On the far side of time and space, "I" also take my first step forward.
(First... foot...)
One foot, steps forward, touching the ground.
(Foot... the other one...)
The other foot, follows... falls down.
Huff...
(Must... go... forward...)
(Need to... go forward...)
Stop. There is. A man.
Ah, <b>you've</b> finally arrived, my most successful creation.
"You"?
I. Repeat. And imitate.
This is the final <b>door</b>. When I <b>open</b> it, you may pass through, and on the other side is the nourishment you'll need for your kind.
Male. Crouch. Waves. Arms. At me.
(Opening, for "me.")
Before I open the door for you... would you like to have a <b>name</b>?
"Name"?
Oh, you <b>tilted your head</b>? Are you just repeating what I said, or are you actually thinking about it?
Hahaha... you're just like a monkey, or wait, could a monkey even get this far? I've... made it so perfectly... I'm <b>dying</b> of laughter...
Male, tilt head? Dying of laughter? Dying of laughter? Tilt head?
Something, inside my body, pulsing.
Come now, since I am the <b>Creator</b>, it must be me who bestows upon you a name... how about "<b>Eve</b>"?
Creator..."Eve."
Eve.
Hahahahaha! Indeed! You are my most satisfactory creation, truly worthy of being a child born from my genes! You will be the species that stands on this planet in the future... brand new and perfect! You deserve this name.
Creator, laughs, "opens" door.
Come, I've opened the door for you—the thickest <b>gate</b> in this gene bank has been unlocked for you.
I look toward the gate.
I repeat, I imitate.
(Gate, black... I, want to go inside.)
Creator, crouches, waves, arms, at me.
Come on, just <b>step</b> forward like that, behind this lies your Eden, so make yourself comfortable and enjoy the fruit of life.
(Steps forward.)
Don't be afraid, I'm nothing like the god who abandoned humanity. I am the Lord who loves you the most, so the entire Eden belongs to you, and those apples won't bring any evil consequences.
(Steps forward.)
Follow your instincts, go <b>devour</b>, go <b>seize</b>, go <b>imitate</b>, go <b>learn</b>, go <b>evolve</b>! Cross through this door! The guards inside can be regarded as the lowest <b>excrement</b>, just ignore them!
"Excrement."
Come on! <b>Run</b>!
(Runs.)
<b>Run</b> faster! Yes!
(Runs faster.)
Huff...
Fast, quick steps, quick steps.
I approach the Creator with quick steps.
Huff...
I move like the wind, approaching the Creator.
I stop... in the Creator's eyes—I, see me.
Hahaha! Why are you staring at me? You won't see your true self through a human's eyes. Keep running!
Creator stops, waves, I must, continue running.
I move my legs.
That's it! That's it! Keep going! Hahahahaha...
...
I watch the Creator, I step forward, I run quickly.
I leave the gate behind.
I, enter the world.
The sound of wind from running, the exhilarating sensation of striding forward—but the newborn "Eve" clearly hasn't yet comprehended these feelings.
Eve quickly darts into a room filled with transparent bottles and containers, instinctively concealing herself in the darkness.
...Who's there?
...
Anyone there? I'm supposed to be the only one on duty today... Nobody said anything about sending interns to the island.
Eve's gaze penetrates through the spaces between the shelves, catching sight of a young person wearing a white coat.
(Excrement.)
The white-coated researcher, completely oblivious to the anomaly in the facility, slowly approaches the specimen rack where Eve is hiding—
(Arches her body.)
—Fortunately, he stops right before the corner.
...Maybe I'm just being paranoid. It's not like this place is haunted, geez.
The researcher shrugs while standing in place, then turns and heads toward another corner.
...
As the researcher leaves, Eve leaps out from the shelves and pounces on the nearest set of specimens.
It observes carefully. In the stacked glass containers, countless living embryos tremble weakly, their movements imperceptible to human eyes.
Seize, devour.
Crunch, crunch—Eve bites through the glass, drawing the researcher who had just left back to the scene.
What's that noise again? Don't tell me we have mice in here—AAAGH!!
！
The container in the researcher's hands crashes to the floor, shattering completely. He stumbles backward, pointing at "Eve," his throat producing sharp, shrill sounds. The "expression" on his face is something even Eve finds difficult to comprehend.
