The Construct’s Cogitations

If the construct had a designation, it had forgotten it long ago. The human that constructed it called it Roam, but identity was irrelevant; its purpose was clear. It existed to preserve balance in the Waste and, by some bizarre twist of fate, Dren.

And Dren—blessedly ignorant, hopelessly curious, entirely exhausting Dren—was a project of staggering proportions.

As they traveled, the construct processed the environment, scanning for dangers and calibrating its systems to maintain the human’s fragile existence. It detected micro-variations in the air quality, minor seismic disturbances underfoot, and electromagnetic shifts emanating from the “big thing” ahead. It knew how precariously Dren’s life hung in this hostile place, though Dren seemed blissfully unaware of his own fragility.