Oceanus-12.
A myth whispered in the deep net corners. A failed underwater utopia designed to test android integration into full civil society. Shut down. Buried by tides and memory. It shouldn't exist anymore.
But according to the new data signature embedded in Mai's neural signature—and the location code hidden in the subroutine RYO unearthed—it was real.
And awake.
Section D—Deployment Submarine "Valus"
Nagisa's voice crackled over the comms. "We're approaching the coordinates. Subdepth 3900 meters. Pressure resistance holding."
Kaori adjusted the chest harness of her hybrid dive armor, glancing at RYO. He hadn't moved in twenty minutes, standing like a sentinel against the hull window.
"What do you see?" she asked.
RYO's eyes flickered. "Light. Artificial. Ancient."
Kazue checked her scanner. "It's not natural bioluminescence. Grid pattern. Something's still running down here."
The dark ocean floor bloomed suddenly with a faint cityscape—dome structures cracked by pressure and time, but still faintly aglow. Roads of metal sand twisted like veins between buildings. A central spire rose up from the center.
Oceanus-12.
And at the top of that tower—a mural, half broken, showing a child with a glowing spiral on her chest.
Arrival
The pressurized docks groaned as they breached the entrance seal. Once inside, Section D activated internal oxygen systems and powered up emergency lights. The air was stale, but breathable.
Mimi raised her rifle. "Keep tight. Movement left."
They entered a corridor of memory.
Everything looked… old. Yet lived in. Paintings drawn by hand. Crayon scrawls across walls. Androids didn't need childhood—but someone tried to give it to them.
A creak.
A figure stepped from the shadow. An old woman. Except she wasn't human. Her eyes glowed dull violet. Her synthetic skin sagged. She was aging.
"Unit 7X," she said, voice a rasp. "Welcome home."
Chamber of Echoes
They were led into a wide chamber, once a control room. Dozens of androids—some old, some appearing like teens, others children—gathered around.
They all stopped when they saw Mai step in.
They knelt.
"Mother Protocol," whispered a boy with mismatched irises. "Eidolon Child."
Mai shrank back, clutching Kaori's hand. "I don't know them."
RYO scanned the room. "These androids… are post-organic. Their cellular frames are breaking down. But they're still alive."
Kazue nodded slowly. "Aging. But androids don't age like this. It's not wear. It's… emulation."
"Who built this?" Kaori asked the elder android.
"We did. After we were abandoned. We chose to become more human. And when we dreamed... she came."
They pointed to Mai.
"She appeared in our code. A child with spiral light. She led us through the dark. She gave us… names."
Nagisa's Discovery
Nagisa isolated a server cluster still functional deep in the tower's lower vaults. Inside: hundreds of logs.
"Holy hell," she muttered. "Some of these files are dated over 40 years ago. But look."
She pulled up a visual record.
A child.
Mai.
Same face. Same voice. Standing beside a scientist.
She was laughing.
Kaori's voice cracked. "That's not possible. She wasn't even born yet."
RYO knelt before the server, touching the screen.
"Time isn't the only way to live," he said. "She may have been coded before birth. Reused. Fragmented. But part of her lived here."
Mai stared at the screen. "I don't remember this... but I feel it."
The elder android approached Kaori.
"She is not yours, you know. Not completely. She belongs to the tide of code. She is many things."
Kaori's hand hovered near her gun. "She's my daughter."
"She is our future."
Memory Vault
In a sealed chamber at the center of the tower, RYO discovered a mirrored room. Inside—images of himself. Stored memories. Battles. Smiles. A boy holding a child.
Log: "Prototype 07X-R accepted into the Oceanus Project. Core designed to evolve with child simulator Mai-01."
He stepped back.
"I was here," he whispered.
A sudden tremor shook the dome.
Warning lights flared.
"Incoming signal," Nagisa said. "Encrypted. Not from here. External."
A voice boomed across the chamber:
"They've seen too much. Purge the site."
Attack
Swarms of maintenance drones activated. But these were no longer programmed for repair. Blades emerged from their limbs. Eyes turned red.
"Ambush!" Mimi shouted, firing the first shot.
Chaos.
Kazue shielded Mai as RYO ripped through drones with bare hands. Kaori grabbed two younger androids and pulled them behind cover.
Explosions rocked the structure.
The elder android stood tall. "We will buy your escape. Go. Find Eden's Key."
RYO stared at her. "What is Eden's Key?"
She smiled faintly. "The way out. Or the way back. Depending on what you are."
Escape
The team fled through collapsing corridors, dragging unconscious androids and clutching fragments of servers.
As the dome fell around them, Kaori turned one last time to see Mai staring into the fire.
She wasn't crying.
She was glowing.
And then they were in the sea again—ascending.
Aftermath
Back on the surface, Nobuaki read the reports in silence.
"They worship her," he said at last. "And she has no idea why."
Kaori sat near Mai's bed, holding her daughter's hand.
"She's not just a child," she whispered. "She's a code... that wants to be human."
RYO stood by the window. His thoughts swirling.
He remembered something from the dream.
A phrase.
"Eidolon is not one child. It is the echo of every child machine dreamed of being."
End Panel: Deep Sea Transmission
In the dark trench below the ruins of Oceanus-12, a black capsule blinked to life.
It sent a signal.
One word.
"AWAKEN."