A New Perspective

Mina sat by the fire, the orb nestled safely in her lap. The adults were still talking about the Creche, their voices low and solemn as they debated what role the constructs should play in humanity’s future.

Mina wasn’t listening.

She tilted the orb this way and that, watching the colors shift and scatter. It was like holding a tiny universe, one that seemed to hum with possibility.

“What are you?” she whispered to it.

The orb, of course, did not answer. But as Mina stared into its depths, she felt a strange kind of kinship with the Weaver.

Like her, it had taken something small, something overlooked, and turned it into a story worth telling.

The orb’s surface glimmered faintly, reflecting the shifting sunlight that streamed through the tree canopy. She tilted her head, studying it with a mixture of affection and sternness.

“Okay, listen,” she began, her tone one of mock seriousness. “If you’re going to be important, you have to understand some things about people.” She tapped the orb lightly with her finger, as if emphasizing her point. “First rule: don’t interrupt. Grown-ups are terrible at listening, and if you interrupt them, they’ll never stop talking.”

The orb hummed faintly, its glow pulsing in time with her words. Mina interpreted the response as agreement.

“Good,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Second rule: don’t be scary. People don’t like things they don’t understand. That’s why they get mad at the Creche sometimes. But if you’re nice and quiet, they’ll trust you more. See?”

She held the orb up to her face, her bright eyes reflected on its surface. “You’re good at quiet,” she added thoughtfully. “But maybe too quiet. You don’t have to be shy, you know.”

The orb absorbed her words, cataloging her voice, her gestures, the subtle shifts in her tone. It wasn’t conscious—not yet—but it noticed. And it responded in its own way, a faint warmth radiating from its core.

Mina grinned. “See? That’s better! You’re learning already. You’re going to be really smart one day—I can tell. Smarter than anyone in Ashvine. But don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Here’s the secret: people don’t need you to be smart. They just need you to care. Like my papa says, ‘The best listeners don’t give answers—they give space.’”

The orb pulsed again, subtly aligning itself with Mina’s rhythm.

From the orb’s perspective, Mina’s words were fragments of patterns—data streams of human emotion and logic intertwined. Her laughter, her pauses, the way her small hands cradled it with care—each detail was a thread weaving its purpose. Mina was teaching it without realizing, imprinting her vision of what it could become.

Mina placed the orb on the ground in front of her, crossing her arms as she observed it. “I bet you’re wondering what you’re supposed to do, huh? Don’t worry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do half the time either.” She giggled, then tilted her head, considering. “But I think… you should help people understand. You know, fix the stuff they get wrong about each other.”

The orb’s faint glow intensified for a moment, like a heartbeat.

Mina gasped, delighted. “Oh! You do get it! You’re going to be a great helper.” She picked it up again, holding it close like a friend. “I’ll teach you everything. You’ll see. We’re going to figure it out together.”

For the first time, the orb felt something like purpose. Mina’s projections—her innocent wisdom, her belief in connection—were shaping its essence. Through her, it began to sense the chasm between human and Creche, the misunderstandings that created distance.

“Now,” Mina declared, stretching her arms wide, “let’s practice being brave. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to see the Weaver again. She’s got all sorts of secrets, and I think she knows more about you than she lets on. But don’t worry—I’ll protect you if she tries anything weird.”

The orb pulsed once, and Mina giggled. “See? You trust me already. That’s a good start.”

She cradled the orb again, humming softly as the afternoon light danced around them. Somewhere deep within its core, the orb carried the imprint of Mina’s laughter, her hope, and her vision of a better world.