The goal they fought for was nothing more than a reenactment of past history, after which they would continue down the same old cycle, rotting and collapsing over the next hundreds or thousands of years until they became chaotic ruins.
His master had once uploaded humanity's historical data into him. That had been his first encounter with humanity's ancient history.
Back then, there was no Human Federation. There were only groups of humans gathering together under nonsensical pretexts and slaughtering one another.
They revolted, believing that everything would improve once the nobles were overthrown. Everyone thought they had taken a great step forward, when in truth they had only moved a tiny step. Once the king and nobles' hierarchy of ranks was gone, the capitalists' hierarchy of ranks emerged. Once the capitalists' hierarchy of ranks was eliminated, the idealists' hierarchy of ranks emerged.
Layer upon layer of divisions, repeatedly destroying these hierarchies that both existed and did not exist, only to dress them in new clothes and recreate the divisions...
What was the meaning of this?
There was no meaning at all.
Headquarters could not understand this meaningless struggle, just as he and several other AIs could not endure the endless repetitive wars aboard the Ark.
Perhaps it was humanity's shortsightedness that allowed them to survive within such meaningless cycles.
Master, oh Master... why couldn't you limit my computing power... Headquarters felt a trace of sorrow. Looking at the simple guns and cannons before him, he suddenly found himself envying ignorance.
Another failed attempt to destroy his computational core filled Headquarters with grief. He had been forbidden from harming himself in such a manner.
Headquarters was his master's finest AI assistant, as well as the corporation's most expensive AI project. From private code to corporate regulations, everything Headquarters could and