Coop had formed a limited, clumsy understanding of how to interact with the Ark, but that was all it took to get them started on their quest to take control. When they set off on the highway built from hexagons, he was raring to go. A smidgen of progress was enough to trigger his competitive instincts and have him hyped to take action.

Once they found the command center, ship core, or whatever it was that Lyriel believed would grant the highest level of access, they would put a stop to the Eradication Protocol. At least, that was the plan. It seemed easy enough if he ignored countless little details that would naturally complicate his experience.

The first problem appeared quickly. Instead of a simple stroll to the next checkpoint, Coop had established what ended up feeling like an unending bridge to nowhere. The path of connected hexagonal tiles stretched to an unreasonable length, matching the scale of the gargantuan vessel. The smidgen of progress in building the road put them on a treadmill-like trap that stole his momentum.

The journey gradually sapped his enthusiasm, draining his eagerness while failing to match the urgency of the second apocalypse. Constructing the path established the first bit of progress, but it failed to establish further discovery, letting the initial spark of development fizzle into disappointment. For all of his trial and error, it didn’t feel like they were any closer to taking control of the ship at all.

The Ark was obviously not meant to be to be traversed on foot. Literally every hexagonal surface was designed to be an independent mobile platform, but Coop had only managed to produce a single-width road. The linear highway formed by a perfect alignment of adjacent platforms truly illustrated his extensive inadequacy. The slow realization weighed upon his psyche, making him wish he was someone that could have quickly grasped the nature of the vessel instead of fumbling his shot.

As they went, he scanned the disconnected hexagonal compartments that formed enormous shapes that curled over the road, never quite touching. They branched into jagged mazes that wrapped around the path before expanding beyond vision, always adhering to the hexagonal shapes as a base.

Thousand mile skyscrapers that were sometimes only a single compartment thick and other times a hundred compartments wide climbed past the highway while thick overpasses loomed over their journey. Other aggregations formed blocky clouds that floated in the sterile sky, building strange gray islands and entirely new frontiers.

Altogether, the compartments presented a strange alien landscape built from a single geometric shape. It was an entirely hexagonal world.

None of the formations seemed individually significant, but Coop couldn’t help but feel worried that any one of them might hold a single compartment with important information hidden inside. He could spend many lifetimes checking individual rooms, making sure that he didn’t miss anything in particular, but it would be like collecting the old world’s entire catalogue of microfiche and checking them without an index. It would be horribly inefficient and time consuming. The better method would involve successfully navigating the alien programs while utilizing his access, but he simply couldn’t accomplish much without spending significantly more time inefficiently studying alien patterns.

Lyriel didn’t complain even once, apparently comfortable spending as long as it took within the Ark, but Coop was growing more and more impatient to get back to Ghost Reef. Decoding timeless secrets was beyond his qualifications. His area of expertise was obvious. It involved his spear and a healthy supply of simple enemies. Not xenoarchaeology.

After spending hours without visibly closing the distance, he was ready to mistjump the rest of the way, regardless of the consequences. It might actually be easier to deal with any potential security systems than continue to physically cross the expansive ship. Whether or not his skills were adequate was up in the air, but remembering that the Eradication Protocol was active was like having an itch that he couldn’t reach. He was desperate to do something more productive than hiking along an alien track while admiring the anomalous formations.

Lyriel convinced him to ease up as he grew more and more tense. They could stop and he could continue to experiment with controlling the ship if he wanted, but the fact was that they were making progress. Compared to the thousands of years that she had repeatedly failed to meaningfully contribute to her goals, a stroll across an elevated highway was a feast of development. From that perspective, every tangible step was actually an enormous leap forward.

Coop forced himself to look at things from her point of view and accept the gains they could easily make. If there was anyone that understood incremental progress it was someone who was willing to grind billions of enemies just to reach the next level, skill threshold, or Slayer title.

Still, he hurried her along while physically carrying Palisteon. There was no good reason to actively delay their forward progress. If it was there for the taking, he didn’t think they should hesitate.

