June 28 Saherta United States Special Forces Third Survey Team, 7 members, deceased. Cause of death, contact with Risk. Estimated Threat Level A. Unknown strange disease. Named 'Almeiza Machine' after the discoverer.
I took a deep breath. Apparently, I need to act assuming the worst-case scenario.
Guessing from the words 'strange disease', is it a type of pathogen? If so, it is dangerous to let Quinn merge with the main body as is. This time, let's play it safe and give up. I will leave the attaché case in this place. Instead, I will burn the contents of the map and such firmly into my memory while I can.
It was the correct decision to have the main body evacuate. It is regrettable that I cannot bring out the materials, but it can't be helped. Avoiding the danger is good enough. Just in case, I used 'Link' to check if there were any other dangers. At that moment, my face deformed with a squelching sound. My eyeballs popped out as if rising up. My left and right fields of vision reflected different scenes. My arms bent roundly as if gaining more joints, and bones protruded. They wrapped around as if hugging me. My skin became iron plates, bones became shafts, joints became cranks, eyes became scopes, heart became an engine, lungs became fans, voice became a beep, and intestines became iron pipes and excreted—
What... was that, just now?
Quinn's reaction vanished. I lost the egg (life) due to the pledge, but that doesn't matter. Is that the class of threat called a Calamity? The status is different, no, the quality is different. An existence that deviates from the definition of mostly proper living things. A malevolence as if the Creator poured in all possible malice to create it.
I have managed to survive until now. I have not a little pride in my strength. What I place my trust in more than anything is the main body's defensive power. Among the enemies I have fought so far, no one has scratched this exoskeleton reinforced with aura. Of course, I avoided combat as much as possible, and I chose opponents to fight after fully assessing their abilities, but it was still armor I was proud of.
But, if I were attacked by the same threat as Quinn, would the main body's armor be useful? Perhaps among the enemies I have avoided until now, there were threats of the Calamity class. If I had encountered one by some mistake, surely I would have lost my life. I realize it anew. I was merely living by chance.
Anyway, let's leave here immediately. I retreated at full speed with a grasshopper jump. Perhaps due to fear, my legs didn't move well. I stumbled and fell.
I looked at my own legs. Mainsprings and coils were protruding from between the joints. Antennae became cords and terminals. One eye became a lamp. It blinked red. My vision was interrupted by flickering red light. My exoskeleton began to deform, making creaking sounds. It's a lie. Because I should have kept enough distance. There are signs of animals other than me in the surroundings too. Why only me?
I don't understand the meaning. I am just confused. What should I do? How can I be saved? Even if the collective consciousness tries to divide the thinking work, the answer does not come out.
The gathered consciousness scatters. One by one, they are taken apart. Corresponding to the number of ceasing consciousnesses, my belly swelled out lumpily. Only the abdomen is hypertrophying abnormally. Internal pressure rises, internal organs soaked in the hole of blood filling up are crushed, brain and heart are permeated with oil, leaking from mouth from spiracles from anus, iron pipes tear through the womb and burbling and ■■■ ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Ah
When I realized it, I was in a room I had seen before.
Inside a dim room, faintly glowing capsules all around. I came to this place again.
I checked my own appearance. Nothing is wrong anywhere. A normal human. A silver-haired girl.
I had a nightmare. My teeth chattered and the trembling of my body wouldn't stop. I sat down hugging my knees. If I closed my eyes, I felt like that scene would float up behind my eyelids, so I couldn't even blink.
This place is the same as always. My inner world. I asked the capsules the usual question. 'Who are you?'
'You are me,' everyone answered in unison. The usual reply. An exchange repeated thousands and tens of thousands of times. I was relieved.
Then, one capsule suddenly cracked. Something shaped like a person came out from inside.
'Congratulations. I was born.'
It resembled my appearance. That silver-haired girl had a body invaded by machines. A hole was open in her belly, and the internal mechanism was visible. Her skin was crudely repaired with tin, and a circuit board protruded from her cracked skull. Every time she opened her mouth, she spat out bolts and nuts.
