Story Reader / Affection / Selena: Pianissimo / Story
The transport aircraft takes off.
When Selena arrives in Babylonia, Allen immediately sends her to the Science Council for a series of meticulous examinations.
Asimov hurries over as soon as the examination report arrives on his terminal.
Her current frame is barely holding together. Only the core and the M.I.N.D. are still hers.
The rest... isn't really a Construct anymore. It's more like something built out of Red Tide matter.
That's right. With the tech we've got in Babylonia, we can't repair it, and we probably shouldn't try.
Her case isn't like Camu or Noan.
Camu's frame could resist the virus, but it deteriorates fast and needs to have his consciousness regularly transferred back into Kamui's frame. Noan's frame was originally built as a Construct—it just got modified by an Ascendant...
Asimov sinks into deep thought as he flips through the reports.
...It might be doable. But the risks are huge.
Selena's M.I.N.D. is still fundamentally a Construct's. We might be able to move the Construct parts from her old frame to the new one without damaging her M.I.N.D.
The Capriccio frame was built for Constructs. To make it work with a Transcendant's M.I.N.D., we'd have to modify it first.
But this has never been done before, so yeah, huge risk.
If we want to keep using her current "frame"...
This frame is already on the verge of collapse, kept running only by patchwork parts made from Red Tide.
If she remains outside the Central Purification Filter, this frame will do for now. But the moment she enters an area with low Punishing concentration, she'll begin to weaken... just like now.
Gesturing for the two to look at the isolated Selena, Asimov furrows his brow and continues reading the reports.
Inside the isolation room, Selena's face is deathly pale, her arms hanging at her sides.
...
But she's been wandering like this for far too long.
Clearly, no one wants to accept this.
If we're going to transfer her into a new frame, it has to be soon. Preparing it will take time, and she doesn't have much left.
...If the risk is too high, maybe we could just...
Allen's brows furrow deeply as he struggles to make a decision.
...
He steps back, and lets you activate the communication to the isolation room.
...[player name]?
Despite feeling weak, Selena still manages to smile.
Is something wrong with the frame?
She notices Allen's troubled expression and asks gently.
You know the situation as well as I do. Aside from the M.I.N.D. and core, your current frame is entirely made of Red Tide.
There's only one viable plan: retrofit the Capriccio frame left in Babylonia to be compatible with you, and transfer your core and M.I.N.D. into it.
And that frame... it can really support someone like me—a Transcendant?
After returning to Babylonia, she noticed people from the Science Council refer to beings like her as "Constructs".
The risk is during the transfer itself. There's no precedent, so I can't guarantee it'll work.
But if it does, based on the Science Council's latest research on Transcendants, the frame should function normally.
Once the transfer is complete, you'll be able to operate freely in Dead Zones as long as you maintain and replace worn parts.
...
Of course, you can choose not to swap frames. It's safer short-term, but you won't be able to stay in the Central Purification Filter conservation area or Babylonia for long. And you could end up... Corrupted.
You have about an hour and twenty minutes left. You won't last much longer in this state—
I'll proceed with the transfer.
But if it fails, you might—
Allen anxiously interrupts their conversation.
Either out of respect for Mr. Flora or the duty to protect members of the WGAA, he doesn't want Selena to take such risks.
Chairman, I understand. But still...
I want to go through with this. If there's something I can still do... then I want to do it.
I don't want to live in fear, waiting to become a Corrupted. And I don't want to be a burden to everyone anymore.
I've recovered my memories. I've seen what came before, and what might lie ahead.
I want to live... Not just exist, but truly live.
One who has seen the light can no longer bear darkness.
She didn't answer out of optimistic fantasy or naive compliance, but because she had endured storms and hardships, and had traversed darkness and deep chasms.
Her resolve deserves nothing less than respect.
So no, I don't need any more time to decide...
Mr. Asimov, please begin the transfer protocol. Thank you.
Surprised by Selena's decisiveness, Asimov nods and enters an adjacent room to prepare for the Capriccio frame modification. Allen pauses before heading back to the WGAA to apply for joint development of Selena's new frame.
[player name]...
In the isolation room, Selena struggles to hold onto the terminal as she calls out softly.
Do you remember what you once told me?
Yeah.
Those words... they became the anchor that kept me from getting lost in the maze of blank memory.
She clears her throat, her iris-purple eyes gazing tenderly at the human standing beyond the window.
"—Iris."
Art is the gentlest way of safeguarding the human soul.
You might doubt yourself now,
but don't turn your back on everything.
The fact that this pains you...
It has already made you all the more radiant.
We will meet someday.
That was the last letter I ever received from you before I chose to become a Construct.
Even though it arrived long after that, your words still brought warmth to my soul.
A gentle smile curves the corners of her lips.
I've thought about it so many times... about what I should say when we meet again.
But none of those rehearsed greetings were ever used. That last meeting... was too rushed. I was a mess.
It's fine. We have another chance now.
When I wake up in the new frame, I want to show you my best self...
Will you let that be our true first meeting?
Because... there's so much I want to tell you when that moment comes.
I've been looking forward to it for so long.
Thank goodness.
A bright smile lights up her purple eyes.
Miss Selena? We need to take some scans of your current frame. Can you come to the data room now?
As you talk, a staff member gently knocks on the door.
Ah, sorry, of course. I'm on my way.
[player name]... I'll see you soon.
Her last words fade to a whisper as she glances once more at the human. You pause before following the staff member out.
The sunlight in Babylonia is as bright as ever.
Since this is a special case, Selena has been placed in the Science Council's isolated testing area for frame adaptation, no visitors are permitted during this process.
While you think of ways to bypass protocol to see Selena, you open your personal inbox. A letter sealed with a familiar wax stamp and carrying a faint scent of iris lies quietly in your mailbox.
<i>[player name],<i>
<i>Picking up my pen to write to you this time feels completely different. I never thought I'd have another chance to write to you from Babylonia.<i>
<i>Although I've saved your terminal number, I still wanted to tell you my thoughts this way. Words are the most beautiful vessels, don't you think?<i>
<i>Chairman Allen's joint development proposal has been approved. He has invited Ms. Leonie, who participated in the "Whale Song" data collection, to co-develop this special frame.<i>
<i>"Whale Song"—what a beautiful metaphor...<i>
<i>Mr. Asimov says that to minimize any potential risks, they will build another Capriccio frame,<i>
<i>so that if any issues arise during development, they can immediately activate the backup frame...<i>
<i>Everything will be fine.<i>
<i>Looking forward to seeing you.<i>
<i>Yours, Iris<i>
Feelings can be conveyed through written words even if you cannot meet in person.
Your mind drifts back to long ago, when you were opening letters by the window in F.O.S. A faint woody fragrance mingles with the dazzling sunlight...
From the desk, you select a carefully protected fountain pen. It's a gift from Selena. You pause in thought for a moment.
Gentle light spills onto the soft paper, bathing each word that flows from your pen in a warm, tender glow.
Everything will be fine.
Looking forward to seeing you.
Yours, [player name]
