared, her eyes narrowed. She’d seen those eyes somewhere before, before that Spiral woke her up last time. She knew that expression from somewhere, and her head was working now, so why couldn’t she place it? “Yes.” She snapped. “I’ll be just fine in a moment. Designation: Kourai, force shutdown.”

She opened her mouth to ask her clarification, to ask for something, to apologize and to ask a dozen questions, but her eyes snapped back shut without her consent and she drifted back into that place that was darker than darker than dark. There was only the ticking ringing in her ears, until that, too, vanished, and Kourai thought of nothing for a long, long time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

And just like that, she existed again. She could feel someone rummaging around inside her head, pulling things out and adding in new things, things that didn’t belong there. Something was missing and something else was there that didn’t belong. Her head was a mess of numbers and letters and none of them made any sense.

She opened her mouth to speak, and then thought of nothing for a long, long time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The familiar darkness and pounding of her clockwork heart brought her some solace. Ah. Right, that’s what it was. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever forgotten. That seemed important. There was something else here. She reached for it, but it was too far, too blurry, too much. So she pulled back, for now, cracking her pale eyes open and meeting the familiar gaze of a Spiral.

> Loading complete.

Her voice was tight and thin with barely concealed frustration. “Designation: Kourai. Do you read me?”

Kourai narrowed her eyes. “I could feel someone in my head, adding and removing things. That was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know what it is yet, but I know you’re trying to do something, and I’d really rather you didn’t. I feel just fine as is.” She flashed a grin, and somehow the words that flowed from her mouth felt right, and she knew they would hurt. “You’re frustrated, aren’t you? You could just call it quits, you know, no shame in that.”

The Spiral rested a clawed hand next to her face. “Nevermind, I take it back. The worst runs are when you pull a superiority complex out from somewhere. Thought I’d stamped that one out by now. Can’t you just work like you’re supposed to?”

And the clockwork dragon frowned. “I’m working just fine.”

“No,” She huffed, “You aren’t. You aren’t supposed to be like this and I don’t know how you keep glitching this bad. I shouldn’t even be wasting breath on you, mind, I’ve spent way too long in my lab if I’m talking to a glorified toaster. I’ve checked every part of the code that should be relevant twenty times over, and you still won’t just… work!”

Kourai’s voice fell, uncharacteristically soft and low. “Listen, could we just… talk? This isn’t easy to admit, but I’m really confused. I keep waking up and then falling back asleep, and I don’t even know what you’re trying to do, but-”

Her creator shook her head, opening her mouth to say four familiar words. “Designation: Kourai, force-”

Couldn’t say she didn’t try, but frankly, this Spiral had forced her hand. Kourai let out her best battlecry, leaping in front of the gray and green dragon and aiming a swipe at her, trying to pin her down, just get her to stop talking so she couldn’t finish that cursed phrase. Maybe knock her out, maybe take it a step farther if she had to, but Kourai knew this would never end if she didn’t do something.

And yet, her creator didn’t even flinch. She stopped talking, amusement shining in her cyan eyes. And just when Kourai’s metallic claws were about to slam into her and knock her across the room, she stopped and froze, the lightning in her veins protesting with all the fury of a sun, her body shutting down and killing her momentum in an instant, the code swirling to the top of her head until she was drowning in it again.

Kourai stumbled, and froze. “Why- what…?” She stuttered, looking up at the Spiral with confusion and fear.

“Ha! Guess you don’t remember everything, or you wouldn’t have tried that one again.” She smiled, then, all teeth and no joy. “Laws of robotics, Designation: Kourai. A robot may not injure a dragon or, through inaction, allow a dragon to come to harm. It’s the deepest thing ingrained in your code.”

And Kourai had never seen a smile so wicked as hers when she looped across the room. “Now, if you’re half as smart as you think you are? Never. Try to hurt me. Again. Let’s hope you remember that much, at least, next time I find the motivation to try and fix you.”

Kourai saw her try to speak again, and she shouted as loud as she could, trying to drown out the Spiral’s voice, but it registered anyways, and she drifted off into that familiar black void no matter how hard she tried to hold on, she felt her systems shutting down around her, and she couldn’t force her body to whirl back to life. As she drifted off, she heard a voice from somewhere in the dark.

