Story Reader / Floating Record / ER10 Deceivers' Rapture / Story
New Neilis Air Force Base
Outskirts of Las Prados
Golden Age, October 3
...According to the North American Ecological Research Institute, Earth doesn't have four seasons, but six: Summer, Fall, the Lock-in, Winter, the Thaw, and finally, Spring.
We desert-dwellers know it the best.
Surrounded by scorching red-rock peaks, we still see them blanketed in white during the winter. In that quiet season, you can practically sense this city grinding to a standstill.
In the first few years after the research institute initiated Project Bokonon, Las Prados was nowhere near the size it is today—in fact, it was just a small town attached to an air force base.
My brother's hotel has its own entertainment hall—it's the only spot within hundreds of miles where soldiers and researchers can blow off steam.
When winter sets in, the shop stays bolted shut, and only a few lonely tire tracks mar the grimy streets.
When people head outdoors, each step yields a sharp crunch as gravel and snow crystals grind together. The icy blue-white frost magnifies that sound, making it echo even more vividly.
Such is the Lock-in season. The biting cold locks down the passes, making every path into the city nearly impassable.
Your mission is to build a self-sustaining habitat out here in this desolation, proving Project Eden's long-term viability for Kurono in a realm beyond our current understanding.
Indeed. Our hard-won survival tells us that a self-sustaining micro-world aboard a starship—lasting hundreds, even thousands of years in the depths of space—is an even more outlandish fantasy than Zero-point Energy.
After all, our grasp of the stars often runs deeper than our understanding of the oceans or deserts.
Still, we are determined to become the pioneers who cross that divide. Our humanity is tied to the land that gave birth to us. Some advocate we rebuild our bodies to surpass flesh, others that we upload consciousness and leave the body behind.
If surviving deadly radiation, the vacuum of space, and extreme cold means forsaking our very humanity, then what's the point of seeking refuge on another planet?
When a civilization reaches for the stars, it carries everything of its species—everything of its homeworld—into the farthest corners of the cosmos.
That's why we've made up our minds—we're going to recreate the perfect cradle for life.
But Mr. Kurono, so thoroughly devoted to Project Cthylla, apparently does not share that view.
Even the resources you acquired under your niece's name... they didn't come straight from Kurono's coffers, did they?
The man Kephart calls the "investor" clearly has more up his sleeve than he's letting on.
If you're more concerned about passing moral judgment than seeing the bigger picture, there's no point in continuing this discussion.
She stands her ground, her voice resolute and unyielding.
There's no need for alarm, Madam—I mean no disrespect. Even so, it's astonishing to see someone so young acting with such ruthless resolve.
But let's get straight to the point. Ultimately, you followed your own judgment, which led you to break away from Kurono.
You know the story inside out. It looks like when Kephart spoke of these "new investors" earlier, he was doing so on your behalf, not Kurono's.
He's a shrewd opportunist who knows exactly how to hedge his bets.
It's only fitting that he be the open mediator between you, me, and Kurono.
The Eden III Colony Ship stands as our safeguard. Should Project Cthylla and Project Eden both fall through, the vessel you're determined to build will become our last ark.
It's obsessive—but I can't help liking it.
Working with you is a treat.
A fleeting handshake—that's all it takes to finalize this clandestine deal.
Henceforth, the author feeds Las Prados's mistress endless riches.
The Golden Age ends so abruptly, and it only proves her arrogance:
Zero-point Engine of Project Eden fails in ignition, dooming humanity.
Project Cthylla splintered into each heir's dark experiments.
She can't even be bothered to scorn Project Winter that once tried to outdo her:
Brain extractions, limb mods, cloning, Memory swaps—endless detours.
They match her effortless Construct revival from old records.
She nearly uncovers the ultimate secret that conquers death.
Yet the writer's parting question from that day still resonates in Monzano's mind.
How far can we push the boundaries of technology before it inevitably turns on us?
Looking for material to write about? Sorry to disappoint, but I've never given that much thought. Whenever our earlier innovations come back to haunt us, we just forge new technology to keep them at bay.
Those who are certain they hold both the road and the truth in their grasp seldom consider that the force poised to strike them might lie outside the triumphs they so closely guard.
She was undone by her fatal flaw: relying on technological rationality as her trump card.
Bridge Deck
Eden III Colony Ship
Bridge Deck, Eden III Colony Ship
After that sandstorm, the tide formed by the convergence of Punishing engulfs the city.
