Well, for us mechanized humans, the most intense form of contact isn’t through mucous membranes but rather within the cyberspace. Even without a secondary brain in the current situation, if we max out the clock speed, the experienced time can exceed 3,000 times normal at its peak.
In short, if we so desire, we can stretch a second to feel almost like an hour.
“Considering that exchange, Your Grace, the Archbishop, you do have a line connected, don’t you?”
“…Yes, it’s here.”
When she extended her palm, a terminal embedded around her wrist was visible. It seemed a small computer was embedded in the surplus space of her forearm. This is the form used by the old humans who held aversion towards full cyberization—a safer option since it’s not directly connected to the brain. However, given she has a secondary brain, self-awareness should interface quite smoothly.
Hmm, while the Zodiac Republic Federation hasn’t mechanized to the extent we have, they are said to have accepted both that and genetic modification. So why do their descendants still prefer such outdated methods? Full cyberization would allow for far superior processing capacity and speed.
“Was there anything written about direct connections in the apocrypha?”
“High-level contact with Sanctus Gear requires certain instances of direct connection. Hence, among the Gear Priests, only those above the rank of a priest possess terminals. However, this is limited to those with talent…”
Ah, I see. Not all Gear Priests advance based solely on talent—it’s also political standing. Religion definitely complicates things.
“In that case, there’s something confidential. I’ll share everything through direct connection.”
“Direct connection to a high-level Sanctus Gear involves considerable mental strain. Connecting with a machine on the level of a guardian deity is no light matter…”
“I’ll modulate it appropriately. You can rest assured.”
Using an archaic direct connection device, if one access the functionalities of “Inanna 12” with virtually no cybersecurity measures, no wonder the strain is immense. The potential biological impact isn’t even predictable, especially since no one has really attempted something so reckless—let alone connecting directly to a machine with just a secondary brain. By the standards of higher consciousness, this would be considered madness.
Impressively, they’ve been managing this for a thousand years, leaving me more astonished than skeptical.
“Uh, Selene, this chassis’ interface only supports body-mediated terminal connections, right? Routing through Titan 2 would be too much of a burden, so I’m considering a direct cyber connection.”
“In that case, please expose your thoracic cavity. We’ll connect directly from the braincase. Although, there’s a potential for virus-induced self-destruction, right?”
“Please take care of the support, then. The standing firewall is strong, but your monitoring would be helpful.”
“Still, accepting the possibility of a self-destruction terrorist attack and proceeding with the direct connection seems unwise…”
Clearing the chest cavity, which typically held an AI for remote control simulations, we exposed the cyberbrain and extended long, direct connection lines through the drone.
Hesitantly, she received and after a moment of hesitation, inserted it into her wrist.
Commencement of synchronization.
“Where are we?”
“Welcome to my cyber entrance.”
After a brief flicker, I had transported my consciousness to the designated reception area within the cyberspace.
I set the avatar to the face I first met the Archbishop with, dressed in the unified military’s ceremonial attire—appropriate for meeting important persons. My hair was styled neatly backwards to project a clean-cut image.
The room motif was modeled after a penthouse from the late 20th century of the Common Era—a wealthy person’s residence filled with lavish items. A large dining table for four, a dining kitchen, ornamental plants, paintings on the walls, and various electronic products including a television. The space also offered an unobstructed view of the starlit cityscape, a night view that I—well, not me personally but the preset system—found fitting for impressing esteemed guests. Usually, I operate within a fantasy-themed space with bookshelves filled with extravagantly decorated sacred texts housed in medieval-styled stone architecture, but I switched the setting promptly to avoid diluting the sense of mystery.
Truthfully, spacious rooms make me uneasy. A cozy eight-tatami room suits me best.
“Currently, your secondary brain is disengaged, and we’re connecting directly to your self-awareness. Relax, I won’t delve into your self-domain. Instead, I’ve guided you to this entrance.”
I gestured invitingly toward the chair, and she hesitantly took her seat. It appeared to be her first time stepping into such an advanced cyberspace.
“Shall we have some tea? Do you prefer something bitter or sweet?”
“Is this really cyberspace? Compared to the contact with the Sanctus Gear, the mental burden seems so minimal…”
“Because you’re being connected indirectly through your secondary brain, there’s hardly any strain on your biological brain. I pride myself on having a modicum of consideration.”
Though I’m unaware of how much strain connecting to “Inanna 12” imposes, I’m gently interfacing with her secondary brain, transmitting signals converted into simulated sensations. More cautious than my interaction with Galatea—when I hadn’t yet realized her structure, I unintentionally intruded a little too deeply. In that instance, I had sought language format data and ventured into her memory sectors, but this time, as I aim to negotiate with the Archbishop and prove I’m harmless, I’ll maintain the utmost civility.
Using a simulated café machine, I brewed aromatic coffee, placing it alongside milk and sugar in front of the guest. While the stomach won’t fill, the sense of taste is genuine.
To demonstrate it’s free of poison, I poured coffee from the same pot for myself, sweetened it with sugar, added generous amounts of milk, and took a sip. Based on the robust American-style coffee, enhanced by a skilled taste reproduction engineer from my homeland using bonus funds, it remains the best coffee I’ve ever had. Even an expert connoisseur would struggle to brew something as aromatic without utmost dedication.
This is the privilege of mastering cyberspace.
“Mm, delicious. I’ve been on nothing but flavorless nutritional tablets and water lately, so this is quite the treat.”
