Once upon a time, in an age long past.
There lived a remarkable and genius scientist.
When a dire crisis threatened her home and its people, she made a difficult decision to protect her territory and those around her.
The people placed their trust in her choice and strove to give their utmost. She, in turn, pushed herself relentlessly for the future, determined not to disappoint them.
But at some point, she wondered… would there truly be a tomorrow? Could life stand again after such a devastating catastrophe?
She carried that small doubt deep in her heart, unable to voice it to anyone.
**
During a short leave, I accompanied Doctor back to the factory we’d visited before. Even before I could push open the thick, old steel door, a blast of scorching air swept past my wings and shoved me forward.
The heat singed my lungs with every breath. Instead of the expected hum of drones, I heard lasers sear flesh and slice bone. One precise cut, and the severed limb dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, rattling the ground.
The laser cooled into a rest cycle, and a voice crackled over the intercom.
“You’ve arrived. Head upstairs to the spot you came last time.”
Unlike the sweltering exterior, the chamber beyond the stairwell remained cool. Operators wielded laser cannons as makeshift cutters, eyes glued to monitors, while engineers groaned over keels and frames, hastily reassembling the equipment.
“I didn’t think you’d come right away. Didn’t expect you until later this week.”
“Someone told me to organize my questions first. That’s why I’m late.”
Doctor gestured casually toward two mugs he’d set out in advance.
“Coffee. Our Q&A won’t take long, and you’re not rushing off immediately afterward, are you?”
“I’ll drink it gratefully.”
I sat and took a sip while Doctor flitted between complex spreadsheets and project plans, processing stacks of reports. His face hid behind a visor, but fatigue showed in the tremor of his posture.
“You still aren’t sleeping, are you? That’s also why you hesitated to meet Senior Operator.”
“Is that… one of your questions?”
He spoke with his usual half-smile and jest, but the tremor in his voice and the exhaustion he tried to mask betrayed his condition. I noticed changes: slimmer wrists, looser clothing, breath coming in ragged gasps.
“No. I have two questions. Shall I ask, or would you like to answer first?”
“I’ve already answered one. I’ll take the other now.”
Doctor withdrew a sheet from the stack with his gloved hand and handed it to me.
It detailed the subject currently being dissected beyond these walls.
“Manipulation of memory and cognition. Physical strength unmeasurable. Hallucinations—auditory and visual. Neural interfacing to control non-sentient constructs. Plus multiple compound abilities.”
Astonishing that all this derived from a single organism. Truly, this world harbored marvels.
“As you see, it can read, alter, and erase memories. The moment it spoke our language, we were certain.”
Doctor continued without glancing up from other files.
“The plan’s core is: leaks are fine. Agents under its influence already provided intel. What puzzled us was its lingering curiosity—an almost friendly interest toward us. We needed someone with minimal mental resistance to test it. Only four here possess that level of will.”
“Me, Doctor, the Priestess, and the Director.”
Senior Operator had to be ruled out—her vulnerability to psychic assault made her unsuitable.
“I understand why you chose me. But why keep me in the dark?”
“We feared the fragment within you might surrender its resistance. And if that happened, you’d dismiss our sincerity as a mere game. I should have told you, but the Priestess strongly objected. The Director’s workload was heavier than mine.”
Doctor offered me a wry smile.
“Does that answer satisfy you? I’m still amazed it feels no pain despite full consciousness. Everything but bodily function remains intact. This place truly harbors extraordinary lifeforms.”
“It’s sufficient. Doctor, I’ll see you after my leave. Once that ends, it’ll be quite some time before I return.”
As I rose, Doctor called after me.
“Take care.”
A month later—
Amid the swarm of drones and robots transferring equipment onto the completed [Rhodes Island], I watched researchers cluster like fledglings leaving the nest.
Colleagues who seldom spoke due to differing specialties now gathered in a corner, sharing weary smiles and sleepless nights spent watching their systems depart safely.
I sipped cocoa with them, overhearing their hushed talk. Their minds circled one thought.
The [Preservation Protocol].
It was the first initiative drafted to preserve humanity—managing multiple sarcophagi. It had sunk under protest, resurfaced, and now this ark intended to carry mankind down the river of time.
They wondered when Doctor would resurrect that plan and build a cruel altar of sacrifice.
“I… couldn’t do it. Not because my mental barrier is weak, but because I lack patience.”
“I saw Emul volunteer to the Seer last time. They refused, but Emul’s resolve didn’t waver.”
“Is this just the same record skipping—who will be the next sacrifice? Doesn’t it feel like our own dirge?”
We sat in silence, the temperature as cold as the cocoa in our mugs.
When the last warmth drained and our cups ran empty, we parted without a word and returned to the research block.
Wandering the corridors, lost in memories, my terminal buzzed with a message from Doctor.
“Report to my office immediately.”
Without hesitation, I sprinted down the hall to his office.
I had no thoughts beyond that. With Doctor, I always deduced context after the fact. I knocked on his door.
“Come in. You’re late. Were you outside?”
Doctor welcomed me calmly. Despite urging haste, he showed no tension.
“What should I do now?”
“Just stand behind me. That’s all. Relax.”
His office, usually cluttered, lay in meticulous order. He paused to catch his breath, adjusted the furniture, glanced toward the door, and sat down.
He toyed with a blank sheet and doodled in the air with a pen, feigning busyness.
“What’s happening? Are you watching me too now?”
“I did once, long ago. Not anymore. Look straight ahead.”
Following his gaze to the wall, I heard resolute footsteps outside.
He’d been waiting for this. He’d recognize those strides as mine.
The door opened without a reply. A solemn middle-aged man stepped in.
I already knew who he was.
“Priston, knock before entering. Didn’t I tell your daughter that?”
“Of course, Seer. But there’s no need to mention it now.”
Trevor Preynote, strong AI designer.
One of the proposers of the [Preservation Protocol].
“Since you’re here, I’ll skip pleasantries. We weren’t prepared enough. In the end, someone must make the necessary choice.”
“You know that isn’t a choice but a forced resolve. You delude yourself into thinking duty, family, and humanity forged your determination.”
“No, it isn’t. If it were, why would I abandon my family and endure this endless wandering and penance?”
Priston shifted his gaze from Doctor to meet mine. Surprise flickered, then he regarded Doctor with hollow resignation.
“You knew.”
“Someone closest to your struggle told me. You asked them to stop you.”
“Will you?”
Doctor halted his motions, voice strained.
“A few days ago, we realized that a debate can function as genuine dialogue.”
“You mean you want to exchange thoughts.”
Doctor activated a device, and they spoke for a long while.
When the debate ended, Priston spoke first.
“Ha! What fools! Really, what fools! I never want to work with such a fool again! Even if that fool is the last person trying to save civilization in the universe!”
He laughed as if relieved and departed. Tear stains marked his eyes.
“I feel sorry for his wife, but at least I left him with a comforting lie.”
Later, as he drifted to sleep, I read his recollection of this day in his journal.
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