The area was known on old maps as "Sector 19B." Now it was called something else: the Rift Zone. Here, the usual rules didn't apply—instead, entirely different ones did.
On a wall, words were scrawled one over the other, creating confusion. Some were clear messages, others just nonsense ramblings.
"The one with the hammer only comes if you don't ask for forgiveness."
Someone had added: "Does the Fixer only punish the lack of remorse?"
"Don't try to fix what's permanently broken."
The same person added: "Lost love shouldn't be rebuilt, but accepted as part of inner growth."
"Spirals never fully close."
Someone else added: "Nothing ends completely, but continues in hidden forms."
In the center stood a massive structure. An industrial hall built from train parts, car doors, and hospital beds. Above the entrance:
"The Correction Lab"
Morgana saw the building Philip had described. She entered.
A distant sound came from somewhere below. Like a hammer tapping slowly, rhythmically, from deep down.
Down to the left of the elevator access, in a corner, was an old box with brass hinges. She opened it. Inside, a decayed human tooth. Engraved on it: "Not everything broken can be fixed." This is the tooth from the Bone Judge's scale, Morgana thought.
Morgana stepped into the central room.
There he was.
The Fixer didn't look like anything she could have expected. He had an asymmetrical body. Pieces of iron and humans mixed. A doctor's coat with a chest pocket. A badge hung there. Instead of a mask, he wore a face made from three different faces. In his right hand, he held the hammer.
When he saw her, he stopped.
"Good day, Patient Morgana. You didn't have an appointment, but all the documents specify that you have priority. Did you come to see if I've kept the collection?"
Morgana didn't answer right away. Her gaze slid to the workbench.
A human eye was placed in a small incubator, the pupil dilating and contracting rhythmically.
"I'm not a patient," she said. "And I don't need fixing."
"That's exactly what every major defect says. A clear denial, typical of deep disturbance. Do you know why you're called Morgana?" he asked, touching a control button on his left forearm. "Because you're an error that became useful. Like me. Tell me, why do you intend to resist? What do you have that's whole inside you, something you can't let go of?"
"Nothing's whole in me anymore," she said. "And that makes me perfect. You're not a counselor. Not a technician. What's your specialty?"
"I'm the technician for the new protocol," he said, moving his fingers slightly. "I'm the fixer. I'm here to repair the damage. You're a major test subject, one of the most advanced units ever built, and your cooperation is important."
"You think you can fix the damage, the chaos, the confusion? How? The protocol was just a theory."
"The protocol remained an experimental unit," he said. "It's being field-tested. The protocol has already fixed unimaginable defects."
"I'll destroy you."
"You don't have the resources, the skill, or the support to defeat me, Morgana. It won't happen."
"It will happen," she said. "I'll make it happen."
"It's impossible, illogical. Not a valid statement. That's what I'm trying to explain to you."
He pulled a tool from his belt, pointed it at her, and pressed a button.
Morgana felt a sudden shock in her chest and stumbled. She tried to get up, but her legs wouldn't obey.
"Don't worry," he said. "It'll only take a few minutes."
He touched the control buttons on his forearm, then pulled a small disc from his tool belt and attached it to her chest. He took out a flat screen and started typing on it.
Morgana could barely move. She couldn't even turn her head.
"It'll be quick," he said. "It doesn't even hurt."
She focused her thoughts, channeling all her energy into her mind.
The Fixer laughed.
"I rebuilt every joint in your body in the White Room. I know how you move better than you do. And especially how you think."
His hammer struck her hip. Six needles pierced her, injecting a liquid that locked her right leg.
Morgana swallowed the pain and the impact like old acquaintances she'd adapted to. She used the fall to twist her body, then jumped onto the workbench. She grabbed the eye from the incubator and crushed it under her heel. The Fixer howled.
"That was your first real reaction. You were guarding your last human part like a treasure."
Then, the spiral opened. Morgana struck decisively.
The hammer melted. The Fixer fell to his knees.
The last thing the Fixer saw was his own face, reflected in the tooth that Morgana had thrown to the floor earlier. It was the Fixer's first lost tooth, recovered from a former dentist's collection in Cintra.
Then, he vanished. The world reorganized around her.
But something remained. Morgana held a fragment of the mask in her hand. The spiral symbol was inscribed on the inside, like a message for her.
The message was simple:
What can't be fixed multiplies.