Y-y-y-you th-th-this...
Excrement.
W-w-what AAAAAAHHH—ALARM! ALARM! ALARM!!!
The "excrement" continues screaming in Eve's eyes, clearly about to slam the red alarm button on the wall.
Excrement, run. I, take.
Five minutes later, the limp human remains slide off Eve, leaving behind trails of sticky blood as the last proof of his existence.
Eve's purpose is to evolve. She physically eliminated the excrement and absorbed a twisted form of emotion from him.
(Switches to a [Terrified] expression.)
[Terror].
Eve chews on [Terror], feeling a profound sense of shock and panic from deep within, an intoxicating stimulation—no wonder humans voluntarily seek out [Terror] in various activities.
Eve changes into the excrement's uniform, wrapping herself completely to conceal her "terrified" expression. She then steps out and walks down the corridor.
She savors the genetic information from the embryos, though completely learning it all will take more time.
No one passing by notices what happened in the small room. Everyone wrapped in identical thick protective suits walks numbly through the corridor, brushing past her without a second glance.
Excrement.
Her gaze drifts across this heap of excrement, the bloodthirsty desire from the depths of her soul compelling her to act.
—But now is not the time.
Resist, keep moving.
She is the first of a new world. She must overcome her most primal desires to evolve into a new, perfect human.
Guard Room
21:00:00
A pair of fours.
Pair of sevens.
The card game has just begun. Several soldiers lean back in their chairs, listlessly tossing down a few low cards.
What a <b>pain</b>... I heard there's trouble outside again. The port nearest to this island has fallen. They say quite a few people died in the conservation area... It's madness.
Looks like we made the right choice coming to this island back then. We've been stuck here for over a decade, but at least it's safe. Those Corrupted haven't managed to swim across the <b>ocean</b> yet.
Hey, it's your turn. You're not going to play against a pair of sevens? Hurry up.
The senior soldier frowns at the young recruit in the corner, who clutches his cards, fumbling clumsily to arrange them in order.
Oh-oh, it's my turn. A pair of... a pair of eights.
Splitting your hand? No need. We're just playing casually, and we're not playing for stakes. You don't have to throw us easy cards.
Okay, okay, okay! I'll play properly, I promise!
...What are you so nervous about?
Relax. You haven't been on this island for long, so you don't know the situation here yet. Sure, there's some research project running, but this place is just a gene bank, it's nothing mission-critical. It's actually voted as "Best Place to Coast Until Retirement" in the unofficial poll among Kurono personnel.
Oh, oh... Thanks, thank you all for telling me this... I just... I just...
The young man's gaze drifts to the ceiling, where a security camera emits a faint red glow, its lens trained on the soldiers playing cards below.
I'm just a bit worried about the <b>cameras</b>. They seem to be everywhere, so I thought security was really strict here...
Who cares about those! Let the higher-ups watch if they want—it's not our problem. This <b>damn</b> world is ending anyway, so why not enjoy ourselves while we can?
Pair of Kings.
？
What? He plays a pair of 8s, and you just throw down a pair of Kings?
The masked soldier in the corner silently nods, indicating that this is exactly how they intend to play. With an unfamiliar build, they deem the soldier to be another newcomer to the unit.
Fine, I can't beat that. Your turn, let's see just how amazing your hand really is.
Clap!
The silent masked soldier slowly draws out a pair of cards and throws them down, making a crisp sound as they hit the table.
Pair of 3s.
...Hahaha! I was wondering why you were in such a rush to play those Kings, turns out you've been hiding a pair of 3s you were afraid of getting stuck with!
Go on, go on, you youngsters take your turn. I'll cut you amateurs some slack.
The senior soldier waves his hand dismissively.
P-pair of 5s.
Pair of 5s? Let me see... The way that guy's been breaking up combinations has left us in a tough spot...
Hey, it's already past nine. Why haven't those researchers gone to dinner yet?
They're probably working overtime and getting chewed out again. A new boss arrived with your batch of new guards a few days ago. Looked normal enough, but he's actually a total workaholic, forcing them to hit KPIs every day, turning scientific research into some performance metrics game.
The senior soldier eyes the security camera, and then lowers his voice.
He really tears into them. Yesterday he yelled at the researchers, saying "You can't produce any actual research, demand better rations, then turn around and create disgusting abominations"... Hahaha...
