Ch.178The Third Twilight of the Idol – Idol Destroyer (4)

The word that is so obvious to me might be an idol that someone would defend with their life.

Idols come in many forms. Sometimes, what seems completely ordinary to one person can be an idol to another. But in the end, it remains just an idol.

Even without seeking validation from others, that plan was something only a human could devise. The moment they conceived such a plan, they were sufficiently human.

When one cannot define oneself, a person comes to need idols. They desire something magnificent, something great to define their beliefs.

To think they believe they cannot see the world without standing on the shoulders of giants. I decided to let it go with a sigh. Thanks to that, the job ended easily anyway.

Arthur-2 continued to adapt well to the company. Perhaps because he feels three months behind me, he even looks irritated on days when there’s no work.

Day by day, time passes, and the next week that seemed like it would never come approaches. As I was about to leave after finishing work early Wednesday morning, Ms. Mila grabbed my collar.

Her heartbeat is rapid. After making an expression full of excitement, she spreads her arms and legs wide as if showing off something amazing, even making a “ta-da” sound with her mouth.

“I finally finished organizing my house! You’ll come with me in the morning, right? You’ll have to drive for quite a while, but it won’t be that far! I had such a hard time choosing what to show you because there’s so much…”

Ms. Eve, who was preparing to leave nearby, walked over before putting on her helmet. Her flowing dark blue hair approached me, and she leaned against me lightly with a gentle smile. Mischievous words followed.

“It’s not right to steal someone else’s lover for a day, Mila. If you’ve prepared so hard, wouldn’t it be better if we all went together? Everyone’s curious about where you used to live.”

“Ah! I was thinking about that too… but I thought Mr. Arthur would be the least likely person from the company to complain about a messy house. Just Mr. Arthur this time. Please?”

“Arthur… he’d probably grab cleaning supplies before scolding anyone. Alright, I’ll lend him to you for a day. But next time, you have to invite everyone, okay?”

Mila nodded vigorously. She even jumped to hug Eve before letting go. Her exaggerated behavior wasn’t just my imagination.

“Of course! Next time I’ll really bring everyone! Pre-war architecture is pretty, you know. It can be described as neat and beautiful!”

After briefly embracing Mila who had suddenly hugged her, Eve approached me. With a somewhat relaxed smile, now comfortable even in front of me, she grinned.

“I could have used someone a bit more troublesome. You’re so reliable that everyone wants to take you somewhere. Have a good trip, Arthur. Submit a statement when you get back.”

Considering who I might meet at her house, writing a statement would be difficult. That’s why I countered with a joke. A pleasant, trivial remark.

“I’ve already downloaded the Belwether form, so check your email. Ah, I guess I’ll have to postpone visiting the Doctrine then.”

“That’s fine. Telling them you’re living like a human… you just want to do it early, but it doesn’t matter when you do it, right? Here, instead of a statement.”

With a giggle, Eve lifted her chin. I gently held it to adjust the angle, leaned down to briefly press my lips against hers, then pulled away. Eve was trying hard to act composed.

It was just an act. She seemed to want to show off her composure lately, but seeing the redness spreading from the tips of her ears, it was definitely just an act.

I decided to pretend not to notice this time. The silence under implicit agreement often softens the atmosphere. After saying goodbye to Mila as well, I returned to my apartment. I didn’t rest.

I took out the grenade rifle I hadn’t used for a while and cleaned its interior. Although I had already wiped away the marks left by the gyrojet combustion, it was better to make sure.

The heavy spare magazine was impossible to tuck into my chest, so I had to attach it to my waist with a strap. I packed two spare magazines, which should provide sufficient firepower.

I closed my eyes briefly to maintain peak condition. I gathered everything I could: the desert combat uniform I had worn before, the grenade rifle, Small Misdeed, the carbine, and everything else I could pack.

Since I’d have to drive through the wasteland for a long time, this appearance shouldn’t look too out of place. I wrapped wasteland driving chains around the bike’s wheels and packed in everything necessary.

Mila was already waiting at the night office, prepared in her own way. When I pushed the virtual screen toward her, she… pointed to the location of the pre-war military base. It was to the northeast.