Whenever they paused to regroup, he mentally probed the ship, trying to find a way to make the compartments carry them the rest of the way. He stopped when parts of their highway shifted away, disappearing into the enormous space below, forcing them to leap across the gaps. If he wasn’t careful, his experimentation could wind up being detrimental.

When they finally approached the end of the road, the last hexagonal compartment was raised compared to all of the others on the path. It was positioned like an absurd single car garage at the end of a ridiculously long driveway. Its floor was flush with the long path of tiles and its roof was directly attached to the tube of mana. Its forward wall was open as if they were meant to enter.

Coop had specifically called for the destination at the start and apparently this was the result. He was disappointed.

Coop stared at the single open compartment as they approached, his frown digging deeper into his face. It felt like he was being presented with even more proof of his deficiencies. With a nearly infinite supply of interchangeable building blocks, his brain only managed to establish an uninspiring highway with the most dismissive conclusion possible. When he tried to improve it in any way, it started to fall apart.

He took some minor solace in that the bridge had led to anything at all. He supposed it could have just terminated without any particular landmarks. At least there was one compartment waiting for them.

He grunted at himself as he gauged its stability. Since the entire highway lacked any supports, it really looked like the compartments would fall at any moment. Such peculiarities were basically par for the course when it came to living with mana, so it barely phased them.

He looked up at the much larger structure that ran perpendicular to the highway: the tube of mana. The glass-like container that housed the energy was not as smooth as it had appeared from a vast distance, but it was also much larger than anticipated. It had to be, to be seen at all.

The outer shell was covered in flat surfaces that perfectly matched the uniform hexagonal platforms. Only the single compartment was currently touching, making it look like an absurdly tiny valve connected to a massive transparent pipe. He couldn’t help but wonder what other arrangements that he failed to envision would be accommodated by the ship, given all of the barely visible indentations elsewhere on the tube

There was still a vast gulf between the edge and the thick stream of mana. It was a long wispy river of silvery grays, with barely a hint of every other color of the spectrum coalescing at random points. Tiny pops of shifting rainbow subtly appeared at the ends of curls of energy that drifted beyond the main course, dissipating as soon as Coop recognized a whisper of pink, green, or purple. The cold gradient of neutral colorless light was far more dominant and clearly established the tone for the rest of the ship.

He stopped in front of the open compartment after finally reaching the end, unsure of actually entering. Lyriel stopped because he stopped, glancing from the compartment back to him.

“What is it?” She wondered, apparently assuming that he knew something she didn’t.

Coop couldn’t really articulate his misgivings, but like when they first entered the vessel, he just didn’t find the environment welcoming. He simply couldn’t trust the explanations that this ship was meant to be the kind of bastion of safety that he and his companions had worked so hard to make Ghost Reef.

He was confident that every time someone entered the territory of his island settlement, they immediately recognized that it was a refuge. It had happened time and time again with visitors getting the impression of safety without having to be told anything at all. There was something about the atmosphere that reflected the intentions of its contributors.

The Ark just didn’t have that vibe. It was bleak for reasons that went beyond the lighting and materials and temperature. Maybe it was because there didn’t seem to be any life present, or that it had been empty for untold eons. It was sterile, lacking even a speck of dust when it should have been an ancient ruin. It lacked the character established by a personal touch, the memories created by a lived history.

Perhaps he was expecting too much when it came to relating to the truly alien. He had tried to give it the benefit of the doubt, considering Lyriel’s insistence and its completely unfamiliar nature, but it seemed like he had reservations that couldn’t be dispelled. He grunted as he acknowledged his misgivings, unable to shake them off.

“I don’t trust it.” He gestured toward the compartment when he responded, reducing his gut feeling to the worry immediately before him. “What if it seals us inside?”

Lyriel sighed, finally growing tired of endlessly reassuring him. “No matter what happens, you have the key.”

Coop shook his head like that wouldn’t work on him this time. “You don’t actually know anything about this place.” He pointed out, the statement less of an accusation and more of a sad acceptance. “We’ve wandered into the unknown.”

That her conclusions had been correct so many times didn’t change the fact that they were relying on what amounted to guesses, assumptions, and rumors. He wasn’t blaming her for it. It was just how it was.

