"Professor?"
Benjamin, watching Ein from the side, spoke up in confusion: "Should I keep recording the experimental data?"
Ein came back to himself, reflexively turning to look at Benjamin — but what he saw, behind Benjamin's shoulder, was the phantom of Carmen standing there, waving at him once before slowly dissolving into the air like smoke on the wind.
It was only then, in that moment, that Ein finally snapped out of his daze with a sharp jolt.
But the fog that followed was unavoidable. He rose to his feet and shook his head at Benjamin:
"No... let's pause for now. I'm not in a good state."
"I need to step out and check whether I'm experiencing hallucinations — whether there are signs of enkephalin intake exceeding safe levels... We'll resume once everything is confirmed to be normal."
He said it in his usual tone, then walked out through the laboratory door, all while Benjamin watched him with a look that was more than a little uneasy.
He left the lab looking almost disheveled — drifting, slightly unmoored.
Surrounded by blank white walls, he felt as though something in his mind had begun to come undone.
Ein. What are you thinking right now?
He asked himself that, lifting his head — and then, almost immediately, he noticed a faint pang of disappointment.
Because there was no Carmen's face rising from the surface of the walls.
What are you even thinking about?
He took a slow breath, then began, with a mind that buzzed with restless irritation, to analyze what he had just seen.
All right. Think it through, Ein. What exactly did you just experience...
Was that Carmen? Could that have been Carmen?
That... was probably Carmen, wasn't it?
But was it really her?
Over and over — and yet in the end, it was always the same single question.
And that one question had become the riddle that tormented him.
At last, Ein ventured it — quietly, almost tentatively:
"Carmen?"
The soft greeting echoed in the corridor.
Just as Ein was beginning to sink into disappointment, he heard the reply:
"I'm here."
That voice, still ringing right beside his ear — and Ein's eyes went wide again in an instant.
He looked up in disbelief, glancing all around him. He couldn't see Carmen anywhere — and yet the feeling was there, like she was standing just at the edge of perception...
"You... are you really still here?"
He asked it in a voice that couldn't quite hold steady — a tremor in it that was, for Ein, extraordinarily rare. A scientist should not tremble like this.
But right now, Ein couldn't stop himself.
No answer came. Gradually, Ein's breathing slowed. After a long silence, he finally asked the question that had been sitting at the back of his throat:
"I... I don't know whether you're still there. But if you are — can you answer something for me?"
No longer waiting for an answer that might or might not come, no longer certain whether this was simply his frayed nerves manufacturing illusions, Ein pressed on:
"Am I doing the right thing?"
He asked it in a voice heavy with exhaustion:
"Giovanni is gone. Michelle is gone... So many people aren't here anymore."
"The ones still in this lab — me, Carly, Benjamin, Daniel... you can count us on one hand."
"Is what I'm doing now... really the right thing?"
He waited for an answer. Though he didn't know what answer he was hoping for... Perhaps the question was only ever directed at himself. Nothing more.
But the answer finally came.
"Do what you believe is right, Ein."
In the void, Carmen's soul looked upon another soul, adrift and uncertain — and then, with a sigh, spoke in a way that was soft with comfort:
"Just hold onto what you know."
"Because I know you can do it."
"So — I believe in you."
A long string of words, and — for once — not a single one of them a question meant to cut.
For an Ein like this, there was nothing left to reproach.
In an instant, Ein was struck speechless. He felt himself, slowly, come back from the fog. He straightened his back, took one last look at the world around him.
Do what you believe is right?
He turned it over for a moment — then walked back into the laboratory.
"Professor, are you all right?"
Seeing Ein return, Benjamin turned his head and asked again. Ein gave a small nod.
"Yes. I'm fine. Let's keep going with the experiment."
"Still the same mind-model import we hadn't finished?"
Benjamin asked it as a matter of routine — but those words, as it turned out, were enough to send Ein into silence.
Still the same one?
Ein found himself asking that question inside his own head. He looked up, as if doing so might let him see Carmen again.
What I heard just now... was that your voice?
