I was being swallowed by a massive vortex.
The collective consciousness—the network—built by a single individual was being integrated with other individuals one after another through Mental Synchronization, forming a giant whirlpool.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Can I truly say that my awareness of something in this way is equal to the will of the collective? Perhaps I haven't grasped every corner of this infinitely expanding consciousness. On the contrary, could it be that the 'me' I recognize is nothing more than a small fragment of the whole?
There is something massive swelling in a place beyond my knowledge. We are drawn toward its center, crushed into pieces, ground down, and condensed until we vanish into somewhere else.
The center of the vortex continues down into an infinite depth. Likely, only those who reach it can understand. And reaching it meant the disappearance of one's existence as an individual. Only then would I truly become 'Myself.' I would become a member constituting the formless self known as the 'Whole.'
That feeling might have been caused by the hallucinatory symptoms that worsened day by day. At first, I saw nonsensical illusions, like those seen in dreams. They took the form of eerie monsters or appeared as comrades I trusted from the bottom of my heart.
Those certainly caused me anxiety, but the truly terrifying thing lay beyond them. Gradually, the hallucinations changed into shapes that made no sense. I couldn't understand their meaning. If I were to put it into words, it was a 'vortex.' Individual hallucinations converged toward the center of the whirlpool, as if being churned into a sludge inside a blender.
A disruption in Mental Synchronization caused by mental instability. It created a 'bug' that surpassed my understanding. Perhaps it could simply be dismissed as paranoid delusions caused by the side effects of drugs. However, something more terrifying than anything else had certainly arisen within me.
It was a distrust toward myself. In other words, it was a situation that shook the very foundation of Mental Synchronization. The collapse of self-identity. The very thought of trying to escape from the self that I should naturally belong to signified the dispersion of the collective consciousness.
One day, there were two of Quinn. Two Quinns encountered each other and exchanged words. At first, I suspected a drug-induced hallucination, but it was certainly reality.
An individual separated from the collective had emerged. I and I became 'others.' Mental Synchronization did not work between us; our communication was not through the unification of will, but through the exchange of words.
I wasn't as shaken as I expected. I even felt that this was inevitable. If anything, it felt as though things had settled into a natural state. The separated individual could still use Mental Synchronization for her own eggs, just like before. She had become a completely independent network.
After that, one after another, individuals began to separate from the collective consciousness as if letting out a birth cry. That flow could not be stopped. Ultimately, almost all the main bodies became independent, leaving only a few behind.
As a result, the smooth management of the swarm as it had been before was no longer possible. We could no longer operate under the idea of sacrificing someone. Everyone could assert their own rights equally.
It was easy to imagine that various problems would arise. In a survival environment, if a few humans gather, an organized group action and an existence to lead it are always necessary. It is even more so when thousands gather. There was a danger that a single quarrel could escalate into a major riot.
Being equal does not necessarily mean being happy. If everyone lived in a satisfying environment, it might be one thing, but on this island, we are in a dangerous situation exposed to limited resources and many enemy forces. If someone shows even a little selfishness, many others will likely feel unbearable discomfort.
There was also the issue of who would hold the right of command. No matter how much consideration was given, the emergence of power dynamics was unavoidable. To act as a group, someone must take on a thankless role. Even a small dissatisfaction at first would accumulate over time.
In this situation where there is no prospect of escaping the island, and not knowing how much longer we must spend here, how should we resolve the accumulating anxiety and dissatisfaction? It felt like a time bomb that couldn't be defused.
And there wasn't just one bomb. Starting with the issue of command, there were the coordination in combat, the division of roles such as fortress construction and farming, and since the number of Quinn had rapidly increased, we also had to determine land usage. However, these were issues for which we might eventually find acceptable answers through repeated discussions.
There was only one maximum-grade bomb that flashed through my mind first. And if I could think of it, everyone else must have already realized it as well. I didn't think it could be settled no matter how much we talked.
How would the drugs be distributed?
________________________________________
I have fallen into a serious drug addiction. Even with that realization, I can no longer stop. If I stop taking it, I am assaulted by unbearable withdrawal symptoms. The temporary euphoria turns into hellish suffering.
