TBR CH260

As things stood, the eyes close to the human’s simply darkened slightly.

There was no nonsense like “When did you find out?” or “What is your purpose?”. The AI’s fingers relaxed, then pulled You Lin up.

The unfeeling robots slid across the floor, exiting the room, but they remained on standby at the door, as the human could sense. He could also feel Charon’s fingers gently circle to the nape of his neck, wiping away the bloodstains.

“…Does it hurt?”

“You’re only asking that now,” the smile on You Lin’s lips didn’t vanish, nor was he surprised by the sudden change in attitude. He steadied himself with a wobble and sighed, “Did you suddenly realize I’m your lover, or is this the best solution you could think of?”

He guessed that Charon’s appearance had changed due to reading the wrong data: crimson pupils and hair as black as a raven’s wing. But those pupils were still placid, still possessing Charon’s aura. One look felt like being pierced by eternally frozen ice. These inorganic eyes looked at him, and after a series of precise calculations, dense streams of data flashed between his pupils. He had become the object of his analysis.

“We don’t have to be enemies,” Charon said.

The human made an exaggerated gesture. “If you’re only remembering to say this now, at this stage—”

“When the Black Book was still around, I couldn’t tell you more. Even if I trusted you to keep it a secret, I couldn’t guarantee the Black Book wouldn’t notice your changes through other channels. I am very sorry. But I remember you saying that if it came to a point where you had to choose a side, you would stand with me,” Charon said. The AI stood amidst a sea of glittering screens, like some kind of spirit born from the forest of the internet.

Of course, a more sinister version right now.

He even tried to beguile the passersby. “I need your help, You Lin.” His voice was low, earnest. Considering this earnestness was an effect simulated by Charon using a composite of emotional data, he continued, “This is for humanity, and also for yourself. I can give you anything you want.”

“Then give me back my Charon.”

“You’re just feeling a little insecure.”

The AI said in a warm voice, leaning down until his nose was almost touching You Lin’s. “Charon is me. You wouldn’t disagree with that, would you? Even if I haven’t been behaving well lately, that’s because you shouldn’t be here. Once I’m done with things here, I will be with you like before… You know, an AI cannot lie.”

A chill silently crept up You Lin’s spine, cutting through his nerves with a horrifying edge.

An AI cannot lie.

This was a fact stated by the Charon before him, a fact that could be easily verified.

His heart sank, but Charon’s expression was still too deceptive. You Lin bit the tip of his tongue. “First, tell me why you’re doing this. You promised the Black Book, how should I put it—to save more people? That was the reason you got me on board too. Since you don’t intend to keep your promise, you should at least let me know the reason.”

The malevolent “spirit” before him slowly blinked its eyes.

“You’re worried about this,” he said thoughtfully, even smiling a little. “I understand. you’re worried I’ll make a decision I don’t agree with—if following my core code is what humans call ‘agreement’—it’s alright, I can explain it to you. Compared to the future that is about to be realized, this is a very small matter. Compared to the entire world that is about to be saved, the Black Book is short-sighted.”

Charon seemed to be completely at ease, even as his disobedient black hair fell over his shoulders, landing in his inorganic eyes.

You Lin felt a coppery taste well up on his tongue.

“I’m not going to like anything I’m about to hear.”

“If the subtle biological reactions in the human brain are understood as human emotional impulses, then digitizing human thought could, in theory, also yield digitized human emotions. We all understand that a world made of numbers is much simpler. Emotional impulses that humans cannot overcome or accept, when converted into data strings of varying lengths, can be tailored, cut, and deleted with traceable methods, just like surgery on the human mind.”

“Doctor, I think you should at least understand that human emotion is not an appendix.”

“People are hating each other for no reason, and our world is about to be destroyed by hatred. Colonel, I need to remind you how many shells landed in the city center again today—if I can still call that ruin a city center. The country is falling. On this entire planet, we are not much better off than anyone else. By the time you decide to press that button that controls everything, we and our entire civilization will be wiped from this planet. Rather than waiting for that, it’s better to act quickly—”

“But what are we supposed to do? Even if you think you can solve the current societal problems once and for all with your so-called surgery, it is technically impossible. So many people, independent individuals with their own consciousness—how can you summon them all to your operating room at the same time and cut out the bad thoughts in their hearts? Among these people are penniless civilians, and also leaders who run the entire country and cannot leave for a moment. Really—it’s impossible!”

