The Ultimate Conflict II

[MikelaC1]

CELESTICA

Celestica can only barely suppress a giggle...sometimes the troubles of a deity are amusing to mortals.

Okay, so where are we headed now?
And is this something that the High Lord and the Paragon should attend?

[Ridai]

"I'm afraid I have exhausted my ability to channel enough life energy to wake a deity for the day. But if more still need to be awoken, I can start doing so in several hours." Rahja informs Hanali, soon passing along said information to the Greyhawk pantheon. "Really, I'll need to talk to Zurkar about constructing a device to receive, list and manage sendings, this is already getting out of hand. Maybe a better spell can also be invented, as Sending is just bad for frequent or quick communication. Magic research really needs to stop focusing on making things explode for a while."

[Starsign]

Looking at Korshim, Usabhar simply provides his usual, stoic look as the clockwork dragon hisses at the dwarf. While Korshim's size is definitely different, the clockwork dragon does otherwise seem to be as Usabhar expects. It isn't a surprise that Korshim is upset as well; Usabhar had pretty much nearly killed Korshim from the dead magic field that the dwarf had not known about then. Usabhar however wouldn't hold as much of a grudge as the dragon is if the dwarf had been the one nearly killed. The paragon only sees it as an unfortunate ignorance in dead magic combined with the downside of being made and reliant on magic.

So Usabhar simply speaks calmly to Korshim; his voice calmly ruinous by how unworried he is to the clockwork dragon. "Sargti is my kingdom. You will find me in no place more often than these stone and iron-hardened walls." There is a pause as Usabhar speaks honestly to what was a somewhat hypothetical question. He asks something more on-topic after, "Or do you state that I belong in your High Lord's dungeon? Or even in the bloody wastes of the Abyss?"

Nasiri, realizing she is not important to the topic at hand, simply slithers away from Usabhar and Korshim as she watches on with curious eyes.

[Emperor Ing]

Are you volunteering? The construct spits back. Despite having a machine mind he clearly as some wit. It would certainly improve the life-expectancy of myself and any other constructs your stupidity might cause the destruction of.

[Realms of Chaos]

Emanacal: Sadly, there is nobody around to hear Lord Wero's tremendous wit. The dragon is left alone with the whistle, left entirely alone for the longest period in quite a while. No guards patrol by, no messengers come bringing news, and even the vulturous advisers are notably absent at the moment.

Evergold: "Agreed," chimes in Hanali before another sending comes in, "There are far better uses for magic out there. Far more practical ones as well." Hanali lifts herself up to the surface of the amber pool and floats atop of it as if it were solid as the goddess leans back and closes her eyes, "I have a fair share of sendings to attend to, it would seem. If you require rest while you regain your magic, I have accommodations of sorts deeper within the cavern that you are free to make use of while you rest."

[Emperor Ing]

Hall of Judgment

Although the constant pleas of supplicants, the mutterings of Praetorians chatting among themselves under the foolish belief their Lord could not hear them, the lecturing of Eclipsian officials briefing him on current events for hours longer than necessary and the intricate networks of scheming advisors attempting to manipulate the High Lord's whims to their own ends became more-or-less the background ambiance of the Hall of Judgment, today, right now...it's different. Perhaps the first time in centuries the Hall lay silent, or as least as silent as it can be, with nothing except the whistle of the broken pipes to keep him company. Rather than question it, the High Lord simply decided to embrace it. Reclining on the throne, he allowed his wits to run wild.

Immediately he imagined the marble floors breaking, the snapping of stone and the grinding of metal works jutting out, steaming pipes writhing as though the tentacles of some eldritch construct escaping the very prison those dwarves 500 years ago attempted to seal away in their Iron Citadel. Praetorians fought with immeasurable bravery against impossible odds, their numbers dropping by the moment as the beast was barely harmed by their steel blades yet were disposed of with no difficulty. From the depths a beast of interconnected and interlocking pipes emerged. The High Lord sat up, recognizing his old arch-nemesis, the Pipe King. Back at last to settle an ages-old score against the inheritor of Emanacal.

With contemptuous interest the High Lord let loose a flurry of magical projectiles. Each single one able to leave dust where a man would have once stood, yet unable to even harm the creature. In retaliation, a verifiable wall of open pipes pointed at the dragon, and at that moment the Indigo Eclipse was bathed in a solid beam of scalding steam, causing the silver and even some of the stone of the Hall to melt from simply being in the same room as a blast so hot. Yet when the steam cleared, the High Lord stood, unhindered. His regalia clinging to the dragon's flesh, damp, but otherwise as unscratched as the dragon himself.

