Chapter 687 Twenty Years of Hope and Waiting (2/2)
[Work diary, day 3031: Second month after awakening. Nothing changed at all, everyone else's lives are only 'work', 'stare blankly' and 'sleep'. They could hear me, but they won't care about what I'm saying. Incidentally, there had been a new batch of children who came to the Garden. They appeared more fearful of their environment than those before, but they seemed real… But after a few days, they became the same as the other children—happy, but like a puppet!]
[Work diary, day 3047: If this continues, I fear that I would be assimilated like those puppets… The damaged puppets are increasing recently, they appeared to be burnt by all sorts of flames and showed traces of freezing. Seemed to have gone through a battle. It's a hassle to repair them, but it does help me shake off the sense of isolation…]
[Work diary… whatever motherfucking day it is. What the hell is with this damned world? I can't even leave the corridors of Repairs! Those Soul Puppets are blocking the doorways while carrying the thrash-compacting furnace ray generators, can't risk my life… I really wish to see a different sight—I even begin to miss the days I don't have any intelligence. At least I won't grumble even after working thirty days without stopping!]
The diary writer began to curse. His rage was visibly rising, but unable to find a channel to vent, he finally calmed and began to write into his diary again.
[Work diary, day 3173: Even if it's hard to accept how the others could accept such a lonely life where nothing changes… perhaps I was wrong, and the part where my soul manages annoyances was disjointed like those Soul Puppets with damaged cores… But I don't intent to repair it. Well, there are many books in Repairs, probably for knowledge about repairing Soul Puppets. Might as well read since there's no way to vent.]
A blank section followed. The handwriting afterward, however, differed greatly from those before, seemingly having been separated by a long time interim.
[Work diary, day 3726: I'm probably a little mad to actually write in this diary again, but what I saw today must be noted down… The children from the Garden has grown, the oldest of them probably now adults. The Soul Puppets led them away to Healthcare, and they were never seen again… And then the stores of Soul Cores increased. Heavens. I don't know what I'm saying—what am I doing? Who am I?]
[Work diary, day 3739: A few days ago, I stripped myself naked and doused myself in cold water. My head started to head up… that's the fever the books mentioned. Soul Puppets entered the workshop and took me away—for the first time, I left the corridor of Repairs as they took me inside Healthcare. The same, expressionless people were there, diagnosing me, giving me medicine and injections… I took the chance to observe my surroundings. Another child was brought in by a Soul Puppet when I'm being injected, and it took her to the operation room in the back. When the same Puppet came out, there were two boxes in its hand. No child.
The puppet placed the boxes on a cabinet over in a corner, in which I then noticed that there were many of the same boxes placed on every cabinet around us. 'Ultra-powered Unit'? That's probably what was written on it.
I noticed that there was another additional Soul-Core in the stores when I returned to repairs. I probably understood – although my heart was unexpectedly calm – and here I was thinking I had gone crazy. Could it be that I am not actually mad, even now? Hahaha.]
[Work diary, day 4000: A round number. I begin to leave my depression: I am, after all alive. That means there's hope—no matter how lonely or dull, I am better off than those civilians in Nursery or those children sent into the operation room. Heavens, I'm actually feeling a sense of accomplishment over that. In the end, compared to the ignoring peasants and the harvested crops, wouldn't a lunatic repairman naturally feel that he stands head and shoulders over the others?]
[Work Diary. Day 4123: Today's is most worth writing down, because there are more than fifteen Soul Puppets sent in for repairs—a record. Those idiots are filled with signs of having gone through a battle, with all kinds of piercing and shatters, and there are seven damage Soul Cores alone… Someone is fighting these bastards, and actually destroying them! That is the greatest dive for me. Even if would never know if these people would arrive, I would wait. Hope, and wait. That is the only thing keeping me sane in this endless isolation.]
[Day 4778: The guy next door, Repairs Number Five was taken away by Soul Puppets. There were wrinkles on his face, and his hands shaking. He was sent into healthcare as well, and another Soul Core was added. I glared at those patrolling Puppets for a long time afterwards—is there a soul I'm acquainted with beneath those steel shells?]
The hand that wrote those words appeared to be trembling, seemingly from fear and rage, but mostly bewilderment. The owner of the diary appeared to not know what he should be doing, right until the next entry.
