"I once asked him the same question... What was the point of traveling through these Near-destroyed Worlds, desperately dragging at corpses already half-buried, trying to call back scattered souls of the dead?"
"He told me that I did not understand humans. Humans were creatures who would cling on as long as there was even the slightest hope. Though there were fragile individuals among them who gave up on themselves, human civilization as a whole was extraordinarily tenacious. When their desire to survive erupted, they could accomplish many great things."
"While he was saving these Near-destroyed Worlds, the humans in those worlds were also encouraging him to persist. Though he had never succeeded, he had always hoped. That hope did not vanish with the destruction of those worlds; instead, it began to burn like a flame. Every destroyed world, every human who struggled, became fuel for this Flame of Hope, keeping it burning without end."
"If destruction had become inevitable, then struggling would become meaningful as well."
"He told me that hope had no 'time limit.' Even within a brief span of time, it could blaze with infinite heat. A moment of hope could make a fallen human stand again, let alone the undying flames of hope carried on by world after world, individual after individual. He believed that if he kept traveling, he would one day develop a way to fight the Abyss. Then he would bring that method to every world and pass the spark on to every person."
"I, too, am only a tiny spark he left behind, continuing to shine and give off heat in this world until I burn out completely. So burning is the entirety of my meaning..."
The voice of this "mechanical savior" echoed through the corridor. He seemed filled with reverence for the