The air is rapidly sucked away, sending waves of suffocating pain through Yui's mind...
Miss de Lévis—Miss de Lévis?
Yui's consciousness rapidly resurfaces.
She gasps—each breath painful to her eardrums, nearly breaking—and her chest heaves violently as she struggles to breathe, as if sucking all the air around her into a vacuum of agony.
Miss de Lévis, are you alright?!
Sensation returns as the ice-cold neural stabilizing solution sends sharp pain spreading from her body to her brain.
The cabin walls press in close, imprisoning Yui, as if she is a soulless shell in a coffin. As the transparent glass cover slowly opens, an anxious woman's face—strange yet somehow familiar—appears on the other side.
Thank goodness, you're alright!
...It's Herta.
She salvages thin shards from the murky depths of her memory, vaguely recalling who this person is.
Cough...
The sampling was set for 7 hours and 25 minutes; that's far too risky. If you continue like this, your neural system will suffer irreversible damage.
Herta studies the instruments monitoring Yui's vital signs with disapproval.
...I'm fine. Where's the capsule?
Suppressing a stiff cough in her throat, Yui turns her head to search for the mechanical consciousness model capsule.
Next to the instruments on one side, an oval cylinder about the size of a forearm lies quietly. The prototype models generated after each sampling session are stored in this capsule.
It's over there... Huh?
(Affectionate purring)
The cats gather around the capsule, examining it curiously as if they've noticed something.
Herta, puzzled, tries to pick up the capsule, but after taking just two steps, she hears a muffled thud behind her—
Miss de Lévis!
Some time later, in the laboratory.
Yui gradually regains consciousness while leaning against the experiment chamber. Artificial warm light bathes the entire room.
I've completed the examination. The prolonged sampling time caused temporary paralysis in your nervous system. But we can't extend the sampling period like this again. You'll need to rest for a while at the very least.
Yes... yes.
She flips through the machine-transmitted reports with a noncommittal expression, gesturing for Herta to bring her the capsule.
Are there any abnormalities in the model data?
No, everything is within the parameters you predicted...
This capsule, just like all the previous ones, rests quietly in her arms.
Model status normal, data normal, connecting the output port to the laboratory's Matrix interface—
Huh?
Is there a problem with the lighting system?
She slowly strokes the capsule's outer shell again—
That shouldn't be happening. The laboratory lights are controlled by the Matrix, aren't they? Could there be a problem with the Matrix itself?
It's not the lighting system.
Yui's brow furrows slightly.
The lights continue to flicker, like a newborn baby blinking and smiling.
Could it be that the lighting system is responding to the model's status?
But you haven't issued any commands yet, nor have you set up any stimulation measures...
Why would it want to control the light source?
A numbing sensation spreads from the crook of her arm as her limbs begin to weaken. Yui has no choice but to set the capsule down for a moment.
The lights return to normal...
...
Yui shakes her weakened hands and picks up the capsule once more.
It's starting to flicker again.
She silently records the frequency and amplitude of the light's variations—sine waves, cosine waves, square waves, triangle waves...
Not this one, not that one either. The pattern of light variation doesn't match any periodic function she's familiar with, almost as if...
It's just playing with the lights.
Yui...
？？！
Someone is calling her "Yui"—a name only the person she called mother ever used.
Miss de Lévis, is everything alright? I called you twice with no response. You're scaring me...
Someone... is calling my name...
...You must be exhausted. Let me take you somewhere to rest.
Herta turns around, about to take the capsule.
Yui... Sor...
It's a call composed of infantile babbling, impossibly childlike... yet Yui understands exactly what it means.
Yui slowly lowers herself to the ground. Without the strength to lift it, this is the only way she can get closer to it.
Herta, has the testing platform not disconnected the remote connection between me and the model yet?
Yes, it was still buffering earlier. Shutting it down abruptly might increase the load on your neurons. But it should be safe now. I'll go turn it off.
No need... not right now. It's calling to me, this model is.
It's... calling you?
Herta turns these words over in her mind repeatedly.
But the Chosen One models have never exhibited this kind of behavior before...
