Chapter 18, not beta-read.

Enjoy!

When Miku came to, the first thing she noticed was that she'd been crying; her cheeks were damp, as was the pillow. It was also quiet. She was alone. A blanket was covering her.

She opened her eyes. It was dark, so dark she could see it through the blanket. She sat up, pushing the blanket off of her, and took in the room.

It was Gumi's room, but nobody else was around. Judging from the windows, night had settled in nicely: it was probably past ten. Somewhat confused and disoriented, she wiped her tears. They were cold. The room was cold, too. The computers were gone, but Gumi hadn't put away the wire cutters.

Just how long had she been out?

She wanted to get up, but a strange exhaustion took over her. Instead, she lied back down. She rested her hands on her stomach: the panels to her insides had been closed shut, and she'd been dressed. Yet she couldn't shake the strange chill that went down her spine.

She was confused. Except she was confused. Curiosity and Want weren't there, whispering things into her ear. Nobody was there, nothing was there. She was alone in the room, and alone in her mind.

It was strange. She couldn't tell if she ought to feel sad at the departure of her emotions, or glad that somehow, they had sunk into the very thread of her mind… But what had her mind become? It wasn't a small group of emotions huddled and whispering, but it also wasn't endless strings of code, flashing warnings, parameter updates. Her thoughts seemed to exist in some transparent, thick and endless cloud, drifting in and out with the wind, felt more than heard, but understood nonetheless. It was colorful and noisy, infinite echoing and flashing, with emotions and memories passing through without restraint. Somehow, even though they didn't come from an update, or from a whispered consciousness, she could tell that she felt confusion. She could tell why: she didn't know the time, she didn't know what exactly had happened, and she didn't know what was to come. Was this her mind, now? Were these her thoughts? Was this was the future felt like?

Concern came in soon after. Lily, Gumi and Galaco had seemed completely panicked, hours prior. Were they alright? Where were they, now? Why had they left her? Did they need to go get something? Did she have to wait for them? Did they need help?

There was also Fear, when it hit her that nothing was certain anymore. Literally nothing, when her thoughts and emotions were so faceless, spineless and fleeting. What was the temperature in the room? How was her battery level? What was her balance like?

She needed help. She needed company. The need for someone to tell her that it would be alright was like a stab to the gut. She needed a hand to hold, a hug, a smile. She wanted to sit up, yet even though she had done so mere moments earlier, she was scared to. What if her momentum would be too great? What if she threw herself off-balance and fell? She needed someone to catch her, to hold her.

She started to cry, but without Sadness there to tell her why, she was lost. Was it just because of the Fear? How could she tell? What if there was another reason for her distress? How would she ever know?

She clutched the blanket and hid under it. In the darkness, she felt slightly better, but no safer, and she couldn't tell why. Was this normal? Was she broken? Was this going to change? Or was she doomed to this eternal uncertainty?

A sound filled the room, along with some light. Did someone come in? Who? What did they want? Would she be able to understand them?

"Oh heavens, Miku!"

It was Lily's voice, and she understood her! The sheer relief made Miku sob loudly, hugging the blanket even tighter. The blonde's footsteps drew close with a terrifying speed, and Miku was petrified: how could she tell that Lily was getting closer? Was she right? Or was she delusional?

When Lily gently tugged at the blanket, it was her first clue that she wasn't going absolutely insane. That second wave of relief was enough to make her come out of her hiding place, but then embarrassment and shame hit her like an anvil. She was crying, but for what reason? Lily would think she was going crazy, that she had lost her mind. What if she was right though? What if the blonde was watching as her mind completely unraveled?

Instead of laughing or questioning her, Lily instead pulled the tealette into her arms.

The woman was warm. Her embrace was firm. Her clothes were soft and smelled of laundry soap. Miku took it all in as she literally latched onto her, finding comfort in the senses she could somehow recognize.

"I'm scared," she shakily confessed between sobs. "I don't know what's… What is? My mind—"

Lily pulled out of the embrace with a panicked force, holding the tealette's face between her hands. "What's wrong? Tell me."

