Story Reader / Floating Record / ER10 Deceivers' Rapture / Story
Is the catastrophe sparked by the Zero-point Reactor 1 an omen that the next phase of evolution is upon us?
Hmm... you realize that evolution always comes with elimination, don't you?
A muffled voice, as though echoing through water, pierces Lilith's ears with a sudden, stinging jolt.
Then a surge of warmth seeps into her ear canals, dragging her Memory back into a seemingly endless void.
There's a hematoma in the outer ear canal! We're unsure about any intracranial hemorrhage—incise and drain to halt the bleeding!
The doctor's coat is now tattered and stained beyond recognition, polluted by metal shards and splashes of blood.
The voice along the shore fades even further away, and yet she continues to sink—past the sunlit layer, into the twilight depths...
At the far end of the trench, a silent hospital corridor stretches out. Soft afternoon light—so unlike anything one can find beneath the ocean—envelops the pristine white interior in a gentle glow.
December 25, 2150. The digital clock displays an eerie date—two days after one of Lilith's teenage birthdays.
2197?
The man fixes his gaze on the message terminal in his hand, issuing a low, uncertain hum.
Sir... where are we?
Even with her Memory nearly unmoored from all anchors, her caution remains a matter of pure instinct.
She holds her tongue. In that moment, she realizes the person in front of her isn't even aware she exists.
...
He keeps his entire focus locked on the terminal right in front of him.
That memetic corruption <color=#ff4e4eff>▁▃▆▃</color> waits at the far end of the "Bridge", and yet <color=#ff4e4eff>▇▅▂</color> can't solve what lies before us.
<color=#ff4e4eff>▇▅▂▁▂▁▇</color> Need more samples, and <color=#ff4e4eff>▂▄</color> crave more chances...
No matter how the possibilities unfold, you can never obtain <color=#ff4e4eff>▂▄</color> on your own.
Without warning, the ceiling caves in.
From the start... that's the reason you...
She tries to gather her thoughts, but a blinding light tears through her eyelids, jolting every nerve.
Ugh... get your filthy hands off me!
Her limbs are locked down against cold metal; she can feel the same unforgiving surface under her body.
The intel we salvaged from Fort Winter isn't complete. We're already pushing the experiment's replication to its very limit.
The Tantalum-193 copolymer is highly compatible, but during data transfer, an unknown signal source breaches her Memory.
We suspect it stems from those early experiments, leaving behind an irreversible trauma in the brain.
Her eyelashes clamp down on her eyes like iron prison bars, the sharp sting blurring her brain's ability to register what she sees.
Her hearing remains unnervingly sharp, guiding her from the cell to the courtroom where her final judgment awaits.
Worthless! And I went so far as to make her our Test Subject One!
Begin the biohazard purge—shut down all life support immediately!
No, this is impossible.
She's staked her very existence on a platinum chip—only to have the haughty dealer cast her aside like worthless scrap?
When it comes down to it, what could that voice possibly know of real pain? She's never even felt the slightest brush of true danger!
Ugh... Shut that filthy, festering mouth of yours! Right now!
Cough... cough cough...
A chaotic fury rips from her throat, and with it, a surge of thick, viscous fluid bursts out.
She can barely breathe.
Shut up! SHUT UP!!!! CONTINUE THE SURGERY!!!!
She struggles against her bindings, but the spikes burrow even deeper beneath her skin with every movement.
Her vision cuts through her lashes, only to retreat back into the depths of her mind as the shadowless lamp's searing heat forces it away.
But she won't stop here.
You can make so many decisions for me...
But this absolutely will NOT be one of them!!!!!!!
...Tch, continue.
Understood.
Pain floods through her, and she feels her consciousness slip away once again.