The Chosen Ones... have never developed autonomous consciousness before.
The Chosen One models are extremely complex, and each one presents different practical issues...
Before practical application, we can only use the dropout method to clear the data, simplify the neural network structure, and try to improve the model's generalization capabilities.
But this also results in neural units in the model's hidden layers being removed, turning the model into a stable hollow shell without any autonomous consciousness.
The lights continue to flicker slowly.
Could it be a new variable that emerged after filtering the memory data?
Herta helps Yui to her feet, takes the capsule from her arms and sets it aside. The lights immediately return to normal.
...
Anyway, let's give it a name first, Miss de Lévis.
Name...
Her exhausted brain almost completely shuts down.
<phonetic=1>I</phonetic>, <phonetic=2>II</phonetic>, <phonetic=3>III</phonetic>, <phonetic=4>IV</phonetic>, <phonetic=5>V</phonetic>...
What is she counting? Herta's gaze falls on several fuzzy balls... and suddenly she understands.
...let's just call it <phonetic=Six>VI</phonetic>.
The lights suddenly dim, as if expressing their displeasure.
...That's way too casual!
Too casual...?
Then let's call it <phonetic=/vi/>VI</phonetic>.
That's literally the same thing with just a different pronunciation... Herta sighs wearily.
The lights brighten slightly, suggesting a grudging acceptance at best.
Let's proceed with the model verification procedure, Herta.
You need to rest first—
Before she can finish, a faint electronic beep of an access authorization sounds from outside the door.
Well... it looks like my timing was impeccable, doesn't it?
A gaunt man appears in the doorway, cold air swirling in with him.
The new model is running smoothly, correct?
He motions with his chin for the two researchers behind him to enter as well.
This is just the initial sample; it still needs to go through further verification...
There's no need.
The two researchers push Herta aside, who stands in front of Yui, and reach for the capsule placed to the side.
...No!
Despite fatigue, Yui's body bursts with unexpected strength as she quickly grabs the capsule, clutching it tightly to her chest.
There has never been a precedent for handing over a model to another department immediately after sampling!
It's not up to you to decide the rules around here.
Horst signals to the researchers to seize the capsule Yui was protecting. Once they examine the data on the terminal, he wears a satisfied expression.
In case you've forgotten—today is the day the executive officer is visiting. Didn't I already tell you about this?
...
Amid their complex research work, they have long since forgotten Horst's occasional haughty commands.
All research results must be verified in advance to prepare for the executive officer's visit—this is essential if we want him to continue investing in this Matrix. If even one thing impresses him, we'll consider it a victory.
Though I was just trying my luck, it seems I've hit the jackpot today. Yui, you've brought us a golden egg, haven't you?
He studies the seized capsule with a satisfied smirk.
The moment it leaves Yui's body, the room's brightness subtly shifts—a change that doesn't escape his keen eyes.
Yui... Don't... Don't...
Don't leave...
Yui's body suddenly trembles.
...No, it's still just a prototype model...
She struggles to her feet and tries to retrieve the capsule, only to be violently shoved aside by the researcher.
Don't worry. This is enough—I forgive your slow progress.
The door slams shut as Horst struts away with the capsule, radiating smug satisfaction.
Under the warm-hued lights, Yui writes equations, rapidly, ceaselessly.
Numerical matrices, partial differential equations, convolution... ...As a neurosurgeon, Herta can only understand a portion of what Yui is writing... The rest ventures into territories completely unfamiliar to her.
Miss de Lévis...
She doesn't understand exactly what Yui is calculating,
but she can tell that many of these complex equations can be solved by a computer terminal without any manual calculation.
On the other hand—perhaps that is her intention. Or maybe she's not writing these equations purely to solve problems.
The erasable ink pen scratches across the laboratory—from the floor, up the walls, to the workbench...
Herta suddenly remembers that when she first met de Lévis, the laboratory was already covered in equations.
What should we... do next...?
Nothing we can do.
The two bodyguards with Horst are 1.5 times my height and are trained in martial arts. Whether we attempt a sneak attack or a direct confrontation, the combined probability of success wouldn't exceed 10 to the negative 30th power.