Face to face, Miku could see that she had been crying, too. Her eyes were red and puffy, with shiny trails leading to her chin. As she stayed silent, taking in her expression —wild, scared —, Lily insisted, "Tell me!"

"My mind— Nothing makes sense. It's all… Detached? I can't tell… I can't even tell what I'm thinking. My emotions, they're gone, but I'm—"

The blonde listened with rapt attention. "You mean— The numbers are gone?"

"Gone. I can't tell anything anymore. Nothing is certain. The facts… I can't tell if—"

Lily cut her off with a raised hand: obviously she was torn between immense relief, and her own curiosity. "Wait. Weren't they already?"

"I thought they were, but they were there. I could hear them. They told me about the world. Now they're gone, and I can't tell anything."

Lily nodded, concern taking the upper hand over the relief. "And your emotions?"

"Silent, gone, I'm alone… I'm alone." Miku felt the fresh wave of tears coming and couldn't stop it if she tried. "It's all floating around now. I don't know anything. I don't know—"

The blonde hugged her again, and seemed calmer, if still alert. "Are you hurt?"

She considered what that meant as she melted into the embrace. Hurt? Pain? She didn't think she felt any. With Fear gone, was her self-preservation system still online? Would she notice when she did get hurt? "No. I don't think so."

Lily sighed, her breath warm against Miku's shoulder. "Thank goodness. We thought you'd died."

"Died?"

She nodded, and though Miku couldn't see it, she felt the movement. How could she be so sure it was a nod? "When Gumi cut the wire, your mind just ended. The code on Galaco's screen stopped dead in its tracks. When we tried reconnecting the wire, nothing happened. So… So we separated the wire again, closed you up, and we waited. I came back here because Gumi's missing her pajamas, and she couldn't bear to come in here. I'm— I'm so glad you're ok."

"I'm ok?"

Lily pulled back again, and took in Miku's expression in return. Eventually, she said, "Yeah, I think you are."

"How can you be so sure?" the tealette asked, her voice trembling. "There are no numbers, no emotions to tell me what I'm feeling. It's all so vague…"

A slight frown appeared on Lily's features. She started a sentence once, twice, then finally tried, "Do you think this is permanent for you?"

"I don't know! It could change, but… It's so different from before."

The blonde nodded, and sat next to the tealette. "I'm sorry. I guess that the only comforting thing I have to say is that, at the very least, you're aware of what you're fearing. You can observe your self-doubt, no?"

Miku paused, already seeing what Lily was implying. She nodded.

"I guess you'll have to start with that," the woman suggested. "I'm sorry if I can't be more helpful: I'm not too sure of how you used to think, and how people think. All I know, is what's going on in my head. And that's what everybody else knows, too. The rest of the world is weird. But your mind is your truth, at least."

The tealette nodded again, only partly understanding. Her truth? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense: while she couldn't know anything about the world for certain, from the temperature to time of day, she knew that she was upset from it. She knew that she was lost. She knew that she was scared. "But what if I need to charge my battery? Will I be able to tell when I need to eat? Or what if I walk too fast and lose balance? What if…" she trailed off, the countless situations that could harm her flitting through her mind. Since when were imagined scenarios not only so blurry, but so charged with fear?

"Want to try walking now?" Lily offered. "I'll hold on to you. Don't worry."

Miku hesitated, then gave in. She had to know for sure that she hadn't completely lost her grip on reality, and her only comfort was remembering that she'd been able to sit up with no problem.

With scared movements, the Vocaloid stood, Lily helping her every step of the way. When she was on her feet, the woman asked her how she felt.

"I'm…ok."

"May I let go?"

"I think so."

The blonde released her, and strangely enough, even though Miku wasn't completely certain that her balance was alright, it somehow felt right. She took a step, and the momentum didn't make her crash. Through some strange magic, everything cancelled each other out, and she didn't fall, didn't tremble. It felt natural.

Yes. It felt natural.

