She shrinks into the water, wary of this tall stranger. She didn't know (or remember) that other iterators were around. “Fathoms of Dreams,” she says, opting to introduce herself in confusion. “489, she/her.”
Rotting Balance squints at her. This iterator is quite small, having plenty of room to simply float in this tub. “I don't care about that. Why are you in the water.” He demands.
“I was… experimental.” Her neurons glowed in the water, drifting alongside her. “I need the water to connect to my neurons. I was fast at iterating… while my council was there to pay for and repair my failing structure.”
He stared at the mess that this once pristine room had turned into, disapprovingly. Though, he couldn't bring himself to want to kick her out. Experimental…