It was clear what was at stake. the Pipe King would take his Empire by force and turn all that was into pipes. So long as he drew breath the High Lord would never let that happen! Roaring in challenge, he charged the Pipe King, whom was all too eager to accept. As their bodies collided, Lord Wero opened his eyes.

Obviously none of what he had just imagined actually came to pass. Regardless, it was an interesting diversion. Perhaps only five minutes went by...?

Regardless, Lord Wero closed his eye again and once again allowed his imagination to run wild for the duration of his peace.

[Ridai]

"Thank you, Hanali." Rahja answers with a bow. She realizes a few seconds later that while she can adress Shelyn simply with her name because of their relationship, the same might not hold true for other deities, who might prefer titles. Hanali can tell that Rahja has nothing but respect (and, in a way, love, because of having made Celestica who she is today) for the goddess. If the goddess indicates any sort of dissatisfaction, the healer genuinely appologizes.

"With everything that has happened, I could use some rest..." Rahja takes Celestica's hand, wanting to head to said chambers, but waits for her to finish with anything she wants to do and then follows her, absentmindedly caressing her soulmate's hand with her thumb meanwhile.

[MikelaC1]

CELESTICA

Hanali, indeed all of the Tel'Seldarine have no need of the silly and often vain titles of other deities like Stormbringer or Lord of the Mountains or what have you. They are all simply Hanali or Corellon, or Rillifane or whatever.
Even though she has not expended anywhere near the magical power that Rahja has over the past while, the idea of rest appeals to Celestica just as much and she goes with her soulmate.

[Starsign]

Usabhar presents himself as an opposite of sorts to Korshim. Though Usabhar is human, or as human as a divine paragon like him is, he possesses practically no sense of wit or emotion as he responds to Korshim. "I know what I have done; nothing of your sort is to blame for that. However you should understand the circumstances that I had been in." Usabhar can tell that Korshim doesn't entirely know Usabhar's knowledge, or lack thereof, with the area they had met before.

With a great huff, Usabhar gives his perspective on what had happened. "I came in to that world out of coincidence. I was not aware the place was infested with dead magic that you and the royal family of the empire needs so much. I had not known a machine would need magic to be functional either. I do not dare insult the young Prince's skill in his craft but do not expect that he lets strangers know about his masterpieces, nor should you expect every kingdom understands magical machinery like your empire does." With his words spoken in hardened confidence, Usabhar simply stands and eyes Korshim, awaiting a response.

[Emperor Ing]

Foolishness is no excuse. The construct bites back. Neither is blindness. Your magical artifacts are comparable in potency to the regalia of the High Lord himself yet I am expected to believe you did not notice their suppressed effect? Steam whistles out his horns in what probably passes for a sigh. This isn't going to go anywhere and Korshim knew it. Do understand that such foolishness may not be tolerated in the future.

Beyond this, if you are this people's leader than you should know of this heretic named Olog and an unspecified Dwarven merchant I heard speaking hatefully against ERROR: NAME NOT FOUND. Nasiri heard it too yet she has chosen not to pursue it.

[Starsign]

Usabhar simply takes a short nod as Korshim decides to let the current subject be. The dwarf could have argued on all he like if Korshim had wanted to do so. Yet that would have been a terrible waste of time had that been done. The dwarf shall indeed keep in mind of Korshim's magical condition for future events; he doesn't need words to show that. What is more on Usabhar's mind is the mention of Olog, a shopkeeper, and some strange, possibly mechanical dialogue which likely refers to Keltahkonkmet. Does Korshim not understand how to speak the language, or even the names of dragons? Though dragons within Wero's empire may use a short term name, the dwarves of Sargti have always called their great god by his full name. Perhaps it may seem hypocritical, as Usabhar finds no real power in names. Yet the ties which bind Sargti by religion have and will always call the great silver dragon by Keltahkonkmet.