“It was originally a base built for urban combat training in the Middle East, but as the main enemy changed, there was less need for training. So by the end of that war, it had become a completely forgotten base.”

I muted Chance preemptively, feeling like I might hear his activation sound. After getting Mila on the bike and checking her helmet, she continued speaking.

“I guess that’s why it became my parents’ home! Because no one was there!”

Her words were puzzling. For now, I accelerated out of the city. We headed toward the highway, whose main clientele were the trailers occasionally used by mega-corporations for logistics transport.

“Oh, don’t go below the third basement floor! It’s a closed area due to a generator accident. You’re very sturdy, Mr. Arthur, but if you went in there, you’d become completely… ugh. Gross.”

Ugh-gross? I didn’t point out her childish word choice. Was there a nuclear fission leak? Imagining the melting, dissolving appearance Mr. Günter had described gave me chills.

“Eve wouldn’t like that, would she?”

“Sister Eve would be super worried! She’d cry! And scold you until you got a new body!”

Mila’s version was probably the truth. After driving as far as the journey to find the Doctrine, only the undulating wasteland remained, and beyond it… the crumbling nationalist military base began to appear.

It was a cold place. Bones abandoned here seemed like they would remain skeletons for hundreds of years without decaying. Feeling an inexplicable gloominess, I approached the military base. Only the remains of infantry drones were strewn about.

And a bit further inside were two units of Chance’s model, almost intact but destroyed. To be precise, they weren’t destroyed. They seemed to have been deactivated after wiping out their artificial intelligence.

I unmuted Chance in my head. Seeing his own model counterparts standing in the middle of this wasteland through my eyes, Chance briefly expressed his respect. I couldn’t say it aloud.

“This drone Chance, dash, zero one three nine pays respect to your dedication. Thank you for your service.”

It was the kind of statement where Chance would have saluted if he had even a small body now. The words Belwether employee-citizens say to their security team were similar to what nationalist citizens said to their military.

I got off at the collapsed fence of the base, lifted and cleared away the debris to avoid the polymer-bladed wire fence. Entering inside again, I saw an unfamiliar city landscape.

All the buildings were stained the same ashen gray as the wasteland due to weathering, but here and there were glimpses of something slightly sandy-colored. They were debris. Only the past existed here now.

Passing through, as we went deeper inside, traces of human habitation finally began to appear. I followed Mila’s gestures as she tried to find the right location.

We stopped in front of one house. After getting off, I naturally took out the grenade rifle, slung it over my shoulder, and headed into the house with Mila. The interior was equally ruined.

“So, the entrance is… this way? Or the study… ah, yes! This way!”

Was she forgetful? I couldn’t be sure. Following Mila, I saw only a study that was old and collapsing, with books crumbled like sand. Mila pulled back the carpet at the deepest part of the study.

“This is where I came from too, really. I’m so forgetful! Come on, let’s go in! I present to you, my home!”

That was a lie. Under the undisturbed carpet, there was almost no dust accumulated. This carpet was being lifted for the first time today.

Opening what looked like a wooden cellar door revealed a metal door behind it. “Justice, Duty, Courage, Honesty, Loyalty.” Five words were inscribed side by side like mottos or values on the steel door.

I moved Mila aside and pulled the door. It was heavy but not too difficult to open. After closing both doors again, we climbed down the ladder that extended below.

It was a high-quality ladder with anti-slip treatment. After descending what felt like a dozen meters, a second door appeared, and when Mila opened it, the illuminated interior finally came into view.

The design was elegantly decorated with white curved surfaces. It made the bunker where Adrian had been held by the Lone Star Rangers look cheap in comparison.

“According to my parents, originally many people were supposed to come in! But something went wrong… and it became our home. That’s how it is! Come on, follow me!”

But there was something that felt off. The corridor was… too wide. It was so wide that I wondered if there was any need to build such an ordinary corridor this wide, even if many people were to enter.

Chance felt the same discomfort. His voice began to sound in my head again.

“Prometheus definitely exists, Agent Arthur Murphy. This corridor is wide enough for two Chance models like myself to pass side by side. It means there are other drones.”