It's an irregular. Crude products like this are made occasionally. I eliminate them as usual. I began the disposal.
I beat her. I destroy her thoroughly until she can no longer speak, until she becomes scrap. I have always done so. Therefore, there is no reason I cannot do it.
And yet, the crude product before my eyes did not break. My hand that was punching was the one breaking. Every time I hit the hard tin, blood seeped out, nails cracked, and bones creaked.
'Who are you?'
'You are me.'
What was more terrifying than anything was that clear reply. I sensed absolutely no noise. An existence completely different from me is deceiving me and squatting there. That's why she should be an irregular, yet her consciousness possessed a surprising identity.
I must not leave this alone. It will become irreversible. I slammed my fists down with single-minded devotion. I don't care if my hands break. I endure the pain and keep hitting.
After taking a dizzying amount of time, I finally succeeded in destroying the crude product. I protected the world. I thought so.
'Congratulations. I was born.'
'Congratulations. I obtained me.'
'Congratulations. I named me Quinn.'
I can't protect anything. Everything is crazy. Crude products generated one after another. Breaking through capsules, girls fused with junk appeared. How many more crude products must I dispose of?
Politely, one by one, continuously cleaning them up. The room was overflowing with crude products waiting for disposal. Normal consciousnesses continued to decrease as if being exterminated.
As I was working diligently on destruction activities, a lump of machinery descended from above the room. There was no ceiling, and from within the darkness that continued I knew not how far, a large arm slowly descended. The arm suspended by cables pinched one of the crude products and caught it.
'Thank you.'
The arm rose again while holding the crude product. It disappeared into the darkness. I couldn't honestly rejoice that a nuisance was easily eliminated. I felt that something terrible was happening.
Then the arm began to frequently take away the crude products. Every time that happened, I wanted to scream. They uniformly stated words of gratitude and left. That was repulsive beyond measure.
The crude products are rapidly decreasing. However, they did not disappear from the room. From the back of the room, there was a sound of something moving, gown gown. When I went there, a machine I didn't know had been installed before I knew it.
It was a giant box-shaped device operating while flashing red and blue lamps. Needles on gauges I didn't understand well were swinging left and right. On the equipped conveyor belt, crude products came flowing one after another. They were being produced.
Destruction of the device was impossible. I couldn't put a single scratch on it. It was something in a place my hands couldn't reach. In the end, the only thing I could do was to keep breaking the produced crude products.
In an automated world, I was an unnecessary existence. I was even a harm. Why do I still continue to exist here? What am I working for? Is there meaning in it?
Before I knew it, the pain in my hands was gone. My hands, which had been injured and tattered, were repaired with multiple layers of tin. From where on is my own body, and from where on is it not? I had lost track of the seams. I just continued to swing my fists turned into blunt weapons without thinking anything.
'Congratulations. The ideal me.'
My hands stopped. The arm was about to take away a crude product that I had reached the point of breaking with one more breath. I watched that situation silently.
However, looking closely, the arm was descending aiming for me. It fell from directly above me. Slowly, slowly.
I wonder what will happen if I don't avoid this.
Finally, this will end. When I thought that, my heart was filled with a certain emotion. Relaxation, comfort, liberation.
Gratitude.
'Th... ank...'
"Umm, excuse me while you're busy! I'm terribly sorry, but could I have a moment of your time?"
A voice...?
"Can you hear my voice? Just a little bit is fine, I won't take up your time, yes. So, could you open this up just a little?"
There was a door on the wall of the room. Along with the sound of knock knock, someone's voice could be heard from the other side.
The door opened, and someone came in.
"Well, hello hello. Sorry about this, barging in at such a busy time. Ah, I am this kind of person."
A chubby middle-aged man wearing glasses. I don't recognize him. He held out something like a card. It was a business card. His title and name were written there.
Saherta United States Special Forces
Dark Continent Survey Team Third Team
Head of Information Control
Luan Almeiza