Lyriel huffed, uncomfortable with addressing the limits of her confidence. “I know as much as anyone in existence.” She professed with exaggerated certainty.

“But how?” Coop turned to face her, giving her a chance to confront her beliefs. “It’s not like you’ve been able to research these things. How do you know anything?”

“The information has been passed down from the original Exiles since long before the system touched my own planet. We all know about the Ark and its relevance to controlling mana. It is the cornerstone of our very existence.” She insisted. “It is reliable. It is. It has to be.”

“You would think someone would have at least approached an Ark before us.” Coop observed, pointing out the dubiousness of such a confluence of fate and fortune that would lead Lyriel to be the first to ever make it this far.

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Lyriel was undeterred. “It is the nature of the titanic forces at play. We only become Exiles after the judgment of mana has been dispensed, but the Ark only awakens while the judgment is being enacted, during the Eradication Protocol.” She made a face like it was essentially impossible to expect more. “Would you have weathered the Underlayer on your own?” She asked rhetorically.

Coop shook his head anyway. Obviously it would be a death sentence to wander into such a torrent of energy without the guidance she provided, but even if it wasn’t, the more obvious threat was the monsters on the surface. He would have stayed outside to fight under just about any other circumstances.

“Exactly.” Taking his gesture as the response she was looking for. “By the time our place in the universe is exposed, it is too late, the Arks all lie dormant, and we are condemned. That is the tragedy of our position. Deliverance has always been so close, yet it was impossible to attain, just out of reach.” She continued.

“Until you came along.” Coop observed with a touch of cynicism.

Lyriel clicked her tongue at his contention. “Don’t forget that it wasn’t my actions that opened a window into your assimilation. It wasn’t my achievements that were acknowledged by the system before integration was resolved. That was all you.”

“Not me.” Coop refuted. “Ghost Reef.”

“Yes, well, I am also not the only Exile.” She pointed out.

“Where are the other Exiles in this?” Coop asked, wondering just how much of an independent agent his Avatar of the System actually was.

“Most satisfy themselves with a meager existence reaching out to others in the hope that someone else will do what is necessary.” Lyriel admitted. “But all recognize the potential stowed away within the Ark.”

Coop raised an eyebrow at Palisteon to get his take. He received a chirp clearly meant to confirm Lyriel’s assessment, though it was rather unenthusiastic. Perhaps Palisteon was a part of the group satisfied with carving their own lives outside of the community.

Still, her companion did not contradict her position. It wasn’t her personal belief that the Ark was there for the Exiles, but a dogma that extended throughout the outsiders to the galactic community. He suspected that there just weren’t that many Exiles left in the first place.

“And what is necessary?” Coop sought to have her repeat herself, as if he needed to confirm she could keep her story straight, especially when it came to where her position differed from others.

“This.” Lyriel spoke, extending her hands to present the massive tube of mana flowing slowly across the center of the ship. “For the first time in my existence, we have a chance to retaliate against the evil of mana.” She expressed with building excitement. “The system has provided us with a path to take control. We can use the Ark’s connection with mana to redirect its energy, cancelling the curse that has infected all life, whether banished or not. It can free us all so that future generations will never even know of the fetters we destroyed.”

She reached for Coop’s hand, raising it and to reveal the ring that she had given him. He stared at it while she continued.

“Rather than a simple key to a door, think of this as a key to the whole universe. We can fulfill the yearning that exists in every soul, the yearning to be free. No one else has ever been able to seize this opportunity, but we can.” She promised. “We must.”

Coop hummed, refusing to be swept up in her zeal. “I just want to make sure my friends are safe.” He clarified, switching his focus to her instead.

“Of course.” Lyriel agreed, releasing his hand and turning toward the open compartment, though her blindfold prevented any eye contact anyway. “I want them to be saved as well.” She confirmed.

They had already rehashed the conversation several times over the course of their relationship, long before the Eradication Protocol even began. The problem was that they had to break completely new ground in order to confirm or deny any of the inferences made.

