Chromus turned the corner into the deep net. There were no real doorways to this place of darkness in Glitchworld, it was hidden from the normal users. Chromus phased through the bricks of Mana Street and was now in the gritty alleys of the black market. He passed through the shifting crowd of programs and humans, each marked in the morbid laughter of their masks. Some wore the faces of clowns painted in black ink, others wore faces of pain or sadness, each carefully applied to hide their identity. Chromus didn’t bother hiding from these people, this was his domain. For years, he had been the king and no one would approach him without the utmost respect.

He passed through the final opening out of the alleys and was now inside of the Underground. Around him, the dark bricks rose upwards for miles, pock marked with stores and stalls all selling the most illegal types of goods. Some sold clone chips, banned from Glitchworld for the havoc they caused during the droid riots. Others sold information, like Cyndris or Masi. Only three rings up, one of the most premium spaces in the Underground, was the Meat Man, a program that dealt in the acquisition and selling of human bodies for the use of programs.

Chromus moved on, searching for who he had come to see. Usually, The Splicer was on the ground level, his expertise in the nature of Glitchworld’s programing was unmatched by any other Sigma programs. This afforded him the best spots in the Underground. But today, Chromus could not see him anywhere. He looked through the crowd of people around him, looking for the striking blue lines on the head of his avatar, but did not find them.

Before he could move from the crowd, a program approached Chromus. “Chromus, I am pleased to see you.”

He smiled. “It is nice to see you as well, Malignus. What can I do for you?”

Malignus placed his hand on Chromus’ arm and lead him from the center of the crowd towards the alley. “I was about to ask you the same thing. It is not very often that we see you on the ground floor.”

As they entered the alley, the program led Chromus through a side door into a small bar, empty except for the bartender. “I am looking for The Splicer.”

Chromus could feel the program tense up. They took a seat in a booth near the back of the bar, far away from the door. “I do not know if that is possible,” said Malignus.

“Why not?”

“There have been many people approaching him, trying to find out answers about Disinigrite. He has received many threats to his life over the information that others think he has.”

“You mean the information that he surely has.” Chromus waved to the bartender, hoping to get something to drink.

“In either case, I do not know if you can see him.”

Chromus studied the program for a minute as the bartender placed two drinks before them. It was the glowing blue fluid that had saturated the bars of Glitchworld for almost a decade, Hona. He took a sip of his drink and placed it back down more firmly than he needed. “I will see The Splicer.”

“Chromus, I just said that I do not-”

“It was not a request. I am the king of this domain, and I command it.”

They sat in silence for a moment before the program grabbed his drink and drank more than half of it in a single gulp. “You command something that may cost me my life.”

“If you can deliver me to The Splicer, you will have a permanent place in my personal archives, but I must see him. There are more lives at stake than just yours.”

Malignus weighed his words, taking another, smaller sip from his drink. “When do you wish to see him?”

“Now.” Chromus took his drink and finished it, placing the glass upside down on the table and a blue poga on top.

Malignus did the same and stood from the table. “Follow me.”

They walked through the alleys, their identities hidden now under the masks of a wolf and a crow. They wove through the dwindling crowd towards the least packed alley in the Underground, Goga Street. Usually the place of the poor and the desperate, as well as the most delinquent of programs, it was the perfect hiding place. At least, it was until the outbreak of Disinigrite, the Corruption, XB-1. Now the street was filled with the dying and the afflicted.

Chromus created a communication pathway between him and Malignus. “Is there no way to help them?”

The connection was accepted and Malignus connected his mind to Chromus’. “There would be no point, there is no way to immunize against it. If they were cured, it would only return and kill them quicker.”

Chromus stopped and placed his hand on the program’s shoulder. “How do you know such things?”

“The Splicer will explain all.”

They continued walking down the alley. The closer they came to the end, the more it was crowded with dying humans and programs alike, the XB-1 virus slowly breaking down the functions of their minds. In humans, the virus attacked the electronic components that allowed them access to the Glitchworld construct, and as time went on, the mind web they wore would slowly degenerate to the point of death. In programs, the virus acted much in the way that neurodegenerative diseases acted in humans, breaking down memories and cognition to, again, the point of death.

The people in the alley were in all states of affliction. Some programs looked as they had before, their condition still in the early stages. Others, though, were nearing the end. The avatars of the programs in the late stages were warped and distorted, glitching in ways that defied description. Chromus wanted to look away, unable to bear the suffering of his subjects, but he looked on, he had to. If he was to save anybody, he first had to know what they were living through.

