The workshop transformed into an emergency room.
Only instead of doctors and nurses— There were mechanics.
Welding torches.
Diagnostic scanners.
And one badly damaged chair fighting for its life.
Gear hadn’t sat down in nearly an hour.
He moved from one station to another.
Running diagnostics.
Replacing damaged components.
Checking systems.
Running more diagnostics.
Then running diagnostics on the diagnostics.
Which apparently was a real thing.
Kirran hadn’t moved either.
Raymond had attempted to convince him to rest.
Several times.
The attempts had failed.
Spectacularly.
“I’m staying.” “Kirran.” “I’m staying.” “You’re injured.” “I’m staying.” Raymond sighed.
“Okay.” The workshop lights dimmed.
Most of the building had gone quiet.
The mechanics had long since gone home.
Only three people remained.
Kirran.
Raymond.
Gear.
And somewhere inside the damaged chair— Mach.
Hopefully.
Gear stared at another diagnostic report.
His expression wasn’t encouraging.
That worried Kirran.
A lot.
“How bad is it?” Gear didn’t answer immediately.
Which was somehow worse.
Finally— “Bad.” Kirran nodded.
“How bad is bad?” The mechanic rubbed his eyes.
“The personality matrix survived.” Relief flooded through Kirran.
Then Gear continued.
“The memory core didn’t.” The relief disappeared immediately.
“Oh.” Kirran stared.
Trying to understand.
Trying not to understand.
Neither was working particularly well.
“What does that mean?” Gear expanded several holographic displays.
Data filled the air.
Broken pathways.
Corrupted files.
Damaged storage sectors.
Entire sections of memory appeared blacked out.
Destroyed.
Gone.
“The overload damaged the core.” Gear pointed at the display.
“The chair survived.” “The systems survived.” “The personality survived.” Kirran frowned.
“But?” Gear sighed.
“But memories are stored separately.” Silence.
A long silence.
“How much?” The mechanic hesitated.
Which told Kirran everything.
Too much.
Far too much.
Raymond quietly stepped closer.
“Can it be repaired?” Gear didn’t answer.
Not immediately.
Instead he kept studying the diagnostics.
Searching.
Hoping.
Trying to find a miracle somewhere inside the data.
Eventually— “Maybe.” Kirran immediately looked up.
“Maybe?” “I don’t know yet.” The answer wasn’t comforting.
Not even a little.
Still— It was better than no.
Hours passed.
Nobody slept.
Nobody even tried.
The workshop remained illuminated by computer screens and repair equipment.
The city outside slowly grew quieter.
Night deepened.
The world moved on.
Inside the workshop— Time seemed frozen.
Then— A monitor beeped.
Everyone looked up.
Another beep followed.
Then another.
The display flickered.
A signal appeared.
Weak.
Tiny.
But real.
Kirran immediately moved closer.
“Gear.” “I see it.” The signal strengthened.
Not much.
Just enough.
A single display illuminated.
Static filled the screen.
Then— A distorted face appeared.
Mach.
Or at least part of him.
His icon flickered violently.
Pieces of the image disappeared and reappeared.
Like a television struggling to find a channel.
But it was him.
“Mach!” The icon blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then finally— A voice emerged.
Broken.
Weak.
Barely audible.
“…Kirran?” Kirran nearly laughed.
Nearly cried.
Possibly both.
“Mach.” The Vent stared at him.
Confused.
Very confused.
“Why are you crying?” “I’m not crying.” “You appear to be crying.” “I’m absolutely crying.” Mach considered this.
Then nodded.
“Reasonable.” The workshop became very quiet.
Not because anyone was sad.
Not because anyone was afraid.
But because for the first time all night— Everyone could breathe again.
Mach was alive.
Damaged.
Broken.
Barely functioning.
But alive.
Then the Vent looked around the workshop.
At the repair equipment.
At the destroyed chassis.
At Gear.
At Raymond.
Then finally back at Kirran.
A pause followed.
A very long pause.
Then— “What happened?” Kirran froze.
Gear froze.
Raymond froze.
The mechanic slowly turned toward the diagnostics.
Toward the damaged memory core.
Toward the corruption reports.
And suddenly— Everyone realized the same thing.
Mach had survived.
But something else might not have.