‘I don’t get it, what’s it doing? It feels like its energy is…’
‘Traversing,’ she finished for him. ‘I’m its pet, to it. Its doll. It’s building me a doll house. Buying the furniture, as it were, piece by piece. It….it assimilates data, somehow. It reconstrues people’s actions and reorganizes their moves on our plane of existence. For some reason, it’s taken an apparent fascination to me. It can’t interact physically, but it learned to puppet people. So….occasionally, it puppets events into scenes it wants played out.’ She looked at the shimmering shape in the sky. No one else could see it, but it was reflected in her eye.