"See? You're fine," Lily exclaimed, relief obvious in her voice. "You're totally ok!"

"I'm not so sure," Miku couldn't help but hesitate. "Do you think I'll ever get used to this?"

The woman shrugged, obviously feeling lame for having nothing better to offer. "I guess only time will tell. You feel better?"

Somehow standing, somehow alright, Miku had to admit that while the numbers were gone, and the rigid truths of the world around her had evaporated, somehow the truth of what she perceived was good enough. Still hesitating, she sat down again, but said, "Yeah, I think so."

Lily smiled. "Great. How tired do you feel?"

"…Pretty tired, actually. I feel like I need some sleep."

"Alright. Guess what: you sleep here for the night, get some rest. I'll tell everyone the good news, and we'll see how things are tomorrow morning. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Need anything?"

The tealette guessed she could drink something, but she gazed up at the woman's face. She was happy, but exhausted. Fatigue and the remains from her sadness still marred her face. "I'm fine," she eventually muttered, telling herself that she could get a drink from the bathroom sink. "I'll sleep on all this."

"Sounds like a plan."

Lily went to retrieve the pajamas for Gumi, wished Miku a good night, and let her be. The tealette listened as her footsteps went down the hall. First, she told the news to Gumi, she guessed. Two pairs of footsteps went to the other end of the hall, surely to spread the word. As she guessed, knocks filled the hall, so Miku stood and locked her door.

Everything seemed floaty and uncertain, the tealette couldn't help but repeat to herself. Even the cold metal in her hand seemed distant and faraway. How could she tell how cold it truly was, without some code telling her? Was she supposed to feel it? Was she supposed to feel everything else in her life, and do her best to interpret from this vague, subjective data?

Apparently.

She swallowed the fear: at least she knew what was going on in her mind. She could tell she was scared and sad and apprehensive. As long as she had a good grasp on that, she told herself, the real world couldn't be too far behind.

She returned to the bed, ignoring the clamor of excited voices. They were reacting to the news of her survival, and the Vocaloid couldn't help but feel flattered that they seemed to care so much. Sad, that she didn't feel strong or confident enough to greet them.

She really needed to sleep on it.

With tired movements, she tucked herself into Gumi's bed. She wondered how things would change, now that her manner of thinking had changed. Would pain feel different form before? Would she perceive hunger instead of a low-battery warning? What else could she expect? What what else was there that she would never be able to expect?

As she lay there, a sudden realization hit her: she was incapable of initiating shutdown. No code, no commands, no window. No scheduled wake-up time, either! How would she sleep? Like a human? Would she sleep at all? That scared her in particular: even before, sleep deprivation had had its consequences. Now, this this foggy colorful mind, how would it hit her?

Desperately, she tried to remember everything she knew about human sleep. Her hosts had mentioned 'alarm clocks', and there was a device on Gumi's nightstand that told the time, but would it go off in the morning? Or had it been disabled? She had no idea. Come to think of it, would her hosts go to work the following day, since they have already taken a day off? Would they wake her up, or let her be? Did they know that she was scared, that she needed help? Would they continue to help her, now that she had been fixed as a unit? Would the hassle of helping her further discourage them from assisting her friends?

Her friends! Miku gasped, remembering that she was suffering all this for the sake of those she'd left behind. Oh dear, how would they experience this transition? They would go from totally emotionless robots to confused, angry, upset AIs… Maybe they'd reject the change. Maybe they'd hate her for helping them. Or maybe not, considering all they stood to gain.

She sighed, forcing herself to relax somewhat. She had changed. Some filter had been removed, and she was finally thinking clearly: she just couldn't interpret it all yet. Some day, her friends would go through the same, and soon enough they'll see the benefits of it. And should the world turn against them, should Crypton try to take them back, the law was on their side.

For now, she had to sleep. Again, she dug through her memory, this time not resorting to her human friends, but to what she had seen through Luka's eyes. She remembered that the Vocaloid had loved sleeping in, enjoyed horror movies… But how did she fall asleep? She didn't remember. She couldn't: even before, her memory had started to become unreliable, but suddenly, not only did she fail to remember parts, she also doubted the accuracy of what she could recall. What was once a clear image was a muddled picture, marred by gaps and holes.

