"..."
Michael took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.
"The Authority of Corruption..."
And so, Michael finally understood the aning behind this i's words, "it's already a bit late now."
Logically, Corruption was only the Twelfth Herrscher. After [Corruption] ended, humanity should still have an unknown amount of ti to construct the so-called Elysian Realm.
But firstly, considering the current pace of four Honkai Eruptions occurring consecutively within four months, how much ti would humanity truly have left after [Corruption] ended?
Secondly, facing the Finality that could descend at any mont, the Elysian Realm project would inevitably consu vast resources, necessarily impacting other war preparations.
This resource drain didn't matter from Michael's perspective, because trying to defeat the Finality through quantifiable combat power was inherently an [impossible task]—
From the perspective of the MANTISes themselves, even soone as powerful as the original Kevin was rely a large ant before the Finality. A strike powerful enough to illuminate half the moon only bought the entire civilization half a day's respite.
As for building more weapons, like more SELENE engines to convert the Honkai Energy within the Finality, this presented a vicious cycle:
Honkai itself has two parallel, non-contradictory explanations: one traditional theological, one scientific. Both describe the phenonon, just using different language and perspectives. From the scientific viewpoint, the initial interpretation of the Honkai phenonon was "a manifestation of entropy increase."
Human civilization, including human creations like Divine Keys and SELENE engines, are part of negentropy.
According to the principle of entropy increase, as negentropy expands, entropy increase also intensifies correspondingly. This principle fundantally denies the possibility of directly defeating the Finality. For example—
Although one overloaded SELENE engine could convert 30% of the Finality's Honkai Energy, seemingly allowing humanity to completely decompose the Finality with just a few SELENEs, the Finality's power would also grow accordingly, ensuring that even before all SELENEs burned out, its Honkai Energy would only be reduced by 30%.
Furthermore, considering the law of diminishing marginal returns, this number would decrease even further.
But Michael knew this, i knew this, yet it didn't an everyone understood.
Besides, even understanding this, human sensibility wouldn't abandon the possibility of defeating the Finality head-on. Just like in many fallen zones, people knew daggers and shovels were utterly incapable of defeating Honkai Beasts, but that didn't stop them from wielding these weapons and striking with all their might when escape was impossible.
The more he thought... the ssier it beca.
Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up, he saw a flicker of bewildernt in i's eyes too—a truly unprecedented sight.
"What's wrong?"
i didn't answer, instead writing a single word on a piece of paper with her ballpoint pen, then circling it.
Michael stared at the word "SAKURA" on the paper, lost in thought.
After a mont, he shook his head with a wry smile, carefully pulled the paper out from under the Genius, then roughly tore it into pieces and tossed it into the trash bin.
He spoke, half helpless, half sarcastic:
"Honestly, i, I sowhat regret telling you the so-called [script]."
Only then did Michael realize that the [Leader] sitting before him was truly just a girl, a girl the sa age as him, as Ely.
She too could feel dejected, could feel lost, could feel helpless, could yield to fate.
She too would question inwardly: "Since our civilization is destined to be destroyed, why struggle so painfully?"
This struggle constantly tried to erode the sensibility inherent in every human being. It prevented lovers from dying together, even forcing them into self-destruction for the survival of the many. It subjected most of the world's population to slave-like lives, where only unimaginable high-intensity work, inconceivable in peaceti, could exchange for ager ans of survival...
Such struggle, such a life worse than death, if only it could lead to a happy ending...
Like those in the fallen zones, dragging their Honkai-eroded bodies, fighting Honkai Beasts with crude weapons. They fought continuously, striving for the right to live another second, simply because they held onto a sliver of hope—perhaps escaping the fallen zone, reaching an area controlled by Fire Moth, would bring treatnt, a return to peaceful life.
And those in the controlled zones, working over ten hours a day, witnessing familiar comrades die beside them daily from exhaustion, hunger, or exploitation. Their reason for clinging to life was none other than embracing Fire Moth's promise of "defeating the Honkai" as a form of hope, hoping for a return to normal life after the Honkai ended.
What about the soldiers of Fire Moth? They faced Honkai infection, had to kill their own comrades turned into Husks or Herrschers. What was their hope? rely i telling them there were only thirteen Herrschers, and humanity had already defeated the eleventh.
But if everyone were told now that there was no possibility of defeating the Finality, that destruction was the final outco, who would still be willing to struggle?
Ultimately, at this point, everyone was barely holding on, both psychologically and physiologically.
If even the last shred of hope were extinguished, it would be hard for people not to think—
Since destruction is the end anyway, living another second in this world is just suffering. Better to end it early myself.
What? Defeating the Honkai in the next era?
Don't be ridiculous. Even if that possibility existed, what connection would the next era's civilization have with this one?