It seems impossible to return to the surface anytime soon.
It's precisely her detached demeanor that Monzano can never accept—she appears to have no anger, no sorrow or joy, only two states: receiving orders and carrying them out.
Are you pleased?
This is nothing to celebrate. I'm just stating the facts.
Efforts to reclaim the surface stall again, weighed down by uncontrollable threats.
The girl stays composed, though there's a steeled firmness in her voice that wasn't there before.
As the officer in charge of our Constructs' ground missions... am I authorized to present a full report to the Parliament?
She sees no reason to wait. With ruthless precision, she drives her probing strike into Monzano's teetering defenses.
Desperate to elbow your way out of the kiddie pool? Before you cause trouble on my turf, you'd better think twice.
You really think I wouldn't see through your deliberate leak after the mall operation?
And even Monzano can't keep up that pretense any longer.
Is this a joke, Aunt? This is where I live too—why would anyone poison the very water they themselves drink from?
The effortlessly skilled performance naturally takes the stage.
If someone aims to poison everyone... and they're immune to every toxin themselves, then they just might go through with it.
Meanwhile, my Construct prototype has gone through 321 iterations. Your frame, on the other hand, has been stitched together time and again since the Great Evacuation—and you're still using it even now.
If unleashing the Punishing Virus is how you plan to sow chaos and gain the upper hand, I can only pity your fate, my dear niece.
Monzano issues a challenge to the very viper she has nurtured herself.
Your grasp of "survival of the fittest" is painfully shallow. Confidence? Power? Cunning? All of them become worthless in the face of technological progress.
Only those who endure the fiercest trials can move on to the next stage of evolution.
"Endure"—even now, Monzano insists on using that word.
Heh...
This gentle chuckle is genuinely heartfelt.
Haven't you been working with that writer from the start, Aunt?
What exactly are you implying? Trout has been dead for years.
I'm not really calling out that gentleman... I just wanted to share a little about my thoughts on reading.
Opportunities like this don't come along every day, do they?
Too busy running things before the outbreak, too busy fighting things after... We never stopped to talk to each other.
Lilith speaks with a quiet sincerity, as though she's reflecting on everything that's come before.
When the World Government's hollow promises of peace and progress are fully laid bare by the entertainment powerbrokers, she finds herself briefly impressed by the hidden strategist, Monzano.
But just like every living creature that must either evolve or die out, no authority can endure forever.
Yet she remains grateful to her aunt for granting her this secluded haven.
...She hears the city erupt in thunderous celebration, but her thoughts are elsewhere. She knows all too well that danger still lurks behind this happiness. After all, she clearly sees what the cheering crowds do not.
I don't recall giving you permission to speak!
The girl smiles gently and presses on.
Bacteria never truly die; they can slumber in furniture and clothing for decades. They lie in wait—patient and unrelenting—in rooms, cellars, suitcases, handkerchiefs, even in stacks of discarded paper...
You've got no right to hold your head so high!
The girl doesn't acknowledge her and continues to speak, her voice taking on a tone even more resonant and haunting than a funeral hymn.
Perhaps, someday, calamity will strike again—or maybe the world will learn yet another hard lesson...
The Plague God will rise once more, unleashing its legion of rats to descend upon a contented city...and turn it into their final grave.
Primal terror grips Monzano—fear of the unknown.
She cannot fathom the intentions of the figure standing before her.
Yet there is one thing she unquestionably holds: authority. It is absolute, unmatched, and as unshakable as stone.
Strip away my rank, seize your claim over the elite and the countless civilians in cryo-sleep—tell me, does that make you truly powerful?
That "noble pedigree" of yours? It's nothing but a smokescreen for your filthy operations! In this corrupt world, nobody cares about the showgirl who once knew only cheap tricks!
Rule is founded on fear—but you can't scare anyone!
Eleanor Sinclair—merely a name that has been rotting away in history's dustbin for ages!
When I came back to Kurono bearing the fruits of my work... you could have claimed your portion! I had set that reward aside for you ages ago!
Her gaze, more venomous than a serpent's, pins those insolent insects—who dare to ignore her authority—against the throne's corner.
But that isn't my name, is it?
With a hint of resignation, the young woman lowers her gaze, offering a subdued response.
EX-AC-TLY! No ones give a flying f**k what s**thole you came from! No one will recognize you!
You're a castoff born in a casino, a failure, a sh*tshow raised in an orphanage!
