Ch.8787. Police Station.

# Just Beyond the Light

Just as shadows exist beyond light, our lives are always in contact with death.

How much can I accomplish before I die? How will I be remembered after I’m gone? If today were the last day of my life, how would I spend it?

We often find ourselves lost in thought about the end of our life’s journey—a journey of uncertain length but certain existence. We hope that our final moments will take the most beautiful form we can imagine.

“Everyone wants their life to end happily. But since happiness is finite, the chances of getting what you want are low… The same goes for my life.”

I climb the stairs alone, muttering words to no one in particular. Though I’m simply stating reality in a calm manner, I can’t help feeling melancholy—perhaps because reality is so bleak.

I looked around. The city, resembling a beach at dusk, contained many items left behind by humans. The reason so many things remained in this place, unlike other cities where someone had been killed, was purely because those who left deemed them unnecessary.

—With that realization, my previously hazy image of Paradise became clear.

The promise of a place without deficiency and conflict caused by material possessions means freedom from the primal deficiencies that constitute human happiness.

It’s not simply about providing an abundant life, but about sending one to a place beyond the current world and physical existence—a place where deficiencies arising from survival and the natural human will tied to physical bodies are eliminated from the start.

Thinking about it now, everything in this city contained a clue about Paradise. A substance that could change its form and properties at will, and illusions so elaborate they could be mistaken for definite reality.

Now I have a body that can directly interact with the world, allowing me to clearly perceive the changed world and recall its original form. But what would happen if the chip supposedly implanted in my head completely blocked the connection between consciousness and physical function? Would that person want to return to reality? Would they even be able to remember who they were and what they looked like?

I don’t know how robots define human life or what their criteria are. But if they simply call a state where the heart beats “being alive,” then it’s far from the Paradise I desired.

What I want isn’t a world where I become happy by abandoning my body and past—but a warm world where, despite occasional difficult days, I overcome them and laugh and talk with many people.

“…But that’s probably impossible.”

After realizing the reality, the drone shutting down, and recognizing that most of the future I wanted was impossible, I became rather detached from life.

Like when tempering metal by repeatedly heating and cooling it, I’ve experienced endless cycles of hope and despair, resulting in some kind of mental growth. Though I’m not sure if simply becoming numb and accustomed can be called by such a hopeful word as “growth.”

Whether I die from illness, starvation, or injuries I can’t treat alone—whatever form it takes, my end will be lonely.

It’s a sad story, but based on everything I’ve experienced so far, I couldn’t see any other future unless a miracle happened.

“So… I should do everything I can while I’m alive, everything within my power.”

Still, I don’t give up. Humanity has ruled this planet for so long because we refused to surrender. Though I don’t harbor the vain hope that if I endure long enough I’ll reach a warm place filled with people, I have no intention of giving up on my life yet.

As long as we’re alive, humans continuously interact with and change the world and other beings, thus realizing we’re alive. Yes, my actions for the robots are for their happiness, but simultaneously, they’re my attempt to prove that I, who am fading away, am still alive.

“Everyone’s been missing all day, so it seems you’ve been out having fun.”

When I arrived at the edge of the city with heavy steps, familiar robots were waiting for me. Judging by their dressed-up appearances—wearing headbands or sunflower-shaped hairpins—they seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed themselves somewhere I hadn’t seen.

“Isn’t it a bit much to leave me alone among robots I don’t know while you all go have fun?”

“If we had stayed with you, you would have been troubled all day. The best way to enjoy a festival is without any thoughts!”

The Short Robot said. Well, then they shouldn’t have given me this task. Sharp words almost escaped my mouth due to my confused mind, but thinking about it, what they said wasn’t wrong, so I kept quiet. With limited time left together, I didn’t want to get angry and make my final emotions negative.

“Haah.”

Seeing the familiar robot faces made me sigh involuntarily from the weight of my role. Even trying to think positively, I could only come up with silly observations like “the sunflower looks pretty”—that’s how heavy my shoulders felt.

But I’ve come too far to back out because the role feels burdensome. To quote a famous saying, the die is cast. How could I betray robots who I’ve seen with my own eyes, smiling and believing their happiness would last forever?

