Night falls, its darkness thickened by clouds that shroud the moon.
Within the conservation area, silence reigns, broken only by the routine patrols—and by the two Gray Raven members slipping like shadows from their quarters.
...Finally, everyone's settled for the night.
Ever since you returned from the central plaza, several residents have been lurking around your temporary quarters.
This wasn't curiosity; it was surveillance.
The ruse only worked after Liv fake-extinguished the lights, and you both waited in silence for another thirty minutes. Convinced that you had gone to sleep, the watchers finally withdrew.
Under the cover of night, you navigate a world of shifting silhouettes. The patrol soldiers' lanterns warp the conservation buildings into grotesque shapes. You and Liv move between the pulses of light, finding safety in the deep, still darkness behind the structures.
I have a feeling her quarters won't be far from the medical station... This way, Commandant.
Evading the patrol soldiers, you press yourself into the deep darkness under the eaves. Liv leads you to a surprisingly modest tent.
From within, a warm yellow light spills out. It seems Melinoe, the doctor, has decided to stop concealing her presence.
Ah... It's you two. Hello there.
She's even standing at the entrance of the tent, as if she'd been expecting your visit all along.
I had a feeling you would come... Please, come in and have a seat.
We are not enemies. Whatever you wish to know, I will answer.
With a gentle smile, Melinoe draws back the tent flap, releasing a warm, delicate fragrance of wood and herbs to greet you.
Wait, Commandant.
With a protective step, Liv positions herself in front of you, her gaze darting through the tent to assess it for danger. After a moment, she gestures for you to enter.
The space is modest, illuminated by a lantern that casts a warm, yellow glow. Against the walls and across the ground are piles of thick, hand-knitted blankets.
Despite being furnished with crude and basic materials, the air itself holds a comforting warmth that pushes back the night's chill.
...Please, make yourselves comfortable.
Melinoe gestures for you to sit, then lifts a kettle from a small stove to pour two cups of hot water.
She makes no attempt to conceal her inhuman hands; their steel framework grinds softly with the movement, a whisper of long-neglected maintenance.
With a soft, whirring rustle, a mechanical spider dances in the corner, its eight legs weaving an intricate web in the air.
According to human etiquette, one should offer guests tea... I apologize, but I don't have any beverages to serve you.
Melinoe offers an apologetic smile.
Ah. Forgive me. I haven't properly introduced myself...
Setting down the kettle, Melinoe straightens her posture and sits formally upright before speaking with measured deliberation.
My name is Melinoe. As you can see, I am a mechanoid.
To your surprise, Melinoe openly acknowledges her true identity.
This isn't a question. Clearly, the residents of the conservation area have been collectively guarding the doctor's secret.
Yes. I've never tried to hide it from them.
A clear nervousness betrays Melinoe as she reaches for the kettle, refilling the teacups in a flimsy gesture meant to disguise her unease.
I have never harmed anyone. I simply live here, helping where I can. I perform minor medical duties, though my practical experience is still... limited.
That is all. Because... because I have no combat functions whatsoever...
She desperately tries to prove her harmlessness.
If... if it is about earlier with Lyam... I did "absorb" his feelings of suffering. That much is true.
Her hands twist and fret against each other.
"Absorbing" emotions... Is that your function?
No. It is... my job.
A soft sigh of relief escapes Melinoe's lips, as if she's finally found solid conversational ground. She seizes the topic and runs with it.
For a complete introduction... I am a "psychologist" model mechanoid. Psychologist, Generation III, serial number III-0007. "Melinoe" is the codename my creators gave me.
During the Golden Age, they did develop them for therapeutic purposes. But if I remember correctly, the project was terminated after the second generation due to ethical concerns. All existing prototypes were supposed to have been disposed of...
But there are always those who see a use for such abilities, aren't there?
...
The "psychologist" model mechanoids were developed during the Golden Age, designed to "regulate" human emotions...
You recall records from F.O.S. College about these mechanoids: The "psychologist" model mechanoids were developed during the Golden Age, designed to "regulate" human emotions...
As technology reached its zenith during the Golden Age, a plague of mental illness spread.
The wealthy could afford human therapists, but for the poor, the solution had to be cheaper and more scalable.
Thus, to stem a crisis of suicides, the Psychologist Generation I was created—mechanoids equipped with psychological comfort modules to meet a desperate need.
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A flickering Golden Age projection illuminates Liv's terminal. In it, a medical salesman gestures animatedly toward the female mechanoid standing silently behind him—a creation of human-like features.
...Of course it wasn't.
