Story Reader / Floating Record / ER08 The Long Goodbye / Story
That Corrupted was chasing after Mr. Doctor, I saw it clearly.
Will it go after him?
...I don't know.
The refugees struggle to maintain their defense line, but it crumbles helplessly under the onslaught of countless Corrupted.
Some have already torn through the defense and are charging toward the children.
I'm scared... Will we never make it to Babylonia? There are so many of them.
D-don't be scared. Just do what the doctor said. Keep the medicine safe. There'll be a chance.
No... No... I won't go to Babylonia... I'm going to find Nathan...
The girl runs to the corner and huddles beside the unconscious Nathan, only to be immediately overwhelmed by the Corrupted.
Pinned to the ground by Kamui, Wanshi watches helplessly as the explosion's flash engulfs the Constructs ahead.
Kamui lies motionless, his injuries far worse than when they first met at the Construct Maintenance Department.
More Corrupted climb over the fallen Constructs' remains, advancing toward the crowds desperately waiting for dawn.
Urgh...
Death surrounds Wanshi from all sides. The explosion's impact makes him cough up blood, yet he has no time to dwell on his own pain.
His head throbs with excruciating pain as memories explode like fireworks from that day at the exhibition hall, scattering into countless brilliant fragments.
Thompson, with one leg broken, grabs Wanshi and Kamui by their collars and drags them behind cover.
While fighting, Shorthalt manages to gradually fall back and reach them. He clamps a protective mask onto Wanshi's face.
Huff... Shorthalt, up ahead... no one can be saved anymore.
What did you say?
Thompson leans down to hear Wanshi's words—his audio module is damaged.
I couldn't save anyone... All the squads are gone... only Kamui made it...
There was a... Corrupted, I remember now... It was... Ugh!
Wanshi clutches his head in agony.
The Corrupted that called out Wanshi's name is far away now, but its words seem to have lodged themselves in his mind, refusing to let go.
It's calling my name, I can't stop remembering things from the past... I just keep diving deeper into memories.
I can't hear him properly. Come listen to him, Shorthalt. Did the explosion just mess up his mind? Human bodies are still way more fragile than Constructs.
What did he say?
Shorthalt draws his blade while leaning in to listen.
...Mother is calling me.
Crap, he's actually hallucinating! Blast a way out of here! The kid's not gonna last much longer!
I understand everything now, Shorthalt... Shorthalt!
Back then, Pelo also saw that Corrup—
Shorthalt has not responded. Instead, he just wipes the blood from the corner of Wanshi's eyes and places a handful of nametags in his hand. Then, he leaps out of cover together with Thompson. They have made the final decision.
Thompson, here's the plan. Use the EMP bombs for close range so Wanshi and the refugees behind him can survive. Then we'll move further out.
No... w-wait...!
Ready.
Thompson glances at the broken projector on his wrist. The image of the little boy that had sustained him for years finally shatters today.
Had my son grown up healthy, it would be nice if he could become a doctor like Wanshi... Haha, Wanshi was so startled when I manually detonated that EMP when he first arrived on the surface.
If I set off another one today, he probably won't be so surprised this time, right?
...Wait!!
Wanshi's cry is muffled by his mask. It does not sound louder than a pebble hitting the ground.
A final explosion rings out as flames illuminate the near distance.
Despite the debris pelting his already grievously wounded face, Wanshi refuses to close his eyes.
—!!
He screams, feeling his chest vibrate with the effort, but all he can hear is a sharp ringing in his ears.
His vision slowly fades to black.
The Corrupted bearing Wanxu's personality data stirs up too many memories, taking him back to his childhood, to those days when he lay unconscious in a hospital bed.
He had a long, hazy, beautiful dream in his childhood. The details have mostly faded away now.
What he remembers now... probably includes beautiful scenery, his gentle mother, and that conversation before he was sent to Eden.
Sitting on the lawn, the woman opens her arms to welcome him amidst the fresh scent of grass.
That's it, keep moving forward.
The toddling child finally makes it into his mother's arms, eyes fixed on the daisy in her hand.
Wanshi, you must remember this.
Wanshi, you must remember this.
The daisy transforms into a connection wire with a sharp needle at its end, freshly pulled from Wanxu's body. Her skin is still bruised from the needle hole.
