Story Reader / Main Story / 31 Shaper's Ripples / Story
At the end of the white fog, the Gray Raven Commandant sinks into a new dream.
In this dream of a mad man, perspectives spiral into chaos. He possesses multiple identities, often unable to distinguish who he truly is.
At times, he is a renowned professor; at others, his consciousness drifts through the manic delusions of countless murderers.
He becomes the victim burned alive in the museum, then turns into the perpetrator who avenges her death.
He tends to patients with healing hands, then slaughters the entire hospital with a lucid mind.
For a long time, he lives in constant stage fright, never knowing which consciousness dwelling within his body will take the spotlight next, what intentions they will harbor, or what consequences they will bring.
Upon becoming Vonnegut, becoming an agent, and being reborn in a new vessel, he begins constantly trimming away at his own mind data.
Only by cutting away the uncontrollable and unnecessary parts, preserving what is controllable and meaningful, can he truly become himself.
Vonnegut compiles what remains of his self into a chaotic report—like an undelivered last will, forever put away in his terminal.
It begins thus:
Nemo was a sickly child from birth. After graduation, he underwent the Construct surgery.
Yet he felt no gratitude for his father's arrangements or this increasingly widespread technology. Instead, he saw in mind data upload technology the harbingers of war and fundamental flaws.
He abandoned the great expectations his father had placed in him, refusing to add fuel to the approaching fires of war. Instead, he put his tireless Construct body to use by pursuing a license as a psychiatric physician.
His father berated him as a coward who'd give up eating for fear of choking, too afraid to pursue the advancement of civilization and technology. Nemo offered no defense, and from that day forward, cut all ties with his family.
It wasn't until years later, after working at a rural psychiatric hospital, that Nemo reconnected with his father—he encountered the initial victims of the Chaos Contamination.
Dr. Nemo, we already ran tests on the patient in Bed 12 the day before yesterday. Why are you requesting additional examinations?
Several readings seem abnormal.
The same ones you've been reporting? Just forget about it. It's clearly schizophrenia no matter how you look at it. We have plenty of patients with similar symptoms. Why are you so fixated on this one?
We have other patients showing similar <color=#ff4e4eff>abnormalities</color>?
Yeah, I'd say it's best to let it go. Your reports on Bed 12 never really caught anyone's eye before. The hospital's already swamped—don't add more stress for yourself.
If you're really set on following it through, take it to a major hospital. A small facility like ours doesn't have the proper equipment anyway.
...
No one cared, and no one thought about investigating.
After careful deliberation, Nemo compiled his findings into a report and sent it to his father, whom he hadn't contacted in years.
Days later, a mysterious fire broke out in the inpatient department.
Security! Hold the patients down and get them to the first floor! Don't let any of them escape!
We've got Bed 12 under control, but Bed 13—Security!
Let go of me! There's no time left! Everyone must know the truth!!
We need to evacuate now! The fire's still spreading!!
Pin this guy down first! He's gonna make trouble for us on the way out if we don't!
Dr. Nemo!
Hold him down! I'm going to inject him with fospropofol disodium!
But his weight...
I remember his weight and dosage. We need to administer it now! Keep him steady!
The three of them pinned the struggling man down on the relatively safe stairway as Nemo prepared to inject the sedative, when suddenly...
H-hey... Did you hear something?
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the oxygen line in the ward violently exploded.
The blast sent the railing crashing into the wall, hurling it toward the three people restraining the patient.
The investigation concluded that the incident was caused by degraded electrical wiring—despite having been inspected just last month—which resulted in the fire.
Several patients attempted to flee during the chaos but were later caught and transferred to a larger hospital.
Only Nemo survived, having become a Construct. Though he left the hospital taking responsibility for the incident, this twist of fate inadvertently saved him from being further infected by Chaos Contamination.
The incident was later classified as an anomalous event triggered by the termination of a Chaos Contamination incubation cycle. The vanguard team conducted an investigation and implemented corrective measures.