Her brow furrows, a pained expression crossing her features as she delves into an unpleasant memory.
The positive emotion module was just a placebo, a database of basic psychology. It was barely a bandage. The real "treatment"... was the emotion extraction procedure that followed.
We would translate the brainwaves of negative emotions, isolate the specific neural signals, and then... reverse-compile a program to send back to the brain.
If you eliminate the neural signals for negative emotions, then the feeling itself... simply ceases to exist.
My father was a board member at the medical research center. I remember when the Generation I model launched; the praise was universal. They rushed the development of the Generation II immediately after...
Right as it hit the market... the first medical incident occurred.
A corporate employee stepped casually from the 19th-floor landing, laughing and chatting as he fell.
Moments before, he had been treated by a "Psychologist Generation II" mechanoid for "work-related anxiety."
The procedure erased his capacity for fear, so he felt no alarm as he stepped into the open air.
After that, a series of medical incidents related to the "Psychologist Generation II" occurred in rapid succession. It wasn't until the authorities dismantled several units that they uncovered the base logic behind their operations...
Melinoe lets out a deep sigh.
When extraction proved insufficient... the "emotion consumption" protocol would engage. It would... directly devour the neural activity in those wavelengths.
Once these signals of neural activity are devoured, the emotions they govern briefly vanish from the human experience.
It was a fundamental violation of human ethics. That's why the first and second generations were systematically recalled and destroyed.
I am a "Psychologist Generation III" mechanoid, developed in secret.
Melinoe gives a sad shake of her head.
We were already in development when Generation II was launched. The corporation simply buried our existence deeper.
Subsequently, Generation III units were manufactured in secret. They refused to abandon their investment. The final batch of us... we were auctioned off to the highest bidders through underground channels.
I was purchased by the mining company here. My designation was "domestic service," but my true function was to pacify the workers, to absorb their despair and prevent unrest... until the Punishing Virus came.
I remained... trapped in the mine. For a very, very long time.
Some of the miners died to machines corrupted by the Punishing Virus... others in the fights over dwindling supplies. As for me... I don't truly understand it. I just... opened my eyes.
She struggles to articulate her awakening, latching onto the abstract phrase "opening her eyes" with visible confusion.
When my senses finally returned to me, everyone was gone. I navigated through the tunnels that hadn't yet collapsed and eventually... found this conservation area.
At first, I kept my distance. I was too afraid to approach. But in time, I saw the humans here didn't fear me... so I decided to stay. To live among them...
...I'm sorry. I'd heard rumors that Babylonia isn't particularly welcoming to mechanoids.
Melinoe's gaze darts away for a moment, and she clears her throat in embarrassment.
I did the same when the Rodent squad first arrived. I kept my distance until I was sure they meant no harm.
I asked them about you, but they didn't know much. Only that you were "some elite squad that's really tough."
I was afraid you might... drive me away. After all, I'm not human.
I heard you were only here to help clear the Hetero-Creatures from the mine. My plan was to stay hidden until you left. But then... Lyam...
I sensed his suffering. I... I couldn't just ignore it.
Her voice tightens with grief.
I knew it would expose me. I knew I could only devour his fear and pain, that it wouldn't heal his injuries. But... but...
Melinoe's voice trembles.
He was calling for his mom...
I couldn't... I just couldn't leave that boy there in so much agony...
All I could do was try some basic medical techniques from my database, hoping to ease his suffering, even just a little.
But I didn't know any other procedures. The painkillers were all gone. I could only... I could only do the one thing I was built for...
A faint trail of tears traces a path down her cheek. Stunned, Melinoe scrambles for a cloth, her mind reeling at the biological impossibility betrayed by her own mechanical body.
Forgive me, I...
...
Liv lets out a soft sigh and offers her a handkerchief.
We're not going to hurt you. In fact, we've become friends with many mechanoids who are kind to humans...
They... I mean, haven't any other mechanoids tried to contact you?
...Y-yes... there have been.
As her emotions gradually settle, Melinoe wipes away her tears.
A mechanoid called Arcana contacted me once. She said she belonged to an organization for our kind...
...You know of them? I was worried I might have revealed their existence.
Melinoe lowers her gaze evasively.
Why didn't you go to them? Find your own kind? Wouldn't you be safer with other mechanoids?
They did give me an address. A place where I could go and live with them. But...
I don't want to leave the humans behind.
As her tears fade, a gentle smile dawns on Melinoe's face.
I don't want to leave them. I love these humans, and my existence depends on them.
She smiles with genuine warmth.
It's the core programming of every psychologist mechanoid. Even with self-awareness... I have no desire to break free from this fundamental logic.
