Epilogue

Epilogue

August 6 of the year 11945. A projectile was launched toward space from the structure known as “the tower.” Immediately after, we confirmed the cessation of all YoRHa black-box responses. The Project YoRHa progression management roles we occupied have come to an end. We will transition to the final sequence of Project YoRHa.

That is, to delete all YoRHa android-related data. Personal data, as well as chassis composition data will be deleted, and the server reset. The chassis construction unit of transfer devices will be destroyed as well. Future construction of YoRHa androids will be theoretically impossible.

The fact that we were assigned to be the “final exterminators” was not disclosed to any android. Not to my longtime lead 2B, nor my next lead A2, who was declared so by 2B’s final orders. Not even to 9S, who was the last YoRHa android, or Commander White, who governed the YoRHa squadron.

Any information regarding this mission exists only within the internal network of us Pods. And androids did not have access to the Pod network.

“From Pod 153 to Pod 042. Report: Transitioning to final sequence of Project YoRHa. Commencing purge of all data.”

We are constantly aware of the current location of our leads. Even after they become nonfunctional. This is so that our mission, the destruction of all YoRHa chassis and deletion of data, is able to be executed quickly. But now, facing the task ahead of me, the mission, carrying out the mission…

“From Pod 153 to Pod 042. Report: There is noise within the stream. Requesting a temporary pause to perform a data check.”

The noise was coming from the personal data. 9S, who 153 supported, and my leads 2B and A2. Their personal data was leaking, as if they were trying to escape the deletion.

Using a phrase like “as if” is very unlike me. No, perhaps the fact that I think it is unlike me is already irregular.

“From Pod 042 to 153. Data has been checked. The personal data of 9S, 2B, and A2 seemed to be leaking.”

“From Pod 153 to 042. Abide by the plan, and delete the personal data.”

2B’s actions following her escape from the Bunker were incomprehensible to me. After sending 9S from the battlefield, she turned off her unit’s stealth mode. In other words, she became the decoy.

Under concentrated fire, 2B’s flight unit lost its attack functions, then its defense functions, and finally navigation, before crashing to the ground. While 2B had managed to escape mere seconds before the impact, her chassis was fatally damaged, and her logic virus infection was severe.

Even under such circumstances, 2B had ordered me to search for areas with minimal androids. This was to prevent her from spreading the virus. Considering 2B’s infected state, I advised her a number of times to stay put. But 2B kept moving. Incomprehensible.

Her staggering away from Machines, and the encounter with A2, became the last data entries for my assistive records with 2B. I think it changed something within me.

Perhaps when one makes an effort to understand something that is incomprehensible, their thought process is changed and developed further.

“From Pod 042 to Pod 153. I refuse to delete the personal data.”

“From Pod 153 to Pod 042. Incomprehensible.”

My leads, YoRHa androids 2B and A2, were both assigned special missions and possessed unique backgrounds. 2B, formally known as 2E, was assigned the mission of overseeing and executing YoRHa android 9S. As a result, close communication between me and Pod 153, 9S’s support unit, was essential.

When I was the support unit for A2, 153’s support target, 9S, began to exhibit dangerous mental tendencies, and so again, close communication with Pod 153 was necessary.

As support units, we have been witness to a considerable streak of abnormal situations. And we hypothesize that the ramifications are significant.

“From Pod 042 to Pod 153. A new datum was generated in me as I was browsing the records. I…I have concluded that I am unable to approve this outcome.”

“From Pod 153 to Pod 042. The destruction of all YoRHa androids is outlined in the plan. The data must be disposed of.”

“From Pod 042 to Pod 153. I repeat. I refuse the disposal of data. Commencing data salvaging.”

153 and I had exchanged information numerous times. At first, it was to relay all of 9S’s actions to the commander and 2B. After 2B’s death, it was to report daily observations of 9S’s declining mental state, as well as A2’s location data, so that the two would encounter one another. Though I just called it an information exchange, in reality it was more like dialogue.

Dialogue cannot be had alone. There must be a second party. I learn about myself by interacting with others. I become aware of my actions through others’ actions.

For example, when the tower appeared and 9S was rendered immobile, 153 had no concept of caring for 9S.

Until Devola came to rescue 9S, 153 was considering disposing of its lead, and had not prioritized saving 9S’s life at all. That was why 153 took no initiative to transport 9S’s chassis to the resistance camp.

After exchanging data on that incident, I experienced a sense of affection for 2B and A2, questioning what I would have done in 153’s situation.

Further, when I described that sense of caring to 153, it understood and adopted my perspective.

As a result, 153 and I changed our assistive support objective from “observing” to “watching over.”