“Does the Canopy Holy Capital have coffee as well?”
“It is a precious item from the Sacred Food Production Factory, consumed only during formal meals.”
In that case, it’s a proper treat.
Her hesitance in consuming due to unfamiliarity with the eating culture was somewhat endearing, yet I urged her not to let it go cold. With skillful maneuvering, she lowered her veil and took a cautious sip.
“How aromatic…”
“I’m glad you like it.”
I settled opposite her and reintroduced myself.
“I’ve mentioned it before, but my name is Matsuyo Nozomu. Rank is Captain. I’m currently a remnant of the Galactic Higher Consciousness Union’s second secondary seeding fleet—though our fleet perished, leaving me merely a broken soldier.”
Realizing I hadn’t asked her name, I inquired, and after a brief hesitation, she responded.
“From the Canopy Holy Cathedral, ‘Archbishop’ Aurelia. I discarded my family name upon entering the priesthood.”
“Alright, Archbishop Aurelia. Then, for mutual understanding, let’s watch some visuals.”
I operated the remote for a large TV embedded in the wall and opened a historical textbook from my memory.
“Humanity originally began at the edge of the Milky Way, on Earth—now called 1st Terra.”
The image displayed a beautifully glowing—well, we do appreciate beauty, too—blue planet, the origin of all.
Much human history has been lost due to memory banks and communication lines collapsing in the numerous Solar System Conflicts from the First to the Fourth. It’s said that humanity originally inhabited only the Earth, but with increasing population levels matched by an energy revolution and the invention of the anti-gravity unit, humanity expanded beyond Earth’s domain, around A.D. 2300, making first contact with a non-human higher intelligence.
Subsequently, space exploration skyrocketed, sparking tension between space-bound and Earth-based humans, leading some nation-states to leave the Human Solar System Union to join leagues formed by other intelligent species, accelerating political frictions.
Incidentally, during this era, the old human frame was deemed too fragile, prompting an aggressive mechanization effort. Those rejected formed a secessionist faction that joined the higher consciousness union—us.
Though I didn’t personally participate, apparently, my grandfather was an ace pilot during the Second Earth War, boasting his destruction of seven aerospace machines and involvement in the glacial age-inducing massive-mass bomb deployment.
“And during the Fourth Conflict, Earth was completely lost. Someone used a planetary pulverizer, a bomb that detonates upon reaching the core. Now, what remains around Old Earth is only the space occupied by large quantities of gas debris orbiting the star.”
So many lives and information were irrevocably lost. We recovered what we could, but Earth’s history remains sparse.
“Nevertheless, we share a common descent from this life form.”
The scene shifted to the outer rim of the Virgo Galaxy’s large star system, “Amaterasu 1st,” surrounded by Dyson spheres and ring worlds.
This is our home. A massive artificial construction where mechanized humans and numerical selves parasitize on a suitably sized celestial body. The three concentric rings surrounding the star like a celestial gear are the hubs of mechanized humans and number-based selves.
Twenty more identical constructions exist throughout the galaxy, each housing tens of millions of entities similar to humans, along with various intelligent species that share higher consciousness unions.
“From here, we expanded and continue to expand even now. Two thousand years ago, I was selected as part of the seeding fleet and left my home.”
The footage changed to reveal a grand fleet. There was the current fallen “Tiamat 25” and “Inanna 12,” then still a perfect sphere, within the grand armada encompassing everything from the flagship “Nagato 7” down to the minor vessels arranged in a perfect ellipse formation. The voyage commenced through gravity gates, searching for suitable large rocky planets slightly beyond the habitable zone among the stars’ extremities.
“Upon discovering this planet, we adjusted its orbit, built moons, added water, and gradually transformed it into its current form.”
An epic tale. This is the remarkable culmination of human wisdom.
“However, during the ten-year vacation I took while overseeing the planetary terraforming process, everything changed.”
Subsequently, I presented a fabricated vision filled with chaos, destruction, screams, and possible tragedies, detailing their 2,000-year seclusion in the Exgiel Border Territory and their survival efforts, culminating in current circumstances.
“To be honest, I don’t know what happened while I was asleep. All I wish for you to understand is that I, too, am merely a victim of the events. And likely, so were your ancestors.”
“…Why are you showing me this, sir?”
The Archbishop Aurelia, expressing her confusion, sipped her coffee while I shrugged.
“To clear up misunderstandings and befriend you. I have no intention of ridiculing your sacred texts or condemning your faith as flawed.”
Some have called belief and gods “great misunderstandings,” but I don’t view it that way. Faith is a historical accumulation of belief, a conceptual crystallization of intangible wills or ancestral spirits.
I do not wish them to call me a demon even if I revere the sanctity of their “sacred texts.” That they could survive and thrive for a millennium at the Canopy Holy Capital while fusing antiquity with machinery, resulting in a mystical religion, is impressive. I don’t dismiss it.
“I am merely reiterating that I am not a demon. Will you reconsider engaging in dialogue, Archbishop Aurelia?”
“…Very well. I will withdraw the accusation of heresy, Mr. Matsuyo.”
After reflecting for a moment, her reply brought me some relief, but her following statement did not meet my expectations.
“However, I now understand that you are an entity capable of becoming a demon.”
…Huh? Did I make a mistake somewhere?
Sipping her virtual coffee silently, she returned the empty cup gently, stating that this was sufficient evidence…