I love them, and I rely on them.
Observing Melinoe's innocent smile, you exchange a subtle glance with Liv.
This mechanoid shows no obvious abnormalities—at least, no trace of the Punishing Virus. She appears to be just like Nanami, Hanying, and the other mechanoids you have met.
On the surface, her story seems plausible enough.
While this is no reason to let your guard down, it may be an opportunity to learn what is truly happening inside the mine.
You mentioned you "worked" in the mine for a long time... Would you be willing to tell us about the conditions inside?
As you know, clearing the Hetero-Creatures from those tunnels is our primary objective.
Of course.
Melinoe agrees without a moment's hesitation.
If the mine can be made safe, it would mean a real chance at survival for the people here... What do you need to know?
According to the treatment records I was given, some were miners. The negative emotions I absorbed from them were predominantly "fear" and "frustration."
The others... were listed as "researchers." Their primary emotions were "exhaustion"... and a profound sense of "terror."
There seems to be a large laboratory deep within the complex. But... due to the nature of my function, I was confined to my designated treatment room for most of my operational period.
Sorry, I'm not equipped with geological databases, so I can't identify the minerals.
She furrows her brow, straining to search her database for relevant information.
But they were extracting some kind of crystals... The laboratory existed solely to research them.
But... due to the nature of my function, I was confined to my designated treatment room for most of my operational period, so I'm not clear on their specific operations.
Melinoe pauses briefly, a stream of luminous data flickering across her pupils, as if she's retrieving some information.
Based on my internal chronology, this was in the late Golden Age. They had been mining for years, excavating tunnels so vast they formed an entire underground city.
After I settled here in the conservation area, I went back a few times to scavenge for supplies... That's when I encountered the Hetero-Creatures you're hunting. And... something else.
...A child.
...A child? Inside the mine?
Liv asks, visibly stunned.
In times like these, an adult can barely feed themselves... How could they hope to raise a child?
Melinoe lets out a sorrowful sigh.
I suppose it was a wanderer who, after giving birth, felt she had no other choice. So she left her newborn in the mine.
That time, I was searching an old warehouse in the mining sector, hoping to find any leftover painkillers...
Bandages... Ah, these have already deteriorated.
In the supply warehouse, ravaged by time, the fabric crumbled to dust, falling in a soft cascade from the female mechanoid's hands.
She waved the motes from the air, recalibrated her visual module, and forced open another sealed container.
Painkillers... Thank goodness, there's still a bottle here.
Clutching the barely usable painkillers, Melinoe was about to return to the conservation area when she noticed several Hetero-Creatures converging in the same direction.
Faintly, another sound could be heard from that direction...
...Crying? How is that possible...
A base-level protocol to protect infants was triggered within her data core. Offering no resistance to the directive, she walked straight into the depths of the pitch-black mine shaft—
The Hetero-Creatures had gathered, surrounding an infant. They were preparing to attack.
I drove them away and rescued the child... but I paid for it with one arm.
I'm sorry. My combat capabilities are too limited...
She shakes her head.
Even though the Hetero-Creatures aren't particularly drawn to mechanoids, their claws can still tear through my body with ease.
My model is rare. Replacement parts are... scarce. That's why I only dare to scavenge around the outskirts.
...
I am just a mechanoid. I don't know... how to care for a human infant.
Lost in thought, Melinoe stares at a corner where that mechanical spider waves its eight slender legs, perpetually mimicking the act of weaving a web.
I tried to give her water and food... but she wouldn't take it. She just kept crying.
So I tried... I tried to devour her distress. But she was so young. New fears and discomfort would surface instantly, and the crying would start all over again.
I didn't know how to comfort her...
After all, she's only a mechanoid.
Where is she now?
A couple from the conservation area took her in.
She opens the conservation area's registry and points out the names of the couple.
This couple... their own son didn't live to see his ninth birthday.
How...
I've read the resident manual for Conservation Area 368. Doesn't it have a rule that "children under eight years old receive additional supplies"?
Liv asks anxiously.
Those rations did help him reach eight years old. And then... he accidentally fell into an open mineshaft.
...
By the time we found him, it was too late.
After I brought this child back... I placed her with them. I hoped she might bring some solace into their lives...
Melinoe lowers her gaze.
I am just a mechanoid. I don't know... how to raise a human child.
I tried to give her everything I thought was best, but she couldn't grow properly in my care.
It was agony to let her go... but I had no other choice, so I asked the couple to take her in.
Even if she will never call me mother... just being able to watch over her from a distance...
That is enough for me.
