11 paces in a circle around her elevator, which sticks out of the middle of the meadow like a sore, metallic thumb.

The declining lifespans, the missing units, the questionable deaths…

Her mind races through the data, breaking it down, turning it sideways, looking for clues. She's walking so fast that the flowers sway in her wake.

“What the hell is going on?”

I do not understand your question.

“Four God Giers are currently missing?”

Correct. They are all presumed dead.

“Are you certain that Gier 3 was killed by Nanotech weaponry while Gier 6 was killed by ionized ones?”

I am certain.

“Does it not occur to you that only God Giers have access to these kinds of weapons?”

Are you implying the possibility of Gier 3 and 6 being killed by a fellow God Gier? I will remind you that God Giers are not programmed to harm a friendly unit, be it human or otherwise.

11 throws up her hands. "It seems pretty obvious, don't you think? Has mankind kept or re-developed Ionized weaponry since the Horizontal Reset?"

While it is true that all God Giers are outfitted with the ARC Ionized Cannon and a Nano-technology weapon, many weapons created during the Last War by both Arcadia and Eternal Heaven utilized similar technology. It is logical to assume some of it were brought down to Haven, or more were created during Phase One of Protocol Soteria.

11 whirls around, asks, “Do you have any idea what I saw down there?" Then, remembering she's arguing with something that is even more logical than her and capable of shutting her off with a single command, she quietens. "Bring up the records, please, Mother. I want to see everything that happened during Phase One.”

Fetching data…

.....

Error. Files cannot be located.

11 screeches to a stop, her foot planting into the soft grass. “Is this some sort of joke?"

No. I am locating significant chunks of corrupted and lost data in my servers.

"What… what happened? Why? Why didn't you tell me?”

There is evidence to suggest somesort of critical data breach, though the time this happened is unknown. I did not tell you because you did not ask.

“You didn't tell me because...!" 11 takes a breath and counts to ten. Then, she asks calmly, "How significant are we talking about?”

1496 years, 8 months, and 5 days worth of records.

11 falls back on the grass, feeling like she’s just been punched in the gut. “Luckily my mind isn’t real, or I would’ve lost it just then." She brings up a thumb to bite at the nail, but she almost gags when she tastes the remains of the spider-mantis.

"Ugh. What do you have then? Give me something to work with here, Mother. Any logs left by the other Giers?”

Searching…

Total log entries found: 1.

Logged by: Gier 10, on January 14th, 4095.

“That’s four years ago.” 11 wipes her hands on the grass and then stands up, renewed by the morsel of data. “Does that mean I've woken up four years after 10 was gone? No, never mind that. Play the log, please.”

Retrieving entry…

A voice message starts to play in 11’s ears. She recognizes the velvety, melodic voice of a fellow God Gier, though there is a hint of unfamiliarity under the calm tone; an underlying feeling of pathos and sorrow, or something equally impossible and illogical.

She listens, wondering.

Playing log of Infiltrator-type God Gier, Mark II, Unit 10:

.....

Yuzu's log, number 5,901:

Date: 10th day of the month of Mouse, year 1245.

Dear God Gier 11,

You no doubt have a lot of unanswered questions as you listen to this. I wish I could give you some closure. But if I did, this message will be deleted.

Fortunately, I do have some other answers for you, things I’ve learned during my time in this world that I hope can help you.

For instance, if the sun starts to disappear behind the mountain ridges, and an orchestra of oranges and purples is thrown across the skies, you will know that tomorrow will be a perfect day for a picnic. Oh, it is such a harmonious symphony of light, 11, it’s something our creators have only seen in dreams.

Also, just before a downpour breaks from the clouds, you will smell the air change. But no matter how diligently you watch for it, the sky always seems to catch you off-guard, and then it’s just the most hectic, most exciting scramble trying to get your clothes off the drying rack before everything is drenched.

But the most beautiful sight in this world isn’t the sky or the rain, 11. It is the bright, joyous eyes of the children as they spot you strolling through the village, and they all run into your arms, calling out your name. When their tiny noses nuzzle into you, it’s like you’re holding an armful of feathers, and you’re so anxious and scared trying not to squeeze too hard.

I can tell you what it feels like when a lover holds you hand, and squeezes your fingers so gently like they were the most delicate things in the world, even though they were made to do nothing but crush and destroy.

I can tell you how people’s eyes turn empty when they die. It’s so quick, like a neuron firing between synapses. You don’t even get time to tell them you love them.

I can also tell you how the world keeps on turning, even when it feels like it shouldn’t.

But I will let you discover those feelings on your own. Instead, I will leave you with a simple warning:

Do not let people of this world who or what you are and what you are here to do. It does not matter how you choose to live, but you must leave as many people out of it as possible. They have all forgotten the past, and they do not need to be reminded. You will only spread fear and cruelty if you try.

This future is a lot different than our creators envisioned. It is filled with wondrous beauty, but also madness and brutality. I hope you will come to see enough of both, 11

My name is Yuzu Tachigonmery, wife to a wonderful husband, and mother to a village of angels. My mission was to protect humanity’s reclamation of Earth during Phase Two of Protocol Soteria, and I have failed spectacularly.

Good luck to you, my dear sister.

Infiltrator-type God Gier, Mark II, Unit 10 of the Soteria Battalion, signing off for the final time.

For the hope of humanity.

.....

End of log.