The Neanderthals went extinct; Homo sapiens shaped the current civilization. This was a victory for humanity, but not for the Neanderthals. The Neanderthals wouldn't find solace in it.
This was i's thinking.
Selfishness, avoidance, weakness, despair—human failings weren't lessened just because she was i. After all, these were determined by the human vessel, not the individual nad i.
And as long as one considered oneself human, escaping the influence of these failings was impossible. Or perhaps, if these failings weren't present in one's heart, whether one could exist as human would be highly questionable.
For i, she had simply always buried these emotions deep within her heart, fortifying these parts typically seen as weak with the pillars of rationality.
However, no matter how well buried, how firmly tamped down, when an earthquake triggered by the [script] and a ssage from her "self" 250,000 years ago struck, these things were easily overturned.
And to whom could i reveal these emotions?
She looked around blankly. Whether Anti-Entropy or ordinary soldiers, she couldn't let these resolute followers of Fire Moth see their leader... before their own last spark of hope was extinguished, see their leader already deeply despairing before the Finality even arrived.
Even Kevin... couldn't know...
Because of the loneliness and cold of the long night, one hedgehog desires to huddle close to another for warmth.
But when two hedgehogs draw near, they fear being pricked by the other's spines, fear pricking the other with their own, and so they distance themselves again.
And the tragedy of human loneliness lies in this frantic desire to huddle close to another for warmth, to reveal one's entire self to another.
But when such a person is truly found, one discovers it's impossible to show everything—everyone, for various reasons, consciously or unconsciously conceals things from others. Even between i and Kevin, even between Michael and Ely, there are no exceptions.
Ultimately, humans both desire soone who completely understands them and instinctively disbelieve that such a person exists in this world. And revealing everything to soone who doesn't fully understand you inevitably leads to questioning, bla, even the possibility of the hard-won connection collapsing.
Even worse... for so, the thought of "soone in the world who knows everything about you" is far more terrifying, more unacceptable than "no one in the world understands you."
And so, they choose loneliness themselves.
Fortunately, i's loneliness wasn't without an outlet. There was another her in the Bubble Universe—if one doesn't believe others can fully understand oneself, then surely oneself can, right?
Judging by the current situation, it wasn't a question of 'can,' but 'too much so.' i understood i so well that the two is gradually converged towards complete synchronization. But this wasn't necessarily a good thing. Once synchronization reached a certain level, i would find that conversing with the other i was rely talking to herself.
And this entire vicious cycle was now being rcilessly exposed by Michael.
She suddenly recalled the man's self-abandonnt two years prior. It turned out he was rely putting such irresponsible thoughts into action.
"i, regarding this... you're a sensible person. You should be able to see that we've actually changed a lot of fates, haven't we? If nothing else, you didn't end up wearing the Blank Key as per the [script] and suffering irreversible damage to your body."
i remained silent. What Michael said was undeniably true, but frankly, it was just "two perspectives on the sa half-glass of water."
Faced with the sa half-glass, whether one thinks "how is there only half left" or "wow, there's still half left," both point to the essential phenonon of "half a glass." Choosing one perspective implicitly acknowledges the other.
Just like "we've already changed many fates" actually implies "we failed to change most fates."
For example, from a fundantal perspective, Herrscher Authorities and hosts should be random. Yet why, even after Michael's extensive intervention, have the Authorities remained completely unchanged, let alone the hosts?
Furthermore, both Michael and i had seen Divine Keys left behind by even earlier civilizations beneath the moon's craters. Most of those Divine Keys were identical to their current counterparts.
Mm, so-called fate ans that what can happen, will inevitably happen, must happen.
Although the real world possesses far more randomness than cold numbers, even the most powerful god cannot guarantee that every thread of fate they weave is unbreakable. Even if the probability is pulled down to ten to the power of negative fifty-sothing, mathematically definable as "impossible," it can still blossom in desperate reality.
But i wasn't conceited enough, wasn't arrogant enough, to believe such a miracle among miracles could happen twice in this era.
"Heh heh..."
Actually, for Michael, turning i's thoughts around rely required using the Eighth Herrscher's Authority to give this little girl a good wake-up call.
At this point, he no longer considered it taboo—as long as no one found out.
But he didn't do it, because there was no need.
Now, he could better appreciate Aponia's past prophecies—seeing the threads of fate isn't necessarily a good thing, but it's not entirely bad either.
Just like now, i repeatedly exposed her weaker side, yet Michael wasn't worried. He knew this was temporary; she would soon resolve her inner conflict and refill her consciousness with rationality.
What Michael needed to do, what he could do, was rely offer so insignificant guidance, preventing her, by so small chance, from truly falling into irreversible despair.
"i, you're a sensible person."
Michael repeated the sentence.
