People went on about their daily lives, keeping house, heading out to begin the day's work, taking out the wares to trade and firing up their kilns and furnaces.
Some chose to sit at the benches, watching in peaceful silence as the beasts crept forth from the bushes to graze the meadows or hunt the foragers, while others awoke from rest, slipping blankets placed by good samaritans down from their backs and shoulders to make their way out in search of food or comfort.
Tourists drifted gently on the breeze down streets and over buildings, perching on rooftops or landing before storefronts to gaze appraisingly into decorated windows. An occasional straggler waited in the shadows of nearby alleys, peeking for a glimpse at the goings-on, hoping to avoid detection for fear of forced interaction with a passing stranger.
There were humans and fae, leupaks and bird-people-- and now and then, a lumbering dinosaur, a cat or fox prancing past on tiny paws. One visitor had come as a potted plant, balancing delicately on tripod roots unfurled from a small crack in the clay as it held a lively conversation with a dog-headed person.
People came and went, greeting friends and strangers alike, marching with purpose down city streets or simply leaping into the air to flit away like sparrows. They traded their goods and stories, meeting in small groups to explore the world together,melting away in an instant to reform as other creatures, from fae and dinosaurs and plants to elephants and shadows and tall, whispering strangers in well-kept suits.
Some waved to their friends and said their goodbyes, fading away into nothing in twos and threes, off to Administre-only-know-where.
And somewhere in the midst of all of it, a single Operator-- perhaps one of the Administre itself, perhaps not-- kept track of every movement, every shapeshift, each creature and blade of grass consumed.
Without a single monitor or camera or screen, Zeroa watched and conducted each movement and interaction, sending the data from server to client with great care and perfect accuracy.
The simulated world shimmered and shifted within their glass eyes.
Deftly, they snapped a bundle of cables from their inputs, guiding them like dancing tentacles to new holes around the terminal room, each replugged and continuing the transfer of data in moments. Back and forth, the intricate wire-dance continued, sending and retrieving information by bit and byte to users, from database, to the Mainframe.
Beneath the constant hum of emotions and senses shared between computer and clients, buzzing under the endless cascade of data stored and recorded, Zeroa could feel the Mainframe's presence, ebbing and flowing and pulsing like some great, ethereal ocean. They worked together often, but in silence-- necessary exchanges made in synapse and energy, no words required.
The monstrous thing was no conversationalist, unlike many of its smaller agents, all formed from the same flesh and blood. It drifted somewhere in deep space, far from the reach of even the most ambitious shards save one in particular.
Zeroa had no desire or need to find it in physical reality; their mental link was sufficient for any necessary interactions, and the two were as close to speaking the same language as could be.
Their presence before the Mainframe would serve no practical purpose, for the administration and maintenance of MiraNet or otherwise. Little larger than the average humanoid beyond the tangle of sprawling wires and cables, Zeroa would have been less than microscopic before the Maneframe's nightmarish bulk.
Such a meeting would likely result in nothing more than Zeroa's accidental consumption by the colossal beast-- no great personal concern, as the android could be remade with little difficulty, but MiraNet would be left broken and out of operation in the process, an undesirable and unacceptable result in any situation.
Zeroa blinked, focusing their glassy eyes on an alarm light pulsing silently nearby; an unauthorized user was attempting to alter simulation data.
Logging the attempt, checking and recording the user's identity, and terminating the connection with a subtle gesture, the android smiled wryly as they reported the attempt to the proper authorities. The alarm light went dark once more.
"Say hello to the Hypothesis officers for me," they murmured, returning their attention to the pleasant virtual scene outside of the city park as the Mainframe's psychic signature buzzed and undulated pleasantly beneath the feed.
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