So there's still a chance of success?
That's the combined Matrix failure probability. Even with those odds, we'd have to assume they'd prioritize Horst's safety over protecting the capsule if there's any chance of retrieving it.
You've thought it through so clearly! So you were also thinking of—
Precisely because I don't want to waste time on this.
Miss Herta, no rational person would attempt anything with a probability on the order of 10 to the negative dozens.
Aren't you a researcher? You know VI better than anyone in the Matrix. Couldn't you use that to your advantage when negotiating with them?
...
Today is the day the executive officer is visiting, so Horst wouldn't do anything to disappoint him.
Horst was willing to take the VI capsule right in front of me. He'd be even less likely to return it in the executive officer's presence.
He's been obsessively waiting for this day, just so he can pass the inspection and gain access to the computing power of another Matrix.
...
...
When it comes down to it, it's nothing more than a model anyway.
She seems to have calmed down, stopping writing equations and moving to the lab bench to brew some coffee.
It's just a creation, after all. If it's lost, we can simply make another one.
Mechanoids and AI exist to serve humans in the first place. Now, they have fulfilled their intended purpose.
A single Matrix has insufficient computing power. That's why I constantly need to sample and optimize—because the hardware can never keep up.
But with access to ample computing resources, future research will proceed much more smoothly.
If that model can satisfy the higher-ups and lead to an expansion of the Matrix's computing power, I have no reason to stop him.
That's right... it's just a model, nothing special. Just an ordinary experimental product.
It hasn't even gone through multiple sampling iterations like the Chosen Ones. It's merely a random product of a single sampling, not worth the blood, sweat, and tears someone put into it.
Using it to secure future promotion opportunities, isn't that a pretty good deal?
On the other hand, why should I sacrifice my career prospects for the sake of a mere creation?
But something still feels... off about this whole situation...
You already understand all that perfectly well... You're voicing them out loud not to convince me... but yourself. Am I right, Miss de Lévis?
Mm, that's exactly right.
To Herta's surprise, Yui answers with complete frankness, casually taking a small sip of coffee.
It's Leibowitz espresso, so bitter that a single taste would make most people shudder, yet Yui drinks it without the slightest change in her expression.
Humans are emotional creatures, but emotional thinking rarely helps us achieve our goals. Instead, it often leads us one step closer to the abyss.
As if to remind herself to stay clearheaded, she takes another sip of coffee.
I cannot make the same mistake again.
From the day I entered the Matrix, my fate has been bound to it. It's both my lighthouse and my prison.
I'm imprisoned here, yet this place is also my reason for existing...
She picks up an eraser and methodically wipes away the equations from the floor, one by one.
The room's lights start flickering rapidly again, as if someone were continuously flipping the switch.
The sound of the wind suddenly intensifies, wailing and keening like a baby's shrill cry.
Haven't they disconnected the output devices from the capsule?!
...
It's VI. It's calling for help.
But she doesn't stop erasing the equations. Instead, her movements grow increasingly frantic.
They're running stress stimulation tests now... Is that really okay?
They're simulating traumatic scenarios like warfare, disease, and bereavement. Those are extremely painful experiences!
...
Calm down.
Even if we went there, we couldn't change anything.
Just like back then... giving away my favorite doll and recklessly searching for mother...
What did I change in the end? Didn't everything just fall apart?
My initial assessment wasn't wrong. Everything would have been in vain, maybe even counterproductive.
Staying here is the right choice.
But...
Yui... Don't... Don't go.
The pen tip glides across paper as calculations fill her mind.
Hff.
I should still stay here after all.
Huh!
Everything in the laboratory begins to shake.
Strange, why would the output device allow power levels to reach this magnitude?
I'm afraid it was authorized by the executive officer.
Ding—crash!
Something is breaking... something is breaking...
It's the sound of a coffee cup shattering.
A dull thud like a wine bottle, followed by liquid spilling—it's Miss Herta's potion vial...
Now it's the coolant container... the pen holder, the glass covers of the artificial lights...
It's all breaking... just like that time.
She can't sit still any longer.
That child is smashing everything—
She rushes out the door.