[Day 5000, another round number. I've begun to get used to isolation, emptying my mind like those who keep staring blanking. By taking into account the Puppets' patrolling patterns, I managed to visit some sections of Garden, and I mostly understood what kind of an environment I lived in.
Garden is surrounded by vast Nurseries, with new children sent in here every single day. I am at the centermost section of the Garden, and any heavily damaged puppets were sent in here for repairs or scrapping… If Nursery were the farm for the wheat and bread that we eat, then the Garden was perhaps the farm that nurture 'Soul Cores'.
If that's the case, whose wheat and bread are we?
In the very least, I believe my wait to be worth it. I am finding out the truth of our world bit by bit… Although I can't awaken others, this record must have meaning. We have words, books, we could create Soul Puppets, build colossal Nurseries, we can't be born as puppets that only know how to work and sleep… Someone had changed us into our state today, and I will remember all of it.]
There was no other entry afterward, with another huge blank section left in the diary from that page onwards. It was until the page flipped until the very last, where a huge number appeared suddenly.
[Day 10000]
[Twenty years. Twenty years since I've awakened. It's been such a long time that I've even forgotten the start of my journey—found my diary fortunately, allowing me to remember the past.
I'm old now. Wrinkles are starting to show on my face, just as it had been with Repairs Number Five. My hand is not shaking yet, but it would probably be soon—it might be an illusion, but I keep feeling that the Soul Puppets were keeping their eyes on me. They'd probably send me to Healthcare soon, and I would become a Soul Core as well.
I had been shocked, fearful and despising of those of my own kind, those who never awakened, before proceeding to look down and overlook them. I believed myself to be exceptional, capable of changing things, only to eventually realize that I'm no different for them. I've even had to endure greater isolation and torment than they do, even as I led an identical life. So what? They are the same as I am, it is mere fortune that I gained sentience thanks to the Soul Blast, and only that: these words I have written down is only to prove my existence.
I pity them, just as I pity my own fate. I've thought for twenty years, and the conclusion is that I exist as long as hope exists. I would never lose my find, but I simply don't have another twenty years to wait.
The battle continues out there. Puppets requiring repairs were being sent in incessantly, and it is exactly why I still held hope in my heart. I know that the Soul Puppets would return one day, taking me away and turning me into a Soul Core. Even so, I would never let them have that pleasure—they will never get what they want.
I would rather die with this hope that kills, rather than endure the infinite serenity of despair for a single second.
I choose death. I should have chosen the sweet mortal coil all along, freeing myself from the cage of hopelessness. Such is my only freedom left in this prison named 'Garden'.
The repairman no longer maintained his own mind. This is the last work journal entry.]
Blood dripped, the viscous sanguine slowly congealing. The face of the withering middle-aged man could be seen sprawled upon that work platform.
His visage was tidy, his body robust. Years of maintenance duty had kept his body healthy even as his hair whitened and he started to body. He was wearing a grey repairman uniform, a blowtorch in his left hand while his right hand hung limply beside him, the fingers slightly curling above a pen that lay in a pool of blood.
In his last moments, the man had blown his brains out with the blow torch that could smelt alloy.
It was his choice: freedom in death.
Meanwhile, a purple-green radiance flashed past, ignoring everything as it landed on the little workshop.
Supremely dazzling silver radiance swept across everything around it as the Steel Shard began to select a host. As a dull hum echoed from every corner of the space, every Soul Puppet in the Garden began to look around, moving in search of suspicious targets.
Soon, however, the humming abruptly stopped: unable to search for its target, the Soul Puppet could only return to its usual place… but if there was someone who could sense the spiritual world, it would definitely hear a dull but distinct reverberation as if something was completely embedded and set in place.
And in the very next instant, an incomparable might swept across the entire Garden up to the Nursery, dimming all illumination.
In the small repair space, everything stayed the same.
However, the damaged Soul Puppet's dull eyes suddenly flickered for an instant, just as a streak of silver radiance with purple-green tint permeated its entire body.
”Serial number: Snova-21 Harvest Mode reactivated. Core ready, unknown energy source inserted… Soul Trooper reactivated.”
A voice without emotion echoed, but it slowly changed, finally becoming the deep voice of a man. ”Body most fitting for original lifeform found, commencing possession, assimilation, Steel Shard plugin installation and soul indoctrination…”
”Descent complete.”