The Rejected Luna's Twin Alphas
Its form was softer, more fluid, almost human in its proportions, though its face remained a blank, silver void.
The figure stopped ten paces away and bowed, its liquid metal neck bending with a sound like humming high-tension wires.
“Do not strike, Sovereign,” the figure spoke. Its voice wasn't a digital rasp or a cold, mechanical click; it was a melodic, multi-tonal vibration that seemed to harmonize perfectly with the rhythmic, deep-bass bubbling of the magma behind it. “I am Arktos. I am what your kind might call a ‘Discarded Unit.’ The High Architect deemed my resonance too sympathetic—too grounded the messy biology of this world. I was sent here to be erased, to be melted back into t
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