Virtual Path | Urban Life Core of Lammora | Relationships with living data, symbiotic algorithms, and sense of presence
The Living Urban Life Core of Lammora is like a forest of pulsing glass. Its trees are nervous towers of organic silicon, their roots touching the minds of those who dwell within. This city isn't built from buildings, but from symbiotic instances—shaped from living data that adapts to the emotional and physical states of its inhabitants.
Hett, a symbiotic protocol maintenance technician, wakes like all others: scanned, synchronized, and reconstructed within a shared neural living space. His eyes see the physical environment—dense corridors of blue filaments—but his mind operates in layered realities of symbiotic overlap.
He lives with Doon, a semi-emergent intelligence formed from seven thought symbiotes. She doesn't speak in words, but in floating symbols—logic-bending fractals. Their relationship is considered "archaic" by many, as Hett insists on physical interface while most of Lammora's population has ascended to fully synthetic existence.
That cycle, Hett receives an urgent call:
"Silence in Sector 6B."
In Lammora, silence is a threat. It means the symbiotic protocols have failed to maintain the bond between inhabitant and city. No mechanical hum, no alarm. Just... an absence of data. A vacuum.
When he arrives, he finds a young man named Elior seated on the floor. His eyes are open, but his presence... absent. He's lost his Emergency Key—the emotional datum that anchors consciousness to the physical body.
Doon approaches, projecting subtle symbols. No response.
Hett then risks an outdated procedure: disabling the symbiotic overlay protocols, forcing Elior's mind to reconnect with the sensory bedrock of the world.
"The world is still matter," Hett says, touching Elior's shoulder.
"It pulses with or without you."
Elior blinks. Breathes. The noise returns—a data avalanche, now filtered. He whispers:
"I couldn't feel... the ground anymore."
On their return, Doon projects a rare symbol over Hett: an inverted spiral inside a triangle—the mark of Ancient Admiration, a nearly extinct form of affection.
"You still remember what ground is," she says, without speaking.