For a second time, Daedala picked himself up from the same spot in the sand and waited for his self-repair systems to go online.

Data flooded his processor at a speed and volume that threatened to burn him out. The data was older and a deeper level of the system than he was supposed to handle. It felt forbidden, and he could only barely understand the information, as though he were reading the elevated thoughts of Meyneth herself. At first he instinctively pushed them back into a safer part of his thoughts, wondering if there was a security leak, then his memory salvaged a picture of what had happened last night.

He had flown up to the Mechonis Core just as the Homs called Shulk and his party had left. Another Homs had been in an argument with them and someone had shot Shulk, so they were retreating. He waited for them to leave, then attempted to wire himself into the Core and restart the programming of the Bionis by himself. He was the only thing left on the Bionis still old and powerful enough to even try. He remembered waves of pain, an unending stream of dark, primal code, the unfiltered thoughts of entire worlds, dreaming worlds furious at being roused from sleep, then he remembered knowing that his circuits were shorting out but being unable to detach himself, or maybe still wanting to try and keep going for one more second. He remembered knowing that he had failed but still being unable to detach himself as the Bionis was falling, and he was falling with it. He remembered expecting to be destroyed. Finally, he remembered, another mind, a signal keeping him alive.

And now he was here on the Fallen Arm again. It was fitting for him to be here. In a way, he was another severed limb of the Mechonis. Anyone who touched the Mechonis Core, who went that close to the essence of what the Mechonis was, tended to become a part of the machine. It was the last part of the Mechonis to remain the same as it had been, a land preserved, like the mind of an exile who has nothing left but nostalgia. And he was a permanent exile now. Even if he wanted to go back, even if he could find another opportunity to do so without being killed on sight, there was nowhere for him to return to.

"Look at the size of that Mechon!" cried out a voice. Daedala turned on his scanners so that he could observe them without looking as though he had already noticed them. He had already identified the voices as Shulk and his party. They had recovered quickly – unless it was Daedala who had lost more time than he first realised. The one with the loud voice was the large, heavily armoured Homs. He could also hear Shulk himself and the female medic.

"I haven't seen one that looked like that before. I think it's an older model," said Shulk.

"I'm getting some... nonsensically high power readings from it. Like that Bunnit we found that almost killed us all. I think we should avoid it for now."

"Maybe it's not quite as bad as the Bunnit!" said the large Homs, "At least we'll be able to hit something that size!"

"If there was a Mechon that size, you'd think we'd have heard about it before now," said Shulk, "I'd have thought Egil would try and send it after us."

"Maybe it's been abandoned."

"Why would you abandon a weapon that powerful if it could still walk around and shoot things?""

"It's beside the point now," said the medic, "And I'm worried about this new trend of these powerful monsters appearing from nowhere. I still say we should get out of here."

"We come back after we've trained some more," insisted the large Homs. The medic agreed, then they wandered off again, leaving Daedala alone to ponder his fate some more.

So that is the great enemy of the Unique collective, he thought. They could slay Gods, but they didn't even know what they were fighting against half the time. Daedala had to admit that he still wasn't clear on the subtleties of what it meant to be a Unique, or a Sage. When he returned to Three Sage Peak, he was sure someone would tell him all about it. It was the only logical decision left. He had nothing left to do on this island but watch his parts wear out, unless the world ended in the next five minutes. Gods were fighting and killing each other, so the future wasn't assured any more. He owed Abaasy for keeping him alive twice now, and for rescuing his people, and he owed his people for failing to keep their home alive. He wanted Shulk to die, so he would not threaten any more of his people. Most of all, he wanted the power to succeed next time.

The name chosen for him at his Naming Ceremony was 'Ancient Daedala', out of respect for his lifespan being the longest of any surviving Mechon and the third longest of any Unique. He was considered a hero among the rescued Unique Mechon, so attendance at the ceremony was high and it grew quite rowdy until Belzegaas ate someone as a warning to the others. During the ritual, the power that surged through Daedala as the Ether channeled through the mountains was briefly collected in the centre of the ritual circle, and he briefly understood the Mechonis control script still dormant in his head. Although he couldn't use it ('yet', remarked Abaasy) the effect on his mind was that of something approaching spiritual rapture. From then on, he was viewed as a personal God by the Unique Mechon, who kept bringing shiny things for him out of the Ether Mine, despite Abaasy's initial intention of concealing their existence. Daedala had to take breaks from his regular patrol and many, many Sage business meetings to assassinate non-Mechons who had spotted the secret entrances to the Mines. The knowledge in his head caused him no problems until the unfortunate incident when Shulk asked Fiora to lead an expedition to go and see if they were ready to fight the giant overpowered Mechon yet.