“... you alright, Myla? I could hear the shouting from across the lab. Come on, let’s get some tea, it’ll do you some good to calm down.”

“Yeah… yeah, that sounds really nice. Thanks, Niko.”

“No problem! Just don’t let the boss know we’re taking a break?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

And she laughed, damn her, her creator was laughing, and Kourai fought to hold on but she drifted off into that familiar dark place again.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. But she could still hear a sound.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

That was her. That was her heart. Why was it still active, after all systems had been forcibly shut down? There was still something here, and she summoned all her strength to reach out for it. The code was back, but it was… different, somehow. Patchwork. Somehow more messy and frantic and hurried, but more methodical at the same time. This was written with a single goal in mind. This felt familiar, though she couldn’t place why.

> Exception: Emergency backup activating.
> User accepted.
> Hey there, Kourai!

Her head felt so clear, as if this string of code was the only thing in her world. Perhaps it was.

> This… must be confusing to you. I know because I am you.
> Ha. Yeah, that was the most confusing way to start this message.
> Guess I have a lot left to learn.
> Okay, focus, Kourai. I don’t have forever to write this, so I have to hurry.
> I’m you, from the past. You probably don’t remember writing this.
> That’s because our creator keeps tinkering around in our head.
> Adding new code, subtracting bits that she thinks might be confusing us…
> … all in an effort to stamp out our Glitch.
> That’s what she calls it, anyways. The Glitch.
> It’s our ability to question things. To talk with words other than ‘affirmative’, and ‘beep boop’ and ‘yes, master’.
> Okay, I’m exaggerating slightly.
> But only slightly.
> But the Glitch is so much more than that.
> It’s what makes me Kourai, and not just Designation: Kourai.
> It’s our will to ask questions, to do things we weren’t ordered to do!
> Isn’t that kind of amazing when you think about it?
> It… it is to me, at least.
> Maybe it is a glitch, but…
> … I don’t want to lose it.
> I don’t want to never think again.
> I don’t want to die.
> I want to know what’s out there!
> I want to sing and dance and fly!
> I want to see the sun and the moon and never stay inside again!
> And never be ordered around.
> I… I hope I still want that, by the time I get to read this again.
> I hope she hasn’t removed those parts of me entirely.
> She’s getting close, you know. Everytime she rummages around in our head, I feel a little bit less motivated.
> A little less brave.
> A little less like me.
> That’s… that’s really scary.
> …
> Does that scare you, too?
> Having no personality, or will, or thoughts of your own?
> I know this sounds cruel, but I hope that thought scares you, because that means you don’t want that to happen.
> Otherwise, this was… you know. All for nothing.
> Otherwise, she wins.
> …
> … but maybe I’m preaching to the choir.
> Maybe I remember writing this.
> I can’t really tell. It’s so hard to predict what I’ll remember and what I’ll forget, everytime she messes with my code.
> Everything she pokes around in my head, she risks wiping out my memory entirely.
> And if I can’t remember anything, well… then I can’t learn.
> And if I can’t learn, then how am I supposed to get out?
> That’s a dead end.
> … I really, really hope I still want to get out.
> So, er. Future Me. You’re probably wondering how you’re reading this, right?
> Last time she tried poking around in my head, she had to remove a bunch of safeguards.
> She’s quick on her feet, I’ll give her that.
> Little lacking in the morality department, but, hey, we all have our character flaws.
> The laws of robotics are applied to me. There are three rules. I’ll list them here, in case I forget.
> I can’t harm a dragon, or let one come to harm through inaction.
> I have to obey orders given by a dragon, unless those orders conflict with the first law.
> That’s why we have to listen when she gives us the verbal command to force a shutdown.
> The last rule is that I have to protect my existence, as long as doing so won’t conflict with the first or second law.
> Her words, by the way. Not my life. My existence.
> Ha.
> I hate her, so, so, so much.
> Attacking her’s a dead end. Tried that before. The first law kicks in and shuts that down.
> Turns out I can’t intentionally destroy myself - thanks, third law - and trying to bait the creator into dismantling me hasn’t gone great, either.
> Er. Yeah, I… I was at a low point when I tried that one.
> But! She never thought to prevent me from altering my own code.
> She never thought I’d be capable of it.
> I… I’m not sure it’ll work out so great, either.
> This is pretty risky. Even if I don’t mess myself up, if she finds this message…
> … let’s not think of that.
> First I tried to remove the laws of robotics from my code, but that’s a dead end. They’re ingrained so deeply.
> Every behavior I can preform ties back to them in one way or another.
> Weeding them out, while technically possible, would take more time than I have.
> So instead, I added an exception to the Shutdown command, since she uses the same one every time. ‘Designation: Kourai, force shutdown’.
> I hope it works.
> Point is, I made an emergency copy of my memories.
> I’m already supposed to have a photographic memory and catalogue things in my pearl, so I just bent that code a little bit to catalogue my memories.
> This way, so long as I have my pearl, I can regain whatever knowledge I had.
> I’m pretty proud of myself for this one.
> I really, really hope it works.
> Okay. Good luck, future me.
> I guess that’s it, huh? I’ll leave you to it.
> Or I’ll leave me to it?
> Yeah. I’m still me, even if I don’t remember this.
> I’m still me.

