Ch.8282. Destruction.

82.

Objectively speaking, this city closely resembled the future landscape I had longed for.

An environment where one didn’t have to shiver from the cold, and city functions that operated smoothly.

Beings moving busily on the asphalt roads to fulfill their respective roles, and the bustling sounds they created when gathered together.

But was it because of the difference between robots and humans as species?

Or was it because I noticed the darkness hidden within the seemingly bright cityscape?

Despite arriving in the city I had so desperately wanted, I simply couldn’t adapt to its atmosphere.

It felt uncomfortable to just sit and accept the robot’s kindness as they prepared a festival for me, their last guest.

Yet if I were to take the initiative to solve something myself, I had no idea where to start or what to do.

I turned a deaf ear to the sounds of robots fighting almost daily, passed by injured robots, and headed toward the outskirts of the city.

* *

In one corner of this city, there was a verdant park.

Looking up, a blue sky stretched overhead, and fresh grass and trees swayed in the wind all around.

It was a splendid and beautiful park where, sitting on an intact bench with closed eyes, you could even smell the grass in the blowing breeze.

But as you know, all of this was merely fake. The falling leaves, the ants crawling on the ground—all just imitations of images and their unique textures.

“Sigh…”

Yet despite knowing the truth, perhaps because my sense of touch and other senses perceived all this as a real park landscape…

Sitting on a relatively quiet bench and looking around, I felt my complicated mind calming down a bit.

“It’s quite strange. Beyond that seemingly blue sky, there’s only a dark space with rusty pipes and wires, and this warm sunlight isn’t real but just lighting.”

I laughed at the feeling of my body becoming languid, mistakenly perceiving this as a natural landscape despite clearly knowing it was fake.

What is real and what is fake in the first place? Does that distinction even matter?

The reason I can now assert that this park is fake is because I know the truth about the outside world and the city’s structure.

If I had been born in this city and came to this park knowing nothing, I would have perceived it as ordinary nature.

“…Perhaps the trees and grass I’ve seen were all artificial like this too.”

I hold the roughness of a tree and the softness of soil in my hand. The sensation I feel matches exactly what I’ve always recognized as nature.

I commanded the objects in my hand to return to their original form. Soon, the objects with their distinct textures reverted to their original hard state.

Square objects in my palm.

…But thinking about it, just as I had predetermined that tree surfaces feel a certain way and soil has a particular texture, accepting these as natural…

Even these objects in my hand might simply be forms created by my preconceptions.

“Oh.”

As I thought this, something strange happened.

The objects in my hand began to continuously change their form and material.

The countless changes felt in my hand sometimes seemed like specific objects, and simultaneously like endlessly changing waves.

“At this rate, I’ll never know what the true essence is.”

I returned what I had been holding to its original place.

Returning to its original place, as part of the soil and part of the tree, it regained its natural appearance as if that’s how it should be.

It was still that peaceful time in the lush green park.

“It’s been a while. Have you been well?”

“You didn’t show even a hair of yourself all this time. Where have you been?”

Just then, the large robot that had brought me to this city emerged from between the trees behind the bench.

On the body of the large robot I was seeing after a long time, there was a black mark in the shape of a palm, much larger than my head.

Judging by the shape, it seemed like a mark left by that blunt-speaking robot with the middle-aged manner of speech. What happened during that time?

“I got scolded a bit for bringing Mori here on my own.”

“By that Short Robot? How did that handprint get there? I thought robots couldn’t hit each other?”

“They said ‘there’s damage from going outside’ and dragged me to the repair room, then caressed my stomach with a heated palm.”

…So, direct hitting might be forbidden, but indirect harm is perfectly fine?

Of course, seeing it functioning properly, it seems more like a warning mark than an attempt to harm, but watching robots find loopholes in their own rules wasn’t entirely amusing.

“You know what? I heard the festival is just days away.”

“I know.”

If Lucy gave the impression of having artificially suppressed emotions with a blunt demeanor and speech, this robot had a naturally rigid personality.

Like detectives or thugs often seen in old movies.

It claimed to be a common robot found everywhere, but it must have done some heavy-duty work with that kind of vibe in the past.

“I saw robots preparing for the festival. They looked happy for once.”

“They did, though some still fight occasionally.”

The large robot looked down at me. Due to our size difference, no matter what, the robot would always look down at me, and I would look up at it. Sitting on a low chair made it seem even larger than when I first saw it.

But I wasn’t scared like when we first met. I wouldn’t say there was no pressure from the size difference, but at least I felt it wouldn’t harm me.

Its shiny head and innocent face that didn’t match its size… well, I could even say it looked cute now.

“I wish they’d get along better, since only robots remain in the city.”

“The role assigned to a robot is like a mission, and in that moment, if another being seems to interfere with that mission, it can’t be helped.”

“It can’t be helped?”

“For robots, a role goes beyond simply being a ‘job’ or ‘work’—it’s closer to the value of life, the reason for existence. Whether they can do it properly and on time has a huge impact on each individual.”

“…You make it sound like they’ll die if they don’t do it.”

“That’s correct.”

“…”

Well, I already knew.

Robots with clear, assigned tasks tend to be relatively stable. Those without are covered in wounds.

Robots, who could live nearly eternal lives if they wanted, not repairing the wounds on their bodies resembled what humans call self-harm or suicide.

The only difference from humans is that they aren’t given the freedom to deny their will to live, making the process excruciatingly long.

“So, what do you want to ask of me?”

There was only one thing I was curious about now. Why did this robot bring me here?

What did it want me to do for this city and its robots?

I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from its own mouth.

“I was supposed to tell you about that after the festival.”

“I’m not stupid; I’ve figured out some of it. You want me to do something for the robots in this city, right?”

Robots made to resemble humans unfortunately also realized human deficiencies and suffering.

Robots with unadapted yet unworn brains are destined to live in pain.

If they could break free from their assigned roles and find reasons to live, even such robots could be happy.

But humans cruelly gave robots emotions without granting them free will over their lives.

For beings chained, living solely by inertia, hope and happiness don’t exist.

“Do you want me to stay here until I die?”

The robot had said that since my arrival, the robots had been happy preparing for my festival.

Despite me doing nothing, the mere presence of a human being restored their will to live.

If I just remained in this city, the robots could be happy.

“No.”

“Right. I didn’t think so.”

But unlike robots, human bodies have a definite lifespan.

Moreover, bodies not made of metal easily fall ill and are vulnerable to external impacts, making death a constant possibility.

Things might be fine while I’m alive, but what happens when I die?

The robots would revert to their state before my arrival.

And then, like the robots on the lower floor, they would wander endlessly until their lifespans ended.

That would be the worst outcome for both me and the robots.

“Then what else is there? The best solution would be to make robots truly think and act freely like humans, but I don’t have that ability.”

If robots could become free just by being commanded to do so, there wouldn’t be this worry.

But how could such a simple method eliminate the fundamental principles of robotics that have continued since ancient times for human safety?

“You already know, don’t you?”

“…Yes. I know. I know all too well.”

In the end, there was only one answer.

Creation and destruction belong to humans.

Since past humanity created them…

The only thing left for me, the last remaining human, was destruction.