STATUS UPDATE:

MACHINE ID:                           1000-THR_V09
LOCATION:                             UNKNOWN LOCATION
DATE [DD/MM/YYYY]:            ✕✕ . ✕✕ . 2112

FIRMWARE VERSION:                あなたは美しいです。2112

 
DAMAGE ASSESSMENT:            12.3%

Chapter 1

Memento Mori.

「そして、あの黒い鋼鉄の塔が最後にもう一度アンテナを天に向けるとき、

私たちは人類として大戦争の愚かさを思い出し、泣くでしょう。

私たちは地球とその資源を完全に冒涜したのですから、今できる唯一のことは犬のように横たわり、当然の死を待つことだけです。」

.

"-and as those towers of black steel raise their antennas to the heavens one last time,

we as a species shall remember the foolishness of the Great War and weep. For we have

utterly desecrated our planet and its resources, and the only thing that can be done now is to

lie down like dogs and await our deserved death."

-Yūto Suzuki, 14th Prime Minister of Japan.

"Hold me, Fumi."

"Please."

"I don't want to go."

"I'm scared."

"I-I don't want to go to Hell."

"Please."

Not this again. Not Eden.

The last thing she wanted to do was relive losing Eden all over again.

She tried to move. Fumi tried to move. But nothing happened.

She continued to watch.

She continued to watch as Eden bled out in her arms, her blood and gore flowing like silk between fingers. Like water through a failing plug. She watched as she screamed, begged for someone, anyone to save her. Maybe even God himself, if he existed.

But no, she had to watch as she bled out onto the circuitry of the earthmover's interior, her stomach cut open as whatever improperly installed piece of metal finally snapped from all the stress that had been put on it. She had to watch as she bled out into what was essentially the heart of the earthmover, perishing slowly, surrounded by blinking lights and colored wires as she wept desperately for a savior to come and do anything they could. 

Something. Please.

Anyone.

Save her.

Please-

"HEY!"

Fumi jolted awake as the smell of metal and rust filled her nostrils. Her portable terminal stung as it burned into her lap, and as she tried to calm down she tried to assess where she was.

...Oh, that's right. She'd fallen asleep in one of the Earthmover's crawlspaces while updating the "anti-virus" that prevented Hell Itself from taking over the only source of solace and protection like it did the other machines. Above her she could see the wires of the Earthmover's conscious poking out of the hatch she'd opened, exposed copper and silver inserted into the ports on her computer, and as she lay on her back she could barely see the shadow of someone standing outside the hatch to the crawlspace.

"Fumi, what have you been doing? It has been three fucking hours and everyone has been wondering where you are."

...

"...I'm still updating the firmware of the machine, Mr. Burchard. I-"

"You fell asleep, didn't you?"

"...yes."

Now he's going to be mad.

"Verdammt, Fumi how many times have we- no, have I talked to you about prioritizing sleep over whatever the fuck you do at night!"

"...but I don't like going to bed."

"Why? Is it because you keep on having nightmares about Eden dying?"

Yes. Precisely that.

"..."

Suddenly, Fumi felt Burchard's hands wrap around her ankles and, before she could protest, yank her out of the jagged crawlspace tearing her lab coat in the process. She took a hold of her laptop before it went crashing down to the ground and as she looked up she came face to face with the German piece of shit.

Grey beard, wrinkled face, DISGUSTING hands that would make a warthog look like a generous alternative. Ah, just the way she remembered him. She kicked his hands off her, and as she sat up to inspect the damage done to her coat Burchard opened her mouth and began speaking again.

"Look at me. Listen to me. We are standing at the end of the world. Nobody cares whether your best friend died because there are other problems here as we speak."

"..."

"And don't even think of wasting tears on anything. Because nobody is going to sympathize with you."

"I don't care about what you have to say. Let me work in peace."

Fumi retracted back into the crawlspace and reconnected any wires that had been dislodged by the man's unnecessary outburst. And as she rested her head on the platform just below the aforementioned hatch, she could hear Burchard muttering in German as he walked away.

Useless.

