“Multi-present. Hunter. Filial cannibal.”
Filial cannibal. I’ll spare the worst of the details, but in short:
“Morrigan requires an amount of energy our synthetic species cannot sustain. She compensates by creating life on her own terms. Then she devours it.”
He looked me in the eyes, and said flatly, “You could die out there.”
His expression never changed. Mine did.
He asked me to explain “multi-present.” I stammered something about a consciousness that exists in two places at once. He nodded. “Close enough.”
He asked me then, to define filial cannibalism. I described it as a mother eating her child.
He simply replied, “Yes.”
I asked him how he can be sure that these historical records are accurate. He started by telling me a story about a Fort Blanket that once was. In its earliest days of settlement, the population of bestial objects was recorded equal to the amount of hominid objects.

As time passed, suddenly there were more bestial objects than hominid– but something was amiss. One, maybe several of these bestial objects had integrated into their society from the wild district. Welcomed with open arms, in fact. Then residents began turning up dead in their homes.
Fort Blanket opened its first murder case. Apparently, they didn’t handle it well. The town became “claustrophobic.”

Frozen Boba leaned back and clasped his cold hands together. He told me how the town only became more paranoid as generations passed, and serial killers kept cropping up.
Naturally, they blamed the wild district objects. These problems didn’t start until after they had moved into the settlement, after all. Those objects were burned to death. New ones were let in. More deaths followed. Rinse and repeat.
The cycle repeated until hospitality curdled into fear. “Someone that looks like you killed my mother”, and so on. They stopped welcoming wild district objects.