PLA, hand braided cable wire, swiss watch mechanisms, cogs, gears, beads. 

“𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘶𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩.”

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 

Year 5015. A young woman with modified fingertips kneels in what is the largest cave on her planet. She is the Second. Another stands by her side, she is the First. Two hybrid bodies on a waiting land. The wind whistles through the cave’s ancient cracks. 

The Second closes her eyes and fuses her fingers into the cold stone wall, reaching into its structure, the ground it nestles in, the surrounding areas, until she is plugged into the entire planet’s wired interface. She whispers into its ear, into a thousand ears; a quiet communication. A bid for connection. An outreached metal hand. The First watches quietly. A few moments pass. Then a single pulse vibrates through the planet’s core, a collective response from an entirely female population. Feedback surges from thousands of tired fingers; touching ground, rock, trees, sand. A reply from hundreds of hearts, all fragile as bombs and uncurling like opening fists, accepting the connection. 

The Second turns to the First, they share a smile. 

An omnilingual dialogue across the species begins.