Глава 15

'I've spoken to Dr. Kal'tsit. I will not suffer this mockery of memory and emotion.'

Every operator on Rhodes Island hears Mantra's voice in their head. It is her Originium Arts, the power and fury of which all of them can sense.

'If it tries to stop us with silence—'

'—Then I will be the voice that connects us.'

'Now, I return your voices to you.'

It's Mantra!

She's sharing the information that the others have collected.

Ascalon and Misery are close to the Abyss.

They've sent over the Abyss's signal profile to Raidian, who will be able to trace it, even if the spatial environment changes again.

They are currently holding position, helping Raidian establish an information anchor based on their own biosignals.

It's too dangerous.;They need reinforcements.

Blaze and Rosmontis are on their way. It won't take long.

I'm worried about Dr. Kal'tsit too, Doctor.

Raidian's information indicates that Dr. Kal'tsit is in a dangerous predicament...

Regroup at Ascalon and Misery's position.

Then, we'll work together to find a way through the Abyss.

We won't make Kal'tsit wait too long.

Yeah. We're able to maintain communications thanks to Raidian and Mantra's Arts, but this puts a lot of stress on both of them.

Time is of the essence, Doctor. Let's go.

You carefully lead Amiya through a forest of Originium shards. Your ability to precisely predict when and where explosions will occur is a major advantage.

Focused on the path ahead, you fail to notice a little detail on the massive crystal formation that you just passed.

It is not your figures that are reflected in the smooth surface of the Originium crystal.

A Cautus girl with her back to you, her thin, fragile hand held by another, just like you and Amiya right now.

We peruse and interpret the past and future of our civilization, as a monk seeks a revelation from his god.

Humans enjoy talking about the possible futures for their civilization, do they not?

At first, we flaunted what little vestige of truth we managed to grasp, and attempted to converse with the 'gods'.

We were answered with silence.

Then, we began to observe the fates of our own kind—

Some were less advanced than us, some slightly more so... in the end, what we learned was that death was the inevitable end of all the creations of nature.

And so humanity inferred that this was the revelation the gods never spoke.

In an instant, we thought we had grasped the truth of the universe.

We carefully 'monopolized' the revelation gained through sacrifice, and preached the inevitability of doom with so-called optimism.

'Death is the inevitable end of all the creations of nature. All we can do is to leave behind the truth before our doom.'

You've lived on that ship for some time, and come to know some adorable lifeforms. Do you agree with this assessment?

You don't agree with the Presence?

I respect them.

They were great people, but most of them were simply fools slightly smarter than the others.

Why are you asking me this? And... why have you brought me here?

We were in that corridor just a moment ago.

Here or there, it makes no difference.

You have too many questions, questions that this place can answer.

What is this place?

The graveyard of civilization's memory.

Towering statues made of unknown materials stand upon the vast expanse.

Ripples spread outwards in every direction, up towards the sky beyond the dark clouds, and down towards the grey-white ground.

Out in the vastness of the universe, civilization was born, like a drop of water falling into the ocean, leaving ripples in its wake.

They cross paths, love, hate, and eventually die.

The ripples of dead civilizations are forever etched upon this tombstone. Even after the bright stars of the forebears who inspired so many that came after them are long gone—

They still leave behind an incomparable impact on the universe. It is the ripples they left behind that form this land upon which we stand.

Their legacy fosters new civilizations, which in turn leave their own traces upon the universe.

But it seems... broken? Like a tree trunk snapped in half.

You're not the first to describe it that way.

Once, someone very important to me said the same.

An absolute, ultimate presence tirelessly reaps the branches that sprout from this poor trunk, yet we know nothing about It.

What you've shown me is like... a miracle...

You saved me... from disintegration...

...God.

'God'?

I'm just a humble linguist attempting to explain the universe.

My name is Priestess.

And, strictly speaking, I did not save you.

Your death has already occurred. I did not intervene in the process of matter being converted to information.

But material destruction is not true death. Information is not so easily erased, and your information was stored in Originium.

B-But I can think. I felt I was living when I was on the ship. All this vivid—

A stream of data repeated over and over.

I intentionally left behind fragments of history in order to observe our past lives.

So this is like a dream?

'Dream' is vague and subjective. Do not allow language to lead you to meaningless self-doubt, before you have touched its fundamental nature.

You may understand this as a snapshot from the past that I have recorded in the form of information.

But it's nothing more than a still frame. There is no future for it.

Then why am I here?

I saw you at the instant of your death.

Someone disturbed me. It was a coincidence, a whim of probability.

So... I'm not special.

Oh but you are, Hierda. You, and those like you, are very special.

Originium has shaped you into what you are. You have interacted with Originium in wondrous ways.

Your history and your civilization all exist because of Originium.

But Originium has also brought so much pain...

Yes. It was a mistake. Your existence was not part of the plan.

What?!

Do you mean that the people on Terra shouldn't exist?

No, you misunderstand.

Your civilization was born of probability. Just like you, standing here right now, it exists in time on an objective basis.

Born of probability, and lost to probability. It is the most basic rule of the universe.

The Cautus needs time to digest it all.

Originium brought destruction to her, but also consolation and infinite knowledge in this frozen time.

She feels lonely, but no pain. If there is one thing right now that could cause pain, it would be—

Terra... my home...

It was not blessed by God...

She turns around to look behind her.

The land stretches as far as the eye can see, rippling like mountains extending infinitely.

She cannot see the end, nor any trace of Terra.

But she knows that the land is just within reach, if she only stretched out her hand.

<i>Terra.</i>

Is it doomed...?

The 'god' looks up at the megastructure and does not answer.

Father Bishop...

Does that future you're always talking about really exist?

Doctor, be careful!

Originium activity in this area far exceeds Dr. Kal'tsit's estimations. Originium crystals are growing at a breakneck pace...