However, as long as the Chaos Contamination remained uncontained, any attempt to correct the past would only lead to the same outcome, or something even worse.
This is our fault. We should've left the past alone... Things wouldn't have turned out like this.
It's far too late for that now.
...
We're outliers to those infected. To solve it from the root, you have to be the one to do it.
Kill them, Nemo. Release them from their suffering.
The dream's vision suddenly ends here, traveling through the Fog and stars before settling in a place not entirely unfamiliar.
...
It should have been just another ordinary afternoon when Professor Trout was invited to provide pro bono medical services at the Science Council's internal hospital.
While waiting for the next patient, he received a cryptic message.
▁▂▁▇▅▂▄▁▃▆▃▆▁▂zero-point energy▁▂▁▇▆▃▆▁▂will cause▅▂▄▁▃
The message came with an attachment that could not be opened.
Trout paid little mind to it at first. Being a well-known figure, he was accustomed to the irrelevant messages that often flooded his inbox. Yet, it was the peculiar timestamp that caught his attention.
December 25, 2197?
The date displayed in the top-left corner of his terminal read December 25, 2150.
A message from the future?
Just as he tried to examine it more closely, the mail vanished, replaced by new content.
Contamination▁▂▁▇▅▂▄Report
This message also came with an inaccessible attachment. Once again, it only lasted for a second before vanishing and being replaced by new content.
Chaos▁▂▁▁▁▇▅▂▇▅▂▄Data
Still, an inaccessible attachment and mail content that vanished instantly.
Construct▁▁▇▅▂Technology▂▄▁Force Field▃▆Data
Still the same as before, it continued to intrigue Trout—but interest was all it could remain.
The messages could not be opened or even recorded, leaving Trout at a dead end.
Note: According to Nemo, the vanguard team had attempted to send data to the Science Council of the past.
These messages contained warnings about zero-point energy attracting the contaminating memetic, research reports on contaminating memetics,
data about Chaos Contamination, and information on Construct technology and force fields.
Even without human carriers, the very act of sending information and data to the past would result in the Chaos Contamination corrupting the messages.
These messages were randomly scattered to various locations. Most people never even saw their fleeting contents, and those who did simply dismissed them as spam or virus notifications.
To turn the tide of defeat, time travel is essential.
But using time travel would only further spread the Chaos Contamination. The future where Nemo exists is already beyond salvation.
Note: To this day, it remains unknown if the Dominik in this world...
or the person bearing the same expectations—ever received similar messages.
Whether they, too, were unable to read the complete contents, or if they did read everything but made different plans.
(in a different handwriting) He was never one to back down. He wouldn't stop exploring just because zero-point energy might attract the contaminating memetic.
Regardless, those mysterious messages came to an abrupt end here.
One week later, at the same location and precisely at noon, Trout received another message from the future.
Hello, I▆▁▂▄▁▅▇▃How is the world where you are?
This time the message did not vanish. Driven by curiosity and seeking a bit of entertainment, Trout composed a reply.
Hello, I'm glad to receive your message. The world I'm in isn't ideal. We have plenty of perfectly healthy lunatics going around hurting people.
About a minute passed before another message arrived, but its sending date was several days later than the previous one.
Do you also need▁▃▆▃and kill the infected? They▁▂▁▇▅▂▄▁▃ symptoms are similar to schizophrenia.
They have typical▁▂▂▄▁▁▇▅▃, and▁▂▄▃▆▁▂▄▁▅▇▃▆▅▄▁▁. The only solution is to kill them preemptively.
Although the term "the infected" eluded Trout's comprehension, he was already writing a book detailing his manipulation and coercion of individuals deemed "not guilty by reason of insanity" into taking their own lives.
Revealing a few secrets to this mysterious sender in exchange for a sense of openness didn't strike Trout as a bad move.
Yes, it seems we share the same regrets. How many have you gotten rid of yourself?