‘I understand, Chance. If possible, I’d like to encounter Prometheus in the corridor. At least then I wouldn’t need to exert effort aiming.’

After saying a few words to reassure Chance, I turned the corner of the corridor where Mila had run ahead. I met her waiting around the corner.

She was excited like a child. She seemed happy that someone had come to her lonely home. Without needing to exert effort aiming, I poked her forehead with my finger.

“I don’t think you invited a friend over to play, Mila. But for all your worrying about it being dirty, it’s quite clean, isn’t it?”

“This place was always clean! If the entrance of a house is dirty, the inside would be a complete garbage dump, right? This is just the entrance!”

I took off my helmet. Fresh, purified air filled my lungs. Someone raised breathing this quality of air would probably find the outside air almost poisonous.

Following her deeper inside, the view of the massive residential area visible through the windows resembled the bunker in Malibu quite a bit. Looking at that scenery, I followed Mila to… the study.

The study was an impressively luxurious space. The glossy carpet floor sank softly under foot, and the high-quality wooden furniture with engravings was a deep whiskey color.

The book collection was the same. Classics that had obviously been read hundreds of times filled the shelves. Ulysses and the Odyssey were quite tattered, but the rest of the books weren’t as worn.

Inside the study, I noticed traces of a bookshelf having been moved, and an unnaturally large space. I tried to imagine what Prometheus might look like.

Mila hugged those two tattered books to her chest, approached me, and showed them to me. Her shining eyes still resembled those of a child who had invited a friend home.

“These are my favorite books! Very, very much so. I wanted to show them to you too, Mr. Arthur. Because you’re a worthy person! Someone my parents would have, definitely, really liked.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard it several times, but what does it mean to be a worthy person?”

“It’s, well… someone who can pioneer the future! Someone who doesn’t get stuck in the past, and even if their hateful, resentful, angry self comes to take their life away, they can still have a conversation—that kind of person.”

This was probably about Arthur-2. People during that war probably didn’t talk to each other earnestly. To Mila, this level of rationality seemed sufficient.

“And also! Someone who doesn’t move forward alone but can advance together with others. A strong person who leads Kanun Sa and offers their embrace for others to lean on willingly!”

“That’s… too much praise. I’ve just gone through a lot of training programs. By the way, can I meet these parents of yours that you talk about so much?”

At my sudden question, Mila slowly tilted her head. I was a bit worried about arousing suspicion, but her response came with an expression that wasn’t as energetic as usual.

“Of course, you can. My parents would really like you, so yes. It might be right to let you meet them. Follow me! We need to take the elevator down.”

After briefly touring the study, we passed through the wide corridor again and boarded an elevator that was excessively large for human use.

The first, second, and third basement floors were normal, but below that was a kind message saying, “You shouldn’t use below this.” It seemed written for Mila.

Does Prometheus regard Mila as a daughter? The elevator slowly descended two floors and stopped at the third basement. The massive door opened slowly. The third floor was not illuminated.

Only red emergency lights were flashing, like the day I first died. If I hadn’t been able to see through the darkness, it would have been quite eerie. Even the corridors of corridors were just wide.

Following Mila, who had killed the lively atmosphere, I headed deeper into the third floor. We approached a door marked “Sleeping Room.” Mila entered another password, and the door opened.

Only a pungent smell wafted from inside the door. It was a smell I had encountered somewhere before. Where was it? While I was trying to recall, Mila began speaking in a gloomy and quiet voice. She turned on the lights.

“These are my parents who would have really liked you, Mr. Arthur. Dr. Vanessa, Dr. Jake, Dr. Dane, and Dr. Paul. Many more are sleeping in the contaminated lower levels, unrecovered.”

What filled that room were urns containing bones and photographs. They were pictures of people, not artificial intelligences.

The parents she had been talking about all along, who knew well about the pre-war era, were human doctors.

Looking at the birth and death dates placed in front of the photos… they were people born so long ago. They were people who had truly experienced life in the pre-war era.

The possibility that such people could have raised Mila Joyce was close to 0, no, it was definitely 0. It was absolutely impossible.

At that moment, a sound that pierced through bone and flesh echoed within the quiet sleeping room.