She tossed and turned.

This would be one big hurdle to overcome. This new mind, this new way of remembering, the new impossible goal that is sleep.

Miku figured she ought to relax. Her system had warned her of overheated and active processes: she probably just needed to calm down, and let sleep come to her. She sighed, closed her eyes, and thought of good things. She thought of cooking for her friends, with Meiko, when they'd all be better. She thought of bonding with Luka again, of what it would be like to be with her again. She imagined the happiness, the love.

Soon enough, trains of thought derailed entirely and disappeared off-track, replaced by other thoughts which went in strange and unpredictable directions. She couldn't keep her eyes open.

Eventually, at an indeterminable time, she fell asleep, and when she opened her eyes again, it was to an otherworldly universe were she saw an endless supply of objects floating around in the air, lit up by neon lights attached to skyscrapers that disappeared into cotton-candy clouds. Rivers flowed with soup and noodles, chickens flapping around wildly over night-black streets and Christmas-like traffic lights. Advertisements added to the ruckus, showing faces, innumerable faces, innumerable noises. There was traffic on the streets, cars and horses pulling carriages with princes and princesses and faceless overlords and heartless artists. She walked through the world until she found she could fly, soaring between the skyscrapers and amongst th chickens are herons and crows and eagles, sampling the candy clouds and diving into the rivers. Music filled her ears, music from long past, a music she thought she had forgotten, a music she finally remembered…

And when she was finally tired, she went home and curled up on the couch. The ceiling smiled down at her, promising her that Luka would be home soon, soon. Soon… Miku grinned but missed her companion, her partner, and wondered where she was, why she wasn't home yet, what was keeping her. The ceiling descended, reassured her, but its smile had gone crooked, and Miku felt something was wrong, something had happened, something was going to happen, and when the ceiling came hurtling down, she realized she would be crushed, right there on her couch, alone.

She awoke with a scream, the covers trapping her limbs and trapped in her fists, but her mind still clung to that living room, that couch, that impending doom, and she couldn't help but throw herself to the ground before making a broken beeline for the door.

Luka's name was at the back of her throat.

She needed to know what had happened to her.

Why wasn't she coming home?

"Miku!"

The tealette shrank back at the booming voice, she blinked away tears, and she recognized the hall in the Internet Co house, where all their bedrooms were. There, in front of her, holding her by the shoulders, was Gakupo, and behind him, Lily, Gumi, Kokone, Cul, and Galaco. She was against the wall. Her head hurt.

What was going on?

"Miku!" Gakupo repeated, giving her a vigorous shake. "Talk to us!"

She gasped in air: had she been holding her breath? She'd been crying? When? "I—"

She eyes darted around. Cul had disappeared, Galaco was keeping the others away. Concern was etched on all their faces. But where was Luka? What about Meiko, Kaito, the twins? Where were they? Where had they gone?

"What happened, Miku?" Somehow, Gakupo's deep voice cut through the confusion in her mind.

"Where is everyone?" she whined, unable to stop herself from grabbing onto his nightshirt. "Luka was coming home. But nobody is here…"

"They're all still at Crypton," he gently replied, confusion adding to his concern.

"Crypt—"

The name was like a slap to the face, and suddenly, she realized that everything she had just seen had all been in her mind. It wasn't real. Crypton hadn't existed in that world.

None of that had been real.

A glass of water was offered to her: Cul had gone to fetch it. The tealette accepted it with trembling hands, but couldn't bring herself to drink.

"What happened?" Gakupo asked again.

She shook her head, tears still dripping down her cheeks. "I don't know…" she whispered. "I saw another world. Another reality. It was… It was amazing. But then I was alone, and the ceiling was going to crush me."

A relieved smile made its way to Gakupo's features. "Sounds like you had a dream."