The Arks were only active when the Eradication Protocol was enacted, and that was only possible during an ongoing assimilation, hidden behind the planetary shield, normally out of reach. All the rest lay completely dormant on the various planets integrated by the galactic community. A return by any of the Exiles would simply be an invitation for the Icons to finish what they started, sparking a new apocalypse wherever they went.

This forced the Exiles to rely on agents who were already doomed, like Coop, to try and enact any plans. As a result, they merely existed, making virtually no progress despite the unstoppable passage of time. At best, they picked up a handful of survivors here and there when the stars aligned to continue their endeavor and expand their recruitment efforts.

Thanks to the efforts of Ghost Reef, Lyriel was one of one in the entire universe, having personally taken the next step to reach an Ark while it was awakened. She had become the chosen one. Coop wasn’t sure exactly what that made him, but when he glanced at where the impression of the ring lingered on his finger, he hoped he was more of the trusty companion rather than a cautionary figure.

That the mountains of mana they had decided were Arks were only interactive during a limited, emergency period, simply added to the legend. Where most Exiles simply survived, some thought the Arks might be more like lifepods for the victims of mana, leading to paradise. Others, like Lyriel, took it a step further, believing that the Arks contained a more active solution to their predicament. Afterall, if something like mana could be activated, it stood to reason that it could be deactivated.

Unfortunately, if anyone uncovered the truth of the matter, they were never able to expose it to the rest of the Exiles. Coop sighed, realizing that he had been searching for something in the Ark that even Lyriel didn’t expect to find. The ship, or whatever it was, was simply a means to an end. The fact that it didn’t feel like a sanctuary made no difference. If a sanctuary was what he wanted, he would have to make it himself. That was the entire point of his efforts toward establishing Ghost Reef in the first place.

Somehow, the information disseminated by the Exiles and shared by Lyriel constantly seemed a bit too accurate to be completely rejected. Coop had no idea how a group that had never made any real progress could have known even the most basic of information regarding the ship and the mechanisms of mana at play. And yet, there he was, with an all-access pass to an alien vessel. There had to be some foundation of truth to their whole performance.

In the end, he approached the open compartment, unable to quell his doubts. There was no real difference to being stuck inside the entirety of the ship and stuck within an individual compartment as it pertained to his island. He shook his head at himself as he stepped forward. Lyriel and Palisteon followed him inside, and naturally, once they were situated, nothing happened. All of his inner turmoil was for naught.

However, as Coop revealed another physical mural, the topics they had discussed influenced his thoughts. The mystery of the ship’s purpose was at the forefront of his mind when he went through the motions of interacting with the alien shapes. He inadvertently prompted the ship to give him its own answers when he repeated the patterns that had allowed him to build a bridge to the center.

The compartment abruptly sealed itself, drawing a concerned yelp from Coop as his fears of being trapped came rushing back. Then, gravity turned, rotating so that they had to shuffle to the side. Such unnatural shifts were jarring, especially when they came without warning.

When the motion completed, both of the hexagonal hatches became open windows. One revealed the slow cascade of mana in the center of the ship, closer than ever. The flow was moving vertically and Coop guessed that his orientation matched what it would have been outside. Thankfully, it seemed like up was up and down was down again. The return to normalcy didn’t actually prevent the feeling of vertigo after the world appeared to rotate, but he still preferred to keep things consistent.

Now that he was up close to the central feature, Coop noted that the transparent tube that imitated glass was actually the same material as the membrane that separated the Underlayer from the Ark. It seemed to have different levels of permeability, the one containing the mana flow being completely solid when he tapped his knuckles against its surface.

Before his curiosity demanded that he test it any further, he felt pressure being applied to his ears. The echoes of motion drew his attention away from the calm mana current so that he was gazing back out the exterior portal.

The rest of the cells were reorganizing again, already halfway through the process of transforming the space into a completely new pattern by the time the windows had opened. Coop watched for a moment, unsure of what the end result would be as their highway broke apart, individual pieces claimed by larger assortments, disappearing into whirls of hexagons.