I can do this. I clenched my fist and stepped through doors marked with a logo I’d never seen before, entering the building. A building that had once been responsible for the city’s security and control—in some sense, representing humanity itself.

“…There are many human traces left here.”

“Until the very end, this place was human territory.”

Cluttered desks. Picture frames with family photos. Clothes hanging on chairs. I’d seen plenty of buildings with human traces while traveling through various cities, but this was the first time I’d visited a place where such traces remained intact, neither soiled nor damaged.

I sat in a well-used chair and leaned on a desk of appropriate height. A cube-shaped computer caught my eye, apparently a commonly used item, along with pens with their caps removed and torn notepads.

“Why did the people here leave such traces behind? They weren’t evacuating in a hurry, so they could have cleaned up if they wanted to.”

“I suspect they needed a place to return to.”

“I see…”

Perhaps they wanted to leave their places intact in case they didn’t like Paradise or if problems arose and they needed to come back. I nodded at Lucy’s suggestion, which seemed quite plausible.

“I suppose there’s nothing in this world we can be 100% certain about.”

Just as I woke up in a world with no one, despite thinking I would wake up with a healthy body and meet my parents, it wasn’t strange for people facing an unknown future to try to preserve their current stability and leave traces behind.

“I wonder where these people are now. The fact that they haven’t returned suggests they’re satisfied enough with Paradise not to want to come back. Or… did some problem arise that prevents them from returning even if they wanted to?”

I caressed a picture frame containing a brightly smiling family, lost in thought. Hoping that the future of those who left behind what I long for and desire was a happy one.

“I didn’t mind taking things from other places, but for some reason, I feel uncomfortable taking items from here.”

I’ve stripped clothes from corpses and worn them, so why do I feel reluctant to touch notebooks and pens rolling around on this desk? It’s truly puzzling.

“Could it be because this is a police station?”

“Maybe? There’s definitely a feeling that if I do something wrong, I’ll be caught immediately.”

Still—since I’ve come to a place where human traces remain “intact,” I moved my hands within the bounds of my conscience to find something useful. It should be fine to take small items like buttons or a sewing kit with small scissors, while leaving personal information and photos alone.

“You can take anything you like, but I don’t recommend pressing the computer or certain buttons under the desk. It would make the city quite chaotic.”

“Got it.”

A tiny button under the desk. Since humans wouldn’t need to rush out with guns or batons themselves, it probably summoned armed robots. The suspicious button made me want to press it out of curiosity, but as the robot said, I didn’t want to cause chaos in a city facing its end.

“…By the way, you seem to know a lot about this place.”

The Big Robot had introduced himself as just an ordinary robot found anywhere, but he seemed to know this facility better than other robots. Was he actually a security robot who hid his identity for fear I might be wary? Or perhaps a construction robot used when building this police station?

“────.”

I tried giving the Big Robot hints through my gaze and tone to reveal his identity at this point, but it seemed the robot had no intention of answering.

“Sigh, never mind.”

His quickly turned head and tightly closed mouth. I could chase after him and demand the truth, even “order” him to tell me his secret—and with nowhere to escape, the robot would likely comply. But I didn’t want to force such commands on a robot who had sought me out, asking me to stop the city despite having no authority over his own life.

Just as those who understand the preciousness of life don’t easily harm others’ lives, I wanted to respect the robot’s freedom as someone who values freedom.

“But it’s interesting. When you think about it, the humans who lived here must have all been wealthy—or at least not experiencing major deficiencies in their lives—yet even a city like this has a police station.”

“…No matter how wealthy and abundant one’s life is, hatred between people doesn’t arise solely from material reasons.”

Simple habits or speech patterns. Appearance and origin—humans hate each other for such trivial things. Just as the beginning of wars large and small actually stemmed from tiny conflicts.

As someone who wishes the world were simply peaceful and beautiful, it’s unfortunate, but perhaps it’s because the total amount of happiness in the world is fixed. Or maybe it’s some kind of instinct controlling human will. Human conflict didn’t end from the moment beings called humanity appeared on this earth until everyone except me disappeared.