There were many explanations. Enkephalin. Stress-induced cognitive distortion. Some unexplored mechanism of an Originium Art acting on his mind... And yet — Ein had never wanted so badly for it to truly have been Carmen's voice.
Are you really still here?
The hundred sins I committed in the name of one final good — is there really still a chance to atone for them?
His lips moved slightly, as if he was turning something over in silence.
Like a drowning man who has nearly given up — and then, in his last fading breath, catches sight of a single straw to grasp at.
In the end, Benjamin looked on in astonishment as his teacher's face broke into a smile — a rare, self-mocking curl of the lips that almost never appeared.
"Atonement, huh..."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Nothing."
Ein shook his head, answering Benjamin: "Discard the previous mind model. Abandon the import of Carmen's memory."
Benjamin blinked, startled — then, once it registered, asked: "How much? All of it?"
"All of it. Throw out everything we have and start from scratch."
Ein said it with the cold precision of an engineer: "It won't take long. Three days at the outside."
"Understood."
Benjamin answered cleanly — but after a moment's hesitation, couldn't help but ask: "Then... Professor, may I ask why?"
"The reason... At the very least — I can't let myself have regrets at the last moment."
Ein considered for a moment, then gave that as his answer.
If that really was you — then there's no longer any need for this...
Ein turned his head, looking at the machines beside him, the thought passing through him in silence.
No need to commit one more sin on top of the rest.
Before that final good arrives — let the sins that come before it be just a little fewer...
He covered his face with both hands. A moment later, everything inside him had settled.
He gave a single, clean order.
"Begin."
——————————
[AAA City Ghost has ended the stream]
[White Holy Throne: So what you're saying is...]
[White Holy Throne: Ein isn't going to jam your personality data straight into Angela and call it a day? No more instant-noodle solution?]
Having watched the stream to its end, Anthony typed into the group chat with some surprise.
[AAA City Ghost: Yep, that's right. See, told you I have a way with words.]
[AAA City Ghost: A few sentences and it's handled.]
[White Holy Throne: I mean... I won't comment on that. But, given how things stand now — what happens to Angela once she's built?]
Thinking of the mechanical humanoid standing before Ein — the one that would one day become Angela — Anthony mulled it over, then typed:
[White Holy Throne: Don't tell me she's literally going to become your and Ein's daughter.]
[AAA City Ghost: ?]
[White Holy Throne: Holy — wait, so does that mean she's actually going to turn into a naive little mechanical kid?]
[AAA City Ghost: ??]
[AAA City Ghost: That's a warning!]
[White Holy Throne: Hey, relax, I'm not being weird about it. I don't have those kinds of worldly desires, you know.]
Anthony gave a wry smile as he typed.
[White Holy Throne: At most I just want to poach Angela to come work for me...]
In that regard, Anthony genuinely coveted the possibility. Every time he thought about Angela — a non-human intellect, an AI with unparalleled administrative and logistical capabilities — and imagined how, once his River Styx production line was up and running, she might even be able to help him plan the whole thing... his eyes lit up with want.
Carmen, I'm just saying — given our friendship in this chat, couldn't you ask Ein to build me my own dedicated Angela model?
That alone might knock out the conditions for upgrading my River Styx to Level 3!
But under Carmen's stern and unambiguous warning, Anthony ultimately let that idea go.
[Warrior of the Fallen Sound: Speaking of which, this Ein fellow seems to carry quite a story with him...]
[Warrior of the Fallen Sound: I have a strange feeling looking at him — like I'm seeing a glimpse of myself in there somehow.]
[White Holy Throne: I'll... reserve judgment on that one.]
[Golden Spirit Founder: Mm, he really does seem like a man with a story. Though he looks... complicated?]
[Golden Spirit Founder: Hard to tell what kind of person he is at first glance...]
[White Holy Throne: Ein? Personally, I'd call him someone you can't quite pin down.]
[White Holy Throne: A man where sin and atonement exist side by side — someone who walks through wrongdoing toward something that could be called redemption. That's my read on him. A genuinely singular kind of character.]
[Let Night City Burn: It's rare to see you speak so highly of someone, Anthony.]