Malignus turned abruptly and grabbed Chromus by both of his shoulders. Without any warning, they were elsewhere, covered in darkness. Before Chromus could raise his concern, they were suddenly inside of a room plated in white metal and dark wood. Chromus turned and saw The Splicer sitting in a black thrones against the furthest wall of the room. The space was devoid of decoration, bearing only the plain white and dark patterns of wood.

“Malignus, what have you done?” The Splicer said, standing from his seat. He raised his hand, palm forward, and pointed it at the program.

Before anything could happen though, Chromus removed his mask and looked at The Splicer. “Do not harm him, he was only following the commands of his king.”

The Splicer turned his hand towards Chromus, a look of anger on his face. “Who are you to call yourself king, human. Who are you-”

Before he could finish speaking, Chromus altered the code of the room and pinned the program to the floor, his arms and legs stretched out painfully to his sides. “I call myself king because I am the king, program. Learn your place before you speak again.”

Chromus could feel The Splicer fighting his influence, and for a moment, he was worried that he would lose the confrontation, but after only a minute, he stopped fighting. Chromus let him up and walked past him to sit on the throne.

The Splicer stood and turned to look at the king, defeated. “What can I do for you, my king?”

“Tell me what you know about XB-1.”

The Splicer looked to Malignus with disgust, but turned back to Chromus without a word. “It is a super virus created by the Asher-Bailey Corporation.”

“I know that. I want you to tell me the specifics.” Chromus’ anger was not hidden, and before the program could speak again, Chromus raised his and and removed The Splicer’s arm, destroying the code. The Splicer screamed and fell to the ground, clutching the raw area where his arm had been. Before the pain could last too long, Chromus replaced the code in the program’s arm and leaned back. “Are we clear, now?”

The Splicer looked up at the human, no longer disgusted but afraid. He nodded quickly and stood. “XB-1 is an intelligent attack program. It replicates by converting base programs into itself, and it uses a new programming languages that I have never seen before.”

Chromus leaned forward and placed his chin on his fist. “Is there any way to stop it?”

“No. If there were a way to stop it, I would be a rich program and most likely king.” He saw the look on Chromus’ face and fell down to one knee. “The language the program uses shifts too quickly to create an anti-virus, and it is so foreign to the code of Glitchworld that it passes through any firewalls like a human through water.”

Chromus thought for a moment. “Is there any way to study the language of the virus?”

The Splicer shook his head. “You cannot study the virus without contracting it, at least in Glitchworld. Maybe if one were in the human world, you would be able to study it within a simulated construct, but to fully understand it, you would have to study the afflicted in real time, and study yourself as you became afflicted.”

Chromus nodded and stood. “Thank you, Splicer. I did not wish for this encounter to be unpleasant, and for the pain I caused you, I apologize.” He started walking back to Malignus.

The Splicer stood and turned towards him. “Chromus, wait.” He stopped to look at the program. “There is another property of the virus that I discovered in my observations. The virus is limited to anything attached to Glitchworld, but there seems to have been an unintended consequence during its creation.”

“What would that be?”

“It seems to… resonate.” The Splicer looked at the ground, unsure of his words.

“Resonate? What do you mean by that?”

“I have drone bodies in White Walk that I have used to study droids afflicted with the virus. Most of them are standard issue, but one of my drones has a thaumite core to protect it from mages.”

“The virus resonates with the thaumite core?” Chromus tried to keep his face passive, but the incredulity was apparent in his voice.

“That is my speculation, yes. Whenever I approached a droid that had the virus with my drone with the thaumite core, I could feel the core destabilizing, or at least being affected in some way by the proximity to the virus.”

Malignus stepped forward, breaking his silence. “What does this mean?”

The Splicer shrugged. “It could mean nothing, but it could also mean that every single unit of XB-1 is broadcasting a signal that resonates within the Azeronic Beam Field.”

The thoughts in Chromus’ head aligned perfectly. “If anything else resonates on the field, it would hear it. That must mean that the Prophets are aware of the virus and how powerful it is.”

The Splicer nodded. “Them and anything else that might be in tune with the field.”

Chromus nodded and turned back to Malignus. “Thank you, Splicer. The information you have given me will not be put to waste, and I will not forget it.” As Malignus grabbed Chromus by the shoulders to take him back to the Underground, he was already partitioning his archives to back up the lives of both programs.