37-25 Tree of Life
Blindingly bright neon lights flickered across the horizon while below, sewage mingled with the endless downpour of rain.
He still remembers that dark and damp Golden Age.
In that world, the poor were deemed unworthy of sunlight, unworthy of freedom. Even fresh air was labeled a "luxury item" and sold in floating display windows.
...
The World Government gradually took shape.
...Hello, I'm Trillard.
You must be Hassen. People have been talking about you. Haha, such a promising young man...
But a new position means new expectations.
Do you accept that you will be walking a path that demands both wisdom and discretion?
...I do.
...
From the ignited zero-point reactor, the Punishing Virus erupted like a geyser, rapidly spreading across the entire world.
Sir, are you saying that... the Punishing Virus is far worse than we thought?
This is the World Government's highest-level secret. Under no circumstances can it be leaked to the outside world.
I'll give you a new identity. After that...
...Understood. I'll join the Task Force and serve as the Gaia Elephant squad's commandant.
Humanity's children... will return to Earth.
...
During the middle of the <b><ud><color=#34aff8ff><link=40>Post-Pandemic Age</link></color></ud></b>, wave after wave of Constructs sacrificed themselves on the surface battlefields.
...It's still not the time yet? The military casualty statistics have already reached staggering numbers...
It's still not the time yet.
Some things... cannot be stopped once set in motion. You know how it ended last time.
Humans back then couldn't control that kind of technology, but now—
Even now, we still can't.
Even during the Golden Age, when human civilization was at its absolute pinnacle, both the World Government and Science Council decided to seal away this technology...
In this era, I cannot and will not gamble with the nature of humanity.
The time is yet to come. I would rather bear the burden of these lives than risk the future of our entire civilization.
...You'd better be damn sure this is really your so-called "best option."
Nikola stormed out of the room.
...
Present day.
A phantom ache throbs deep in Hassen's eye socket, yanking him from his long reverie.
Before him, his terminal glows. At the top of the message queue sits a notice from the Science Council. He opens it, and Asimov's private channel materializes on the screen.
...You've got a report for me?
Alright.
We've detected a new signal from Liv's M.I.N.D. The waveform is highly chaotic. However...
It shares several fragmented frequency bands with the "dataset" used by Liv's frame.
It is not a component of the Punishing Virus, yet it maintains a parasitic relationship with it. There is a probability... it correlates with that dataset we uncovered.
...The Phylotree of Ousia. Of course.
Hassen lets out a long, heavy sigh.
How long has it been since he last heard those words? He can't even remember anymore.
So you finally said it out loud.
But I've never interfered with the Gray Raven Commandant's personal actions.
...Yet you have consistently obstructed my private research into this matter.
While the World Government and Science Council's decisions on this are classified, the "suspension of all M.I.N.D. core technology research" does represent a universal consensus.
Universal?
Yes. Universal, including all the people on the surface, Kowloong, the Transatlantic Economic Community, and even those organizations that never operate publicly. They all participated in that joint decision.
A joint decision? What about Dominik?
...
Maybe one day, I will tell you all the answers.
He remains silent at first, only slowly speaking again under Asimov's steady gaze.
And that day... may be closer than you think.
...
Asimov offers no further response, decisively ending the call.
Hassen gazes out the viewport at the stars, cold and silent in the boundless cosmos. Their distant light summons the memory of that night again, when the fires of war raged.
And so it begins... the Reconquista Age.
But now...
An urgent message flashes on his terminal. The moment he reads it, he drags the file into the shredder folder, snatches his coat, and strides out.
Babylonia
Residential District
Babylonia, Residential District.
...What do you mean Kolm Lebrant is dead?
How many times did I tell you to keep an eye on him?!
We never left his side for a moment! There wasn't anything lethal in his room either, but...
Inside the room lies the human who had obtained Babylonia residency status through the "Phylotree" lead, now "accidentally" deceased.
He's lying face down on the floor without any visible injuries...
...What's that?
Nikola furrows his brow, fixating on a tiny black spot on the side of the man's head.
Weird. That wasn't there when we checked his body earlier...
He crouches down and meticulously collects the object in an evidence bag.
Is this... a mechanical spider?
That's impossible. We didn't find anything like that on him during our inspection...
...
The sky suddenly darkens as piercing alarms blare throughout Babylonia.
WARNING. Orbital height fluctuation: minus 325 meters.
WARNING. High concentration of Punishing Virus detected.
Bang—!
Something violently crashes against Babylonia's outer defense shield.
How is this possible...?! Gestalt didn't send any warnings at all!
WARNING. Babylonia's main propulsion engines have been locked down.
Please proceed immediately to the nearest evacuation vessel.
Commander, please evacuate with us!
...Hmph.
He narrows his eyes, staring at the pitch-black void beyond the skyline.
Is this... the result you wanted?
Like a dying leviathan, the massive Babylonia falls through the void.
On its bridge, darkness has swallowed the last of the light. The final engine's exhaust flame gutters and fades into the endless night.
In its wake, panic erupts. The blare of alarms and a tide of terror now sweep through every corridor of Babylonia.
Is this the spaceport explosion all over again?
...Doesn't seem so.
The flow of the Punishing Virus... I think it's heading straight for F.O.S.
F.O.S.? What's even here besides a bunch of new recruits...
...You don't mean the stuff at the Institute of Military Medicine...
A sudden, heavy silence falls between them.
...
Notify the President. Activate emergency protocols.
I-it can't be that bad, can it? It's open house day. There are still hundreds of people out there...
There's no time.
The male instructor strides toward the central buildings of F.O.S. College.
A piercing terminal alarm shatters the silence of a secret transatlantic bunker.
...Oh?
At her terminal, the woman reads the brief intelligence report, her eyes darkening. With mild intrigue, she brushes a strand of disheveled hair from her face.
Babylonia is crashing down...? Is it confirmed?
The terminal quickly displays a response.
Well, looks like...
It's almost our time to take the stage... sister.
