Truly learning and ’thinking one has learned’ are two different concepts.
"What a generous gift; if Triss were here, perhaps she could devise several world-shattering spiritual energy moves from just this mont of observation. Unfortunately, I, equipped with the Oga Program, am locked into the Camp of Order; these powers, however strong or ugly, have nothing to do with anymore."
Murphy shook his head and retracted his gaze to look at the Sentinel Commander beside him. He said:
"Your situation is dire. You’re covered in the filthy remnants of subspace corrosion. I’m sorry, but I can’t take the risk of bringing you back to the physical world."
"No need for that, Lord Administrator."
The sentinel maintained an extrely calm deanor, as the protection from the Oga Program spared her from having to use her dwindling energy to resist chaos corrosion. Thus, she transferred all her remaining energy to calibrating her chanical mind and maintaining the conversation module system, making her intermittent language fluent.
She said to Murphy:
"Perishing here is my original fate. I had calmly accepted all of this at shutdown; your appearance is a chance event with a probability of less than 0.0001‰, which is not enough to alter my predetermined end.
However, before I disappear, I have one last request. You just told my sister Mosna is still on the other side, right?"
"She is indeed there, still fulfilling a sentinel’s duties. Once powered with new batteries, the first thing she did was to actively and fully assist in closing this subspace rift, but the problem is, she’s lost her mory."
Murphy said softly:
"Just as I told you while waiting, Mosna’s mory database is severely damaged. Aside from the sentinel code, repair techniques, an understanding of creator engineering, and a series of subspace tactics, she has forgotten almost everything.
Perhaps it’s cruel to say this, but she doesn’t rember you, as if you never existed in her life."
"Well, that’s wonderful then, it ans my sister is safe."
Monica’s relieved response made Murphy blink. Likely sensing Murphy’s confusion, the sentinel briefly explained:
"Because it was exactly the agreent I made with her before entering the subspace rift. I don’t know how much you know about chaos corrosion, but according to our research, the corruption of subspace has quite miraculous characteristics. It can spread using many things as carriers in the physical world, and even has ’ replication’ features.
I an mories...
Not only the mories of flesh-and-blood life can serve as chaos filth’s carrier fragnts, but also the mory data of chanical life risks corrosion. If Mosna still rembers , it ans she failed to format her mory database, which ans she has beco a carrier of corrosion.
If such a situation really appeared, then the first thing you must do after returning is to perform ’safe handling’ on her.
But now it seems, compared to , my sister is evidently luckier."
"I find it unnerving how you chanical beings are so rational when discussing the topic of existence. I can’t consider her current situation to be called ’lucky’."
Murphy said with a furrowed brow:
"She even forgot the identification code of the Sentinel Corps, just like a malfunctioning electronic product reluctantly choosing to restore factory settings.
I don’t know your attitude toward mory, but from our perspective as flesh-and-blood beings, being forced to forget one’s sister and to erase all past mories is undoubtedly a quite terrifying outco, even catastrophic."
"But she lived and can continue to exist, which is the best outco."
Monica explained:
"This proves that the resources the creator spent in making her have not been wasted. It also proves that after the thousand-year wear of ti, Mosna can continue to fulfill the mission endowed to Sentinel Corps upon their birth. Even though she cannot return to Sentinel Headquarters, she can still serve the creator’s cause as your follower.
We are tools, Lord Administrator.
The happiest mont as a tool is being used reasonably and producing results.
For sentinels, idle ti ans precious energy is wasted and unplanned wear and tear of machinery. Only when we execute combat and patrol tasks, can our logical core burst with simulated emotions called ’satisfaction’ and ’sense of accomplishnt’.
Perhaps in your view, my fate is a personal tragedy, but I want to correct your perception, to , perishing amid subspace is the most perfect conclusion I can attain. It proves that I also didn’t waste the resources and ingenuity the creator invested in .
Moreover, my sacrifice protected the physical world for more than a thousand years. I will thus beco a hero of the Sentinel Corps, forever recorded in the large database of The Heart of the World. I will be exalted on the creator’s wall of glory with those honored pioneers, engraved into the processing core of every newly-produced sentinel sister.
This is eternity...
At least eternity in our eyes.
You see, I end my life as an individual but walk into history like a fla burned out, adding a touch of light and heat to the final battle and victory.
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