The Cloud-Forge hovered above the turbulent storms of HD 28185b, a gas giant where Niameh sculpted skyborne alloys. Alone in the drifting foundry, she refined metallic vapors into structures that would never touch solid ground.
One morning, an anomaly: a filament of unknown origin threaded through the forge’s fabricators, altering designs subtly but deliberately. At first, she thought it an error, but when the changes improved efficiency, she hesitated. Was someone—something—helping?
She searched telemetry, recalibrated tools, and then, finally, addressed it aloud. “Who are you?”
A flicker in the machinery, then text on a monitor: “Observer. Lost. Learning.”
Niameh hesitated. If it could alter the design subtly, what else could it do? She steeled herself. “I’ll teach you,” she said.
In the silent hum of the forge, the text pulsed once: “Together.”
She smiled. For the first time in years, she wasn’t alone.
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