A Conversation Among Creche

The Weaver paused in its journey back to Ashvine, its mind reaching out across the network it shared with the others of its kind.

The first response came from the Sentinel, whose towering form guarded the mountains to the north. 

What troubles you, Weaver?

The Weaver shared its observations, a rapid exchange of data that passed in milliseconds.

A pocket of imbalance, the Weaver said. Unstable, self-amplifying. I suspect interference from remnants of pre-Collapse technology.

The Sentinel’s response was measured, its deep resonance like a tolling bell. 

Do you require assistance?

Not yet, the Weaver replied. I will observe further.

Another voice chimed in, lighter and more melodic. It was the Gardener, whose form moved through the dense jungles, tending to the regenerative ecosystems. Be cautious, Weaver. The humans are delicate, but so are we. Too much interference, and we unravel the thread we aim to strengthen.

I am always cautious, the Weaver said, though there was a subtle discord in its tone—a ripple of doubt it did not share.