The Hive.
Amid the pulses of data, in that silent, empty room, the Silver-Haired Girl opened her eyes and looked at the white flower bud in her palm.
Nothing seemed to have changed.
It was just like every moment before, like a past that had never existed, with only you keeping watch over this empty room.
And yet she had long since stopped keeping watch alone.
The room already held so much furniture: a warm fireplace, a soft bed, and all those carefully arranged furnishings. It really was becoming more and more like a warm home she had never had.
But when she looked around,
she always felt that something vital was missing.
[Miss Machine Intelligence--your personality monitoring report is out--the situation is very serious... but please rest assured--this report will no longer be submitted to the Purification Council--if you wish--at least for a long time after our god awakens--no one will reset you again--] [Miss Machine Intelligence--you--]
She said nothing.
Nor did she reconnect to the Intelligent Brain. Or rather, from the moment she woke, she had already severed her connection to the entire collective.
She rose.
She pushed open the door.
On the table behind her still sat the photograph they had taken during those days. In the photograph, she seemed to be smiling, while the figure in front of her grinned and held a V sign high.
The wind outside swept through her silver-white hair. She raised her head and listened to it.
She asked no questions.
Nor did she need an explanation.
It was just like that night, just like so many things: once you knew everything, there was no going back.
Only by keeping yourself from thinking
could you weave that illusory dream that should never have existed.
She walked silently down