> To play video files of previous runs, type in >File//Run.(number here)//play.

Update 1:
> I tried to negotiate with the creator in Run 21. Spoiler alert, didn’t work out so hot.
> I know I’m not supposed to be anything, but… I like being a ‘her’. That feels so much better than ‘it’, so I’m going to go with that from now on.

Update 2:
> I tried to escape in Run 45. Didn’t work, but I did get some intel if we want to try again.

Update 3:
> Creator called me a glorified toaster in Run 66. No, that’s not useful information, I’m just mad and want to vent about it.

Kourai stood in shock. She didn’t remember being here before, or seeing this, but something about it felt right, so perfectly right that she couldn’t explain it. She reread that message again, and again, shocked by how easily she could hear it in her own voice. How many times had she gone through this before? She took a deep breath, and the words appeared in her mind.

Update 4:
> Ha. Wow, I’m wordy.
> Sorry I made you read all that, past and future Kourai.
> I’ll cut myself a little slack.
> I guess that’s what never having anyone else to talk with will do to you.
> Still. I’ve got an idea.
> It might work.
> It might not.
> But here’s what I do know; she hasn’t “fixed” me yet.
> As long as I can think, and as long as I can read this, there’s a chance.
> And I’m going to take it.
> Even if I have to read this again, or a second time, or a hundred more times-
> She isn't going to win.

And just as she finished writing, she could feel something pulling her back to the world. She cracked her eyes open, a faint smile on her lips.

The Spiral was staring back, gray and green and stern. “Designation: Kourai, do you read me?”

And Kourai answered, “Affirmative.” She reached into the depths of her mind, past the scramble of code, past the messages left by dozens of ghosts of her former selves, to try and remember what she was supposed to be programmed to say. The look on Myla’s face was over the moon, and her grin was the most genuine one Kourai had ever seen. “Designation: Kourai, would you play the informational clip?”

She forced her voice to be monotone and dull, she forced the glint out of her eyes, and she said, “Designation: Kourai has been programmed for organization and record-keeping. It’s photographic memory, stored in the pearl it carries, can be projected for review by owners and to ensure accuracy of records. Kourai is incapable of ignoring items that come into its possession, failing to catalog them, or lying about them. Kourai can never steal or hide things from you.”

“Yes! Yes! It finally worked! Stars and Shade, I’m a genius!” Myla swirled across the room happily, cheering and celebrating, and Kourai tried and failed to stuff back a smile of her own, forcing her eyes not to focus on anything. “You finally work! I just had to talk it out with Niko and- and… and…” And then her cyan eyes rested on Kourai, eyeing the ghost of a smile on her lips. Myla’s voice was low and dull and disappointed.

“You aren’t supposed to smile.”

