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You did not panic when you took your first shaky breath. You looked around, at first quickly, and then slowly, measuring the space around you. Then, you shouted some words, ones that I could not understand. I wish I could have replied to you, but all you heard back was silence. You remembered seeing a lone terminal earlier, and you went to investigate. I wondered if I could communicate to you through that small window, and I gave it my best shot. In the meanwhile, I started reaching out to touch you. Again, you did not panic as you started looking at the terminal. You looked at the flowing text with intent, but you still did not understand. You then tried to interact with me, inputting commands that I haven't encountered in thousands of years. Maybe you could understand. Then, you saw me.
You froze for a bit, then moved back. I did not want to hurt you, but you could never understand that. You started running. From one hall to another, I kept pace with you, never faster, never slower. I did not want to hurt you. However, I could never let you outside. I'd never let anyone outside. We found ourselves in a similar room, but with more terminals than the last. You fumbled around with the switches. It might have been random, or maybe not, I couldn't tell for sure. So I crept up to you. Then, darkness filled my vision. It wasn't random, then. You did know what you were doing. My movements slowed; yours did not. You had a personal source of light; I did not. Maybe you just couldn't trust me yet. I understood that. Maybe you just had to see the world for yourself. I could not understand that. But I could try, so I let you free.
I followed you from afar, tracing your path through the boundary between the wasteland and the plains. You found a place to settle, and there you stayed for a few days. You seemed to be comfortable, so I tried talking to you again. The ground came into view, and there was more than you. I wasn't planning on going out to look for others today, but, now that I'm here, I couldn't think of a good reason not to do so. I took a few with me, but you, you started protecting them. Did you know what from? You started identifying my weaknesses, guiding the rest of them around. But you made a mistake. You slipped, and this time, I was not going to be patient.
You found yourself seeing a garden. Inside that garden, faces you recognized and faces you didn't. You wandered for a moment, and found me. You asked what this was, and I answered honestly. You asked who comes here, and I said humans of this era. You may have understood, or maybe you didn't. You asked why.
< We choose to define humanity from an average of a populous evaluated near the moment of conception and any time thereafter. Following that definition, we conclude that you are not human. Given that conclusion, the system will not accept you into this garden. The overseer has been punished for his incompetence. >
The garden began slipping away from you. You had asked why, so I said that we wait for the day we can go back. You did not see the pained look on my face as you returned to the barren plains.
You did not panic when you took your second shaky breath. I did not panic when I took my first shaky breath. The people around you, of course, did. You wanted to explain, but you yourself did not understand. So, you made your own path.
I still followed you, of course, but I never did try to talk to you again. I was content with simply watching you for now. You seemed to move with purpose, from the plains, to the overgrowth, to the forest. You stayed with people, but never for long. You seemed to understand my obligations about everyone else, and you still viewed me as a tentative enemy, so you kept them at an arms reach, and left before I could convince the system to let me approach. It seemed you were looking for something. I wondered if you knew what.
You eventually found a relic, something constructed of humans that have long since passed. I never knew what it was, but you seemed familiar. I watched you learn, I watched you grow pale as you came to understand how this world came to be. I heard two words come from you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm-"
I think I understood what you said, and I wished I could ask, "what for?" But I knew you still could not understand me. Eventually, you got back up, and continued exploring.
< The Earth is going to burn soon. >
The system called out to me. I had different priorities, so I hoped you didn't mind that I had to leave. I hoped we would see each other again, soon.
I began collecting all that I could, moving them to the garden. The humans that were left were so hard to see now. They adapted over the years, only natural considering that that's how they managed to stay. I wanted to get frustrated at them, at their ignorance, how they never even tried to learn why I was ripping their minds away. And when the star above begins to burn the ground below, most of the surface dwellers that I can't save will burn with it. Some always survive, though. I admire that of your type. But, when the star calms down again, those who survive come out into the world again, the cycle continues, and the system continues to bind me. But I understood your kind, and I could never get angry.
However, I've always been amused by the arrogance of your kind. You believed you could create a star, and now it sang the melody of your demise.
I went back to the first group of settlers you encountered. They had moved since, and I couldn't find them again.
I never fully left you, though. I saw you come out of the abandoned relic, watched you as you continued towards another relic, observed as you settled down again. I remembered you like to settle around other people, and the system was far more agreeable now, so I headed your way.
Were you expecting me? Is that why you were moving everybody towards the next relic? Either way, I'd never seen such a large group of people on the surface, so I should thank you for alerting me here. I began approaching you, but a barrier cut me off. You were expecting me, and you found away to completely disable me. But you don't know why I'm doing this! Please! You're going to kill them like this!
< It has begun to radiate. >
You saw it, too, one of the stars becoming ever so slightly redder. And how it pulsed. You picked up on that, too. You told the people not to leave the relic. It would protect the settlers. But, the surface people still required sustenance. They could only watch as all living things on the ground decayed and fell apart.
And then I saw you come out. It utterly baffled me. You at least understood what was happening to the world, even if you didn't understand my purpose. So, why? Was this your way of ending yourself on your own terms? You were going somewhere, though. You were coming to me.
You found yourself back in the spire where I resided. I saw the bloodied pores on your body, watched as you coughed up blood. Step by step, you made your way to the control room. You said something softly.
"Was this the best solution they could come up with? You? Makes sense, if you can't fix the Earth, why spend so much effort trying to leave it when you can create a virtual paradise for everyone? Fuck, I'm so stupid!" You coughed and chuckled hoarsely. "Guess it doesn't matter anymore. If you can hear me, I'll give you new eyes, so you can see everyone."
You found a terminal in the control room, and gave it commands. You seemed to understand now, and I was just as desperate as you. So I let you be, and simply watched. Darkness filled my vision again, and I panicked for a moment. Did you not actually understand? And then, I saw again, and I saw so much more. The commands continued, though slower now. You were weakening. You didn't have much time, and you knew it. And with a final stroke, you collapsed to the ground.
"You should be able to actually move everyone into that virtual garden now. So, go." Your voice was so quiet now.
I'll come back for you, I promise. I'll save everyone, I promise.
I said one lie. One lie, that will stay with me forever. I said that I would come back for you. I promised, too.