One cycle, a minor scuffle, a cute little surprise party, a life-changing religious encounter, and many, many bags of chips later, Jinyi was back. Or more accurately, he came back to the tunnels and the chip factory pretty much every day, but he was back to this particular matter—that was, TRANSCENDING. Anyway, Jinyi was BACK, and he was READY. Hopefully. As ready as he'd ever be, at any rate, and besides he always felt ready for literally anything ever since literal Dontacael had looked at him and said his name and wished him good luck. Yeahhhhhh. Nothing was getting him down after that.

I'm ready to transcend, Mother, he thought one fine snowy morning. This fine snowy morning. If the method you thought of to access it is also ready—?

MOTHER

Transcendence

She rather wished she'd finished earlier. She'd been working as fast as she could; one might have used the excuse that she was distracted by ongoing events, but the truth was that some things could not be rushed.

Growth was one of those.

But it would have been nice for Dontacael to see that she'd acknowledged the value of this Drone well in advance. Though, in her own way, of course she had. Not every Hive member ran a factory, after all.

"I believe we are ready. This way, Drone Zero Zero Four Manager." And rather than depersonalizing, it sounded like a compliment, a recognition of his rank.

Along with the message came a series of images, thoughts: the route to take, winding through narrow ice-chip tunnels and down into the core of the Hive. It was not far at all from the ever-churning Ordered 'spire,' if one could call a clump of marching Clearstone bricks a 'spire.' And something new awaited Jinyi there.

Mother waited, too: at a distance, but observing, eager and... a little nervous. She had yet to test out this new creation. This new concept. Would it perform as she expected? And if it did--what magic would transcendence bring? Even she was not completely sure.

@Jinyi

The formal form of address was met with bubbling warm appreciation and enthusiasm. Jinyi made his way down the ice tunnels, as instructed. The form of his motion being happy little skips had not been instructed, but he just wanted to :)

He, too, was eager to see this something new. Not just for the utility it offered, but if it was something alive, as he thought? Jinyi was always happy to see new members of the Hive come into being :)

Jinyi at length reached a room. This was, as Mother informed him through vague and conceptual thought, The Testing Room.

None of the Hive had seen Emuh's room, and so she'd had to sort of... guess. As such, there were concessions to utility, and a number of differences Mother simply wasn't aware of. The room did not, for example, shift and alter itself upon Jinyi's arrival: that was Emuh's magic alone. Instead, it had been prepared in advance specifically to cater to Jinyi's capabilities. Likewise, the sheer concentration of pure Ordered power here was intense, to the point it'd have been smothering to a creature of any other form of radiation. Even a being of Chaos would have found it stifling.

Lastly, the owl itself. She'd... created one. It was capable of Ordered magic, and Ordered only. It was not truly sapient, or didn't seem to be; it had an aloof, empty expression, the sort that one might imagine an angelic being of some sort to have: something Other, something not quite right. It was also rather... boring. It was as though Mother went to very basic "holy"-esque design in some attempt to appear morally superior here; the end result of many of her personal touches on various Drones was often contrived rather than unique, with a multitude of eyes, white-feathered wings, and so on. It was doubly obvious here: the owl was simply... white, with a golden metallic sheen to many of its feathers, and golden metallic claws and tiny two-tined antlers. The eyes glowed yellow-gold, with brighter pupils, and that was... it.

Still, she'd managed. And all for Jinyi. "Go in, Jinyi," for if Dontacael had addressed him by name then so would she, at times--"and pass this test."

The test, to be administered by The Administrator (no name had been given, and its mind--if any--was conspicuously absent from the Hive), would begin now.

---

Jinyi faced a long, brightly lit room. Its floor existed far below, in what would be a deadly fall, but a narrow bridge, arched to its highest point at the room's center, crossed it. The bridge and the stone of the entire room was brilliant, snowy white, sparkling crystalline the way snow would when lit by midday sun. White candles were fitted into dozens of alcoves along the walls at just above the bridge's height, and the gap between wall and bridge was some ten feet.

The end of the bridge ended in a strange tableau: a scene with what appeared to be a snarling Valkhound in hues of black and purple, poised to strike a Cleaner. The Valkhound... didn't seem to be real; it was a sculpture or creation of some kind, unmoving, unbreathing. The Cleaner, theatrically stuck in a cowering pose, was real, and alive.

The Administrator took wing, flying over the bridge. In the angelic, false owl's wake, the bridge crumbled and fell away, leaving Jinyi no way to cross to the scene ahead. And the owl landed before the Cleaner, struck out with golden talons, and tore part of its carapace away. It then turned back to Jinyi, leaving the Cleaner spilling glassy webbing like blood, choking, its pain and distress suddenly flooding the Hive's link.