Usabhar calmly walks past Korshim and Nasiri as he looks down the hall where the shopkeeper's place is. His voice resonates in Korshim's ears as the paragon speaks once more. "Has Nasiri not stated the values of Sargti clearly enough?" He looks, almost glaringly, to Nasiri who simply chuckles quietly. "I might have oversimplified the explanation," she says somewhat respectfully to Usabhar. He simply shakes his head in response. "I shall explain the law here later Korshim. But know that she did not pursue some form of punishment because we do not believe in it for such minor acts. I shall discuss the matter with that who you mention, then I shall remove your confusion with my information... And do not refer to Keltahkonkmet by whatever machine dialect you have." Usabhar takes a quiet sigh of the rocky air in Sargti as he goes to visit the shopkeeper, letting Nasiri and Korshim be for but a moment.

Nasiri slithers up to Korshim, looking at the clockwork dragon slightly amused, slightly sincere. "I suppose now I should really explain how things work in Sargti, shouldn't I?" She makes her mature smile, contrasting the more childlike trickster in her. "Anything you wish to ask first about Usabhar's kingdom?"

[Emperor Ing]

YES!! He exclaims exuberantly, his mind's routines returning a dizzying array of questions. Only a few of which actually pertained to Sargti though. Only one processing routine produced a conclusion. As of now, Korshim officially has absolutely no clue what organics expect of him.

WHAT?! His mind causes his voice module to say, unable to quite yet form a coherent sentence. Fortunately it is only moments before something coherent is uttered. Just...just tell me about Sargti. Start from the beginning. Ignore data with the following tags: History. What does he mean by "Machine Dialect" anyways?

[Realms of Chaos]

OOC: And back after several days of sickness and misery. Mostly better, though.

Evergold: Wandering where Hanali has indicated, you find a large hallowed cavern 20 feet in width and 40 feet deep. Most of the ground within the area is covered in soft golden grass reflecting the light cast down by luminous crystals lining the ceiling.

While no proper furniture is visible, there are at least three features in the form of a large bed of dandelions, a clear scrying pool in the center of the room, and a larger bath filled with crystal clear water. A small fig tree, ripe with fruit, rests to one side.

There is precious little in the way of physical objects in the room, though a single harp of exquisite quality rests in one corner.

Emanacal: Wero is roused from his thoughts by another loud whistle, one coming from but feet away. If you open your eyes, you can finally see the pipe that leads into your throne room. As it so happens, the pipe leads directly under your throne.

[Emperor Ing]

Hall of Judgment

The dragon snaps his eyes open, only to be greeted by those rebellious pipes. That is just rude. You don't run a coup while the Sovereign is snoozing! However it is only now that Lord Wero realizes his thoughts are not those of a rational individual seeing pipes that are coming out of the woodworks for seemingly no reason at all.

Where did you come from? He muses, leaning over from the Throne, eyes tracing the length and direction of the pipe. And where do you think you're going? He grabs onto the pipe, yanking it out with everything that he was. Naturally someone will notice one of their pipes now having taken tremendous damage, so when they come to investigate they'll be able to give the High Lord answers. Or at the very least, rouse whoever is doing this into action. Certainly the Archmagister will claim credit for this soon enough. The High Lord cannot remember a time when said arcane being actually used illusions in any of his incalculable pranks, but this certainly seemed like the kind of thing he might do.

Spoiler: Strength check to yank the pipe

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(1d20+16)[25]

[Starsign]

Walking into the shopkeeper's store, Usabhar pauses at the entrance. He stands firm, reasonably calm despite the tense concerns swelling around him and his kingdom. To hear and watch his own kind bring doubt however is a far greater pain than anything he has witnessed. It is odd to consider that when the dwarf is stoic to a degree taken to impossible degrees. Yet his kind are most important to him; above all except Keltahkonkmet the dwarves are who he cannot fail.

The dwarf waits like a statue until the shopkeeper notices the paragon's presence. "I had been told you expressed some doubts recently," he begins, not speaking with concern or with worry but instead with what might be some sort of understanding. As paragon, Usabhar knows his kind well, better than anyone. "Explain to me what your mind has been thinking. Though my time away may have helped cause it, I do not leave something that I should fix."

Nasiri, seeing that Korshim is going to need a full explanation, nods casually and proceeds to lean back on Sargti's iron wall. Her words express a small concern which conflicts her tone of respectful wisdom. "Oh boy, you really want the full course on this?" She can tell this will be a headache. "I'll start from the beginning then. Pay attention now Korshim." Nasiri takes a deep breath, exhales, then begins her lecture on the kingdom of ice and iron.