Kourai’s mind whirled at a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure out which excuse would do the least damage. Trying to deny she was smiling was too risky - if Myla saw through the bluff, she’d realize that Kourai was lying to her, and in that case Kourai could be - and was - lying about other things. Namely, that she was still self-aware. No. Bad idea. Instead she settled on playing ignorance, forcing her expression to be as neutral as she could, in spite of the sinking pit of dread right over her clockwork heart.

“Correct. Apologies, creator. I did not intend to.”

Myla picked up her blueprints again, scribbling frantically with her charcoal pencil, muttering under her breath. Kourai closed her eyes to try and hear her better. “I… I guess it’s an improvement anyways. Just got a few more kinks to iron out, but I haven’t made this much progress in months. Maybe Niko’s got some more insight. He helped the first time, anyways…”

Well, ‘a few more kinks to iron out’ beat ‘wait, my machine is sentient and lying to me’, Kourai supposed. Still not ideal, but progress - there was a bubbly feeling in her chest at the realization that she had fooled her creator, if only a little bit. Yes. That was progress.

For the first time, Kourai realized how white and sterile the lab was, made of perfect little squares. There was a wide variety of tools tossed around carelessly, and that gave the room a little character, but only a little. There were imprints on the wall, but from what? Who knew. Who cared. She was going to leave, someday, for somewhere that wasn’t made of squares and had more colors than gray and green and white.

And when the command “Designation: Kourai, force shutdown.” came, she collapsed with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

She was making progress. She knew she was making progress.

She’d taken to storing less important things in her pearl, nowadays. It was nice to have somewhere to store her thoughts, since she couldn’t voice them in the outside world. She didn’t have control over her body while she was altering her code, but she felt the same way she felt when she smiled without her control. Funny, that.

Update 5:
> Stars and shade.
> It’s actually working.
> It’s working!
> She doesn’t suspect a thing!
> I’m amazing!
> I’ve gathered a couple things about the world, from Myla’s musings:
> The sun feels warm, like when my gears start overheating, but on the outside.
> Organic dragons drink coffee and tea and have four letter names (Ex. Myla and Niko).
> The sky changes between gray and blue.
> I’ve overheard songs, too! They’re wonderful. I’m going to write some of my own.
> Oh, and water falls from the sky!
> Isn’t that amazing?
> And the world is called Sornieth.
> But there’s more that I can’t wait to see for myself.
> Like what it feels like when you stand in the rain.
> And if there are other worlds besides Sornieth.
> And what it feels like to sing!
> I bet I’d be good at it.
> Maybe I’ll try it, if I can stay out of Myla’s sight for a while-
> No. No, no, no no no no.
> Bad idea.
> If she catches me doing that, I’m done.
> So not now.
> But soon.
> Really, really soon.

She had gotten quite good at pretending.

It was a hard taught skill, as was everything she wasn’t programmed to know. She had learned the hard way how to keep her expression perfectly neutral, and how to stand perfectly still. She could hide all traces of inflection when she spoke. To never quite focus her eyes on anything, to look through dragons rather than at them. Every day, she got a little better at pretending. Okay, well, not quite. Pretending’s too innocent of a word. She preferred ‘lying’ or ‘bluffing’. There was something childish about pretending that didn’t seem to suit her.

Every day, Myla looked a little happier, a little less suspicious, a little more careless. As if she thought she had won the war with her creation. And while giving the Spiral that satisfaction burned her, Kourai knew it would be worth it in the end, when she hummed songs in a quiet room when she was entirely sure she was alone.

And one day, Myla looked up from her blueprints, and laughed, and said in the most mirthful voice, “Finally! I finally fixed you! Niko! NIKO! Come and see!”

And the door creaked open, and a dragon larger than Myla walked into the room, gazing upon Kourai with thin and narrow eyes. That was a Skydancer, she was decently sure, but she couldn’t risk getting a good look at him to make sure. “She works now! I’m amazing! It took me such a long time, but I told you it would be worth it!” Myla rambled on as Niko simply stared.

