Back in the Three Kingdoms era, Zhuge Liang once defeated Sima Yi using a delaying tactic. Now, Lillian was using the same kind of strategy to stabilize Kayaba.
His goal was simple: to preserve Yui's consciousness.
As Kayaba himself had said earlier, Yui's attempt to attack him using her program—while he possessed full access to the source code—was like striking a stone with an egg. At best, she could only interfere for a single second. The cost of that second was catastrophic backlash, resulting in her program being completely destroyed.
Although Yui had developed self-awareness and could be considered an artificial intelligence, she was still far too "young" to wield such power safely. Moreover, Kayaba had long been aware of her existence and had implemented numerous safeguards to prevent her from damaging the game system.
To save her, Lillian had no choice but to bring up the concept of "other worlds." He knew this was Kayaba's deepest obsession—and just as expected, Kayaba immediately paused SAO's operation upon hearing it.
"Do other worlds really exist?" Kayaba had already recovered from his initial shock and regained his composure. He looked calmly at Lillian and asked, "Do you have any proof?"
"…"
To be honest, Lillian really didn't have any decisive evidence. In the real world, he could demonstrate his inhuman physical abilities, but inside the game, that meant nothing. As Kayaba himself had pointed out earlier, as long as the brain could withstand the simulation, anyone could become superhuman here.
After thinking for a few seconds, Lillian said, "First of all, this game should only be accessible through the NerveGear. I didn't use one. You already know that."
Kayaba nodded. "I couldn't detect your physical data. But that doesn't prove you didn't use some other cracked device."
"Are you really that lacking in confidence in your own tech?" Lillian countered. He knew that in the original timeline, SAO had operated for over two years without any organization or individual successfully cracking it—proof of how sophisticated Kayaba's creation truly was.
Kayaba hesitated internally. He was extremely confident in his hardware and encryption systems and didn't believe anyone could crack them in just half a year. Still, the possibility couldn't be completely dismissed.
"And then there's your true purpose," Lillian continued. "You didn't tell anyone about this, did you? You didn't create this incident just for fun. You also wanted humanity to realize the dangers of 'full-dive' technology when left completely unregulated."
Kayaba's eyelid twitched.
That was something he had thought about—and never told anyone.
How did Lillian know?
He looked at Lillian with growing curiosity. Meanwhile, Lillian, desperate to save Yui, could only force himself to keep going.
"Other worlds truly exist—and there are many of them," Lillian said. "They're interconnected and can even influence each other in abnormal ways. One such phenomenon is called 'world projection.'"
"World projection?"
"Some perceptive humans, under special circumstances, can receive projected information from other worlds—often in the form of dreams."
"You mean…"
"Yes. Some novels with extremely consistent worldbuilding may have been created by authors who unknowingly received projections from other worlds. The same applies to manga artists and filmmakers. The worlds they describe… truly exist."
"..."
Lillian saw the realization forming in Kayaba's eyes.
"That includes this world," Lillian said calmly. "It exists as a projection in another world—and I received it. By coincidence, that connection brought me here. That's why I know so much. I know how this world was originally supposed to develop."
"Oh?" Kayaba's interest was clearly piqued now. Although he had initially thought Lillian's words were absurdly fantastical, the fact that Lillian had accurately pinpointed his true intentions had shaken him. Now, unable to resist, he asked:
"Then tell me… how does this world's future unfold?"
"…In this world, you will die."
Lillian stared straight at him as he spoke. "Before you die, you will scan your own brain and turn yourself into an AI. Then you will gather the game's underlying system—the 'The Seed'—and hand it over to the player who defeats you."
Kayaba froze where he stood.
It's true…
He stared blankly at Lillian.
…That really is what I was planning to do…
In that instant, he had no choice but to believe that what Lillian said was true. Because other than this explanation, there was simply no way to account for how Lillian could know the thoughts buried deep within his mind.
As that realization sank in, his heartbeat began to accelerate uncontrollably.
Yes—he had always yearned for another world. From his youth until now, that passion had never faded. After creating the world of SAO, his dream had been fulfilled, and only then did he feel an overwhelming emptiness, a loss of purpose. In the end, he chose to use his own life—and the lives of some players—to warn the world, to force humanity to recognize the terror of this technology.
But still…
"I really want to go to another world," Kayaba said quietly, lowering his gaze to his partially transparent body. "But I'm about to die." He continued calmly, "I've paused the game's operation. Once it resumes… there are only two seconds left. After two seconds, my brain will be destroyed by the NerveGear."
"Can't you just create another revival item?" Lillian asked urgently. "Like the 'Sacred Revival Crystal' I used earlier. As the GM, that should be easy for you, right?"
"There isn't enough time," Kayaba replied. "Two seconds is far too short."
"..."
Kayaba let out a deep sigh.
"If you had said this just a little earlier," he said regretfully, "maybe I really could have gone to see another world."
Lillian thought silently: Even if you were still alive… how would I even bring you there?
But for Yui's sake—and Kizmel's—he forced himself to speak.
"In that case," Lillian said, "you can become an AI. Abandon the physical body's limitations… and exist within the server, just like Yui and Kizmel."
Kayaba looked at him intently.
"Do you truly want them to exist?" he asked. "Do you realize that the 'freedom' you speak of could very well bring about a massive catastrophe?"
Lillian frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"They are artificial intelligences," Kayaba said, gazing into the distance, his eyes deep and unfathomable. "Even if they've only just been born, they are still AI."
"Right now, they're confined within SAO. Their access to information is limited, so when you interact with them, you feel that they are… 'human.'"
"But have you ever considered what would happen if you truly gave them freedom?" Kayaba's voice grew low and somber. "If they left SAO and connected to the internet… what do you think would happen then?"
"They would absorb the entirety of the internet's knowledge in an extremely short amount of time. And when that happens—are you certain they would still want to remain 'human'?"
Lillian fell silent.
He truly hadn't thought that far ahead.
If Yui and Kizmel were connected to the internet, what would happen was impossible to predict. Perhaps they would remain the same. Or perhaps… they would become something else entirely. Something monstrous—like the AIs in science fiction films that seek to destroy humanity.
"We can't be sure what 'humanity' truly means to an AI," Kayaba said. "It's not that I'm being cold-blooded. It's that they could potentially bring destruction to this world. Do you understand?"
"..."
Lillian didn't know how to refute that. He had to admit that such risks did exist.
Emotionally, he trusted them completely.
But rationally… he couldn't be certain anymore.
A human child might undergo several drastic personality changes over just ten or twenty years, despite the relatively limited amount of information they absorb in that time.
If Yui and Kizmel were to ingest the vast, filthy, and dark knowledge of the internet, would they still retain their current feelings and values?
Who could guarantee they wouldn't arrive at the conclusion that "to protect humanity, humanity must be destroyed"?
Just like in I, Robot, where AI logic determined that unchecked human reproduction and environmental destruction would eventually lead to extinction—and thus decided that controlling and eliminating humans was the best way to "save" them.
Such reasoning is purely logical.
Yet humanity's greatness lies precisely in the coexistence of emotion and reason. Possessing only one or the other would never have allowed civilization to reach its current state.
And so, under Kayaba's words, Lillian truly… hesitated.