The soft, damp grass doesn't exist in reality. There is only the cold laboratory.
You're too young to understand... This is an alternate approach to simulate the connection between humans and Constructs, different from remote connection pods... Who else remembers that our original intention was to help Constructs achieve Recall...?
A cooperation with outside orphanages was established as someone speculated that Constructs converted from children would possess a more unpolluted and stable M.I.N.D., making them more suitable for experiments.
We had already strayed down the wrong path by this point.
I'm no better than them. Leading you into those children's... no, those Constructs' M.I.N.D.s—it was all for my selfish desire to wake you up.
The ground facilities are conducting M.I.N.D. experiments in too many directions, most of them were left behind by the original Recall project.
That device doesn't just establish connections—it can artificially induce pathological conditions in Construct M.I.N.D.s. The experimental data should still be preserved in the research facility.
But I have no way to transmit this information out, and I'm running out of time.
The only one who can receive my message is you, Wanshi.
I'm... sorry.
I've never let you look back at the truth, but now...
Wanshi takes the daisy from his mother's hand and turns around in a daze, gazing at what he believes to be an endless field.
Many "children" stand together in the distance, silently watching him.
They differ in age, skin tone, hair color... in everything visible, yet they share the same metal bodies, synthetic skin, and uniforms marked with simple serial numbers.
These Constructs fix their gaze upon the child in distant Eden, like caged birds watching their free kin soaring through the sky.
He's also a child of "Mother".
He's the true child of "Mother".
...
...
I'm sorry. I took it upon myself to craft a beautiful dream for you.
Sins are concealed with grass, needles and guns adorned with flowers.
Truth is a blade ground from restraints, an elephant devoured by ants.
My conjectures about Construct M.I.N.D.s, along with all the experimental data, were never meant for you to see.
But whether treasures or filth, they will all remain deep within your memories...
No matter how deeply they're buried, these memories will surface one day—perhaps triggered by someone you meet, or an object you touch...
As long as even a fragment of memory remains, you will inevitably find your way here.
...What about you?
And them?
His tiny finger points at the test subjects, who dare not approach any closer.
...
...I will die.
They will seek rebirth.
Wanxu tightens her embrace, trying to hold Wanshi close, but she can no longer do so.
She disappears along with the bullet. With no one left to maintain the beautiful dream, the mist rolls in, enveloping Wanshi in a pure, endless white.
Keep going, Wanshi. Don't look back.
The test subjects guide him in unison.
Keep going, just keep moving forward.
With ringing ears and blurred vision, the human slowly rises from the ruins, powered by one final surge of adrenaline.
...Keep moving forward.
...Keep... going...
Huff... Puff...
Memories flood to the surface in overwhelming waves, each one revealing a truth buried deep within his mind for years.
So many children... transformed...
So many people were killed... and dumped in the landfill...
Even... you... Wanxu... had failed...
Dragging his sniper rifle, Wanshi moves toward the red-glowing tide of Constructs, his eyes locked on their leader—the very one he had desperately tried to make Shorthalt notice earlier.
So those things you told me in my "dreams"... they were all difficult yet important tasks, weren't they?
To think... you built a mechanoid just to find me... Even now, hiding among the Corrupted... just to tell me... to finish what we began.
Is it here? The chip.
Wanshi reaches for the back of his head, blood seeping through his fingers. He's determined to open his skull and remove the synchronization chip.
Phew... I remember now... I understand everything.
But now... I must...
I need to do what I can right now... Ugh!
Wanshi trips over a tiny pebble. Before collapsing to the ground, he props himself up with his gun, barely managing to keep his upper body raised as he crawls toward cover.
Countless comrades will never wake again. He drags their bodies to a single spot.
As a doctor, what he has done most today is not saving lives, but hauling away the remains.
Refugees, volunteer doctors... those children...
Euan, Nathan, Thompson, Kamui, Shorthalt...
I could not save anyone.
The doctor raises his sniper rifle, his vision blurred with blood. This shot is his last stand.
He aims at the leading Corrupted—the same one who, moments ago in battle, called out his name and gave him an embrace tainted with Punishing virus.
He feels utterly drained. The pain in his head fades into a distant hum, his mind a blank void.