"More like a nightmare," Lily corrected him, kneeling beside the tealette.

"A dream…!" Miku blinked, remembering what that word meant, and immediately felt ashamed. It had been a dream! It had all been nothing more than a dream! An illusion she'd made for herself, a story, a fabrication! "It was just a dream?"

"Seems like it," the blonde said with a reassuring smile. "You've— You've never had a dream before?"

Miku shook her head. "I always went to sleep, and then I'd wake up. I've never, ever seen something like this, felt something like this…" As she spoke, she remembered the details of her dream, the endless skyscrapers, the rivers of soup and clouds of cotton candy, all the pure nonsense, and she couldn't believe she'd believed it.

She couldn't believe she thought Luka was coming home.

"How could I have believed all that?" she scolded herself, grasping the glass with restrained anger. Anger, shame, that both burned so much more than they once had. Seeing how they all stared at her, confused, worried, relieved, it only heightened her embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she finally managed to choke out.

Lily shushed her, taking the glass from her so that she wouldn't inadvertently crush it. "It's ok, don't worry."

"There's no emergency?" Kokone asked.

"None," Gakupo replied as he stood. "It's fine."

"Well, at least we have proof that she's really alive." Gumi mumbled, her expression unreadable.

"You can go back to sleep," Miku weakly muttered, hoping to reduce how much she'd bothered them, wondering how late it was. "I'm sorry."

Lily wasn't buying it, though. "I feel like you might need a little chat."

Miku nodded: how could she deny it? Wordlessly, they returned to Gumi's room, while the others returned to their own rooms in a quiet hum or confusion and relief. Once the door was closed, the tealette dared ask, "What time is it?"

"A little past three in the morning," she replied, sitting on the bed. She patted the space next to her, inviting the tealette to sit down. When the Vocaloid obliged, she handed her the glass and instructed her to take deep breaths.

Miku followed her instructions, inhaling for three seconds, holding it, before exhaling slowly, and repeat. Soon enough, her trembling hands and emotions all calmed down, and she could finally take a sip of the water.

"Alright. How do you feel? Want to talk about it?"

Miku shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"What did you dream about?"

The tealette told of the skyscrapers and horse-drawn carriages and flocks of birds. Lily listened patiently, giggling sometimes at the more humorous aspects of Miku's dream. But when she got to the part of waiting for Luka to come home, she hesitated. She hadn't disclosed their relationship when she'd told the original story: how would it make sense for her to be waiting for just one of the Vocaloids? How could she justify it without the love that had originally punished them?

"I was waiting for everybody else to come home," she half-lied. "And the ceiling told me that they'd be home soon. But I didn't believe it. I didn't like its smile. It lied to me and I could feel it. When I wanted to run, to find my friends, it fell on me. That's when I woke up."

Lily nodded. "That's quite the dream. Quite the first dream, too."

Miku sighed. "I'm sorry for waking you all up for such a silly thing."

"Hey, it's ok," the woman insisted, her tone kind. "Dreams are scary and weird: nobody will hold this against you."

"Are you sure? Dreams are such a human thing. You're all used to it: I feel like I overreacted."

"I'm positive. It's a human thing, for sure, but that's the thing about humans and their minds: they're confusing, scary, and unpredictable. Children often get terrified from dreams, but it's not uncommon for adults to get seriously disturbed by them, too. Considering it was your very first dream on top of that, I promise that everybody understands."

Miku gulped. "But it's just a dream."

"That's something you know in hindsight. In the dream itself, you usually don't."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If you somehow realize you're dreaming, then they call that 'lucid dreaming'. But otherwise, you're like the rest of the population: you immediately believe everything you see, and it all feels and looks real, no matter how amazing and fantastical, or gruesome, it is."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

The woman chuckled. "That's alright. But see? Don't worry about them being mad at you for waking everybody up. If anything, they're happy to see you alive."

Miku wanted to bring up Gumi's comment, but stopped herself. "If you say so."

"I insist so," Lily teased. "Feeling better?"

Miku nodded. "I think so."