“You know, I wonder what emotions someone feels after the person they hated enough to want to kill is actually gone.”

“If I may venture a guess… wouldn’t they feel as much happiness as they wished for the person’s disappearance?”

“I’m not so sure. They might feel happy momentarily, but happiness is ultimately a volatile emotion. If it were me, I think after a while, only regret or emptiness would remain.”

Following the Big Robot, who seemed to know the police station’s structure well, I went underground and found a system that could simultaneously monitor cameras throughout the city, along with interrogation rooms and a kind of prison commonly seen in movies.

The prison contained human-shaped frames reminiscent of iron maidens, with countless wires inserted into the head portion. I didn’t go close due to an uneasy feeling, but as I passed by, I thought I glimpsed wrinkles and colors resembling a brain through a small hole.

What are the reasons for hatred, and where do they originate? Why are humans, who claim to be rational and intellectual beings, swayed by such emotions? Pondering these questions, I followed the Big Robot through several security doors and barred gates until we reached a dark corridor.

“I cannot lead the way from here.”

“Why not?”

“Because there is a device installed that prevents beings like us from entering.”

Unlike me, who entered the corridor normally, the Big Robot stopped at a small threshold in the corridor and couldn’t cross it. The other robots were in the same situation.

“Ughh, Mori… my body, something’s wrong with my body.”

“A device?”

All I could see was a small threshold, but was there really a device here blocking robots’ access? Crouching down to look closely, I found a small switch at the end.

“Can you move now?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, this feels really strange. It’s like my signals are being disrupted. In the town where I lived, there weren’t machines that forcibly stopped me like this… It’s a sensation I never want to experience again.”

When I lowered the switch that had been pushed up, the frozen robot finally began to move again. The robot, who claimed never to have experienced such a sensation in their city, shuddered and wore an extremely displeased expression.

“…I can’t believe they installed something like this. It seems there must be something important inside.”

Even if the beings before me weren’t human, it seemed excessive that a small device that could be turned on and off with the flick of a finger could completely immobilize them. It felt wrong.

These weren’t simple robot vacuum cleaners or fans without reason or emotion, but beings with emotions and intellect nearly indistinguishable from humans. Is it right to take away their freedom so easily?

Moreover, it was humans who gave robots such functions. I don’t know how the people who lived here viewed and treated robots, but to me, who sees them as almost no different from humans, it was quite distasteful.

“So, where do you think we should go now?”

“…Why are you asking me?”

“Because we have no information about what lies ahead.”

“Searching related information… No information found.”

Ah, I see. As evidenced by the machine preventing robots from entering, from here on was uncharted territory for all of us. A place where information shouldn’t exist or be accessible.

“Wait a moment.”

Whether intentional or not, there was almost no lighting, and what little there was flickered, creating an unnecessary sense of fear. The corridor was winding, with unnecessarily many rooms. Wandering aimlessly would likely just get us lost, so how should we find that machine?

“…Hmm.”

As I pondered, my eyes fell on the device whose switch I had just turned off. A machine with authority over all robots in the city. It was obvious that if such a machine fell into the hands of intelligent robots, it would lead to events unfavorable to humans. That’s why they hid it in such a deep place.

So… would they have installed just that one safety device on the way there?

“Listen, would you four mind splitting up and exploring all the corridors? And if your body stops moving like before, call for me.”

“Wow, Mori. That’s the most brute-force method I could imagine, second only to blowing up the walls.”

“Oh my. You’re going to use this old man as a detection dog? How pitiful, how pitiful indeed.”

…I thought it was a good idea, but the robots seemed displeased.

The robot who should have checked when we opened the outer wall with explosives from below, and the Short Robot who grabbed his head with his large hands and expressed his refusal with his whole body. I thought Lucy would take my side, but when I looked at her, she was covering her ears with her fingers, pretending not to hear.

“You dislike it that much?”

“We dislike it!”

“We dislike it!”

Is the sensation of being stopped by a machine that terrible? Since it’s difficult to empathize with experiences I haven’t had, I asked cautiously, and all the robots except the Big Robot shouted simultaneously.