[White Holy Throne: Ah, of course — there's more to it than that. I'll be keeping a close eye on his estate, too. I don't even want to think about what that converts to in points...]
[Let Night City Burn: ?]
[White Holy Throne: Ha, just kidding.]
Anthony typed that last line with a grin, then let his soul settle — and slowly, began to partition it.
All right, enough spectating...
He thought to himself with a quiet sigh.
Relaxation always slipped away too quickly. He'd watched long enough — it was time to get back on track.
Watching everyone else's stories was endlessly entertaining, and it made him nostalgic for a version of himself that had once been purely idealistic, untouched by any calculating interest... but a little nostalgia was all it was, and money still had to be made.
"Well then. Last up — my own tasks."
"Finish early, get one step closer to resurrection. Once I'm fully back, I'll finally be free — and then I can watch all the drama I want!"
He murmured that to himself, closed his eyes. The partitioned soul traveled along The Angler's fishing line, and in an instant, plunged into the surging waves of the Primordial River.
Submerged.
In the span of a single breath, through the gossamer thread of connection that was Dimensional Fishing, it sank into the current's edge — and arrived, at last, within the avatar.
And so, Avatar — Po, opened his eyes once more.
Inside the ancient temple, Po slowly rose to his feet and stretched.
Wang, who had been sitting nearby and brooding over an unfinished game of Go, noticed the shift in Anthony's presence and looked up.
"What are you getting up for? You were resting just fine."
Wang set down a piece and asked idly — though paired with that characteristically gloomy expression of his, the words came out sounding vaguely like a lecture.
Anthony couldn't help but pause, then let out a sigh:
"Second Brother, you really need to work on that scowl of yours. If Third Sister sees you like this she's going to have something to say about it again."
"You don't want her mistaking your jokes for you telling someone off, do you?"
Wang said nothing. He just went back to his game, ignoring the comment entirely.
Haah. This guy. Stubborn as a rock.
Looking at Wang, even Anthony was at a loss — and he waited until Wang had finished placing his piece before finally, in an unhurried tone, he replied:
"Don't worry, Jie's next awakening is probably still a ways off. Plenty of time to change before then..."
"You keep pushing it back, one excuse after another, until there's nothing left to push it back to... Alright, get up. Put down that pointless game. We've got work."
Anthony shook his head with a helpless sigh and stepped over to Wang's side, giving him a tug.
"What is it?"
Wang, clearly starting to lose patience with the interruption, turned to ask. Anthony spoke up calmly:
"There's been progress."
"Sister Jie's resurrection... we've managed something, at least. The situation might not be exactly what you were expecting, but her condition has recovered somewhat."
"—?!"
That got Wang's attention. He was on his feet in an instant — the game forgotten entirely — striding out two quick steps before realizing he had no idea where he was going. He turned back.
"Po — which way?"
"...Just follow me."
Anthony gave a mildly exasperated shake of his head, took Wang by the arm, and led him deeper into the ancient temple — to the place where Sister Jie's soul, gathered and condensed, had once taken the form of a calligraphic blade.
But now, behind the spirit shrine that had long been steeped in offerings of incense, the spot where the blade had rested was empty. The blade was gone.
Wang looked over — and in that instant, felt a familiar ripple of soul energy, one that stirred something deep in him.
"I used a particular method to let her soul temporarily anchor to an object — and manifest, for a time... It's a little hard to explain. Here, just look."
Anthony said this as he pointed forward, and Wang finally saw it.
Then he went quiet.
Then he looked at Anthony.
"I understand the general principle... but what, exactly, is that?"
Anthony turned to glance at the object in question — a small, round, all-black dragon, like a little toy figurine — then cleared his throat twice.
"A dragon bubble."
"...A what?"
Wang opened his mouth. He seemed like he had something to say. But nothing came out.
He stared at the small dragon bubble before him with the expression of a man questioning the fundamental nature of reality.
Just as he was preparing to offer some kind of verdict on this — his pupils contracted sharply. And then he saw it: the soul taking shape, forming slowly, on the surface of the dragon bubble.
"Ah — Second Brother."
And then, the soul of Jie turned toward Wang with a smile and said softly:
"I'm back."
____
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