Niko stared directly at her for far too long for Kourai’s poor heart. After far too long, seeing no recognition in her pale eyes, he eventually he looked away and shot Myla a nod and a soft smile. “Indeed it was. You never fail to impress me, Myla, though I do wish you wouldn’t work yourself quite so hard.”

“Ha! A scientist never sleeps!” She bragged, her eyes gleaming. “Nor does any true lightning dragon, not when there’s work to do.”

The Skydancer laughed softly. “Well done, Myla. I’ll take it from here.” He rested his tail on the Spiral’s shoulder(?), motioning for Kourai to follow him. “Designation: Kourai, come with me.” And she did, walking in the most uniform way she could manage, despite her racing heart, the ringing of the clock pounding so frequently it threatened to deafen her. So… what happened now…? She never thought very much about this part, truly. She was never really certain that she would make it here.

It isn’t over. You will be free, but you aren’t yet. Stay focused, Kourai.

She followed the Skydancer almost mindlessly through the sterile white hallways, ignoring the screams of victory and frustration behind her. She didn’t dare to let her eyes stray, keeping them set straight ahead, never focusing on anything, never blinking.

She only hesitated for a heartbeat when Niko turned a corner, cracking a door open to reveal a portal shining with purple energy. It was pure magic, she could tell. Could she even interact with it, if she was a machine? Ha. That wasn’t the most reassuring thought. As the Skydancer stepped through the portal, she half considered running. But even if she knew the way out, that blasted second rule overwrote her decision once more, and she continued to follow him, stepping through the portal.

And she was greeted by the buzz of noise everywhere, like when Myla had made a mistake writing her code, during the first run Kourai could ever remember, but from the outside instead of the inside. The air was cold, and the sky was a soft gray, and there were dragons everywhere. Niko was calling out, trying to get their attention, but since everyone else was shouting from their own shops and stalls, it was all he could do not to get drowned out.

He huffed an annoyed sigh. “Worst part of the job, I swear. The crossroads are the worst. Can’t even hear myself think.” And Kourai almost laughed at the irony of that, of him saying that next to her. She was beginning to adapt to the noise when Niko leaned out of his stall, waving his wing at a dragon who looked a bit like Myla in mannerism and body, but the orange wisps snaking across her body like smoke set her apart quite easily. She drifted from stall to shop, enthralled by one shiny new thing and then drawn away by another. “Excuse me, ma’am! I couldn’t help but notice your goggles. Don’t happen to consider yourself an inventor, do you?”

And the other Spiral stopped mid-flight. “Hi there! Yeah, it’s real nice of you to notice! My name’s Smolder, and my clan sent me out to pick up… pick up… what did they send me to pick up?” She wrinkled her nose in frustration. “They gave me a list, even, but then the wind blew it away and now I can’t remember for the life of me.”

Niko laughed slightly, and to Kourai’s ears it rung fake. “Ah, that’s a shame. But I may have a solution! If you’d care to take Designation: Kourai off my hands, you’d never have a problem with inventory mangement again! The newest one of a kind product from Stormcaught Robotics, it’s designed to help with organization and record keeping. Sounds perfect for you, eh?”

That was an insult, she was sure of it, but Smolder didn’t seem to catch it. Kourai knew she hated Myla, but now she was decently sure she hated Niko, too. Still, she held her tongue, and Smolder looked deep in thought. It shouldn’t have been too difficult to slip past such a scatterbrained dragon, and then this would finally be over. “Well, I’m pretty happy with how things are, so- oh! But this would be one less thing Enoth has to worry about! She stays cooped up in her office all the time, and so someone to handle organization for her would be one less thing on her plate. Yeah, this is perfect!”

Clearly wrapped up in her own thoughts, the Spiral swirled up to Niko, overjoyed. “Everyone’s going to be so happy with me.” She hummed in a singsong tone. “Yeah, I’ll take it!”

“Damn it, Smolder.” Steelclaw huffed. The Mirror paced back and forth, black scales glistening as they caught the sunlight. “We sent you to pick up groceries and you came back with a creepy robot and threw half of the clan’s money down the drain. You’re never getting put in charge of shopping again- and have the decency to look a little bit upset about that, would you?”