"Just finish the water and go back to sleep. Don't worry: dreams don't typically pick up where they left off."

The tealette grinned. "Oh, that's good."

"Yeah." The woman yawned. "Alright, I'm off. You'll be ok?"

"I will be."

"Tomorrow evening, I'll be able to talk about it some more if you want."

"Thanks."

"And don't feel pressure to wake up earlier than us! Sleep in, in fact. Take the day off: you've earned it."

With that, the woman left the room, leaving the tealette in near-total darkness and silence.

She sighed. Even with the talk, that heart-wrenching feeling of missing Luka, fearing for her, fearing for her own life, it didn't really go away. She figured it would, it had to. If she dreamt anything like humans did, she had to get over it soon. Or did people walk around with the permanent scars of bad dreams?

She finished the glass of water, stretched, and lied back down. She couldn't help but think of how her emotions had seemed to burn her, earlier in the hall. That anger, the embarrassment. Without the separate little entities living in her brain, the emotions felt like they were pressed against her skin, against the very fabric of her mind, confusing her thoughts.

It was strange, scary. She couldn't even blame it on the intensity of the moment: even then, her mild fear for her future dreams, for her future in general, seemed to be more bare, more naked, and rooted far deeper into her system than Fear ever had been.

She thought for a long time, and eventually her fatigue won her over once again. She dreamed, and wonderfully so, of open fields surrounded by forest, of the shining sun. Almost nobody else was around; only Luka was with her, held her hand, held her close, and Miku couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy.

When she woke up the next morning, she was alone, with a strange tightness gripping her belly. With no program to wake her up, with no alarm clock to summon her, she had continued to sleep well into the morning, and had blissfully missed when everybody had gone to work.

Realizing that the paradise she'd just visited had never existed hurt almost more than the nightmare had, but she pushed on.

After carefully, hesitatingly making her way down the steps, still a bit unsure of her movements, she found a note on the table, covered in six different kinds of handwriting. Essentially, everybody hoped she'd had a good night's rest and wished her a restful day off: she was allowed to do no chores, according to Lily and Galaco, and Cul added that there was still a kettle of tea waiting for her. Gumi, however, reminded her that they still needed to remove the device proper, plus anything that allowed her to get connected to the internet.

Miku sighed: there was still so much to do.

As she sipped her tea, she wondered how much Lily had shared about her new state. Even then, as she walked, unassisted by algorithms and numbers, she felt like she was both floating and lost. Walking was simple. Easy. Just walking, without the analysis of a thousand factors. Moving an arm, turning her head, it was all so free all of a sudden. But there was still so much to discover. For example, that strange tightness she had felt only disappeared after she ate a simple breakfast. Immediately, she identified it as her hunger: her battery must have been low.

Was this how it was going to be, from then on, she wondered. Hundreds of different, vague feelings that alarmed her of vital emergencies, which needed painful interpretation? What else could she expect? What could she prepare?

She worried, and continued to worry. The dreams, hunger, the freedom of her movement, the red-hot nature of her emotions, it was scary. Terrifying. Everything had changed. Everything was different.

With no chores to do, she wondered what she could do, to keep herself occupied and out of her own mind. She considered the many books and movies and series available to her, but she was legitimately concerned of how she would emotionally react to them. Would she be able to handle them? Would they later manifest in her dreams?

She couldn't risk it. So instead she considered doing chores despite what Lily had instructed, but when she found little to no laundry to do, all dishes clean, all surfaces spotless, she was left to her own devices again.

As she returned to the living room, planning to plop down on the couch and to think her day away, she caught herself humming a tune. Puzzled, snapped out of the rhythm, she tried to resume it, and found it to be strangely nostalgic. Soon enough, the rest of the melody followed, and stranger still, she could feel the percussions join in, and maybe even a voice…

It was a song. But she didn't recognize it. Where had she heard it? The Internet Co hadn't played music in the living room, or anywhere where she'd been. Maybe a movie she'd watched? No…

She had dreamt it.