When the reply arrived, its sending date was actually several months earlier than before, as if the sender's time was constantly being altered.
Hospital▂▄, 106 people.
Soon after, he received another message with an even earlier sending date.
107,▁▂▁my father too.
Alright, with this, you've taken care of all the infected ones within your reach.
Keep the force field-equipped protective suit. Welcome to the vanguard team.
No, I don't want to...
Where are you off to next, then? Planning to atone for those you've killed by taking your own life?
...I'm just tired of it all.
Our team is running short on capable people, and your father even spoke of you to Dominik before he was infected. If you truly wish to die, make it count for something at least.
...
At this rate, there won't be a single living human left in this world soon.
...
Then how about this? Dominik's next plan might call for a sacrifice.
Well? Give me an answer.
...Sure.
For Professor Kilgore Trout, who stayed at the Science Council to provide free medical consultation, the third message from the future arrived just a few days after the previous one.
The sender, however, seemed like someone on a business trip—the time of transmission kept changing along with their location.
Is there someone▁▂Dominik▁▇world where you▁▂▄?
Are you referring to the founder of the Science Council?
Yes▁▂please▄▁find Do▁▂▁k
I went looking but didn't get to meet Dominik. I'll try again later.
Please▄▁find Do▁▂▁k
I didn't get to meet that busy person today, but I did catch up with Dominik's assistant and shared these future messages with her.
She denied everything, brushed it off as a prank, and mentioned that the Science Council had no intentions of developing a time machine.
Do▁▂▁k, forgot▁▂▁guard team?
I met with Dominik today and brought up these messages again. Dominik claimed to have no recollection of them, similar to what the assistant said.
▁▂forgot▁▂▄▃?
He abandoned the▁▂▄▃team?
W▁▂▄▃y?
Maybe this disregard was needed. While we talked, I felt like it wasn't that Dominik completely forgot; those details just didn't seem to matter much to Dominik.
What I mean is, Dominik's attitude was more like someone who had just... "heard" bits and pieces about future events.
Perhaps this Dominik isn't the person you're looking for, but rather someone whose situation is similar to the relationship between you and me?
This is merely speculation, of course.
Will you▁▂trust▁▂▁help us?
I've grown weary of this world. I'm open to some crazy projects, but you'll need to tell me what exactly needs to be done first.
Besides that, I have one last personal matter to attend to.
#Professor Kilgore Trout Makes Public "Confession" in His New Autobiography
A reporter from a news agency received the latest "novel" by Professor Kilgore Trout.
Except for early life anecdotes, the book details how the "protagonist," a psychiatrist of fifteen years, manipulated and drove 13 individuals to suicide.
All were patients he had treated for mental illnesses, with the latter half of the book including the actual case files of the 13 patients.
One of the patients bore an identical name to the mastermind behind the museum arson case from 15 years ago. Professor Trout's family members were among the victims of that incident.
After repeated verification of the book's authenticity, the reporter decided to report to the police.
#7411 People Initiated Joint Petition for March in Support of Professor Kilgore Trout
As a renowned psychiatrist and psychologist, Professor Kilgore Trout has helped countless patients and assisted the police in solving numerous cold cases.
The 13 people he incited to commit suicide all had criminal records but were largely exempt from punishment due to their mental illnesses.
According to the reporter's detailed investigation, during the fifteen years Professor Trout worked as a psychiatrist...
...He assisted the police in identifying around 100 criminal cases involving mentally ill individuals, with 13 believed to have been driven to suicide.
In an interview, he disclosed his motive: to test if those who justify murder with mental illness would themselves resort to the same reasoning for suicide.
And yet, it still hasn't stopped people from speaking out for him.
So far, 7411 people have initiated a joint petition online and organized an offline march.
#Determination of Sentence for Professor Kilgore Trout May Prove Difficult
The police have yet to discover further evidence linking Professor Kilgore Trout to the 13 suicides after his last autobiography was sent out.