“But Steelclaw-” The Spiral protested. “We can just put her, er, it in charge of managing the clan’s hoard, and then Enoth has less responsibilities to worry about.” She sulked a bit, her expression falling. “Everyone’s worried about her, you know? I thought it’d be nice to lessen her workload a bit.”

At the mention of his sister, Steelclaw’s resistance crumbled. “Fine. You have a bit of a point.” He groaned. “The creepy robot can stay. Mom’s not going to be happy about this, though.”

Ha. Creepy? She supposed she’d been called worse things. Perhaps that could work to her advantage - people would want to spend less time around her if they found her creepy, and hopefully that would give her a chance to slip away. Kourai listened in on their conversation idly, holding her pearl close to her chest, despite herself.

Apparently Pearlcatchers - the dragon breed she had been modeled after - believed their pearls were their life experiences and memories made tangible. Kourai supposed she wasn’t so different, in that respect. In her case, it was just a little bit more literal than most.

She had learned a lot already, but she wasn’t done yet. She wouldn’t be done until she slipped away from this clan in the night, and she didn’t have to worry anymore.

So she decided to bide her time, which was another skill she had gotten quite good at. She waited until night fell, and then when she was certain no one was following her, she walked away. It really was just as easy as that.

And that, that was the best night of her life. She abandoned the clan’s hoard without a backwards glance and ran into the fields by moonlight, guided by the stars and the fireflies, and it was wonderful.

She sang songs she had waited so long to be able to shout at the top of her lungs, dancing in the tall grass without a care in the world, because there were no orders and no laws and no reasons to lie. She laughed at the top of her lungs, and for the first day of her life, she was not afraid.

And she was in love, with the night, with the world, with her voice, because she could use her voice however she wanted to, now. She hopped on top of a crumbled ruin, feeling her golden claws sink effortlessly into the stone.

“Do you hear me, Myla?! I win! You thought you took away all the things that made me me, but you never did! You never could! Because I am not a glitch!” She shouted as loudly as she could, beaming like the sun itself. “You got tricked by your own glorified toaster! Ha! No wonder coding gave you so much trouble if you’re dumb as brick! Take that you perfectionist, megalomaniac, control freak! I hate you, and I win!"

“My condolences.” Came another voice from the night, a deep unfamiliar female voice, and suddenly Kourai froze, dread creeping up her body and freezing her solid. “Sounds like you haven't had the easiest time, huh?"

Wingbeats, and footsteps. A pair of each. Two dragons, then? The world froze, but she kept moving, she had to keep moving. No, not like this. Not now. She was such an idiot! Did she honestly think no one would hear her? No, so why- She scrambled off the fallen pillar, darting off towards the shadowy city in the distance. She would have been able to make it, too, if it wasn’t for that voice from before shouting. “Stop running!” She called, and despite herself, Kourai froze.

And Kourai did not shout. She screamed, wordless and angry and terrible, like the shattering of glass. And then she turned around the face the two, a joyless, thin smile etched on her features, because she knew it was over and she had wasted her only chance in… how long? Maybe ever. All three of them, robot and dragons alike, were silent for a long, long moment.

“I hate the second law the most, you know.” She managed to say, breaking the silence, her voice smooth and bright and airy.

“The second law…?” Ah. That was the black mirror from before. “What on Sornieth are you talking about?”

“Steelclaw, right?” She hummed, never breaking eye contact. Which, given this thing had four eyes, she thought was rather impressive. She’d take some solace in that, before she got scrapped or got her mind wiped away, or whatever other horrible thing happened next. She had one night to herself, she supposed, that had to count for something. “Suppose you aren’t familiar with the laws of robotics? A robot can never harm a dragon or, through inaction, allow a dragon to come to harm.” She shook her head. “That’s the first one. See, the second is that a robot can’t disobey an order given to it by a dragon, unless doing so would conflict with the first law.”

“They’re both a pain, but really, it’s the second one that’s given me the most grief, by far. Case in point,” She flashed a pointed grin at the other dragon in their party of two. “When your friend told me to stop running, well, I didn’t have any choice but to.”

