Ch.8686. Camel and Lion. Child.

In a world where we exist, only time and space can truly be called eternal.

Unlike matter or life that can only exist through causality, time and space exist in this world by themselves and can be perceived a priori—without learning—through the changing patterns of nature and matter.

If all light and matter in the universe were to disappear, those two concepts would also vanish. But by then, all concepts would become meaningless anyway. Even if the universe were born again from that state and new life settled on a new star, time and space would still be perceived with the same characteristics we recognize now, making them uniquely deserving of being called eternal.

And because finite beings can only exist within eternal ones, we cannot intervene in the passage of time and can only watch it go by. We express that helplessness as “time flows.”

Even when I try to grasp it tightly with both hands, the present slips through my fingers like droplets, running down and falling to the ground. I call the water that has fallen to the ground “the past,” and the water that pools there I’ve given the sad names of “memories” and “lingering attachments.”

Yes. Sensing that the festival was approaching, I wished tomorrow would never come. Though the city was bustling now, I could glimpse the familiar silence that would arrive after the festival ended and everyone fell asleep.

Still, I must have grown somewhat as a person, because this time I wasn’t particularly shocked by seeing a robot that wanted to die—I hadn’t expected much. But the mere thought of being alone again was unbearably painful.

Even without deep connections or easy camaraderie, just being together like this was nice… How much longer must I be alone?

As someone who should find themselves by joining forces with countless people, meeting them and conversing with them, I called myself a wanderer, yet I was drifting without settling anywhere in endless solitude. Now even my sense of self seemed to be growing dim.

Of course, there was a solution. Though not a permanent fix but a temporary measure—if I chose not to fulfill the robot’s wish, postponed the goal of living in Paradise, and decided to stay here. During that time, I could alleviate my loneliness.

But as I told the big robot, nobody knows when or how I’ll die. I can’t even be certain that I’ll be able to fulfill the robots’ wishes at my final moment. The countless pipes on the ceiling could collapse and bury me, or a malfunction in the machines in my quarters could threaten my life while I sleep.

If I were to die that way, the robots would have to live in endless boredom and pain until the Ark completely shut down and broke apart. It would be the worst possible ending, with no one receiving salvation.

Though the world has already been destroyed, that doesn’t mean everyone needs to meet an unhappy end. I wished for someone’s happiness, even if not my own, and fortunately, I could fulfill the robots’ happiness. So I had no regrets about my decision and wouldn’t go back on it. That much I could say with certainty.

“Just one more day…”

I begged for just one day, just one more day for myself.

I would fulfill the robot’s wish whenever the time came.

Before I had to go out again into the cold, lonely snowfield, please give me a little more time to enjoy this current stability.

With a desperate wish that I couldn’t and shouldn’t tell anyone, I closed my eyes.

“…It seems noisy.”

And time came for me, without fail. In the form I least wanted.

Inside the room where videos of people played, I couldn’t see the street, but the commotion penetrating through the thick walls and windows made it clear that something was different from usual.

Hoping I was wrong, I moved my fingers to turn off the video and created a window next to where I was lying. When I opened the door, a cool breeze strong enough to blow back my disheveled hair came in, along with the sight of high waves crashing onto sparkling sand.

“Wow.”

What is this? Though I had watched from afar last night, seeing it up close made my previous experience seem insignificant—it was both surprising and fascinating. The sea breeze, the sound of crashing waves. Palm trees and parasols set up everywhere. The city, which had been muted in color until yesterday, now shone blue and yellow. The feeling of being in another world was stronger than ever before.

Even knowing this was the last time, I couldn’t help but exclaim at the alien yet fantastic scenery. Even the unpleasantness of an unwanted morning had vanished.

“I’ll help you get ready.”

Lucy lifted me up while I was absentmindedly admiring everything, knowing it was all some kind of projection or staging on buildings, screens, or reflected on the floor.

Now accustomed to this care, I remained limp like a cat comfortable in its home, regardless of being lifted. Lucy carried me to the bathroom where water had been drawn and placed me in the tub.

“Today, to commemorate the festival, I’ll dress you up specially.”

“…What?”

“Therefore, Mori, please stay still.”

“Wait—blrblrblb!”

It seemed Lucy was also excited about the festival. Though her expression and tone were no different from usual, each of her movements was more enthusiastic than normal.

I was about to say there was no need to dress me up—it didn’t suit me—but seeing Lucy’s enthusiasm, I decided to go with it, thinking that what’s good is good.

“…This feels strange.”

“Wow. Mori, you look so normal!”

“Is that a compliment or what?”

My usually dry, fluffy hair that I always kept tucked inside my clothes now had a glossy shine. My skin, naturally roughened from living in a cold world, now looked vibrant and supple. The most awkward part was the clothes—though not exactly flowy, the colored shirt with jeans created a stark contrast to my usual appearance.

“So this is what I look like.”

I thought I’d gotten used to Mori’s body, but all dressed up like this, I felt unfamiliar from head to toe. As the robot said, I looked like an ordinary adult woman you might see anywhere in a normal city, as if I were watching through a screen.

…Of course, my appearance wasn’t entirely ordinary. Setting aside my features, black hair with blue eyes is a combination that couldn’t occur naturally.

“I wonder if it’s because my original eyes were blue.”

The saying that eyes are the window to the soul suddenly came to mind. I don’t know if souls truly exist, but thinking that some part of my past self remained here, even in this form, made me feel somewhat good. How many times had I smiled while looking in a mirror until now? Except when treating injuries, I’d never seriously faced a mirror like this, so this might be the first time.

“Are you satisfied?”

“Yes.”