Supporters have raised doubts about whether the autobiography was actually written by Professor Kilgore Trout himself.
Was it by a journalist who has been bribed to send the professor's reputation down the drain? Was the professor forced to write the autobiography?
#Professor Kilgore Trout Signed Death Row Inmate Body Experiment Agreement
Before leaving, he smiles at the reporters and says:
I want to delve into more possibilities before the world meets its end, regardless of where I may find myself.
#Significant Progress Made in Experiment for Uploading Mind Data
Mind data can now be fully integrated into humanoid bodies—these entities are designated as "Constructs".
Reports indicate that after his consciousness was digitized, Professor Trout offered invaluable information and methodological insights to researchers, propelling the advancement of Construct research to new heights.
Incident Report
Kilgore Trout's mind data has been lost.
It's as if it was deleted, but that's impossible. Someone must be helping him. Consciousness data doesn't just vanish into thin air. This demands immediate investigation.
He "escaped".
Nemo: I hope▂▄▁doing well, Profe▁▂▄▁Trout.
Trout: Our current technology is limited. My consciousness is cluttered with too many other voices, but the digitization process remains necessary.
Trout: You seek someone to take over Agent Zero's authority, and I'm curious to see what possessing such power would be like. But first, one must shed their human vessel.
Nemo: But my▁▂▄▃▆▁limited. I hope▆▁▂nik will▁▂▄preparations, or this will all be in vain.
Nemo: Of course... if he▁▂▄▁▅everything, we won't have any room to intervene.
Trout: Let's treat this as a contingency then. After all, this world still lacks the means to freely rewind time.
Nemo: Why didn't you tell everyone about the▂▄▃▆▁warning?
Trout: Do you think that would have made any difference?
Mister... Is this the place?
Following Trout's instructions, Lithos carried the container housing Trout's consciousness and lurked in Constellia for days before finally sneaking into the underground hidden floor.
After a long wait, precisely at the ignition of Zero-point Reactor One and the outbreak of the Punishing Virus, a strange rift materialized before Lithos.
A young man staggered out of the rift, collapsed before Lithos, and reached out his hand.
Give me... Trout's consciousness.
That marked their first encounter.
What happened to the Hetero Tower's core you mentioned?
...The core can't be destroyed, and neither can Agent Zero. If I brought the core with me, she would follow... so I left it with the "bridge"...
As Nemo had predicted, the <phonetic=Agent Zero>contaminating memetic</phonetic> of this world did not appear, likely due to Dominik's more thorough preparations.
Yet the rift that the Bridge Across Dreams failed to seal still stood as a subtle reminder—the future threat remained uneliminated. Agent Zero still existed, and the Hetero Tower would appear again.
Perhaps he should never have come here at all—perhaps he should have "perished" there along with everyone from that future. But would that truly solve everything once and for all?
Moreover, everything he had witnessed continued to remind him—merely containing <phonetic=Agent Zero>the contaminating memetic</phonetic> within Gestalt was far from enough.
...
At the moment, Vonnegut sits in his room, poring over these records.
His consciousness, merged with those of numerous death row inmates who participated in mind digitization experiments, was implanted into Nemo's body.
For an impossibly long time, his mind remained in chaos. Noises constantly interfered with his thoughts, sometimes even disrupting his actions—a maddening loss of control for a professor who had always carried himself with such composure.
Though terrified by these occasional glimpses of erratic behavior, Lithos remained steadfastly by the professor's side. After all, this was the man who once saved his life.
It was during that time that he gradually became aware of Luna's transformation into an agent. Through careful observation, he unraveled how she connected to the Ascension-Network.
—A coincidence, yes, but one that could be replicated.
The <phonetic=noises>others</phonetic> who merged with his consciousness in the M.I.N.D. could inherently increase the weight of information. After an extensive process of organization, he finally obtained power equal to that of an agent.
