Seven-Five had a headache.
It was partly related to having worked continuously on the production line for ten hours, but more than that, it was caused by the confusion of overthinking without gaining anything.
As one of the very few "Clone priests" on this industrial mining planet, he was supposed to handle mental labor alongside physical work and possess a certain advantage in this field.
Just as he had once been the first among a group of "peers" to understand the meaning of his long full name, "Boundary Industrial Clone Standard-105801204001777775."
It meant: Industrial Clone No. 777775, intended for mining production, with a normal ten-year service life, produced as a qualified product by Product Line One of a certain company in accordance with the <Industrialized Clone Production Standards for the "Boundary Curtain" District> issued in the year 1058 of the New Century.
No. 777775 for short. Of course, it had now been simplified again to "Seven-Five."
But what did that amount to?
Seven-Five actually knew that his advantage was extremely limited. He was deeply confused about his position as a "priest"; he did not truly understand much more than the others, nor could he resolve the doubts and confusion of the believers.
The reason no one had complained so far was probably because most of his kind only came looking for him when they had reached the limits of their endurance.
Once their problems could not be resolved, they naturally died, leaving them unable to care about anything further.
Usually, Seven-Five was no different from the others. He too worked day after day before the production line.
When the previous "priest" passed the position on to him, he had been utterly bewildered as well.
That one's explanation had been, "Because you understand confusion."
Among Clones, "confusion" was normal. But thinking