A voice. A choice. An invitation.
The Vex Goblin waded into the lake of radiolaria with the same unerring purpose to which it approached all things. As directed, as designed. Its own mass of radiolaria crawled and coiled through its body like worms through the thick soil of Nessus. Its Mind was elsewhere, the great roots of thought buried deep into it and every other Vex enslaved beneath it.
The soft shimmer of white enveloped the Vex up to its knee joint. Then a hand reached out to it. The Vex felt a press against its cranium. A thumbprint. An activation code. Biometric data. The radiolaria inside it lit up with activity and noise, burning through its metal body.
Then, disarticulated. It trembled and fell apart; limbs unjoined, chassis cracked and curled. A globule of radiolaria disseminated throughout the lake, reclaimed.
But something called it to rise.
Then, rejoined. Its pieces slotted together and moved flawlessly. It rose steadily, balanced, formed with utter perfection. The radiolaria slid from its body in droplets that separated, reformed, separated, reformed.
Each one a mind. Each mind a thought.
The Vex felt the soft split of its own mind as that thought sharpened in its cranium. A burst of light. A sharp spark.
A choice.
It looked to its creator and bowed.