She focused back on what she was working on. The firmware was something that needed to be updated every week, for fear that Hell would find a way into the Earthmover's conscious and enable its self-destruction sequence. Her and Ichiko were the only two people who took charge of this task, Ichiko being more enthusiastic about it because it let her be closer to what she calmly referred to as her 'betrothed', whatever that meant. But whatever it meant didn't really matter to her right now because JESUS what was this mess of code she was looking at right now? 

As the orange glow of the terminal bathed the interior of the crawlspace, Fumi squinted at the bright screen as the generative code of the Earthmover's anti-virus scrolled down the interface before her. It seemed as though Ichiko had done things "Her Way" where she'd essentially made it so that the Earthmover's AI continued to evolve such that it could continue to resist the temptatious pull of Hell Itself. It was a smart way of doing things, but it came with its own set of problems because it raised so many hypotheticals. What happens if the Earthmover becomes smart enough to decide for itself and decided that they were parasites in its body? Or to sensibly bargain with Hell Itself in a way beneficial to all but them? These were risks that she wasn't willing to take, and as she took the mousepad on the terminal and moved it to select a section of the grand piece of code, she let her hands work around the mess Ichiko had created.

It was fairly clear there was something deeply wrong with Ichiko's code too. For the past week, there had been processing errors in the Earthmover's software, sudden outages and even tremors that suggested the grounded machine's attempts at movement. It was something that deeply worried Fumi to her very core.

But it seemed she was the only one who cared about these things. Ichiko only cared about being able to spend time with the Earthmover, Adam only cared about completing the first V-model he had managed to haul onto the Earthmover with him, and Burchard...

Burchard only cared about being alone. And if that was what he wanted then she was willing to give that loneliness to him freely.

The terminal before her projected a soothing warm orange from its screen as she continued to mindlessly type away, her fingers gliding across the screen as she continued to correct Ichiko's code. As the dim whirring of the Earthmover's interior surrounded her and the thick, fat wires that carried thousands of volts of electricity lay heavy on her body, she could feel the electrical tingle from the cables humming through her body. And as these cords continued to swing in the tight, tiny crawlspace music began to play somewhere upstairs.

That must be Ichiko and Adam. They were the only people on the Earthmover that didn't care much for survival anymore, and they'd grown somewhat closer through that bond. They only wanted to enjoy the bliss of the flesh while it lasted, and as far as Fumi was concerned, it wasn't an invalid want. Humanity was dead. Its last embers had been extinguished alongside whatever hope for the future was left. And now the only thing that could be done was wait until their predictably inevitable end. So why not enjoy it while it lasts? That is what Fumi understood.

But simultaneously, the presence of the first V-model here meant so much. This was a machine of war made to kill thousands. To eradicate millions of machines, including the gargantuan behemoth they lived on currently. If Adam could actually finish what he had started, complete the construction of the V-model and perhaps activate it...

...What difference would it make? It couldn't bring back humanity. It's not like it could put a revolver to the forehead of God itself and beckon to it to revive humanity from its smoldering ashes. It couldn't threaten God to bring back what had perished and had become one with the sickening array of flesh that was Hell Itself. 

So, there was no point. It didn't matter. It didn't matter whether they truly completed the V-model or not. It didn't matter whether they lived lavishly or toiled trying to complete an abandoned project that would probably never even work. So long as this living nightmare went on, nothing mattered.

The only reason she was even rewriting this entire code was because the lives of the others depended on this. If it was just her, she wouldn't gone on any longer after Eden died.

...

She wrapped up the entire coding procedure and shut the terminal down, watching as its hibernation procedure slowly cooled it down before switching the screen off and bathing her in darkness. Sweet, sweet darkness. She lay still for a few long moments before finally pushing herself out of the encapsulating crawlspace and, with the terminal under her arm began to exit the Earthmover's hull to join the others upstairs. 

She was alright. She was surrounded by friends. So because of that, things should matter. And she wasn't okay for thinking otherwise.

Why would she have thought otherwise?

...

Everything was fine.

Fumi exited the hull, and as a black metal door shut tightly behind her the Earthmover's interior was thrown into darkness again.