If it weren't for Kurono—for me—you'd have frozen to death in some back-alley junkpile, still tethered by that uncut cord, just a pile of bones eaten alive by rats and maggots!
The girl feels a flicker of pity for the woman standing before her. In this instant, at least, her fury seems genuine.
But she's already made a grave misstep: in this moment of psychological sparring, she's the one who shows her soft underbelly first.
I'm still my aunt's niece, aren't I? The very same niece who killed your bother—the one who offered the land and the funds to bring this massive warship back to life.
I feel nothing but gratitude and have been repaying your kindness ever since...
Whatever catches my fancy, I always make sure to share it with you.
You want to endure the deadliest high-intensity environment to prove humanity's ability to evolve. So, I created just that for you, Aunt.
Wasn't the sole successful Memory-transfer experiment—and the countless Construct trials that followed—all made possible by a place like this?
In the end, who knows? Maybe Punishing will choose you instead, Aunt.
She bows low, wrapping up her composed and measured address.
Yet this impeccably phrased, etiquette-perfect speech sends a chill through the room. Once those words take shape on her lips, they go far beyond what ordinary sense can grasp.
No one can stand in for the laws of nature and pass such reckless judgment!
Clinging to a handful of fundamental truths is the only way Monzano can hold on to her sanity.
The Punishing Virus tears through every circuit in her frame, and even her state-of-the-art internal Inver-Device can hardly bear the strain.
If you want to escape your suffering, Aunt, there's actually a very simple choice you can make.
Spit your venom at me again, and I'll cut that foul tongue right out of your mouth—right now. Even if I can't withstand it, I still have the chance to switch frames in the end.
"Withstand"... Even at this point, Monzano insists on using that word.
Lilith grows impatient. Power is, without a doubt, the most potent corrosive force—far more devastating than the Punishing Virus.
They can shroud even the keenest minds in darkness, cutting them off from the truths that lie beyond the rules we accept as absolute.
Those who dread the loss of power will do anything to preserve their own life.
In return, they lost the single most precious trump card they had—the unwavering will to lay down their lives.
I've always had complete faith in your grasp of technology, Aunt. But let me make one thing clear: I have no desire whatsoever to claim your throne.
So what do you really yearn for? Don't tell me it's revenge?!
You dare come after me for that wretched girl Discord—and everything that happened to you?! Is that why you want revenge?!
I handed you the chance to end Rosewater—the real villain—by your own hand, and you still insist I orchestrated the whole thing?
I am beyond disappointed in you! After all these years of careful nurturing, you're still obsessed with revenge—a notion so base it makes my stomach turn!
Then how do you interpret the notion of "power", Aunt?
Reclaim Las Prados, create conservation areas, and rescue the civilians on the verge of turning into popsicles...
They're inviting pampered aristocrats—who've never known true hardship—to rebuild the entire hierarchy, all while generously handing out bread to the masses.
If resources permit, perhaps one day they can even treat them to not just one, but two circus shows.
When the time comes and they hail you as ruler, you'll prove that your technology and authority eclipse the constant infighting among Kurono and Babylonia Parliament—won't you?
She shows hardly any emotion, as if she's merely stating a fact set in stone.
When it comes to trivial matters that fail to truly rouse her nerves, she won't waste even a single moment more.
Prove your strength and wash away disgrace with your own power—it's far more satisfying than mere vengeance!
Strength? What strength? In that colossal wave of Red Death, could your so-called empire last a day, an hour, or even just a second?
Sure, the natural barrier keeps us from toppling immediately, but the threat you're worried about grows stronger every single day...
It's a shame Punishing stands as the next phase of evolution, but your way of thinking has never aligned with evolution at all.
That "order" you cling to is merely the structure you forced upon this world—helpless in the face of the unknown.
Even this so-called "City in a Bottle"... it's only a matter of time before it crumbles, isn't it?
The orbit seems to be failing; from deep within the labyrinth of structures beneath the deck comes a roar like a trapped beast, as if the rampant Punishing Virus has twisted cold metal into living monstrosities.
On the bridge, the panoramic screen shatters into glittering shards, but the girl's Moon Umbrella catches them just in time.
Since our story began with a longing to sail among the stars... shall we meet again under that endless sky, dear Aunt?
She offers Monzano a faint smile and heads toward the elevator.
Her heels tap out a crisp, steady cadence on the rocking deck, as if the raging storm around her is of no consequence.
Savor your final banquet...
I'll turn the City in a Bottle into your tomb!
