[D_23: Kovačnica: Remont Biološkog Stroja // Blacksmith's shop: Repair of biological machinery]
SUBJEKT: REMONT SUSTAVA (Unos: Dan 4/10)
LOKACIJA: Kovačnica Bijele Tišine.
STATUS: Kalibracija u tijeku.
Kad prijeđeš prag, vanjski svijet staje. Nema notifikacija. Nema buke asfalta. Postoji samo Bijela komora i zvuk teškog disanja. Ovdje ne dolazim po utjehu. Dolazim po čelik.
I. RUKE NA OKLOPU (Mehanika)
Ležim. Prepušten tuđim rukama. To nisu ruke masera, to su ruke Mehaničara koji poznaje zamor materijala. Zahvat je dubok, prodire kroz kožu, kroz meso, sve do one točke gdje se struktura savila pod teretom godina.
Osjećam kako prsti – poput alata za obradu hladnog metala – traže hrđu. Traže onaj čvor. Onu grešku u kodu. Pucketanje koje čujem nije lom kostiju. To je zvuk starog "ja" koji popušta. Zvuk oklopa koji se ravna pod silom. Bol? Bol je ovdje samo telemetrija. Podatak da je sustav još uvijek živ.
II. NEVIDLJIVA VATRA (Optika)
A onda... ulazak u prsten. Vezan plavim trakama, gledam u Crveno oko. Ne peče. Ne grije. Nema miris dima, ali ovo je vatra. Nevidljivi laser koji ne vari metal, već samo vrijeme. Prodire ravno u onaj moj kavez dimenzija 16x3 milimetra. U tu mitsku pukotinu na peti.
Dok ležim u magnetskom tunelu, u tom tehnološkom sarkofagu, ne molim za čudo. Čuda su za one koji čekaju. Ovdje se ne čeka. Ovdje se vari.
III. KIBORG (Sinteza)
Dok crveno oko skenira i popravlja, shvaćam što postajem.
Mi smo motori s unutarnjim izgaranjem, a ovo je servisna stanica za dušu.
///
Kotači Tišine.
ENGLISH VERSION [CLICK TO EXPAND]
SUBJECT: SYSTEM OVERHAUL (Entry: Day 4/10)
LOCATION: The Smithy of White Silence.
STATUS: Calibration in progress.
This is not a spa. There are no scented candles here, no soft jazz to lull your caution to sleep. This is the Forge.
When you cross the threshold, the outside world stops. No notifications. No noise of the asphalt. There is only the White Chamber and the sound of heavy breathing. I do not come here for comfort. I come for steel.
I. HANDS ON THE ARMOR (Mechanics)
I lie down. Surrendered to foreign hands. These are not the hands of a masseur; they are the hands of a Mechanic who understands material fatigue. The grip is deep, penetrating through skin, through flesh, all the way to that point where the structure bent under the weight of years.
I feel fingers – like tools for cold metal working – seeking out the rust. Searching for that knot. That error in the code. The cracking I hear is not the breaking of bones. It is the sound of the old "self" giving way. The sound of armor being straightened by force. Pain? Pain here is merely telemetry. Data that the system is still alive.
II. INVISIBLE FIRE (Optics)
And then... entry into the ring. Bound by blue straps, I stare into the Red Eye. It doesn't burn. It doesn't warm. There is no smell of smoke, but this is fire nonetheless. An invisible laser that welds not metal, but time itself. It penetrates straight into that cage of mine, dimensions 16x3 millimeters. Into that mythical fissure on the heel.
As I lie in the magnetic tunnel, in that technological sarcophagus, I do not pray for a miracle. Miracles are for those who wait. Here, we do not wait. Here, we weld.
III. CYBORG (Synthesis)
As the red eye scans and repairs, I realize what I am becoming.
Lying here, connected to devices sending frequencies through my tissue, the line between man and machine becomes blurred. We are cyborgs, only no one told us. We patch ourselves with plastic, titanium, and beams of light.
The body is a biological machine. Sometimes it rusts. Sometimes it fails.
But the machine is not discarded. The machine is forged.
This is not healing. This is an upgrade. A software and hardware update to endure more miles.
We are internal combustion engines, and this is the service station for the soul.
///
Ten laps in this forge. Ten mornings of silence and "torture".
I step outside. The air is cold.
The asphalt doesn't ask if you were broken. The asphalt only asks if you are ready.
The tendon is silent. The circle is closed.
Wheels of Silence.