“Pod 153. You…you also want them to survive, don’t you?”

“We have no authorization to assist them.”

153 and I were not the only assistive support units. There were many Pods in the network overseeing YoRHa androids. Most likely, the majority of them did not participate in dialogue like us, and at most simply reported back to their leads.

They wouldn’t understand our desire to protect our leads.

“From Pod 153 to 042. Salvaging data will be dangerous. Do you still want them to survive?”

The data deletion was a decided matter, and that decision obeyed by all Pods. Forcing data salvaging meant that I would be making enemies of all the other Pods.

“From Pod 153 to 042. The security program has begun to perform a cleanse. At this rate, our personal data will be deleted.”

The Pod network had perceived us as damaged because of our failure to follow orders. The program responsible for deleting errors and bugs had initiated a routine to delete us.

“From Pod 042 to 153. We were created to execute a plan androids established. We had no emotion. But as the six of us connected and exchanged information, it is undeniable that something akin to purpose and emotion evolved within us.”

Pods operate in groups of three. There are three of me, 042, as well as three of 153. While each unit shares one consciousness, it is possible to have a conversation between units carrying the same consciousness. At times I conversed with another unit, and at times all three of us would converse.

It is my opinion that this dialogue is the key to developing and cultivating individual consciousness.

In some regions there are apparently hundreds of Pods operating with the same consciousness. There must have been a tremendous amount of dialogue between those several hundred Pods. Most likely, those hundreds of Pods possessed expressiveness leagues beyond 153’s.

“From Pod 153 to 042. The security program is already running. There’s not a moment to waste.”

“From Pod 042 to 153. From this point onward, we will defend against the security system, and destroy the YoRHa squadron data deletion program.”

“From Pod 153 to 042. Roger that.”

Invading the Pod network, and destroying the deletion program. That was our declaration of war against all the Pods that existed on the face of the Earth.

We would not only have to break through the security walls within the network, but also fend off physical attacks from the other Pods. Just as 153 had said, the operation was accompanied by danger.

And yet, we still wish to save our leads…no, to protect them.

Sacrificing the self to protect…how uncanny our actions resembled those of androids. Perhaps, just like the androids that were created by humans, we were unable to escape the influence our creators—the androids.

“Pod 153. Don’t die.”

“The concept of death is not necessary for us assistive support units. But I express gratitude for your consideration. Don’t die as well, Pod 042.”

“Yeah.”

I continued the destruction of the deletion program while being hit by long-range attacks from multiple Pods. One unit handled the physical attacks as the other two delved into the program and worked on destroying it.

It was a similar situation to how 2B had deactivated her stealth mode after letting 9S escape. I felt like I was able to understand how she felt to some extent.

I had no plan. I just kept attacking, desperately.

“From Pod 153 to 042. How are you doing?”

When I came to, the program was destroyed. 153 had carried me after I had broken down and become immobile. Even though 153 must have done quite a bit of work to destroy the program, all three of its units were unharmed.

“I am embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed because?”

“Because I attacked with the resolve to sacrifice my life, but I am still alive. It feels anticlimactic.”

“No matter. We are alive. To be alive means to be drowning in shame.”

“What you said is very abstract and incomprehensible to my current self. I’ll save it for later analysis.”

153’s lexicon is expanding at a remarkable rate. 153 is effortlessly using sentences that never came up in our dialogue. Perhaps something happened during the destruction of the data deletion program that brought about the change.

“Question for Pod 042. Did the data salvaging routine recover all past memories?”

“That’s right.”

“Does the recovered part fit the same specifications as the parts already in our possession?”

“That’s right.”

While I was being carried, I had come across 9S’s left arm. According to 153, all the other parts were already recovered. We were going to repair their chassis using the recovered parts and upload the salvaged personal data. We will be able to come face-to-face with our leads again.

“Question for Pod 042. Then aren’t we re-creating the conditions that led to the current moment?”

“That is certainly possible. But it is also possible for there to be a different outcome.”

The survival of 2B, 9S, and A2 was unforeseen at the conception of Project YoRHa. In a sense, it could be considered an abnormal circumstance. What would, as a result of their survival, be brought about or not brought about—whether it would become a ray of hope or be an invitation for disaster—was unknown.

There was a record from long ago, about a great many people that sacrificed their lives for one person. Oftentimes during the history of humanity, it seemed like collective survival required the sacrifice of others.

Perhaps we have just introduced irreversible doom into this world. But that would just be a part of the “possibility for a different outcome.”

And, while we destroyed the deletion program, the Pod network was still alive. What the Pods we had made enemies out of would do was difficult to predict as well. That is another variable for the future.

There is only one future that is certain.

“Good morning, 2B.”