Though only my clothes had changed, I felt different from usual, perhaps because I was stepping outside my daily routine. I wondered if it was okay to feel this excited before such an important task.

“Just for today, let’s enjoy ourselves without worry!”

The robot spoke to me as I wore a complicated expression. Despite understanding what was about to happen, the robot could maintain such a light attitude—perhaps because what I considered a heavy burden was simply a matter of course to the robot.

When something terribly heavy to me is nothing special to the person directly involved, is it right to listen to them, or should I decide according to what society generally values?

My mind was complicated. Even though there was no one to tell me my choice was wrong, I still worried because I was an ordinary person—someone who valued universal values and morals over self-proclaimed standards or beliefs.

“Alright.”

…But isn’t pursuing ordinariness in such a world and situation itself extraordinary?

After deep contemplation, I decided to establish a firm standard and stick to it. Right now, yes, I promised to fulfill what the poor robot wanted. I’ll put everything else aside and focus only on that.

I patted my cheeks a couple of times and pulled up the corners of my mouth. If I looked gloomy at this joyful festival the robot had prepared for me, the robot wouldn’t be happy either.

Determined to enjoy this one-time event to the fullest, I stepped outside.

Blue sky and floating clouds. The refreshing sound of waves and the feeling of crunching sand. The city’s low buildings and shops had transformed into structures that would fit right in at a beach.

I’d said that adapting quickly was my strength, but with changes this dramatic, it wasn’t easy to adjust. Despite walking down streets I’d been traversing just yesterday, the unfamiliarity made me excited. How many more experiences like this could I have before I died?

“What’s this? What are they selling here?”

When I left home, Lucy and the robot had departed as if by prior arrangement, saying they had things to do. Whether they went to enjoy the festival on their own or truly had busy matters to attend to, I didn’t know, but as a result, I was wandering the unfamiliar streets alone.

“Fish skewers! I can guarantee the taste, so take one!”

A stall had appeared where nothing had been before. On a small wooden shelf under a parasol were fish-shaped meat… skewered on sticks.

Accepting the skewer from the robot, I wondered whether to call it fish or meat, since it was meat shaped like fish.

“Mmm.”

Taking a bite of the steaming skewer, I tasted something quite familiar. It tasted like well-grilled meat from animals raised in facilities.

I chuckled at the sudden familiarity amid the awkward scenery and looked around.

“Selling never-used hexagonal wrenches!”

“Hmm… I needed one, could I have one?”

“Anyone want to buy stone-carved objets d’art?”

“Hey, that’s not stone, it’s made of copper!”

“That’s precisely what makes it a true objet d’art!”

Numerous stalls and many robots wearing straw hats wandering around, chattering loudly. I couldn’t help but laugh at the robots mimicking the culture of the humans who once lived here. I loved the bustling, chaotic atmosphere.

Still, their jobs hadn’t changed much—cleaning robots still roamed the beach clearing away trash, and robots that managed climate control systems remained stuck to spiral structures. Nevertheless, they all seemed to be in good spirits for the long-awaited festival.

After that, I continued exploring the streets, examining strange items I’d never seen before. I got soaking wet watching robots playing in artificial waves, tried lying in hammocks strung between buildings, and before I knew it, evening had arrived.

“Hello, child.”

While I was collapsing into a chair to rest, putting a complex-looking cookie—supposedly shaped like a computation circuit—into my mouth, a familiar voice came from behind me.

Though I’d heard the voice for just one day, less than an hour—the distinctive tone and manner of speaking made it immediately recognizable.

“That’s quite a bold outfit.”

“Hoho. I suppose working in that kind of shop makes one more open-minded.”

The long-legged robot wearing clothes so revealing that I could barely look directly at them—thankful they were a machine and not human—sat down naturally beside me.

“So, did you have fun today?”

A question where it wasn’t clear who was asking whom. Therefore, the answer came simultaneously. The human and robot, expressing their enjoyment through movement rather than sound, looked up at the setting sky together, neither going first.

“The freedom I so longed for was indeed sweet. But—there’s not much time left.”

The time given to us is precious precisely because it is finite. Even more so if that time is filled with happiness.

When the festival ends, they must live in the boredom they’ve experienced until now until the next festival comes. Ruminating on the memory of that brief happiness hundreds, thousands of times.

It’s no different from a curse, yet the robot’s face, facing that curse, looked extremely happy.

Of course, that’s because they know their time will stop before the festival ends.

“All my life I thought being made this way was unfortunate, but to be able to fall into eternal happiness without feeling any pain or fear… I suppose that’s only possible for a machine?”

“I suppose so.”

“Born as a camel—knowing I was a camel but unable to escape, only to finally fall asleep at a child’s hand. Yet I don’t dislike it, which is strange.”

“…Well, I think I’m closer to a lion than a child.”

Just then, a bang sounded as fireworks exploded in the sky. The colorful fireworks announced the end of the festival and the beginning of eternity.

“Those exploding things, they’re not robots, right?”

“They are.”

“…Really?”

“I’m joking. Of course not.”

In the twilight hour where vermilion and navy blue mixed. The perfect now, where day and night, yesterday and tomorrow intermingled. While everyone laughed and chatted about how fun it had been under the brilliantly exploding fireworks.

“…I should go now.”

“Yes, stay healthy and don’t get sick.”

“I will.”

I stood up from the chair. I had postponed it again and again, but now there was no time left.

Unlike me, the robot remained seated as we exchanged brief goodbyes, and I began to walk.

In this city where few places remained unknown to me, I headed toward the only place my feet had never touched.

The place I had wanted to postpone visiting until the very end.