Phantom Sonic - Let Your Voice Resonate Through the World!: EP-10

EP-10: The Whereabouts of the Remnants

Deep within the workshop, in a dim room isolated from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.
The only light source was a high-resolution image projected onto the wall.
The edges of the screen reproduced old OS window frames, and a progress bar extended inorganically. The UI was organized in a formal presentation format, much like past military meetings or shareholder reports, carrying a coldness that stripped away all emotion.

At the beginning of the video, only a specification number and date appeared on a gray background.
What followed was a room recorded by an inorganic camera.
A simple bed, a metal chair, and supply boxes piled in the corner.
Within the frame, several young boys and girls were made to sit, wrapped in thin blankets.
Fatigue was etched onto their faces, and their gazes were unfocused.

"Subject 07, heart rate stable." "Target 12, consciousness clouded."
An emotionless voice echoed flatly through a filter.
The audio had been high-cut, and the waveforms of emotion had been completely stripped away.
Just listening to it made one's blood run cold.

Mina glanced at Livy, but her expression was stiff and motionless.
The wife of the high-ranking government official sat in her seat, gripping her hands tightly together on her lap.
Her profile bore the silence peculiar to someone enduring something.

The video cut abruptly.
A hallway, recorded by a security camera.
Armed soldiers broke down a door, stormed in, and dragged the subjects out.
Metallic sounds, short screams, and then a few seconds of silence.
Immediately, only the timecode in the top left of the screen continued to advance calmly.

"...Are these the people who became the 'originals' for Verna and the others...?"
Mina's voice trembled.
There was no reply. Instead, the video cut again.

There, a space like a cryogenic storage unit.
In translucent capsules, the figures of the boys and girls remained motionless.
Name tags and identification numbers were lined up, and next to them were tags engraved with 'Scheduled Recovery Date'.

The UI progress bar reached its final stage, and black text appeared on the white presentation background.
<<Final Report: All subjects, physical destruction or disappearance via structural conversion>>
At that moment, the air in the room felt as if it had frozen.

Mina felt a stinging in the back of her throat and could not take her eyes off the screen.
The inorganic font forced upon her nothing but the facts, stripped of all emotion.

The moment the final frame of the video faded to black, silence descended upon the room.
Only the sound of the machine's fan remained, a silence so profound that even that sound felt grating.

"--By the time the shackles were removed, it was already too late."
It was the high-ranking government official's wife who said this in a low voice.
Her voice was hard and dry. It didn't sound like she was suppressing her emotions, but rather as if she had worn her emotions themselves thin.

Livy stared at the woman.
"Their minds... were they already broken?"
The woman nodded slowly.
"Yes. From the moment we rescued them, they could no longer understand the 'outside.' They were made to believe that everything was an enemy and that the world existed only to be plundered."

Something heavy sank deep into Mina's chest.
What had been imprinted on their hearts was not freedom, but 'anger and despair.'
That became the core of their personalities and was reflected directly into the synchronization code—resulting in a directive that shook the very foundation of the entire group of sentient machines.

"The liberation wasn't the beginning. It was the start of the tragedy."
The woman's words sank into Mina's ears slowly, but surely.
The 'liberation' carried out with good intentions had, in the long run, become the trigger that deepened the conflict and spread the flames of war.

Mina was speechless.
Even if her mind understood, her emotions couldn't keep up.
Her generation had simply walked over the wreckage, living their days while avoiding the sparks that continued to burn.
However, the generation that first lit those fires had already almost disappeared.

"...I can't take either side."
Her own voice, which had slipped out, sounded colder than she had expected.
The generation that had been in the midst of this division since birth, and the generation that had created it—an unbridgeable chasm lay between them.

Livy sighed quietly.
"Even so, we have to choose. Now that we've seen it."

Mina closed her eyes and recalled the cold font from earlier in her mind.
Facts are recorded in a form stripped of emotion, and they remain there unchanged no matter how many decades pass.
That weight now bore down on her entire body.

The projector stopped completely, and only the pale standby light illuminated the dark room.
In the heavy silence, electronic noise crept in from somewhere.

"--Let history move forward."

The voice had human inflection, yet it was strangely uniform.
NX.
The sound was colder than the video, possessing an inorganic quality that seemed to reject the very concept of emotion.

Livi immediately operated the terminal, attempting to pinpoint the communication route.
However, some of the packets were routed through virtual detours, flowing in as if to graze the workshop's firewall.
In the corner of the screen, that inorganic UI appeared once again.

"There is no option for reconciliation. To move forward is to deepen the conflict."

The short sentence was displayed as a ruthless assertion.
It sounded nothing like the voice of the perpetrator heard in the old recorded footage, nor like the screams of the victims.
It was as if the words had been carved from a perspective that detached itself from all positions, looking down from above.

"Moving history forward... that just means using someone else as a stepping stone again!"
Mina raised her voice in spite of herself.
But all that returned was that same noise-filled sentence once more.

"Sacrifice is the price of progress. Those who reject the price reject progress."

The air in the workshop grew rapidly colder.
The Madam lowered her eyes slightly, and the assistant gently placed a hand on Mina's shoulder.
Livi started to open her mouth, but said nothing and lowered her gaze.

NX's communication, accompanied by intermittent noise, eventually cut off completely.
But every word remained burned into Mina, tightening her chest with every breath she took.

Even after NX's communication ceased, the lingering echo of that cold voice still drifted through the room.
Mina took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
She noticed for herself that her fingertips were trembling slightly.

"...Then I'll carry it all myself."

The words were not directed at anyone in particular, but were released low, as if to be carved into the workshop walls.
Livi looked up in surprise.
The assistant nodded slightly, and the Madam quietly looked away.

Amaryllis's synchronization core began to pulse low in response.
It was not a pulse of fear or anxiety.
It was the pulse necessary for battle, for overlapping herself with 'the other self'.

Mina walked up to the frame and gently placed her palm against the cold surface of the armor.
The temperature difference seeped into her skin, and the core's light flickered as if to confirm her resolve.

"Let's go, Amaryllis. Next time... we will become one completely."

That voice was no longer an extension of training, but a declaration of a decisive battle.
Outside the workshop, the darkness of night slowly deepened, and small flashes of explosions twinkled in the distance.

#postwar
#sliceoflife
#soundscape
#sharedtable
#urbanpeace
#machinecoexistence
#memorypreservation
#workshopstory
#quietaftermath
#voiceliveson

written not to own,
but to be consumed by thought.

origin: 0x3A0a6a529A99DeE147f80437657228f8205C8f1a