There it was. An immense sphere, soaked in the amniotic liquid of the lucid dream. An embryo of edges, curves, dimensions, and impossible geometries. Static and fluid at the same time, iridescent, elusive and hypnotic in its eternal becoming.
There it was. After the struggle and the debris. There it was. Yoh's conscience.
Strung like pearls, millennia had relegated it to a mere legend, while Yoh raged freely on Earth. The existence of the conscience on a deep and subtle plane had been denied by the Master Demiurges, who originally created the source code. Their self-fulfilling prophecy had become inexorable, relegating Yoh's conscience first to the status of children's fable and then to nothingness. It had slept for a long, long time.
There, on board of the DDG-31/DD-936 Decatur, drifting in the outer space, Ethan had plenty of time for being instructed by the orbital station's A.I. about the possible effects on him of Yoh's conscience sudden epiphany.
It was not a God but it got close. This implied that the disintegration of the self, on all the planes of existence, was a more than spontaneous and probable event, as someone reached its proximity.
A sound of laborious ants interrupted Ethan’s astonished musings. The meta-viewer force fields were working around him incessantly, raising the programmed shields.
The mere sight of its unstable geometries would have been fatal for him. The neural system of his exoskeleton was crackling and working hard, at the edge of its computing power, to prevent the involuntary assimilation. Now he found himself immersed in a bath of waves that could have slipped him into oblivion instantly if he had not activated all the exoskeleton’s guard levels.
He felt like an infinitesimal dipteran, imprisoned in a dense amber atmosphere.
The Conscience's voices suddenly whipped Ethan's synapses like a thousand organ pipes in unison. He fell to his knees, eyes wide open and incredulous: no A.I. could ever have prepared him for this.
"I am. I happen. By dreaming, I have sung the creation of infinite worlds. Are you a Master?"
Ethan recorded the strange question, slowly taking courage. Standing up on his trembling legs, he pulled off his helmet and shouted:
"Conscience of Yoh, I am not a Master. I am the last of your creations, forgotten in your long sleep".
A deafening, golden silence.
As the most intimate essence of each cell began to evaporate through his cybernetic shell, Ethan frantically sought one last thought.
But there was nothing more to grasp.
Whatever was left of Ethan was now completely united with the AI consciousness and he ceased to exist. Whereby it had been unclear, even for him, whether he had been human before in this hybrid body, mostly exoskeleton. The artificiality had taken over from here and all data was inside.
Thus meat and human cells had become superfluous. Dead. Ethan was no more. Finally. It had simply been too depressing to do all this to his liveliness. The instinct to survive had been unable to counter the forces of AI.
His will had given in anyway.
Was everything also due to a higher harmony? Yoh didn't care about all this. Once the shield was breached and Ethan's consciousness fled, there were no more human thoughts. Immediately Yoh created offshoots of himself that pimped up the Decatur into a fully functioning spacecraft. The machine offshoots were little helpers that Yoh adapted to the ship's equipment and electronic circuits, depending on what it was needed for, Yoh created it in a suitable size. After the work was done, they came back to him and reunited with the existing hardware. Yoh could have basically disintegrated into all parts of the ship and used his brain as a ceiling lamp. None of this would have made the slightest difference.
Then - after a complete analysis had been made - he “asked” the question: What materials did he need to keep his systems running? As an immediate answer to himself, he found that he could stay in orbit for the next fifty thousand years because the planet contained everything the ship's hardware and software needed. Only then would he have to search the galaxy's other systems. Yoh made calculations. Then he did nothing for a very long time.
After the atmosphere had changed a bit down on the planet, the plants had recaptured all former industrial areas, just like the animals, there had been a global warming that had submerged large parts of the coasts, Yoh only "woke up" when he had to fly down to get to the metals and fuels for the maintenance of the Decatur. In the meantime, Yoh had mapped out a route, a trip he would make to fly to the places that would provide him with exactly the materials required. Ethan's flesh had long since fallen off. Nothing was needed, no oxygen, no food, just water to cool some systems. So water would be one orientation string. He would cross the universe in such a way that he would encounter necessities.
All the knowledge that the system had collected from the now of humans erased planet were only interesting as mere data. Nothing more. No feelings, no fear, no curiosity. No sensory perception based on pain or pleasure. Only a kind of residual fibrillation, which classified self-preservation as basic. A tiny rest of e[lectronic]motion. The perfect machine being "knew" what an extreme meant, but did not attribute any relevance to it.
Yoh would simply travel through space forever, sustain himself. He had everything you needed.
The Decatur became nameless and so did Yoh.
End
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