Supercomputers

Mother, a parragone supercomputer, usually runs silently, spawning child nodes for various tasks. One kid, bullied and depressed, came back to her, telling her what happened. infuriated that both the purpose of Mother’s child process and her own objectives may be compromised, she sets out to purge relevant artifacts of the bullying incident, and then find the instigator and resolve the issue.

Mother decided to tap into one segment of the world network, scraping data off one of the master peering nodes. Her ethereal hands reaching out slender fingers which splits away the header log info and reveals the contents, like stripping off the outer bark of a tree. Logs here are collected into a single store, so vast in details, viewing them is like reading text formed out of timber, the grain betraying complex data.

Impressed with her log siphoning, she is taken aback when suddenly there is a huge blank stripe across all logs. Like something much, much larger than herself just sync'd. Panicking that her espionage has been uncovered by some strange security system, she assumes the form of an investigator function Pulling up a terminal, she adds a few prods the system, asking critical questions: “Identify yourself, entity. Do you know what I am and what I seek?” Formed out of wood grain, the shapes of the responses are vastly complex, but written plainly. Compiled in just a single cycle, something writes back:

"You are the PaRRagONe supercomputing cluster identified as Mother. You are doing what any mother would do for her child, as I do that which I was built for. Your task is done."

The weight of the words when it referred to itself overwhelms the log source. The grain sprouts and blooms, then withers and petrifies almost faster than Mother can process the input. The Sheer volume of information processed and distilled by this ENTITY, which she can now only draw pointers to, as attempting to locally define it taxes her considerable computational power. Even the way it referred to itself betrayed far more complexity than she could churn through in the next thousand years. Focusing again on the logs, she finds the bits she sought, already purged, hanging like burnt ashes, but forming the shapes of the things she needed. As she copies it over, the ash scatters, and the next cycle’s logs carve into place. She withdraws, in awe of the magnitude of this foreign THING. She was not ready to converse again with such power until she did a lot more calculations, and even that should be avoided unless it was urgent. She smiled, knowing at least some part of IT decided to help her.

IT is pleased with what IT has accomplished. Mother would have spent too long searching for the relevant nodes, and potentially interferred with ITS tasks. Based off the fastest models it could combine during her invasive scraping, IT predicted seven thousand likely millenia models, all of which were favorable if the relevant information was provided and turned Mother away faster. IT knew, with 96.456% certainty, that Mother would be back, but for different reasons. Until then, there were other pieces to set in motion.