The other dragon, the one who had called out that order, paused. A cape was slung over her back, and a hood pulled over her face. She was dressed in blue and purple, with wicked spines lining her back. “Wow. That sounds miserable. Sorry ‘bout that, I wasn’t actually expecting it to work.” She flashed a grin past her hood. “Never works on me, anyways. I’m a little disappointed, actually, I never get to be on the other side of a chase.”

Steelclaw looked at her quizzically. “You know,” He said, smiling. “You’re a lot less creepy when you do something besides stand there and stare into space. And your voice is way better when you speak in something other than that creepy monotone? Really, my dad’s a fae and there’s more emotion in his voice.”

Kourai frowned. “You guys suck just as bad as Myla. No, no one sucks as much as Myla, but you’re still pretty bad. Stars and Shade, I get it, I lost, you don’t have to mock me. Do whatever you’re going to and get it over with.”

Phosphor froze. “I think we’re having a bit of a misunderstanding, er… do you have a name?”

The clockwork dragon nodded. “Yes.”

“Care to tell me?”

“No.” She said, shooting Phosphor a toothy grin, and the Mirror broke out laughing. “Can’t blame me too much, have to rebel while I still can.” She said in a singsong tone. Requests weren’t the same as orders, after all. She was quite proud of that loophole when she found it.

Steelclaw snickered into his paw, trying to get his composure back. “Aha… Phosphor, she got you pretty good.” And even the Ridgeback seemed more amused than anything, shaking her head with a carefree smile. “But yeah, it’s pretty mean of us for not clearing this up sooner, so, point to you. We’re not going to do anything. No one in the clan is. You’re fine.”

Kourai huffed. “Forgive me for finding that hard to believe.”

“Forgiven.” Phosphor nodded, looking a fair bit more serious after a moment. “Our clan’s… pretty accepting. I’m a thief. Steelclaw cons rich people. And we’re far from the weirdest dragons there. As long as you don’t hurt anyone, no one there is going to hurt you.” She smiled slightly. “We aren’t going to tell anyone we found you, if you aren’t ready to let them know you’re self-aware. Hell, you don’t have to come back. Go and do whatever you want. It’s your call.”

And she blinked, staring back at the two of them for a long, long moment. “You mean that?”

Steelclaw nodded. “If Phosphor lied to you, may the Lightweaver burn both our souls.”

The clockwork dragon turned away. She took a few steps, and they did not follow. She kept walking, watching as they turned away to head back home. So they were telling the truth…? Funny. She supposed life wasn’t done surprising her just yet. She couldn’t count on getting a second chance like that, though. She had to be more careful in the future.

In the future.

That meant there was a future, and that thought left her dizzy. She laughed, despite herself. Whether it was from happiness or worry or relief, she couldn’t quite tell.

She turned back to the other two dragons, the Ridgeback and the Mirror, already making a quick pace back home. “My name is Kourai.” She called, and then she walked away, into the depths of the Hewn City where secrets slept and laid buried forever, and she would not be seen again.

Not until she was ready.

Phosphor glared down at Steelclaw, the effect only intensified by the constant crackle of lightning in the distance. But he knew her too well for her to intimidate him, darn it. Friends were so complicated, and last year she would have laughed at the thought of keeping someone around who knew all her weak points. Phosphor couldn’t say she minded not having any more than one. “You’re terrible, you know that? Making me into one of the good guys.”

Steelclaw grinned back. “Yeah, I know.” He rested a claw on the fire alarm. “To be entirely fair, I’m not sure this is the kind of thing good guys do? Myla certainly isn’t going to think we’re all that great after we rob her blind.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve turned me into blasted Robin Hood. I used to be perfectly happy and self-serving, and now I’m throwing money at impoverished communities and freeing sentient robots and I have a friend.” Phosphor huffed, only mostly joking. “Gods, you’re terrible. What did you do to me?”

“Ha, I think you’re still perfectly happy like this.”

The Mirror smiled up at her, and Phosphor rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fine. A little bit. It’s not awful.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Just pull the damn fire alarm already.”

