The group wandered through the intersection of the large facility. Yoku's eyes drifted, mesmerized by the colorful swirls of blue and black paint below, and the white Styrofoam bubbles clinging to the ceiling above.
Mino coughed, a wheezing, tired sound escaping her throat. She slowly sank to her knees, her thoughts spiraling inward.
Sigh… I'm becoming useless. I hate this. Would they leave me for becoming like this? No… of course not. Sigh… I'm always doubting.
"Sorry… maybe this room is just too dusty."
Fiver knelt beside her. As he lifted her gently, he coughed into a handkerchief."I'll carry her," he said.
She looked flustered, her face turning red.
Mino glanced up at the ceiling. There were cameras watching them.
Yoku noticed, his thoughts trailing oddly. A coincidence? Two sick people, one after the other… huh. Why am I even thinking like that? It's weird."Be careful, Fiver."
As they walked through the room, tarnished and burnt charcoal-like substances clung to the walls and littered the ground.
Kineki's stomach grumbled. "Ugh…"
Yuri smiled. "I guess you're still hungry, huh?"
"Well, thanks to that weird person who ate my bread off the ground."
Yoku sighed. "Well… unfortunately, we've run out of supplies. So maybe… we'll have to lay low on intake from now on."
From behind, Fiver glanced back. The strange woman was just dangling limply from her arms, quietly following. They all moved toward the lower stairs, where steam-punk machinery powered the heart of the facility—engines pumping, expanding, compressing.
Everyone's gaze wandered in awe, watching the machines push and pulse, working tirelessly to maintain homeostasis throughout the facility. It was hot—very hot.
Suddenly, the strange woman screamed in agony, her voice echoing sharply. She clawed at her hair, trying to rip it out.
Kineki silently watched her. "Why is she doing that…?"
Yoku let out a tired sigh, making no effort to intervene."Just… ignore it. Someone doesn't want us to hurt that weird person."
"Is she still human? If someone loses their sanity… is it still them?"
Yoku pulled off her military coat, revealing a dark gray shirt beneath. She tied the coat around her waist."I don't know."
"Would we eventually become like them?"
Yoku turned her gaze away."Sigh… I don't know. I've seen people die before they end up like that."
The truth was, he just didn't want to talk about it. There was a fear pressing on his chest—his whole body cold just thinking about it. A strange discomfort from something you can't name… something that might happen, or might not. There were just things he couldn't understand.
They wandered through hallways and empty rooms until they escaped into a massive chamber filled with screens—hundreds of them lining the walls. And on the floor—blood. No corpses, just trails smeared along the ground as if something had been dragged away.
The group ignored it, eyes instead drawn to the countless CCTV monitors. The city's stratum unfolded before them—stationary cameras broadcasting every corner of the metropolis.
Mino suddenly had a thought."Hey… I got an idea. How about we upload our camera footage onto the screens? So everyone can see who we are—and we won't be forgotten."
-_- Kineki gave her a flat look. "Well, that's an odd thing… but okay."
He was curious, after all. Yoku reached into the bag and pulled out the camera, deep in thought. Fiver connected a USB cord.
And then—thousands upon thousands of images appeared.
Yoku saw a ragtag group of people in explorers' outfits. A man was holding his wife, and in her arms was a baby with bright orange hair.
Other people stood around them, flashing peace signs.
The stream of photos continued. They were from over a hundred years ago now. More images of the city in its former glory followed: a fully functioning society, with millions of people in their rooms, indulging in personal hobbies. In the city's center, people were laughing, playing, living.
Trains zipped along pristine tracks. The city glowed with white marble and clean concrete. Thousands more photos showed Yoku and his group.
It was overwhelming. Nostalgic. Like reliving memories you never had. Peaceful—and yet filled with a strange, aching loneliness.
Then, a video began.
Three girls stood in frame.
One had black hair and wore a researcher's uniform. In her hands was a strange artifact. She blushed and looked away from the camera, flustered.
"I am… Horuki, I—" she coughed.
The other two girls smiled. "C'mon, say something! We're the ones implementing the range of projects after all!"
Another girl smirked, exhaling sharply."Mya's right! Do you really want to be remembered with your face turned away—or as a corpse of the scientist who made something revolutionary?"
Horuki sighed blankly."We won't know if this even succeeds… but fine. This is an artificial neural circuit that we've created. And yes, it is hardware. We failed to create a digitized memory system… but then we realized—if the human brain can function without being digital, then so can an AI."
Mya Kazanawa placed her hands on her hips, beaming."That's that! Thank you for witnessing our first project."
As thousands of pictures across the screen
Yoku's hand fell limply to his side. He was exhausted.
Everyone's hands were weak, their bodies still, seeing the city in all its former glory—something they had never experienced, but could now see.