"Nihilists? What are they?"
John’s question hung in the air of the outpost, but internally, his mind was already racing ahead, connecting dots that had been blurred for far too long.
He suddenly realised sothing glaring. Between the Architects, who sought to preserve the status quo of Athanasia, and the Evolutionists, who wanted to democratise the power of the ntal Processing, there wasn’t a single group of Paragons that matched the root cause of what had happened to him.
Neither of those two factions would have a logical reason to cooperate with the machines, engage in shady stuff, or reach back into the past to bring soone like him to infiltrate the ga.
The Architects were too obsessed with their own rigid order, and the Evolutionists were too focused on their equality crusade.
Soon enough, he was certain he would learn more about the specific cadre of Paragons who worked hand-in-glove with the machines, the ones who had backed Mark, the ones behind the attempt on his life in the distant past. And the Nihilists just ca to clear all this fog.
"They are the extremists," Cissel sighed, her expression darkening as if she were recalling a particularly troubling mory.
"It is the smallest faction with the fewest number of Paragons, and yet they are by far the most insane group. I have even heard rumours that they are working directly with the machine on Earth to destroy Athanasia from deep within.
They want to see the ga world ruined, believing that the only way to save humanity is to forcibly release every soul back to the physical Earth, regardless of the cost, and shoulder the grave sins our ancestors committed a long ti ago."
John was now absolutely sure that the benefactor Mark had spoken of, the one who had facilitated his recruitnt in the past, was part of this lunacy. He didn’t need to hear more about their madness; he had experienced the consequences of their desperation firsthand, more so than any of his friends.
"I can’t see why they are considered crazy," Luke said, scratching the back of his head with a confused look. "I an, if the goal is to go ho, doesn’t that make Earth suitable to live in again? Isn’t that what we all want eventually?"
"That’s the point, Luke," Ricky said, his tone biting. "Earth isn’t recovered enough to let us return and live safely. Not yet. I don’t know all the technical details, but the surface machines have been known to slack off on their environntal restoration tasks. They haven’t delivered on the terraforming quotas for decades."
"It’s because they shifted their attention towards the Apocalypse and these trials," John intervened. He gestured toward the distance, where the machine swarm, both the smouldering dead and the active units, literally covered the entire northern territory.
"As you can see, they’ve shifted their entire focus sowhere else. They are busy building an army."
"It’s crazy," Cissel nodded, her voice hollow. "But it’s the bitter truth. They stopped working for the humans a long ti ago, and I can’t tell how they were allowed to divert those resources."
"The reason doesn’t matter right now," John could already tell the reason. It was all the Nihilists doing. His thoughts drifted back to the long speech Mark had given him back in prison. "All that matters is that we know they are our enemies. And any group of humans working with them, Nihilist or otherwise, are traitors to humanity."
His words weren’t born of extremism; they were a statent of simple facts. To John, anyone facilitating the machine’s takeover was a traitor to the core. He didn’t intend to tolerate such treason, nor did he plan to let the machines have their way either.
The first step in changing this down to hell path of humanity was taking absolute control over this pocket trial and ascending to the broader Source Code apocalyptic world.
The second step would be seizing control over the entire pipeline of human migration into the trial system, expanding his influence and growing his territory until he held the keys to the second rebirth of humans.
Yet, he first had to understand the variables standing right in front of him.
"I’ve got the gist of this. I understand Ricky’s stance and the pressure he’s under," John said, turning his full attention toward Cissel. She felt her heart shudder as she t his steady, piercing gaze.
"But I still don’t fully get yours. Tell everything about you, Cissel. Tell about the Regression ability."
"Well..." Cissel struggled to find the right words. At this precise mont, she desperately hoped he wouldn’t have asked. She had hoped that in the revelation of all these secrets, he would have overlooked the specifics of her ability.
"She lives for a long ti in the future," Ricky said, not waiting for her to find her voice. He took the helm of the conversation.
"She lives until she either dies, her plans fail, or she realises she’s made no aningful progress in the path she’s taken. Then, she triggers a regression. She selects a new starting point in the past, restarts the tiline, and keeps doing this in a loop until she achieves her goals."
Hearing such an insane description of Cissel’s life startled John. He thought she was limited by a certain number of tries, not casually resetting the track she walked upon once she didn’t like it.
If what Ricky said was true, that she could trigger her ability as many tis as she wanted, then she must have t him before in one of those failed regressions.
If she had t him before, then every spontaneous interaction they had shared, every mont of bonding, might have been a previously planned and ticulously sched act on her part.
Yet he recalled what he passed through, how he got placed on this track in the first place. His fate looked totally different if the contract he signed had not been passed and not shredded by a gunshot.
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