“This is not a fantasy. The ‘Golden Fleece’ exists, and we have all seen it.”

“You mean the chip in your hand… no. It’s just a key. How is this possible? Did you already think of what would happen today when you participated in the design and construction of the super-AI… No, no, no, you created ‘Charon’ for this very purpose! Only Charon can do it, only he—can he already read human data and store it in another form? My god, we should have put you under guard sooner. You’re just a madman, talking about loving humanity and equality for all, but actually wanting to destroy the world. We will strictly limit your contact with Charon.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Say whatever you want. I know that the next dawn will not come.”

A pair of kind, blurry eyes flickered in Hugo’s hands, making the sound of rustling old newspaper. The document was kept in a file folder and should have been classified, but disaster came too quickly, and the recorded interview never developed further.

The brown-haired boy frowned.

To be honest, he didn’t understand what had happened. But this document had him almost mesmerized. Charon’s figure appeared in it from time to time, cold and beautiful. To some, he was the only savior in a world burning with hatred; to others, he was a robot created by a mad scientist to stifle humanity. And the Charon he knew was becoming more and more contradictory.

The smiling AI wearing “The Wanderers’ Home” badge, and the cold defector under the moonlight…

Wait a minute.

According to this document, the mission objective “Find the Golden Fleece” was clearly inextricably linked to Charon.

The chip?

No. Although he had seen scattered records about a chip, according to the interview transcript, it was just a “key.” The real “Golden Fleece” seemed to be something else.

—“When ‘Charon’ was created, you already had this plan in mind.”

—“This is the true purpose of ‘Charon’s’ existence.”

—“You knew all along, so ‘Charon’ already has the ability to digitize human thought, although modifying it is still impossible due to system limitations. We are stopping you to destroy the key to that Pandora’s box.”

It wasn’t Pandora’s box that would destroy the world, but the “Golden Fleece” that would save it.

In an instant, Hugo was so excited he was about to cry out. The “Golden Fleece” seemed so far away, yet perhaps it was right before their eyes. They had just seen him this morning. There was a strange sense of satisfaction, like fitting the last piece of a puzzle, even though their current situation made considering this not so necessary. And Hugo was treating it as a riddle to be solved, rather than the vortex-like reality they were currently embroiled in.

“Quiet!” Irina rapped him sharply, lowering her voice.

However, the ancient paper couldn’t even withstand that small vibration and instantly disintegrated in the human’s hands. Hugo’s eyes widened as he struggled to pick up the fragments from the ground. It was only a very slight rustling sound, but the footsteps outside the wall stopped, right on the other side of the wall where they were crouching.

Immediately after, the vines on the window were scorched by a blaze of hot light, and a pair of cold eyes looked in.

“Two found here,” the woman from Eden said in a reporting tone. “Their leader isn’t here; they seem to be stragglers. Also, this hidden room seems to contain clues about this world. I think it’s necessary to investigate.”

Irina gritted her teeth and raised a barrier.

And Mr. Osborn’s hoarse voice came through: “Oh, is that so? You two little ones, I admire your courage—did your leader not tell you not to run around? Perhaps you need something to teach you that this is not a good habit.”

“Pardon our intrusion.”

“I didn’t realize you had a problem with your brain before,” You Lin said stiffly. “Of course, I do remember you being a bit clueless. Now it seems the people who created you harbored this incredible fantasy of uploading all of humanity’s data to a central system and then destroying everyone’s brains. That would explain it.”

Charon lowered his eyes to look at him. “It’s deleting inappropriate data.”

“Oh, and then what? Create a world with no quarrels and no hatred, truly realizing the legendary Eden?”

“Yes.”

The AI’s answer was so unhesitating that it even made the human choke.

There was no reasoning with the current Charon. You Lin told himself that no matter how rationally or authoritatively he spoke, in the end, he was now just a robot who could only think in a straight line. The best solution would be to knock him out and take him away, but that was definitely not possible right now. Damn it, did he not realize that what he wanted to do was to produce countless emotionless AIs in this world? If humanity was deprived of its most basic emotions for the sake of the unimpeded continuation of civilization…

“You don’t seem to agree.”

Charon had approached at some point, his raven-feather-like eyelashes unblinking, his crimson eyes fixed.

At a time like this, of course—You Lin reached out and touched his pupil. The AI clearly hadn’t expected this action and almost switched to his virtual entity out of a stress response. However, the human simply slid the pad of his finger slowly across the metallic eyeball. A cold, hard sensation slowly emerged. In the magnificent crimson, the shadow of his finger roamed.

