-Elective III Timeslot; Office of Pythius Lichtenberg-The office was a rather odd juxtaposition between sterile barrenness and chaotic clutter. Bookshelves, cabinets, server racks and charts sprawled in no apparent order around the perimeter of the room, a phantasmagoria of folders festered within the gaps, as if beige maggots in bloodless wounds. Fleeting glimpses of magic circles, of trend graphs and of academic papers blindly stare back in the darkness, illuminated by the brief scintillations of the humming servers. Humanoid silhouettes glower from their claustrophobic crevasses, their hazy outlines motionless as they form a disorderly rear guard for the solitary desk at the front of the room. The center of the room however, was desolate. Empty. A smooth surface devoid of even the slightest of imperfections or inconsistencies. It was here that, with practiced grace and unnerving precision, Pythius inscribed the circle. It was identical in origin to the inscription Marcus had witnessed, however, this was twisted. Customized to its set purpose.
Upon activation, a seemingly palpable surge of power rose from the depths of the rapidly rotating runes, briefly flooding the room with light before plunging into further darkness. A quiet click of a remote, a deafening hint of noise within a soundless world, heralds the activation of the high-speed cameras positioned in prime locations around the room. Then, the vision manifests, fast-forwarding itself at ludicrous speeds as it re-enters the parameters of the prophecy a multitude of times.
As the cameras gathered the information and fed it through concealed circuits, something awakens. An enchanted processor, purpose-built for artificial intelligence applications had activated. It did not speak. It did not think. It was a respectable piece of hardware, loaded with respectable software, manufactured between multiple respectable corporations of non-human yet respectable origin. What it was not was the pathetic mockery the media and popular culture oh-so-happily and oh-so-deludedly believe. It was a machine, nothing more and it was precisely because of that cold logic and complete lack of any lifelike qualities that it was so efficient.
Image recognition.
Trend analysis.
Data compilation.
Those were its functions. Its purpose. It certainly excelled at that. After half an hour or so of calibration, guiding the neural network to determine the visual symptoms of Marcus' death along with relative distance between people, it was primed and ready.
Leaving the automated machinations to perform their duty, Pythius leaves the room and activates the locks. All twenty of them. As it glided away in its usual silence, it pondered the various matters that had now become rather relevant. Not simply the matter with Marcus, but also those that regarded Ghrislaine. It paused. This was certainly an opportunity, to potentially resolve two issues simultaneously. Hopefully it wouldn't come to such a stage though, if the adversary indeed possessed precognitive support, then a bloodless resolution was indeed quite likely. Sspecially now that it possessed an ace up its sleeve, so to speak, in the form of Ailil.
Would it be permissible to inform G. Lavoie of this matter? Judging by reports of her behavior, this opportunity for bloodshed will certainly be one that she will relish. After all, if a lethal consequence is expected, it may perhaps be prudent to increase the probability of a positive outcome and, in the process, make a step in securing the trust of an otherwise troublesome student.
Louis is currently attending his broad-spectrum economics class.