He actually wanted to tell i directly that after countless simulations, he had finally found a possibility of saving this era.
Though extrely small, though just a prototype, it even possessed the potential to reverse everything. And the price was rely...
Telling i this possibility, giving her [hope], just as she gave hope to all of humanity.
He had co here specifically to say this, yet ultimately, he didn't speak the words.
"What you choose to believe in during the process determines what you will receive upon reaching the end."
Never mind the fragile, powerless masses. Michael didn't want the wisest, most rational among them to endure until the very end solely for the sake of such hope.
It was a deceptive reversal of priorities. Besides, if that possibility ultimately proved impossible, it would only plunge the deceived into deeper despair.
It was just... his own current confidence and optimism, did they stem from this hope? He himself couldn't say for sure.
"i, you must have guessed that the future I know doesn't just encompass this era, right?"
"...Mm."
"So words, they originate from the future, but I feel they can also serve as motivation for us in the past to move forward."
He held up three fingers:
"These are words spoken by the future Ely: Even if the future cannot be changed, I will decide the process of reaching that outco myself. And her successor said: Even if fate cannot be changed, I will confirm it with my own hands, because that will give the ending entirely different aning.
"Of course, the last sentence actually has quite a connection to you and Kevin. It was said by another person to your descendants, or perhaps spoken by your descendants? I don't quite rember—As long as it is a decision made after careful consideration, even if one deliberately conforms to so-called fate, it is by no ans a life controlled by external forces.
"i, think carefully. Do we humans live solely for the outco of survival?
"Undeniably, the fate woven by the gods seems impregnable, always leading to the worst outco, just as humans inevitably die. But if one only focuses on the fact that humans will die, then why live at all?
"i, perhaps the fastest way to lift your spirits is to offer you hope. But what I want to say is—even if we achieve nothing in the end, so what? Is the aning of humanity's propagation until now solely to defeat the Honkai? If the Honkai erases all the civilization humanity developed, does that civilization beco aningless?"
"I..."
i pursed her lips.
"I don't know."
"Not knowing is right. I don't know either."
i's eyes instantly flashed with annoyance. Michael quickly covered it up with a foolish grin.
"Why humans live, why birds fly—this kind of philosophical debate about aning is itself aningless, yet aningful.
"Speaking of aning, wasn't Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the mountain the most aningless task? Every ti Sisyphus pushed the boulder to the summit, it would inevitably roll back down to the foot, and Sisyphus would push it up again, endlessly repeating. But Sisyphus wasn't necessarily unhappy. He didn't necessarily feel the process was aningless, right?"
Sensing the atmosphere had beco too heavy, Michael suddenly grinned mischievously:
"Heh heh... Given my position, I can only say so much. Miscalculated. I should have said these words to Kevin first, had him morize them, then relay them to you. Would the effect have been better?"
"Cough cough!"
i suddenly coughed twice. Michael looked up at her, seeing the i opposite him also looked sowhat bewildered.
"This type of talk, if it doesn't co from my mouth, Kevin generally can't rember it."
Both simultaneously turned their gazes towards the Genius.
"Well said, Michael. I will seriously consider your words. But for now, let's return the topic to the Herrscher of Corruption."
Michael suddenly smiled. i seemingly hadn't said anything, rely steered the conversation back on track.
But actually, her attitude had already said everything.
She understood what Michael said.
In fact, much of it was things she herself had said, passed through Kevin or Hua or Su to Michael's ears, then modified and woven together by him before reaching her again.
These words were indeed interesting, and not aningless. But the most important point for i was feeling that soone stood with her.
Whether it was Michael speaking these words, or Kevin, Hua, and Su keeping these words in their hearts and relaying them to Michael...
In short, it was a feeling satisfyingly indescribable, yet difficult to define.
It was still the sa cold, long night. This group of hedgehogs sat together, neither too close nor too distant. Everyone consciously maintained the most appropriate distance, then little by little, revealed their whole selves to the others.
And as they began to do so, the sharp spines on their bodies started to soften, to fall away. The long night remained the long night, but they had evolved from hedgehogs into a group of sparsely haired primitive humans.
At so point, soone started a fire. Everyone gathered around the bonfire, and the night was no longer cold, no longer lonely. Just to prevent the hard-won fire from being extinguished by the night wind, everyone still sat in a circle. They no longer needed to maintain a large distance to avoid the pain of spines, but they also wouldn't get overly close when others didn't need it.
They possessed an inner asure, allowing them to gauge the distance between hearts by tacit understanding, drawing closer when needed, consciously moving away when not.
Suddenly, the night wind subsided slightly. And so, holding hands, they danced happily around the flickering firelight.
For primitive humans, the socially significant "ho" was perhaps ford just like this.
Michael gently exhaled the breath he had held earlier, then thought no more.
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