Pft! He's not wrong though! Hahahaha...
The duty room is filled with cheerful laughter, except for the two newcomers in the corner playing cards haphazardly.
Maybe... we should go <b>check</b> on them?
Since I got here, I've been watching them. No matter what, those researchers always maintained a healthy routine and ate their meals on time... But today, I haven't heard a single sound from them... not a single one.
Haha! Those researchers probably caused some big commotion and got themselves killed—just like in those old Golden Age movies, where researchers recklessly try to capture monster embryos, only for the monsters to escape and <b>slaughter</b> them all.
...Does that... really happen?
The duty room falls into unanimous silence. It's the masked soldier's turn to play, but they sit there holding the cards, motionless.
Now why did you say that? Look, you've scared the new kid.
...I was just joking, don't take it seriously, though these things have happened elsewhere...
Clap!
Another crisp sound of cards hitting the table draws everyone's gaze—
The masked soldier throws down a set of jokers, covering a modest "pair of threes."
...Don't you understand the rules of the game?
The Senior Soldier exchanges a quick glance with the Middle-aged Soldier, holding his cards in one hand while the other slowly reaches toward his waist.
—But the Young Soldier has already drawn his weapon and jumped to his feet, kicking over the masked newcomer's chair.
Take off that mask!! I've been wondering who you are this whole time...! I don't remember someone like you arriving!!
****! This hothead just went for it!
The atmosphere in the duty room suddenly grows tense as the other two soldiers also draw their weapons and stand up, aiming at the masked soldier who's climbing to their feet in the corner.
With three guns pointed at them, the masked soldier slowly raises both hands, attempting to remove their mask.
Don't move!
The Senior Soldier yanks off the mask before the other can do it themselves.
A crude imitation of a "terrified" expression appears before everyone, twisted to the point of being unsettling.
Alarm bells blare throughout the facility.
She takes off running.
Eve dashes out of the duty room under the flashing alarms. Unable to clean off the fragments of blood and flesh, she discards the cumbersome human clothing. It quickens its pace, hastily escaping.
Excrement pursues her.
STOP IT!!
A burst of gunfire comes from behind. It seems the old soldier managed to pull the alarm before dying, summoning a group of soldiers.
(Rolls to dodge.)
The duty room is...! ****, it's a massacre! That thing is definitely a monster!
Eve tries to use all four limbs, but her evolving body no longer adapts to this primitive mode of movement. She can only stumble forward on two feet.
Trouble.
A bullet penetrates Eve's "shoulder," splashing foul-smelling black fluid. Her evolving blood hasn't fully formed yet, leaving only this substitute to transport energy throughout her body.
What?! Disgusting! What the hell is that thing?!
Just searched the area—the research lab's compromised too! Activate emergency protocols!! That thing running ahead...
As the "excrement" soldiers call out, more and more people realize something is wrong.
—That thing is definitely not human!!!
Trouble!
Increasingly dense firepower concentrates behind Eve, impossible to escape, impossible to dodge. High-velocity bullets attack mercilessly, tearing apart her recently formed shell that mimics a human body.
Trouble! Troubletroubletroubletrouble!
Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble Trouble
Excrement!!
Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement Excrement
Excrement!! Damn it!!!
At a corner along her escape route, several armed figures suddenly rush out.
Kill—Excrement!
Eve lunges forward, opening her enormous maw. The sickening split in her face tears all the way to her ears, yet it's still not enough...
Devour! Eat! Eat the excrement!
(Chomp!)
Blood splatters, bones crack, flesh tears—the sound resembling fabric being ripped apart. The human researcher's head is savagely torn from their body, then swallowed in a single gulp.
Devour... Seize... Mimic... Learn...
Evolve.
...!!!
Eve rapidly processes the information obtained from the "excrement," comprehending various complex emotions through the act of mastication.
Among them, one particularly light emotion attracts her more than any other, far surpassing the feeling of "terror." It nearly gushes from her chest, compelling her to express it no matter what.
So [happy].
Eve perches on the shoulders of the headless researcher, unable to resist throwing her head back and flashing an absolutely radiant smile at her pursuers.
Hehe.
The world's first "New Human"—Eve—escapes from the gene bank facility and reaches the surface of the isolated island.