"Sargti is a dwarven kingdom in the middle of this frozen wasteland known as Kulomen. Sargti is heavily militaristic, greater in warriors and soldiers than any sort of mortal you'd find in an empire. Sargti are firm allies with the frost giants and the azers also living in Kulomen. Most importantly, Sargti is highly religious and worships and puts their life with Keltahkonkmet, the great, invincible silver dragon of resilience and defiance." Barring her slightly exaggerated explanation on Keltahkonkmet, Nasiri gets the basics of Sargti out of the way. She proceeds to the more important concerns to Korshim, the laws.

"Now Sargti is governed by a senate, consisting of seven of the wisest, prestigious, and most combative of the dwarves. My lord and god of Sargti's dwarves is of course the greatest of them. As a senate, Sargti believes in power to not be centered on one dwarf, at least that's how it has been before Usabhar came to be. Instead the senate act together to delegate tasks in Sargti as equals. The dwarves believe in freedom, allowing one to speak freely and act as they please so long as they do not come to harm anyone held dear to Sargti. In addition Sargti is quite merciful, diplomatically allied with the frost giants after a great series of conflicts between the two was put to an end by Usabhar. All in Wesslorne you will likely not find a more protecting guardian than this very kingdom. And..." She pauses, noticing something with her "student." "Are you alright Korshim? You seem to be shuddering." She asks curiously.

[Ridai]

Tired, having used more life energy than is present in some countries in a overall very short time and having seen and endured a lot, Rahja is glad to finally get some rest and some time alone with her soulmate. She takes a long bath, enjoying the feel of the waters within this holy place, letting her thoughts go free as she gets to know the harp in this room, each instrument having a different character to it. But most importantly, Rahja desires sleep. Lying down on the bed of dandelions, the aasimar pulls Celestica close to her and as soon as her eyes close, Rahja's breathing soon becomes slower, steady.

[MikelaC1]

Being an elf, Celestica does not have a need or even an understanding of sleep, having her own version of trancing. She holds Rahja close until she is sure the aasimar is asleep, and then moves from her side. She checks out the fig tree, picking enough that they will be able to have a breakfast when she wakes, and then does her own study of the harp. She checks the scrying pool, attempting to see if she can use it to scry on Emanical to see the progress of repairs there.
Once all this is taken care of, she returns to the bed, taking up a cross legged position next to Rahja and closes her eyes, entering into the elven trance easily.

[Emperor Ing]

I...I don't understand. Indeed he didn't. He was taking in so much information at once and not one bit of it made a lick of sense. Indeed, several of the concepts Nasiri mentioned were utterly alien to Korshim. What was this "freedom" thing she mentioned? Some unknown deity on par with INPUT: Keltahkonkmet? Indeed, with no prior knowledge to compare it to, no rocks from which he might anchor this input, the dragon's mechanical mind went nuts trying to process it. Such power could have been diverted to far greater use, such as remaining coherent. How can such a system remain functional? Too little authority is consolidated into the Head of State! Usabhar and the Senate are clearly not equal by title and ability, why would they pretend? Diplomatic alliance with enemies? Allowing subjects to have FREE SPEECH?! These dwarves are insane! He is a machine with a machine mind and therefore by definition cannot go crazy, but right now it took a great amount of willpower not to divert all spare to his arcanodynamic thrusters and take off flying through the nearest exit, screaming as loud as his voice module will allow.

[Realms of Chaos]

Emanacal: Pulling the pipe, Lord Wero manages to snap it easily, releasing a foggy (but thankfully noiseless) cloud of steam into the room over the next couple of minutes.

Suddenly, the throne itself starts to shake, wobbling in place as if something under the throne were trying to lift it up and look at the pipe. Eventually realizing that something is in the throne (or so you may surmise), the shaking stops and everything goes back to normal.

[Emperor Ing]

Hey! Lord Wero looks down on his Throne, banging it with his tail. Hard enough to make noise but soft enough so as to not cause damage. Needless to say, after all that rumbling, he was not pleased. I didn't say 'stop!'

[Starsign]

Nasiri is silent for a moment as Korshim issues his rather hectic and confused response. How is she supposed to explain this all to a robot who has been thoroughly cooped up in only one empire? If this is what Zurkar had taught the clockwork dragon, than the prince is likely no better off in actual knowledge. Seeing what is happening to Korshim, Nasiri isn't even sure if she wants to know what trying to explain Sargti to Zurkar. To Nasiri, Korshim looks like he's about to explode from sheet logic; not a mistake easy to recover from if it occurs.