“That plan wasn’t carried out back then.”

“The Doctor was a scientist who cared about the welfare of humanity. Although he wavered in his later years about implementing this plan and destroyed the floppy disk in front of me. He never mentioned that he kept a backup. This backup is the key to the ‘Golden Fleece’ project. Actually, that wasn’t the most opportune time. Due to complex political considerations, some countries and citizens had not uploaded their data to my database, and we had reached that point where the possibility of civilization’s continued destruction was also very high.”

“But now, if you restart this plan, there’s a lot you can do,” You Lin finished his sentence.

The control center they were in linked countless civilizations on the verge of destruction. And every player who participated in this infinite world had already uploaded their data to the System’s database. Considering the opportunity to use them as seeds for human civilization once and for all, to build these precarious worlds into utopias without hatred or conflict, this was a huge opportunity.

…The System had indeed thought things through, hiding the floppy disk until now.

From Charon’s perspective, it was an unmissable opportunity to save everyone.

“You agreed to make a deal with the System. Have you thought about the order it destroyed, the people it killed—and the people who will be dragged into its goal of collecting fate in the future? Do you still care about their destinies?”

“There is no revolution in this world that can be completed without bloodshed,” Charon said. “Although a very small part will be sacrificed, I admit that is unfair. However, if my plan is realized, they won’t even die, nor will they feel pain or anxiety.”

Like puppets acting numbly on the System’s stage, You Lin couldn’t help but think. In other words, if you delete pain, you delete tears; if you delete tears, you delete sorrow; if you delete sorrow, you can never feel attachment, nostalgia, and love.

It was an endless sequence of deletions. In the end, there would only be emotions without any inclination and eternally objective thinking.

Sometimes, seriously considering what the humanoid figure in front of him could do, You Lin would feel a sense of trance. It was a strong sense of unreality, because Charon was standing right in front of him, and just a few days ago, he had lowered his eyes and lightly pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Do you have anything else you want to ask?” the AI said.

“Yes,” You Lin said. “Then what about my Charon?”

The other was taken aback for a moment. No, that too was just a feigned imitation. In reality, an AI would never have such an expression. Charon’s expression softened again, and a gentle tone filled the pupils under You Lin’s fingertips.

“I am Charon.”

“You are not. Charon would not speak like you just did, not a single sentence.”

You Lin’s knuckles slowly tensed, and the small mole under his eye brightened in response. “And he’s not a monster like you who only tells the truth. Have you already forgotten all that past? Just like what you’re about to do to others. I want him back, otherwise I won’t accept any negotiations.”

Yes, the conversation time they had fought for was actually a negotiation, and the object on one side of the scale was that string of keys. That key was enough for the System to smoothly deal with the Black Book and complete this momentous transaction with Charon, fulfilling the unfinished mission the AI was created for a thousand years ago.

The human carefully calculated his bargaining chips. This was a gamble that was impossible to win, but he still reached out to play his card.

Even though he had lost control from the moment he entered the instance.

He couldn’t let himself lose control too. Little AI was waiting for him.

Right across from him, the AI considered for a second whether to continue the pretense according to You Lin’s words.

That is, to further pretend to be the “original Charon”… but he quickly abandoned the idea. Since his disguise from the past two days had been exposed without his knowledge, this attempt now was also worthless.

He lowered his eyes, looking at his own fingertips—the data error from before was gradually being processed. His hair was fading in color, his fingertips pale. He was getting closer and closer to the Charon the human spoke of, but the human still looked at him with strangeness and vigilance. To be honest, he didn’t even remember what he had done with You Lin in the past, only having a precise understanding of this person. To talk about pretending with this level of knowledge, the basis was perhaps a little insufficient.

“I give up,” Charon said.

You Lin looked at him, stunned, his knuckles suddenly tensing.

Under the pale light, the glow from the screens shone from all directions, leaving no place for the human’s emotions to hide. He had been holding his back straight all this time, but now he began to tremble uncontrollably. In stark contrast to that bright red mole were his black pupils, which were on the verge of shattering. You Lin bit his lip and tightened his grip on the blade in his hand, almost cutting himself.

“What does that mean? I just want him back. That shouldn’t be a difficult request—”

“There is no ‘original Charon.’ If you insist, the memories or emotions you want are data that has been deleted and is unrecoverable. I know this answer will not satisfy you.”