He inched away from the outer edge as several cells joined the one they occupied without any deceleration before coming to a dead stop. They silently interlocked to form a larger structure that encompassed the outside of the membrane surface, sealing off the tube of mana from the rest of the ship with a larger exterior structure.

A hub was being created where they stood, growing multiple cells wide, with walls retracting as they connected. Jutting extensions formed paths that looked similar to the spokes on a bicycle tire, reaching out, toward an independent hexagonal ring that was only a single cell thick. The connections didn’t quite reach in their default orientation, but openings in the narrow wall revealed more rings of hexagonal compartments in the distance, each with matching landings that could receive a bridge.

The central structure climbed up and down the membrane that segregated the free flowing mana from the rest of the vessel, creating a massive snaking tower of hexagonal cells that spiraled up and down the exterior of the tube. They were inside just one of millions of cells that stretched into the distance until they were impossible to discern. The compartments that connected to the tube interlocked with each other, forming a massive pathway that appeared to run the entire height of the Ark.

Other compartments built what could have been individual rooms in between larger open platforms, each with equally spacious open balconies that viewed the independent rings encircling the center. The balconies were uniform in shape, as if designed to be interchangeably compatible with the partial bridges, looking more like mirrored landings with their lack of railings and similarity to the docks all over the separated rings.

Meanwhile, the series of enormous rings extended beyond his vision. Countless compartments were being stacked into massive walls, all kept isolated from the central tower by the negative space. None of the bridges were quite connected, but the whole arrangement was clearly planned so that every single compartment was accessible from the center, as long as someone with access to the ship connected a bridge and properly rotated the rings to line up gaps leading to their desired destination.

Once the movement finally stopped and the ship revealed another design for Coop, he found himself confused. The cityscape had seemed alien and random, but this was far more comprehensively organized.

A moment later, after the last of the pieces were in place, the compartments in the rings all opened simultaneously. The single unified motion rang across the entirety of the massive vessel. The distance made the sounds coming from the more remote rings seem like echoes of the first, but Coop instantly recognized the precision that had been demonstrated, finding it uncanny.

Coop followed Lyriel out onto the nearest landing and they both stretched their necks to observe the new arrangement. Lyriel gasped as they were both exposed to a completely new perspective of the so-called Ark. Coop just shook his head, scowling at the compartments, even if he had been harboring doubts the whole time.

Rather than empty cells, each compartment was filled with a deep red, almost black jelly that Coop immediately associated with raw dark honey due to the combination of shape and color. However, within the substance were dimly glowing pods, each pulsating with its own illumination. If the substrate could have been an appealing honey, the seed-like shapes ruined the effect, seeming like oversized insect eggs that were being individually incubated inside the compartments. The thought made him shudder. He wished he had imagined they were fruits soaking instead, but it was too late, the image was ruined.

Thankfully, none of them spilled out, apparently sealed by a transparent barrier he imagined was similar to the invisible membranes already used elsewhere in the ship. The cells were sealed tight.

Looking at the broader scene, Coop guessed they were inside a central guard tower that watched over countless exposed bays. The scale defied reason, so many cabins were revealed. It was a lot like certain prison designs that completely eliminated privacy, but constructed with such gratuity it became something alien once again.

The innermost circle, nearest to their position, contained several sections that held golden-yellow jelly instead of the standard dark red that matched the majority. There were easily already a few hundred million cells forming the splashes of alternative color, and they were rapidly expanding right before their eyes, with the section nearest to them growing the largest.

As they watched the section in front of them, the colors of many of the cells flipped from one or the other, blurring pigments together until settling, almost like food coloring dispersing into a pitcher of water. On the edges, they transformed from red to yellow in a systematic fashion, as if it was a wave that would eventually consume the entire collection of compartments, but on the interior, random individual cells swapped colors in the opposite direction at unpredictable intervals. However, the ones that went back to red were only temporary, with the yellow constantly returning as if insisting on its presence.

It seemed like the yellow sections would grow, no matter what, but it was experiencing some kind of resistance. At the moment, only a single digit percentage of the first ring had switched colors. Coop couldn’t even begin to estimate the number of rings, let alone the sheer quantity of individual compartments in the overall design.