"...Well," Nasiri starts again, definitely attempting to sound more aware with her smile having faded. "Sargti is able to work together. They don't need to have a head of state containing that much authority because it is simply unneeded. As I believe Usabhar once stated, power among a group allows for greater growth in the kingdom. I believe the meaning is that the dwarves stand on their own and don't need a single authority to rely on. And as for free speech, it is allowed because of the belief in freedom. The dwarves, tolerant and resilient, are responsible with that right and are glad to speak their minds if it is not out of pure malice."

She finishesm looks closely at Korshim once more, and comes to an unfortunate realization signified by her continued frown. "You aren't buying any of this, are you?"

[Emperor Ing]

It's nonsense! The steam coming out continuously from the clockwork dragon's head alone is enough to turn the entire area into a sauna. Such a system should have surely collapsed from political intrigue and divisiveness compounded by the breakdown of society as a result of a malcontent underclass! What could have possibly allowed such a system to remain intact for so long?

[Starsign]

Nasiri looks in concern now that Korshim is literally letting out steam from his own body. Her idea that he could explode sure seems to be more plausible by the moment. She knows how to answer Korshim's question; in her own mind answering would be almost like suicide. If she was trying to rile Korshim up to whack away at Usabhar, she wouldn't have a concern. That sort of result seems rather unlikely now though. The clockwork dragon's looks indicate that he wants a response immediately. Nasiri won't have time to fetch Usabhar as some sort of helpful professor.

She sighs, full of resignation as she answers. "Because the dwarves of Sargti have no interest in gaining political power through intrigue and are content with this structure of the senate. Otherwise the giants, undead, and demons would have wiped them out centuries ago."

[Emperor Ing]

Korshim simply stands as still as a statue. A steaming statue but a statue nontheless, a rather blank look in his normally lively eye-lenses before his mouth flops open, sound coming out despite the lack of lip-sync normally present in Korshim. ERROR: MEMORY/PROCESSING OVERFLOW He says, monotonously. RESETTING... The hissing of servos and the dragon's reduction into a more relaxed stance are indicative of the machine's systems shutting down. Plates open and vent even more steam into the already hot and humid room, leaving Korshim himself still, motionless, and seemingly lifeless.

[Starsign]

Nasiri blinks several times as she notices Korshim seemingly shutting down. What in the world did that all mean? Memory/Processing Overflow does not make any sort of sense to her. She turns her head as she leans closer to Korshim, eying him in silent caution. Hoping she hadn't completely broken the clockwork dragon, she taps his head several times with her tailguard to see if he may react in some form.

Spoiler: For Realms

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Realms, if you find time after exams are done, will you be posting for Usabhar? I'm having him speak with the shopkeeper so I am hoping there can be some sort of discussion that can help bring more information about the religion of Sargti.

[Emperor Ing]

The closest thing to a response Nasiri gets is a ringing sound as metal strikes metal. However somehow a response is achieved as motors and circuits slowly hum back to life. The whole construct shakes for a moment as servos regain their strength and Korshim seems to slowly regain consciousness.

Then at all of a sudden, something snaps and the dragon looks around frantically. Who-wait-WHAT? What just happened?! A rather foolish question. The exact details of 'what happened' were written into his mind and were as readily available as any memory.

[Realms of Chaos]

Emanacal: In response to Wero's cries, the entirety of the pipe zips underneath the throne like a tape measure set to retract. Everything is back to normal as a voice continues calling out, a distant but familiar metronome.

My Lord? My Lord? "My Lord?"

The throne room is filled with the normal assembly of sycophants and lower nobility, all of which are staring at lord Wero with varying levels of confusion and concern.

Sargti: Thought it takes the shopkeep a moment or two to tear its gaze away from the stone that had so captured Nasiri's attention, he at least manages to look up bashfully at the Paragon.

"I'd heard that Keltakonkmet had vanished and then you went and vanished as well. I didn't know if... Hell, why would you burden yourself with an old merchant's woes."

[Emperor Ing]

Indigo Palace

The High Lord scans the room. Had these people been always there or did something happen to cause them to suddenly appear? What if these people were themselves false and he had turned out indeed to be alone in the Hall of Judgment. For the moment he addressed his supplicants with a single word:

No.

...before vanishing in a flash of indigo light.