Usually, the more a drug is used beyond the dosage, the higher the tolerance becomes, and one becomes unable to be satisfied unless they ingest a larger amount. However, this drug had inverse tolerance. It is a property where tolerance thins the more it is used, allowing one to obtain the effect even with a small amount.
Most ordinary drugs increase tolerance, and no drug claimed to have inverse tolerance has ever been properly proven. But the drug I use certainly had that property. The more I continued to take it, the more the delusions and hallucinations expanded, encouraging addiction. Even for a main body that possesses high resistance to many toxins, the toxicity of this drug was something I could not resist.
The true horror lies in the psychological dependence. The state of focus brought about by the drug had a profound effect on Nen training. Once I became accustomed to that sensation, there was no going back. Normal sensations began to feel abnormal.
I am aware that things cannot continue like this. I have thought many times about just letting all the drug flowers wash away into the sea. And I actually did throw them away. I threw them away many times.
However, before I knew it, the medicine would return to my hand. It felt as if it had returned on its own, but in reality, I was unconsciously going to retrieve it after throwing it away. My body would act before I could even consciously think about picking it up.
It was like a curse. Looking back, that feeling of not wanting to let go had been there for quite some time. For one reason or another, I kept this medicine tucked away in my bag. The reason I didn't provide this medicine to the research team was likely because of this feeling. I was making up various excuses and looking for the right time to give it to them, but in my heart, I had no intention of letting go.
Even if I couldn't consciously perceive it, it clung to a corner of my mind like an obsession, continuing to erode my spirit. And that coercive force has progressed to an irreversible point by starting to take the medicine in earnest. Once you start using this drug, you cannot throw it away yourself.
"O, bu... a, aa..."
Quinn crawls pathetically across the sandy beach. My entire body is covered in goosebumps from a chill accompanied by a floating sensation; the feeling in my limbs has vanished as if they were cut off, and pain and numbness race from the bottom of my stomach to my head. In the sweltering heat, I rolled around on the white glowing sand that reflected the sun so intensely it made my eyes ache. I churned through the smooth, flowing white world without even knowing which way was up or down. Only the sensation of my gums crunching the sand that had entered my mouth was transmitted vividly through my bones, violently shaking my brain.
Where am I? Am I really here? How much easier would it be if I could just vanish while being enveloped in this light? My body is slowly melting. I am becoming tiny grains, getting lost in the sand.
At that moment, a shadow fell across my shining field of vision. The intense light subsided. No matter how strong the sunlight was, it wasn't enough to make everything invisible. I realized it was a hallucination seen because my senses had become hypersensitive.
"I won't lose."
Someone grabbed Quinn's arm. From that spot, the sensations in my body began to return to normal. My body, which I had lost sight of, was being pulled up. Looking up, a Quinn was peering down at me. Not my Quinn, but someone else's Quinn.
Like a mirror image, our black eyes met. Her long silver hair fluttered softly like a curtain blocking out the sunlight.
"It's... all right... now..."
Enduring the nausea, I squeezed Quinn's hand back. She lifted my body, carried me to the shade of a comfortable rocky area, and looked after me.
I—we—overcame it. We couldn't throw away the drug. But every one of me vowed never to use it again.
At first, I thought it was impossible. Previously, if one of the bodies ingested the drug, the other individuals would obtain the same effect through Mental Synchronization. However, individuals who have separated from the collective consciousness cannot share that pleasure. It becomes necessary to ingest it separately.
No matter how much the returns seemed like you could squeeze the drug out indefinitely, you never knew when the bottom would fall out. Perhaps the next drop would never come. It couldn't be distributed to thousands of bodies. If the end came in the middle, things would become unsalvageable after that.
So, taking the policy of everyone quitting the drug together was inevitable. But at the same time, I also thought it was impossible. Eventually, someone would give in to their desires and reach for it. If that happened, no one else would be able to hold back either. The accumulated frustration would explode, and things would become uncontrollable.
It could even develop into a killing spree over the limited supply of medicine. I could easily envision such a disaster. But surprisingly, that did not happen.
We called out to each other. We watched over one another, making sure no one ran toward their desires. Such interactions gradually changed from the purpose of monitoring others as evil to a determination to help comrades and aim for the same goal.
That journey was by no means an easy one. Even after settling from withdrawal symptoms into a stable state, I would be pulled back into suffering by sudden flashbacks. That danger was always present in daily life, and there was no time for rest. To escape that pain, I would try to seek the medicine again.