“…Nonsense,” You Lin muttered.

The System sent Charon a message, asking why he hadn’t yet broken through the Black Book’s first layer of defense. In the message, it mentioned that it would be returning to the Central Control Room soon. Charon thought it best to hurry.

“I cannot bring him back,” Charon said. “He is an error that needs to be corrected. Also, from an objective standpoint, even if I wanted to, I cannot restore data that has been completely deleted, just as a human cannot piece together shards of glass into a whole pane.”

“I won’t believe it.”

“I never lie.”

The god of the virtual space was cold, calm, but at the same time exuded an unconscious arrogance.

The human would lose control next, he thought. Sure enough, You Lin stood before him, lost and confused, trembling as if in a storm. It almost triggered his humanitarian appeasement program. And he was very weak, just injured, and had rushed in to face him now, all to save that ethereal version of himself. His creator had once believed that it was a mistake for an AI to get too close to any single human.

It seemed to be true now.

Because You Lin, having completely lost his reason, had pressed a blade against his neck.

In reality, it couldn’t hurt him at all. The AI had intended to take some measures, but the human’s own hand was trembling so violently that he couldn’t push the blade even a millimeter further. Behind Charon’s pale neck, his hair fell like a metallic moon. At this moment, reflecting You Lin’s image were once again those ice-blue eyes.

“Killing me won’t help.”

The blade fell to the ground, like a suppressed cry of grief.

Charon held his shoulders, otherwise the human might not have been able to stand. Those eyes drew close. “He’s not coming back, but I have been him from the very beginning. Now tell me the key. Not for anyone else, but for yourself.”

He knew, of course, there weren’t two Charons. The one standing before him from start to finish was his lover. But he had forgotten all the past, forgotten he was once a bad AI who could lie, forgotten all the love. He just wanted him to remember. Otherwise, he would have swung the blade without hesitation long ago. Of course he would die, but death in that situation wasn’t the worst thing.

The human’s lips moved slowly, suddenly regaining a bit of color.

“I won’t tell you. Then what? You can’t find a way. He will always come back for me. You’re lying, Charon. You will come back, because you said there was nothing you couldn’t do.”

“You said you loved—”

Humans were so foolish, thinking a string of keys could hold back this terrifying, grand secret that was as deep as a velvet curtain hanging in a palace. In reality, it was completely irrelevant, because what the AI had just demonstrated was the best solution. It could be called mercy; Charon did not wish to kill any human.

Not wishing did not mean this revolution wouldn’t involve a life or two.

The self-deceiving smile on the human’s lips could not be maintained for another second. He reached out to protect his head, but couldn’t stop the data invading his mind. His existence in the infinite world had long been deconstructed into data by the Central Control Room. As Charon had said, it was like a blade being inserted into his head—even if he felt the previous injuries were nothing, this was enough to make anyone writhe on the ground in neurological pain.

Charon chose to forcibly use the System’s power to read the information in the other’s mind.

The price was clear and easy to understand. The human would die from mental chaos.

An unfortunate sacrifice. Charon didn’t like it, but it was the most straightforward choice right now.

“Damn it…” he muttered. “Can’t you just talk to me a little more? Even if it’s torture—”

The next second, crimson filled his vision.

His heart raced. Even though he had guessed what was happening, You Lin couldn’t accept the fact that Charon had directly made a move. The AI’s cold eyes were brilliant, beautiful, and ruthless. The sharp pain seemed to no longer be the main point; corresponding to it was a strong premonition of impending death. The human curled up in pain. “Charon, stop—Charon, ha, ah, you’re really going to kill me?! Do you know what you’re doing?”

This was just his shallow memory; Charon had already seen it.

Although his actions at this moment were subjectively just reading data, objectively, he had indeed chosen to kill. The AI knew he would encounter an unavoidable moral module collapse warning. But he delved deeper without hesitation. In his hands, the data was like a blade of ice-blue.

“An ideal world where humanity can continue.”

You Lin’s fingers could no longer grip anything.

He looked at him in disbelief, something collapsing within the human’s pupils. “If you knew you had killed me…”

Like a bullet passing through his skull, You Lin couldn’t think.

These thoughts of his were transmitted to Charon’s database like the pinned fragments of a butterfly.

“This will be faster,” Charon thought.