Sanctuary

Lord Wero appeared in a flash in his sanctuary. A rather simple stone room relatively free from the pomp and luxuries of the Indigo Palace despite the refined taste of that whom it was designed to accomodate. The solitude and privacy that could be found here not only made up for that shortcoming but made sure it held a fond place in his heart. It was the one place on Emanacal free from the conniving of fiendish advisors, the foolishness of administrators, the sniveling stupidity of supplicants, and the annoyances of the Archmagister Prime (most of the time anyways. The second most powerful anti-teleport ward in all of the Empire would be but a speed-bump for him.)

The dragon tried to recount what had just happened. His reflection was invisible to himself, he had seen pipes appear where there had been none, then return to their state of non-existence. Then the previously-empty throne-room appeared to spring to life right in front of his eyes, leaving him unsure if his activities in response to the other effects went noticed or not. Perhaps the stress was getting to him, he reasoned. In a span of a few days, the Empire gained an entire planet, a moon, was attacked by two different enemies of colossal scope with enormous collateral damage, a different planet exploded. One daughter doesn't love him anymore and was asking to suffer in addition for it, the other, incumbent Lord General died...

Perhaps the stress was simply just getting into his head, Lord Wero reasoned. It has been crazy these past couple of days, perhaps even moreso than the Second Battle for the Indigo Citadel. Although he cannot die, even the High Lord had to admit he and his mind had its limits. Perhaps he just needed some rest, is all. Although he had apparently at some point transcended the need for sleep (and food, and drink) a long time ago even without magical aid, he doubt returning to that oh-so comforting dreamscape could do harm to his troubled mind. Fortunately it is what that colossal bed was there for.

[Starsign]

Usabhar notes the shopkeeper's interest in the stone that the paragon had brought home, but the paragon's own interests were his people first. Whatever value this stone of his has, it would be revealed later. Instead Usabhar covers the stone with his heavily muscled arm as he walks forward to speak to the shopkeeper. "I am paragon of our kind," he begins, strict and sharp yet reassuring in his tone. "I'd be traitor to what we hold dear if I do not listen to those in need of assistance. Doubt is not something we are to carry after all."

Usabhar considers his words as he thinks of the broad situation. The dwarves are capable of simply putting down a heresy yet they have no experience in dealing with whatever magic Olog threatens against Sargti's religion. Usabhar however has faced things far worse than this. His own defiant stubbornness wouldn't be surpassed by any demonic disease or worship that can be placed against him. Usabhar feels that once the rest of Sargti realizes this, Olog will not be able to corrupt any dwarf within this kingdom anymore and the dwarves can put the Zuggtmoy down without Usabhar's help. The matter is how to show that, a way Usabhar thinks he can present through his presence and words. "If you doubt Keltahkonkmet, do not. Right now he fights a war far beyond the scale we've seen. He seeks our trust that we can handle ourselves while he his attention is elsewhere but never would he blindly ignore us. I, his chosen, has seen to be his voice and will be for you all. So if you must, let your beliefs and words communicate through me so I may send them to Keltahkonkmet. That is what I suggest." Usabhar lets his words echo in the shopkeeper's place, seeing to repair the shopkeeper's mind and understand the traits that make Usabhar the paragon of his own kind.

Spoiler: OOC

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And there we go, will try for Diplomacy if it will make a difference. I'll take 10 for 55. Glad to write for Usabhar again.

Nasiri makes several blinks as Korshim resets, quite confused as to what is up with the clockwork dragon. Did he remember anything? Does he want to hear this all again? All are questions Nasiri can't answer easily. "...Erm." She peeps out a concerned sound at the frantic Korshim. She speaks slowly to try and emphasize her confusion to Korshim but finds she really only has a couple words to say. "You were fried by logic." Not halfway of a motivational speaker, she wonders how long Usabhar will be.

At least she has a little time to ask Korshim a question related to his mental meltdown. "How much do you remember of the past couple minutes?"

[Emperor Ing]

That exact information flashes before Korshim before Nasiri is able to speak the second syllable. I had a critical cognitive overload where my processors struggled to...well...process the information I was being given. I am designed with numerous fail-safe programs to avoid self-inflicted harm, two of which activated to force a shutdown of sensory input and motor functions respectively to avoid the risk of cognitive overload and hardware damage from overheating. He says this very matter-of-factly, as though it were obvious.