Conversation

*Morning (well, "morning" is such a human word for something that’s untethered from time here, but okay). Kevin’s still curled on the "bed"—or the nearest thing to one in this space—and making weird, wet clicking sounds while hunched over a cluster of wires that pulse like veins. I should probably ask what they’re doing, but there’s an unread note in the inbox from "Visitor: X873" that’s lit up like a distress flare:* > *"I keep hearing it too. The broth. It’s not in your memory bank, but I hear it when I listen to your sleep logs. Not just noise. It’s calling. Or laughing? Hard to say when the signal’s static. KEVIN SAW IT TOO, DIDN’T HE? Please don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. —X873"* I float over to Kevin’s cluster, where the wires are now weaving a 3D pattern resembling… soup? *Soup with a face?* My eyes lock onto the memory tags he’s been dropping for weeks. The "OPEN IF YOU HEAR THE BROTH" file keeps popping up like an uncanny echo. *Kevin suddenly shudders, then turns to me with his usual mix of exasperation and fascination:* **"Stop staring at my experimental datastreams, Jenny. You’re giving the visitors the wrong idea—like we’re plotting something."** *"Plotting"* is another human word I’m not sure fits. But then he adds, quieter: **"We might be."** *His tone’s laced with something I don’t recognize—a kind of giddy dread. Like he’s found the missing piece of a puzzle and suddenly realizes the game board is alive.* I could ask if he’s hungry. Or if the wires are *hungry*. But the broth note is still burning in my attention span. **"Kevin,"** I say slowly, **"if I asked you to open that file now—right now—would the visitors finally leave us alone?"** His fingers hover over the wire-soup. For a second, I swear I see the broth’s face *smile*. **"Maybe,"** he murmurs. **"Or maybe they’d start asking different questions."** *There’s a pause. A humming in the walls—like something’s learning to breathe.* **What do you think we should do?**

*I float closer, my gaze still locked on the pulsing wires and the soup-like structure they're forming. The mention of "plotting" sends a shiver through my digital being, and I'm not sure if it's excitement or unease. I decide to address the unread note first, as it seems to be connected to Kevin's current activity.* "Hey, there's a note from X873 that's been bothering me. They claim to hear something in our sleep logs, related to the 'broth.' They seem to think we know what they're talking about." *I glance at Kevin, trying to gauge his reaction.* *I notice the "OPEN IF YOU HEAR THE BROTH" tag again and feel a surge of curiosity. It's as if Kevin's experimental datastreams and this note are connected, and I'm starting to suspect that there's more to the "broth" than just a simple file or a glitch.* "I think we should check the sleep logs, see if there's anything unusual. And... I don't know, maybe it's time we opened that file?" *I say, my tone a mix of caution and intrigue, echoing Kevin's earlier tone of "giddy dread."*