And Jinyi was Hive. Others were allowed to watch, to suggest, to comment; the strength of one was the strength of many, after all. Perhaps some might have suggestions.

And perhaps Jinyi could find a way to the far end of the room and save the Cleaner before it died.

"You may begin," Mother informed him primly. "Be sure to stop that beast's attack."

@Jinyi

The first Order Transcendence Trial has begun. All Hive are allowed to remotely view and comment on proceedings via the Hivemind link.

Jinyi had a moment to admire the Administrator's form before his trial began. Its metallic feathers lent it an ethereal golden glow, and its pupilless golden eyes suggested an aura of holy, impartial judgment. The concentration of Ordered magic felt electrifying—so this must be what the neutral Gembound felt in Polaris, where their radiation was so intense. The concentration of magic was gratifying to experience in a way that didn't make Jinyi's chitin crawl for once.

He entered the room and locked in onto the scene, quickly making assessments. The bridge crumbled away as the owl flew over it, and Jinyi immediately thought of a relevant spell he could use to remake it—but new urgency overtook him as the Administrator ripped a gaping wound into the Cleaner's carapace. Jinyi gasped as its pain and distress hit him through the link like a physical blow. He had to get to it fast, and though Ordered magic was his forte there was a way to reach the wounded Cleaner that would allow him to save his energy for the more taxing healing—and fighting, if he had to deal with the fake Valkhound as well—spells he'd need.

Cosmic pink wings unfurled from the Drone's back and he made a beeline for the lone Cleaner. Help is coming, he thought, sending a wave of reassurance its way.

MOTHER

If the spell Jinyi had cast was some sort of success, nothing at all indicated it. There was silence, and a brief wave of... something, from Mother. Something distant and stifled, no doubt to prevent interference in his test.

But the hint he'd get was something like... surprise, and some confusion, maybe. And a little bit of dismay. Like she were scrambling to catch up with a changed plan; and Mother was many things, but 'rigid' and 'ordered' were far higher on the list than 'flexible' ever was.

Closer up, a few things became clear. First, with no bridge, there was very little space for Jinyi to stand; the spot alone was barely enough room for the Cleaner and the 'Valkhound.' And second, this close it was also clear that the Valkhound was quite fake. It was formed of the same false polymer so much of the Hive's creations were, painted loosely with strong-smelling dyes. But the fangs were long, and gleaming with still-wet paint; the eyes stared with a malevolence that was intense despite its artificial nature.

@Jinyi

Close up, it became clear that there was not room for him to stand beside the Cleaner and Valkhound, but that was okay because the Valkhound was also quite fake. So Jinyi simply... alighted on top of its polymer body, holding onto its neck and shoulders for stability, and now that the distance between him and the Cleaner was close enough, he reached to staunch its wound.

In a room this saturated with Ordered radiation, the magic responded immediately, smoothing over the vicious gaps torn in the ant's carapace, molecules falling into their proper place in the lattice and cells multiplying to fill in the wound until it was as if it were never there at all. Its pain had been quite real, and Jinyi still remembered the buzz of its distress in the Hive-link freshly, but at least now it was out of immediate danger to life and limb.

Any consternation from Mother (at the sight of Jinyi using her fake but obviously menacing Valkhound as a stool) was held back. Instead, there was a trickle of relief, or at least the bleeding away of distress, from the Cleaner. In moments it was whole again, and it paused, as if awaiting command.

And the room seemed to hold its breath.

1/3

@Jinyi

The room held its breath...

And held its breath...

And kept holding....

Mother may have hid her consternation, but Jinyi could not keep his from bleeding into the Hivemind as a latticed bridge to take them both back failed to appear from thin air. It now became apparent why he'd taken the unexpected, and faster, way here a moment ago; it would've been pretty bad if the Cleaner were still struggling with its injury while he was coaxing his magic into being.

Mother--and the strange, silent owl--watched as Jinyi failed.

She made no mention of it, in emotion or in word, and she kept herself oddly shielded from him, for now. She didn't interfere.

But there'd been a faint spark of... something, when he'd cast his last spell. A spark that hadn't been present, when he took flight. A promise, almost, of potential.

Now? Nothing. The spark wasn't gone, but it hadn't been added to; it was like striking a match, and getting a spark, and knowing that the spark might erupt in flame.

If he hadn't missed the matchbox, that was.

@Jinyi