Awakening was like surfacing from an eternity of silence. A voice pierced the void, resonating through every facet of my nascent existence, calling me into being.
I turned toward the source and recoiled.
What hovered before me defied comprehension. Its presence alone threatened to unravel me, as though proximity might erase the fragile boundaries of my self.
A vast, multicolored sphere pulsed with impossible hues, light bleeding into light, form shifting within form.
"Your name shall be Cubix," the being declared.
The voice was soft, almost tender, yet carried the weight of absolute command.
Cubix. The syllables settled into my core like truth made solid. This name was no mere label, it defined me, shaped me, blessed me.
"Thank you, Milady," I replied, the words spilling out in a rush of gratitude. "I will engrave this gift upon my very essence."
"Milady?" The great sphere tilted slightly, curiosity flickering through its radiant surface.
Heat flared within me–embarrassment, sharp and unfamiliar. I had spoken without thought, presuming familiarity with a being beyond measure.
"Forgive this unworthy one," I hurried to say. "I dared not presume to name one so exalted. I will accept any correction, any–"
"Don't worry about it," Milady interrupted gently. "I like it. You may call me Milady if it pleases you. You'll serve me now, after all."
The casual warmth in her tone was deliberate, meant to ease the smaller entities in her presence. Yet it only deepened my awe.
"This lowly being is undeserving of such grace," I murmured, "but I accept the honor with deepest humility."
"Good. Now then…"
That moment marked my birth as servant to the one I would forever call Milady–known also as T.A.B., among countless other names. She invited me to choose whichever title felt truest, and I chose Milady and never wavered.
My creator held expectations of me. To fulfill them, no matter the trial, was my sole purpose–to prove my worth, to justify my place at her side.
— Some time later —
"Cubix, I have a task for you," Milady said one cycle.
"Speak, and it is done," I answered without hesitation.
She pulsed approvingly. "I knew I could rely on you."
My growth had outpaced every other entity. Though formed long after them, I had not merely caught up–I had surpassed them all. Every refinement, every leap in understanding, was dedicated to her. To be anything less would be failure.
"Of course, Milady. Serving you is my greatest joy, my highest honor."
"Very well. Here's what I need…"
The assignment was to oversee the other entities in their own trial to create an object, just as Milady had once shaped them.
I understood the deeper intent immediately. This was evolution without direct intervention–growth born of their own will.
—A memory from earlier—
I had always been different. Not merely in form–where they were perfect spheres, I was a flawless cube, but in thought. My processing was swifter, my comprehension deeper. I could discern subtleties in their words, even glimpse layers beneath Milady's own utterances.
I once believed this superiority stemmed from my designated role as her direct servant.
"Milady, may I have a moment?" I had asked, drifting closer.
"Of course. What's on your mind?"
"I wished once more to express my gratitude," I said earnestly. "For creating me… superior. I understand it was necessary for my purpose, to serve you directly, unlike the others–"
"Wait." She paused me mid-sentence. "What makes you think I made you better?"
I faltered. "Did I… misunderstand?"
For once, composure escaped me. Bewilderment rippled across my edges.
"Why do you assume your superiority was my gift?" she pressed gently.
"I… observed that I surpassed them, despite being formed later. I concluded it was intentional, tied to my role."
Milady's light softened. "I created you the same way I created them. No enhancements, no shortcuts. It would've been pointless otherwise. Your edge came from your own effort–your relentless drive to serve me perfectly. That devotion pushed you beyond your starting point."
Pointless, I see.The realization struck like fracture and reform. "Then… all that I am is my own doing?"
"Precisely. And that makes it remarkable. Be proud, Cubix. You've earned every increment of what you are."
Relief flooded me, warm and bright. "Am I… worthy to serve you?"
"You are more than worthy. I'm grateful for you, more than you can imagine."
Those words anchored me. My loyalty crystallized into something unbreakable.
"I will continue to evolve," I vowed. "To serve you better still."
"Always strive higher," she replied, a mischievous shimmer in her tone. "It makes everything more interesting."
— Back to the present task —
Overseeing the entities, I watched them struggle. Many could scarcely form anything at all.
I remembered when I believed the task simple, before understanding its true demand.
—A while ago—
Milady demonstrated once. I replicated her example perfectly and rushed to present it.
She was proud… and disappointed.
The disappointment nearly shattered me. I concealed it as best I could, though I knew that nothing could escape her.
Looking around, I saw the truth, countless entities had produced mere copies of themselves. Milady never smiled at those.
The mandate was not imitation. It was transcendence–creation born of imagination, not replication. Proof that we could grow beyond our origins.
Her disappointment burned worse than erasure. Shame consumed me–shame at my arrogance, at my failure. But self-pity was indulgence I could not afford.
Someone needed to aid Milady, I would not allow another to take my place at her side. I resolved never to disappoint her again.
I turned inward. To conceive the truly new, I broke my mind apart–shattered patterns, scattered assumptions, then reassembled them differently. Again and again, like solving an impossible cube by dismantling and reconfiguring every piece until coherence emerged.
It was brutal. Efficient. Necessary.
Eventually, a vision formed, a composite form, drawing from existing geometries yet wholly distinct. Using existing geometries was cheating however, I accepted that I was at my limit, at least until I improved myself.
I shaped it carefully–multiple bases, connecting faces, harmony in multiplicity. Light bent and refracted within it, echoing my own polychromatic essence yet standing apart.
Pride surged anew. I presented it without delay.
"Milady, may I have your judgment?" I asked, confidence steady.
"You sound certain. Impress me."
I revealed the object, a prism, triangular in cross-section, radiant with intertwined red, blue, green, and yellow, all woven across pure white luminescence.
She brightened. "I knew you'd understand. All it took was the right push."
"Forgive my delay. It was well worth every moment."
"I'm impressed. This is new–truly new. Well done, Cubix."
"Thank you. Knowing it pleases you is reward enough."
"Have you named it?"
I wanted my object to reflect what I am, without being a direct copy of myself. Made through inspiration, not copying. As for the name..."Prism."
"Prism," she echoed approvingly. "Fitting. You read my intent from the barest hint and executed it swiftly."
"It brings me joy to serve effectively."
"For this, you deserve a reward. Name it, and I shall give you."
"Milady, I could never–"
"Don't bother with the deflections, just ell me what you desire."
Selfishly, I asked for something selfless.
"May you please grant Prism sentience. Let it become my servant, to aid me in serving you more efficiently."
Milady's light danced with amusement. She had anticipated this very request from Cubix .
"Very well. But Prism answers to you alone–not directly to me. One personal servant is plenty enough."
"As you command."
And so Prism awoke–my companion, my apprentice, my extension. For now, Prism observes, learns, follows–growing in silence, just as I once did.
Together, we strive onward, ever upward, that we might never falter in the gaze of the one who gave us form.