The Observer

Unbeknownst to either of them, a Creche observer had been monitoring the Wastes. Its form was vastly different from the Weaver, its design suited to processing data across vast distances rather than intricate social dynamics. Its shell glinted faintly in the sun, blending seamlessly into the landscape as it recorded Dren’s progress.

The observer had no opinion, no judgment. Its task was simple: to ensure the integrity of the restorative process. But as it watched, a faint signal pulsed through its network, a message passed silently to the Weaver and others like it. The Creche had noticed something in Dren—something that warranted attention.