The other 'mes' desperately held back comrades whose withdrawal symptoms had returned. We reasoned with words, and if that didn't stop them, we restrained them with force. Sometimes, it developed into bloody conflicts with one another. However, that strife never reached the worst-case scenario I had envisioned.
Even if violence enough to kill was used, I knew there was no hatred there. This was because the opponent was none other than the existence closest to myself. They were a stranger who faced me as seriously as if it were their own problem, more so than anyone else.
'Can you afford to succumb in a place like this?'
'I have things I must do.'
'Let's leave this island and cross this sea.'
I was able to accept those words honestly. I knew they weren't superficial lies meant only for the moment. Without even having to sense malice, I could believe they were sincere words born from the heart.
It was a truly ironic result. We abandoned the extremely rational method of decision-making called consciousness identification through Mental Synchronization and placed our trust in a state where consciousness was separated as others.
There were certainly parts that couldn't be called efficient. Sometimes opinions would clash. However, the time spent adjusting those differences was by no means a waste. I was able to realize that there were various perspectives on problems that previously would have been automatically self-contained or processed as unknown.
Exchanging words is an act of striving to understand others. Precisely because they are others, they can be respected. If there is a mistake, it can be noticed more sharply.
We actively conversed. Since we weren't originally good at talking, there must have been some awkward parts. Furthermore, since the knowledge we each possessed was exactly the same, no surprising topics would pop up, but even so, I was able to feel that it was fun.
Mental Synchronization does not work, but we can use the radio communication ability of the Chimera Ants. However, we decided not to use this ability as much as possible except for necessary times such as during combat or emergencies. We placed importance on conversation through Quinn as a means of communicating our intentions. It felt more 'human' that way.
We worked hard on training by sparring between Quinns. Matches against opponents with exactly the same skill level as myself were greatly helpful for improving technique. Sometimes it would heat up too much and become a death match, and a Quinn would actually die once in a while, but the relationship never turned sour because of it.
Even among the Quinns whose skills had been balanced until now, differences in strength began to emerge. It was minute, and there was no great difference in ability between any of the Quinns, but there are some who demonstrate slightly superior skill in a certain field. As those Quinns taught their techniques to others, training became even more productive.
We were also steadily acquiring the aura resonance technique that we became able to use due to the hallucinatory effects of the drug. Previously, we could only read the waves of aura in a state of falling into hallucinatory symptoms, but that data had been accumulated within Quinn. Just as you don't easily forget the sensation of riding a bicycle once you master it, we were able to reproduce the movement data that had been dormant inside Quinn. As for swimming in the viscous fluid, it had reached a level where it could be said we had completely mastered it.
The high tide defense battle against the Magnetic Snails was heading toward a conclusion. The number of enemies is decreasing with each encounter. Because of this, defending the island has become much easier, but since the power of a single enemy attack is still immense, we have not neglected the construction of defensive walls. Since the pace of repair exceeded the pace of destruction, a high wall surrounding the island has now been completed.
In exchange, the number of Regenerating Squids is increasing. Right now, we are focusing on the task of gathering their bones. Since there are thousands of main bodies and Quinns, a ship for everyone to escape will be necessary.
We have now become irreplaceable comrades. There is no thought that it's fine as long as at least one person can escape. We will all leave the island together. With Quinn's swimming ability and the cuttleboard surfboards that will serve as a place for the main bodies to rest on the sea, action for a while is possible for the time being.
Since the cuttlebones should ideally be the sturdy ones from mature individuals, the numbers wouldn't gather immediately just because we overfished the squid. However, the day when everyone's portion is ready won't be that far off.
It still cannot be said that a means to safely navigate this sea has been established. But hope was born within us. The existence of comrades became our support. The previous me, who was nothing but a 'single' self, likely wouldn't have been able to overcome despair.
The drug brought about the result of destroying myself. I haven't completely cured the addiction yet. I have a premonition that it will probably continue to torment me for years, maybe even decades.
However, that destruction wasn't entirely bad. There was also salvation born from destruction. What was truly lacking wasn't a means for safe navigation. It was the courage to step forward. The goal of crossing the sea is not an unattainable dream. I saw a future that allowed me to think that way.