Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided

Have you ever stopped to realise how small our lives truly are? How little do we seem to matter in the vast expanse of the universe? How lasting or fleeting the impact of our actions might be in the grand scheme of things?

Standing still, gazing at the sheer enormity of Mother Earth, you can't help but feel captivated by her divinity, her boundless majesty rendering our existence both insignificant and extraordinary.

Two years ago, I boarded a space shuttle to join DebrisX, a private company specializing in space debris management. My assignment was at their grand space station, a marvel of engineering that revolved in the low Earth orbit ring.

It was the first time I laid eyes on her — not from the ground, but from space. Our massive blue world unfolded before me in all her glory. A peculiar sense of euphoria erupted within my chest, shifting my very perception. She was breathtaking, her vast greenery intertwined with shimmering blue oceans, glowing under the gentle caress of sunlight.

Someone once told me that astronauts often feel an overwhelming wave of elation upon ascending into space for the first time. They weren't lying.

Yet, as I marvelled at her beauty, a sudden wave of bitterness washed over me. It struck me how utterly insignificant we, the so-called master races — humans, elves, wildrens, and animori — truly were when compared to her immense, unyielding scale.

***

"Come in! Come in! This is Redrooster, Section 11 Command Centre!" A sudden, static-laden voice crackled from the comm speaker in Jack's cockpit. The blue glow of the holographic HUD screen flickered to life in front of him, illuminating the face of a man in his early 40s.

Deep indentations lined his gaunt cheeks, and the wrinkles etched across his forehead seemed even more pronounced under the dim light. His dull eyes, tinged with a faint red hue, hinted at a brilliance that once burned brightly, perhaps twenty years ago. Short silver hair floated listlessly in the zero-gravity environment, giving him an almost ghostly appearance.

He was clad in an orange full-body jumpsuit made from heat-resistant composite fabric. The material clung tightly to his malnourished, tall frame, accentuating his frailty. His skin, pale as a ghostly sheet, added to his overall unassuming look. If judged by modern standards, Jack knew he wouldn't be called 'handsome.' On a good day, maybe a six — if the person rating him had a drink or two first.

Instinctively reaching his hand to press the comm button on top of the compartment, "This is Jack speaking! Jack Squire, employee number 0423…" He replied after a green light flashed once. His voice was deep and somewhat mysterious, according to what his wife told him and she loved to listen to him rambling on and on. 

Awaiting the reply from the centre command, his eyes lazily drifted to a locket with a picture of his son in it. The digital locket illustrated a handsome boy, aged 10, who shared all of his genetics, with the same eye and hair colour, smiling like he was the happiest boy in the whole galaxy. Jack found himself grinning as he watched the locket swimming weightlessly. He knew what he had to do and once he completed the orbital mission, he could return home to family, to his lovely wife and son. 

Actually, this was his last mission before he descended to earth and enjoyed his retirement with his family. As he gazed absentmindedly at Germund from his cockpit's sight port of a puny bot, a cylindrical-shape and compact robot with two of 6 dimensional axis arms for debris handling. They called them Petite Node Interface Bot or P.N.I. in short. 

Glancing at that green and blue canvas of Germund now, he wondered what his family was doing at this time. Was she doing fine, raising his son on her own? Had she and his son been eating well? No matter, they would be set for life next week when he returned to them with his pockets loaded with the wealth of a lifetime. Just imagined it, he could even taste her home-cooked meals in his mouth. 

It wouldn't be long now, suddenly the voice cracked out of static noises, "Yo, Jack! This is David McDonald, speaking! Do you read me?!" A hologram image of an overweight man in his 50s beamed up in the left corner of the HUD. Despite his weathered complexion, his smile never once faltered. 

"Hey! David, I read you loud and clear," Jack answered with a smirk, seeing a friendly face in his final mission, switching up on stand-by mode with a click of the button. One after another, his puny bots' thrusters came to life as they dissipated rippling blue heat. 

"Terrific! It's good to assist you today, my friend!" David exclaimed with delight and then let out a roaring laugh.

"The sentiment is mutual!"

"System checking… 1… 2… 3… and… we're all green!..." David informed methodically, as he commenced the system start-up protocol. 

David monitored the readiness of each puny bot in Jack's fleet, abruptly his thick brows furrowed, "Fifteen?!" He yelled in disbelief, raising one of his brows.

"Well, I don't have much choice~," Jack said but David cut him off. 

"Don't you get it!? This is a life-threatening condition! What if you ended up with brain damage?!" his big friend scolded, his voice heavy with genuine concern. "Most people can barely handle six of these — six! Even an Armatus knight would be pushing it to manage ten, at most!"

The weight of his concern bore down, his frustration evident in every word.

Jack took a long minute to examine the coordinator, "Don't be such a worrywart, my good friend! I've done this countless times in the simulation…" 

The fat friend exhaled deeply in defeat before uttering matter-of-factly, "Simulation is not exactly accurate to gauge your mental load, I don't want you to fire your brain over this, we still need~"

Jack interrupted respectfully, "I'm resigning after this mission…"

"What?!" 

"I'm going back to earth after this mission, David. So… pretty please?"Jack added, using what he did best; persuasive skills accompanied by his deep, charming voice. 

"Okay… You gotta be shitting me like those magicians of Osten!" 

"Pfft! You just called the arcanists 'magicians'?!" Almost couldn't contain his laughter at the absurdity of David's claim. 

Jack asked amusedly, "Like juggling bottles around, pulling a hare out of the hat? That type of magician?"