To maintain control, he must trim away the noises, excise unwanted consciousnesses. Yet, to maintain his authority as an agent, he must preserve these very same consciousnesses.
Even now, these chaotic, remorseful voices continue to urge forward both filtering and evolution. They yearn to leave regret behind, to become truly omnipotent.
Even now, the slightest lapse sends him spiraling into dreams of madness.
—Who exactly am I?
—Am I truly lucid and in control of this <phonetic=Nemo and Trout>"self"</phonetic> that I am?
Under these persistent self-interrogations, he donned his mask, maintaining a series of intentionally disquieting habits—all to keep every consciousness within his M.I.N.D. on edge, to ensure his own existence.
This collection of chaotic memories made whole—the mask bestowed upon them a singular, unified identity.
These self-imposed moments of discomfort served as a way to verify whether he still maintained control over himself.
Torn between these two states, he silently endured the first two decades following the outbreak of the Punishing Virus.
This world seemed peaceful enough—the Punishing Virus, in contrast to the Chaos Contamination, proved more detectable and less lethal.
Yet, it remained dangerous, harboring, at the very least, the potential for catastrophe.
This premonition of his came true the moment the Red Tide erupted. Yet the traits of the Red Tide, particularly those Red Tide Projections, heralded an entirely new possibility.
Every voice within his M.I.N.D. called out with their remorse, hoping the Red Tide could preserve the deceased and grant the lost souls a second chance at life.
...
Even now, he can still vividly recall the turmoil at that time.
It seemed to have taken him tremendous effort before he finally managed to regain his sense of purpose.
He steeled his resolve to trim away and excise the <phonetic=noises>others</phonetic> from his M.I.N.D.
Mister, I'm glad you've made this decision and entrusted the operation to me...
As his mind finally grew clearer, he began to notice that the origin of the Red Tide bore striking similarities to the Chaos Contamination.
—It seemed everything was far from over.
Was it the Fog? Had it seeped into somewhere unnoticed? Countless questions lingered amid the noises, offering no definitive answers.
Mister, this will be your third operation... It might damage your M.I.N.D...
The more he faced the Red Tide, the more apparent the Hetero Tower's growth became.
He must prepare the "Key" now. Losing the Hetero Tower would be more catastrophic than anything else.
Make Hetero-Creatures... more human?
Let's begin with creatures like those on Earth—fish or insects will suffice. We should take this experiment one step at a time.
He never revealed his true intentions to Lithos. Advancing the Red Tide's evolution aligned perfectly with the whispers from the Ascension-Network, and Lithos eagerly embraced this mission.
...
Upon reviewing the existing data, Vonnegut rubs his pen in contemplation before updating new records on his terminal:
Due to the Constellia incident, Chiko Kirishima's M.I.N.D. has remained stable.
Babylonia has obtained more complete data through her elimination. As the specific contents remain unknown, it's unclear whether the humans are devising countermeasures, or if the increased volume of data is simply prolonging the analysis process.
The Hetero Tower's manifestation was one month later than the previous time, yet still earlier than initially estimated. Last time, its premature appearance might have been due to the humans completing their preparations and establishing positioning coordinates.
This time, it may be because Agent Zero has regained full authority.
The silver lining is that even after its manifestation, the Hetero Tower still lacks a core, preventing Agent Zero from seizing it.
And now...
Vonnegut glances at the time—May 10th. According to the correct timeline, the Gray Raven Commandant has been missing for just over a month.
The Cradle of Deep Blue project continues to advance, though he has faced numerous failures in the process. Each key discovered has proven imperfect.
After repeated tests, only the Gray Raven Commandant has proved compatible with his plans. Everyone else has encountered varying degrees of complications.
If he were to place this true Commandant <color=#ff4e4eff>right before him</color>, rescued from the Hetero Tower, into the Cradle of Deep Blue...
...
No point in feigning sleep now that you're awake.
He speaks to the person lying on the bed a few steps away.
