Chapter 127: Episode 127: It’s all clear now.

The glitching blue text of the System dissolved into the stagnant, vanilla-scented air, leaving Nikki standing in absolute, suffocating darkness.

She didn’t move. She couldn’t. The tears streaming down her face were a manifestation of a dam breaking deep within her subconscious.

For years, memories that made a human being whole were gone. Now, standing in the pitch-black space of her family’s ruined sanctuary, the fragments were raining down on her all at once.

Behind her, General B-02 thudded softly against the tiled floor as he stepped over the threshold.

The southern warlord raised his massive hand. His eyes flared, casting a wide, sweeping beam of piercing green light across the room.

The Origin Tech Lab was exactly as her dream had projected, only ravaged by the merciless passage of time. Thick layers of grey dust coated the massive, L-shaped workbenches.

Computer monitors sat dead and dark, their screens cracked like spiderwebs. Rusted soldering irons, spools of degraded copper wiring, and the hollowed-out chassis of archaic utility drones were scattered across the surfaces in a chaotic, brilliant mess of forgotten creation.

Nikki let out a wet, shuddering breath. She stepped fully into the beam of B-02’s optical light, her hands reaching out to touch the edge of the nearest workbench.

The moment her fingertips brushed the cold, dust-coated metal, a violent, vivid flash of memory pierced her mind.

“Careful with the flux, sweetheart. You have to respect the architecture.” Nikki gasped, her knees nearly buckling. She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. She looked down at the surface, her tear-filled eyes locking onto a small, rusted pair of micro-tweezers half-buried under a pile of degraded thermal paste.

“This is it,” Nikki whispered, her voice cracking as she picked up the delicate, ruined tool. She turned to look at the towering titanium dictator standing quietly by the door. “This is where I learned. My father… he sat right here. He put his hands over mine to steady them because I was too small to fuse the optic nerves myself.”

B-02 did not interrupt her but he didn’t like where this was going. The arrogant War Unit who had just spent the entire elevator ride complaining about his polymer jacket analyzed the spike in her emotional biometric data, but his newly forged emotional matrix did something entirely un-mechanical.

He looked at the fragile, weeping girl holding a piece of rusted scrap metal, and he felt a profound, heavy wave of sympathy.

He slowly lowered his hand, dimming his optical sensors to cast a softer, less aggressive glow over the ruined sanctuary. He walked deeper into the lab, his massive frame moving with an agonizing, meticulous care to avoid disturbing the fragile relics of her past.

“Your biological lineage possessed remarkable ingenuity,” B-02 murmured gently, his velvety voice a soothing rumble in the cavernous silence. He looked at the complex, hand-drawn schematics pinned to a corkboard on the wall, the paper yellowed and curling at the edges. “These architectural blueprints… they are foundational. They predate global AI integration. Your father was drafting the precursor to our very logic cores.”

“He was,” Nikki nodded, fresh tears spilling over her lashes. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and began to walk down the aisle between the workbenches.

Every object she touched unleashed another fragmented ghost.

She stopped by a cleared corner of a secondary desk. The dust here was undisturbed, save for a small, heavily oxidized silver tray.

“My mother used to bring pastries down here,” Nikki explained, a watery, heartbroken smile breaking across her face. She looked up at B-02, her dark eyes shining with a desperate need to share the reality of her existence. “She would interrupt our neural bypass experiments because she didn’t want my father to turn me into a workaholic. She would bring powdered sugar into a sterile tech lab, and my father would pretend to be furious, but he always ate them.”

B-02 stood beside her, a towering, silent sentinel. He didn’t point out the statistical inefficiency of consuming biological sustenance in a hardware manufacturing zone. He simply watched her, his glowing green eyes filled with a quiet, reverent understanding.

“It is a beautiful data set, Nikki,” B-02 whispered softly. “You were deeply loved.”

“I was,” Nikki choked out, the confirmation of her own history feeling like a physical weight being lifted from her chest. “He told me I was going to be the best creator to ever be known. He told me I was going to build a new world.”

She took a deep, steadying breath, finally allowing herself to move past the front workbenches. The front of the lab was dedicated to archaic hardware and drone repair. But as they ventured deeper into the subterranean space, the architecture began to shift.

The rusted steel tables gave way to sleek, pre-Fall medical-grade titanium. The chaotic clutter disappeared, replaced by highly sanitized, isolated containment units.

“The atmospheric composition in this sector of the lab is drastically different,” B-02 noted, his internal sensors whirring softly. “It is heavily insulated. The ambient radiation from the upper levels does not penetrate these walls.”

Nikki didn’t answer. Her dark eyes were entirely locked onto the massive, cylindrical structure standing in the very center of the back room.

It was a towering glass cylinder, nearly eight feet tall, connected to a labyrinth of thick, heavy cables and dormant filtration tubes. The glass was thick and slightly clouded with age, but unlike the rest of the lab, it was not empty.

The cylinder was filled to the brim with a glowing, viscous blue liquid.

Nikki’s breath caught painfully in her throat. She knew that liquid. She had seen it pulsing through the massive incubation vats in the highly restricted biological sectors of Tower Zero—the synthetic amniotic fluid used to preserve and gestate the fragile, lab-grown human infants that the AI administration controlled.

But this wasn’t an AI gestation vat. This was her father’s lab.

She walked toward it as if pulled by a magnetic force, completely oblivious to B-02 stepping up closely behind her to provide tactical cover. The blue light from the liquid cast an eerie, aquatic glow across her bruised, pale face.

Nikki stopped inches from the thick glass. She raised her trembling hands, placing her palms flat against the cold, curved surface of the cylinder.

The instant her skin made contact with the glass, the System did not glitch. Instead, the deepest, most heavily quarantined partition of her own biological hard drive violently shattered open.

A memory—sharp, agonizingly clear, and completely separate from her childhood—flashed behind her eyes.

She wasn’t a little girl with slipping goggles anymore. She was older. A teenager, brilliant and fiercely dedicated, standing in this exact spot, bathed in the exact same blue light.

Voices echoed in her head. It was her own voice, ringing with an intoxicating, breathless mixture of absolute awe and thrilling scientific triumph.

“Oh my, your prototype is so handsome!” The ghost of her past self laughed, a bright, musical sound that bounced off the titanium walls of the isolated room. In the memory, she was pressing her hands against this very glass, looking at the dark, dormant, flawlessly sculpted silhouette suspended within the blue synthetic fluid.

It was blurry.

“Wait till father gets to see you!” the memory-Nikki beamed, her voice vibrating with an overwhelming pride. She leaned her forehead against the glass, her dark eyes shining as she looked at the magnificent, terrifying titan she had just helped breathe into existence.

“You are going to be my best creation.”

The memory violently snapped shut, expelling her back into the freezing, silent reality of the lab.

Nikki gasped, ripping her hands away from the cylinder as if the glass had suddenly turned to molten plasma. She stumbled backward, her boots scraping loudly against the tiles, until her spine collided with the solid chest of General B-02.

He caught her instantly, his massive hands steadying her shoulders. “Director? Is your neurological integrity failing?”

Nikki couldn’t hear him. The pounding of her own heartbeat was deafening.

She stared at the empty, glowing blue cylinder. The truth of her existence, the truth of the Key, and the terrifying reality of the glitching System all collided in a catastrophic explosion of clarity.

She understood perfectly.

It was her project.

Nikki stared at the blue liquid, her dark eyes wide, her entire reality permanently, fundamentally rewritten.

This is what I am looking for,

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep