Cockroach crawled through the ruins, eyes fixed on a faintly glowing fragment. It extended its antennae.
Suddenly, the Guardian appeared—its body dark like smoke, hands like chains. Its eyes glowed, piercing the darkness.
> "It won't be that easy," thought Cockroach.
As its antennae touched the fragment, the Guardian struck. The fragment vibrated, energy blasting toward it. It was pushed back, nearly falling into the ash chasm, antennae trembling in panic.
> "Damn, this is tough — how do I trick this bastard?!"
Day after day, it experimented: touching the fragment briefly, retreating when the Guardian approached, trying new rhythms, waiting for openings. Each attempt partially failed, each gave a little understanding.
> "I'm beginning to understand… each fragment has its own guardian. I must be clever, not strong."
With patience, it could touch the fragment longer without being knocked back, feeling the first real spark of energy—still weak. The ambition remained, but growth was gradual and realistic.