...before me, in halls of grinding white columns, and flooded cisterns, and stuttering, exhausted light, was WIRES. Almost human, it breathed the way the building did, remembered how the building did —how could she not, it was bent into her.
Wires was —naturally— a thing of flesh. Nevermind the coiling cords, tendinous and knotted and sliding and slithering between itself. Nevermind the silicon in its skin. From my position, staring down its orthogonal, it was almost human, the lower ridges of its face a mockery of my own mouth and nose, its breast and insectoid limbs obscured enough in the gloom that it could have been arms reaching out to me, upright legs sharpened to points –though the upper face had been replaced by a single, vertically-settled eye. The pupil dilated and widened as it returned my gaze studiously. It wasn’t hostile, this much I could tell.