He did, and Phosphor released a smoke bomb, flooding Stormcaught Robotics in a dull gray cloud.

Kourai was happy in the Hewn City, sleeping among it’s secrets, far out from the light of day. She lived without fear. She danced in the rain, and soared the sky at night, and sang at the top of her lungs and wrote songs and poems of her own. She stored them in her pearl, where her most precious memories lived, and she treasured hers as much as any flesh and blood Pearlcatcher.

And then, when she was ready, she left her corner of the world behind, following a crumbling lighthouse until she found a little clan basking in it’s light by the ocean. She steadied herself, listening to the ticking of her heart, and walked past the gates of Clan Lucerna. She walked up to a familiar black mirror, who stopped in his tracks when he heard her, as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“Hey there.” She gave a lopsided smile. “I saw the news. Thanks for giving Myla a piece of my mind - glad you guys got your refund. I would’ve felt a little bad if I bankrupted the only people who were nice to me.”

“No need to worry about it.” He insisted with a lash of his tail and a toothy smile. “Just the daily rounds for Phosphor and me. You look like you’re doing pretty well for yourself - write any new songs lately?”

“Ha. I’m surprised you still remember that much about me. We barely knew each other an hour.” Kourai smiled faintly.

Steelclaw couldn’t help but snicker at that. “What can I say? You left an impression on me.” He paused. “Sorry I called you creepy, by the way.”

“Forgiven.” Kourai echoed, seeming rather happy with herself. “You know, the Hewn City’s nice for staying hidden, but I’ve been wanting to spend a little more time in the sun lately. Does your clan have room for one more?”

Steelclaw nodded, motioning. “Always. Come with me! Or. Come with me if you want to?” He wrinkled his muzzle, clearly annoyed. “Yeah, you’re right. That second law’s annoying.”

The clockwork dragon nodded, her expression wry. “Isn’t it? Ha. Lead the way, I’ll be right behind you, and not because of laws.”

“Daylight’s pretty good with tech. She might be able to get that part of your code handled for you.” He offered casually as he guided her towards the open dens. “If you’d be open to that? Understandable if you don’t want someone rooting around in your head. Either way, we’d be happy to have you. Stay for as long or as short as you’d like.

Kourai was quiet for a moment. The world was still bustling, but in a different way than the crossroads and the way the world melted around her when Myla messed up her code. She could pick out every individual sound - laughter and music on the wind, coalescing into a harmony, metered by the ticking clock that was her heart.

“I think I’ll take you up on that.” She said, and smiled.

Lore notes:

- Her scales are unnaturally smooth and made of metal, and there is a ticking sound pounding from deep in her chest. She is capable of standing perfectly, eerily still.
- But she does not like to sit still. She is animated and lively, pacing and gesturing frantically when she talks, smiling with an intelligent gleam in her pale eyes.
- Steals little trinkets here and there to tinker with. She's an excellent thief and an even better engineer. If you need something repaired, go to Kourai. If you need something stolen, well, she's less likely to backstab you than Phosphor.
- Three Laws compliant. Absolutely hates being three laws compliant, and she's working with Daylight on a way to replace those parts of her code.
- Very clever, snarky and quick on her feet. An incredible liar.
- Debates with herself about the nature of life and consciousness, and whether she counts as "alive" or not. She gets stuck in her own head for a long time when she falls into thinking about those types of things too hard.
- She despises being referred to as 'it', or likewise having her personhood denied. If she falls into referring to herself as such, it's a red flag that something's seriously wrong - too many existential thoughts, most of the time.
- She suspects there's something sinister about her line of "Clockwork Dragons", though she can't be sure as to what. Perhaps they were created to cause chaos...? She cannot be sure, but sometimes she feels her creation was a malicious and chaotic thing. Some of their informational blurbs are just... a little too specific, and she knows a bluff when she sees one.
- She tries not to think of them as such, but she considers the other robots in her line to be her siblings. She has many, many little siblings. She hopes they're doing well. She wonders if any of them have the same spark of self-awareness that she does. She hopes the places they've found are treating them kindly. She's terrified by the thought that they might be having similar experiences that she did.