She has devoured enough samples along the way, her body overflowing with information that is continuously processed inside her. From the moment she crossed that doorway until now, this journey of rebirth has been nothing short of a "complete success."
If she jumps into the sea... even if she can't cross the vast ocean, simply hiding underwater for a while will ensure her complete success.
In the moment before leaping into the sea, Eve turns back one last time to look at her pursuers.
Her pursuers will never feel [happy] again—because the swarm of Eve's kind has left the nest together. Every "I" seeks to evolve. Every "I" hunts the excrement.
Excrement is excrement, meant to obediently serve as stepping stones for the New Humans' advancement.
Eve stares at their terror-stricken faces and can't help but broadcast her [happiness] with wild abandon.
Hehe, goodbye.
It stands at the shore's edge and leaps forward in a single bound.
(Leaps into the ocean.)
We win!
The bubbles formed by her plunge gurgle in her ears, a dense constellation congratulating the newborn human species.
Eve surrenders to gravity's gentle pull, slowly sinking to the ocean floor.
The countless genes she has stolen rapidly break down and evolve within her body. In each new moment, she sees countless meanings in the species known as "Old Humans."
It tries to understand everything, like how the emotion of the first human it encountered was [terror]. And going further back in its memories... the man who conceived its birth... the man who encouraged it to break beyond boundaries, to seek evolution, and who bestowed upon it a name: Haynes.
His expression back then—it finally understands it now.
So it was a kind of fanatical [excitement].
[Excitement].
Suddenly, a massive wave surges from the distance, bringing with it the familiar aura of her kind—At this very moment, a ship from far away has sunk near this isolated island, and that ship carries the scent of Punishing.
Even more excitingly, Eve senses that a solitary Old Human has fallen into the ocean.
This Old Human seems somewhat different from those other worthless scraps.
(Quickly swims toward the Old Human.)
The Old Human wears a thick combat suit, a garment that only absorbs water while they drown, becoming like a boulder dragging its wearer down to the deep sea.
Through the eyes of the Punishing, the Old Human's body appears as if molded by spiraling threads of silk, emitting a faint glow.
This is a person bound by the threads of fate.
Is this a projection from some other world? Or perhaps... I'm mistaken, and this is just an ordinary Old Human struggling underwater?
(Presses against them with excitement.)
Regardless, this Old Human carries extremely rich information, worthy of a taste.
Eve's hand wraps around the Old Human's exposed ankle. She needs to devour information, but the Punishing Corruption rapidly rots the human's skin, exposing raw, crimson flesh.
The hand gripping the Old Human's ankle instinctively loosens, as a strange emotion rises within Eve's heart.
Attachment?
But the information carried by this Old Human is vast and complex, rapidly enveloping Eve. In an instant, her analysis of the entire "Old Human" species accelerates.
In her daze, countless Old Human voices seem to echo around her—men, women, elderly, children—resonating through the ocean depths like a chorus of tower bells.
The voices say:
<i>"You are my child, my precious darling."</i>
<i>"You are my little Commandant. I hope you can venture wherever you wish and make all your dreams come true."</i>
<i>"You are our hope."</i>
<i>"You are..."</i>
...
She finds herself captivated by these Old Human voices, rapidly developing a dependency on that sense of warmth.
She can't help but eagerly call out—not with the caution she uses when addressing her creator, Haynes, but simply wanting to call this person as an Old Human would:
...M-Mother<//F-Father>...
Suddenly, the gravity around Eve intensifies sharply. She's brutally ripped away from the Old Human's ankle—and in the next moment, yanked above the water's surface, dangling in midair.
▃▇▂▄█▄▄!!!
HISSSSS!!!
Eve struggles frantically, water dripping from her body back into the sea. A woman with vivid red hair stands waist-deep in the water, her face, so exquisitely crafted it becomes dangerously alluring, presses close to Eve's.
Too close▆▆▇▅▂!
I thought so... Why are the vermin on this island trying so hard to look human?
What did you eat, what delusion convinced you that you could become human?
Don't delude yourself. Let me tell you...
She stares at Eve, slowly revealing a cruel, mocking smile.
Little darling, you're nothing but a damned Hetero-Creature.
！！！
([Terrified].)
Snikt.
Vera grips an oversized lance and drives it straight through the Hetero-Creature's body.