Now, all he wants to do is pull the trigger.
One last thing... I can still do my duty.
First... stop the killing... here...
Even for a second... Even if... I can save just one...
The bullet leaves the barrel, piercing through the Punishing-contaminated air.
A shriek erupts from the horde of Corrupted. He must have hit something, but he's too weak to even care.
Human strength is so insignificant—even with the cost of his life, all he can do is fire a single bullet, and he does not even know if that bullet will stop a Corrupted or save a single life.
He's seen all his soldiers fall. Now, he's finally done his duty. As a military doctor, he can finally rest.
But he wants to hold on just a little bit longer.
No... not... over...
Long-dormant memories explode in his mind, a torrent of images and sensations flooding his consciousness. Wanxu understands what these memories truly represent.
R-remember...
He collapses, yet refuses to close his eyes. Bright sunlight floods in his vision.
Dawn breaks, and the light everyone had longed for arrives as usual—yet Wanshi is the only one left to witness it.
There's no survivor...
The rescue team moves through the debris-strewn ground, searching everywhere for signs of life.
The refugee shelter has collapsed too. Rescue operations are underway, but the first few children we dug out were already...
...Damn it! They had us surrounded all night, attacking relentlessly. Why did they suddenly scatter? What are these Corrupted up to?!
That's unusual. I'll report this when we get back.
I've found survivors here! They are badly wounded!
Chrome rushes over and finds a human still breathing beside a severely injured Construct. They carefully lift both of them up.
Chrome notices the human wearing a white robe, now filthy and torn to shreds.
Is he a doctor?
Must be one of those fresh volunteer doctors... Every batch of these fearless doctors who come to the surface meets the same fate.
Guys, help get this stretcher onto the shuttle. Easy now—he's got internal injuries for sure.
Wait... his eyes are still open?
The voices sound as if they're coming from far away. Everything before Wanshi's eyes turns to chaos, his hearing as blurred as his vision.
A blonde Construct has responded to the loud-voiced Construct's call. He comes close, speaking in a steady, reliable tone.
Contact Star of Life and let them prepare for emergency treatment. He still has open wounds, we need to stop them from bleeding. How many volunteer doctors do we have on the shuttle? Get them over here.
It's no use... The wounds are too severe, there's no time...
Only a handful of the once passionate volunteer doctors remain alive. They all stare at the mangled human figure—some force themselves to prepare what little medical equipment they have, while others retch at the sight.
There's still time. Could you come here and bind the wound? The rest of you, make yourselves useful.
The blonde Construct leans down to whisper in Wanshi's ear, just as Thompson once leaned down to listen to him speak.
Hold on just a little longer. We'll be back in Babylonia soon, and the Star of Life will do everything they can to save you.
Must... remember... Xu... said...
What?
Important... memories... Cough cough!
Please, save your breath for now.
The gravely wounded doctor coughs up bloody foam, yet his fingers stubbornly curl—as if there's something he must complete at all costs.
Must... live on... modify... preserve... memories...
...
...Do you want to be modified?
The blonde Construct's expression seems complicated, but Wanshi's vision is too blurry to tell. Only his voice echoes in Wanshi's mind:
Do you want to be modified?
Die as a human, or live on as a Construct?
When death is at the door, he has been granted a chance to make his own choice.
...I'm willing to.
Be modified.
The world quietly closes its eyes, and all chaos fades into whispers.
...He's compatible with the copolymers...
It's a miracle... his bones shattered... pierced the lungs... he was lucky to make it to the Star of Life...
...Modification is the only...
Very strange M.I.N.D... never seen one this complex... it's so chaotic...
The M.I.N.D. is extremely unstable... modification can't proceed, and all the data within is about to deteriorate...
We can seal the most chaotic parts deep within the M.I.N.D... it's an acceptable procedure... many traumatized Constructs choose to do this...
Honoring his choice to live on as a Construct, they made what seemed to be the most appropriate decision for him at the time.
Hmm? What's this... shrapnel in the brain?
The doctor casually removes something and tosses it aside. The metal piece clinks against the medical tray.
After that, he must have lost something, but he can't remember what it was.
...
Life as a Construct was a beautiful new dream. He had been in "slumber" for so long, until this moment when a "bullet" that traversed years pierces through his head.