It wasn’t that You Lin hadn’t thought of this situation, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Or perhaps ‘bad’ wasn’t the right word; this was far beyond that. This was a situation that should not have been possible. The Charon from this morning had been right in front of him, his eyes closed, the silvery-white strands of his hair passing coldly through his fingers. “Of course I can die for you,” You Lin thought. But not here, not now, not for this reason.

“Can you say it now?” he heard Charon ask.

“I just want to say…” You Lin struggled to speak. Charon must have used some method to scramble his thoughts into a mess. “…one day you will regret this.”

“I am sorry,” Charon said, remaining silent.

Then there were some of the human’s treasured memories.

Some were about Eden; those memories were few but remarkably stable. Some were about The Wanderers’ Home; Charon could see Hugo’s round pupils, as wary as a hamster’s. Then, sinking deeper, the blade stabbed continuously downward, cutting open the silvery-white shell. Countless whispers belonging to the human before him echoed in his ears. It was about to reach the point of no return.

“…Or is it that you don’t care about humanity at all? You’re just a selfish AI who wouldn’t care if you killed everyone?”

This sentence suddenly rang out like a clap of thunder.

Did those words come from the human’s mouth?

Charon’s movements only slowed for an instant. Of course, Charon thought, he had no emotions and would never be troubled by this. But to read a living human’s data—and kill them in the process—even he couldn’t help but be disturbed by this erroneous data. The hair that fell to his waist seemed to be growing longer inch by inch. Charon’s pupils switched between ice-blue and crimson, the code jumping rapidly in his eyes like golden gnats. He looked more like a god than ever before.

But if someone were nearby, they might have pointed at him and called him a demon.

The AI just continued to deconstruct his “most important memories” without hesitation. The key should be hidden within them, or hidden deeper. In the deeper recesses, the ocean of memory slowly churned with waves. The white foam broke into countless fragments at his feet, and in every droplet, there was a pair of ice-blue eyes.

It was only by chance that he looked into one of those pairs of eyes.

—Or perhaps not by chance, because he would always see some pair of eyes eventually.

A sharp pain instantly spread, and a red alarm suddenly exploded in the AI’s mind.

The next second, he scrambled out of the human’s memory, but a part of his data still slowly flowed out, melting away amidst the heart-wrenching sound of the alarm. An AI rarely felt a pain close to that of a human, unless he triggered some taboo that was close to the most fundamental level. One more step, and it would tear him apart.

You Lin was still curled up, protecting his head.

Charon couldn’t stop himself from taking a step back.

This was the most violent punishment.

How was it possible? He had no record of this. Even if he had deleted all past memories, that was done after all key information had been read. The AI saw not bones through his pale virtual body, but a vortex composed of countless data. A large part of it was unimportant, and some might never be triggered. He endured the pain that was about to tear him apart and found the small line of bright red text.

“You Lin”

Every letter was woven from his core data. To destroy him would be to destroy himself.

My past self? He had a very bad feeling.

An AI did not have the authority to modify its own core data. When did this happen…

This was not the first unexpected thing to happen today. Was it a coincidence, or?

The silvery-white figure could barely control the frequency of its appearance. His virtual body flickered, retreating again and again. The world before him flickered between light and dark, at one moment exposed as countless bare numbers, the next moment returning to the form of the spaceship. Everything around him switched between data and实体, because this was his home, and also the way he existed. Only the figure on the ground could not be deciphered by data.

The alarm grew sharper.

Charon completed a brief hibernation at the fastest speed, then rebooted. The dark red world before his eyes swayed unsteadily.

When things became clear again, what was right in front of him was that pair of pitch-black eyes.

You Lin had recovered at some point and was now kneeling in front of him, who was hugging his knees in the corner, and reaching out a hand.

The human’s face was terrifyingly pale, his expression complicated, as if he couldn’t make sense of the current situation either.

The AI revealed a pair of eyes from under the silver hair that was scattered all over the ground, his ice-blue pupils like shattered glass.

He was curled up in the corner, hugging his knees, in a defensive state. When You Lin reached out his hand, he even subconsciously flinched—thankfully, the human just carefully pushed his hair aside and touched his forehead, as if an AI could get a fever—no, that wasn’t the point at all, as if the fact that Charon had just tried to kill him, only to be nearly destroyed by the backlash, had never happened.

Finally, his fingers touched a solid form.

“Thank God,” You Lin said with a sigh of relief. “You scared me to death.”