- "Ephemeral Reality; A Caged Bird"
YoRHa No.10 Type H, also known as just 10H, is a character first introduced in the novella A Much Too Silent Sea from NieR:Automata - Short Story Long and NieR:Automata World Guide Volume 2, then later NieR Reincarnation. A YoRHa android tasked with protecting the server containing humanity's data on the Moon along with Pod 006.
She is mentioned in the NieR:Automata Ver1.1a episode no [I] in team.
Appearance[]
10H has the appearance of a young woman with shoulder length white hair and fair skin. She wears a standard YoRHa uniform consisting of a black dress, blindfold, and thigh high black boots.
Story[]
- "I...am YoRHa unit 10H.
I protect the sever containing humanity's data here on the moon.
This is the last bastion of humanity.
Someone...
Someone please help me."
10H's story is explored in the novella A Much Too Silent Sea and NieR Reincarnation's final arc, The People and the World.
Character Story[]
Alert: You understand that the base's
truth must be kept hidden, right?
Another meaningless day dawns. I remain confined to a distant base in anticipation of an emergency that will never happen. Almost 365 days have passed since I was stationed here. In a futile attempt to stave off my boredom, I fiddle with the fake red flowers Pod gave me to celebrate the occasion.
I'm sick to death of being bored. Isn't there anything fun to do? I grumble, drowning in my excess of time. Pod then makes an irritated gesture and reluctantly shows me some data.
It's data I've never seen before in my work. Rather than rows of numbers, it's packets of natural speech. As I debate internally on whether or not to read into the data, Pod begins to slowly read the data aloud in a gentle voice. To my surprise, it's a tale of the human world.
A story of a young boy and his clockwork attendant. Together, amidst the fires of war, they travel to meet those who have been harmed. So humans weren't born solely to wage war. It's the first time I feel any interest in learning about humanity, and it was enough to bring color to my dull life.
Reflection: I shouldn't have been so easy
on her... But I just feel so bad for her...
My days in this distant base were meaningless and dull, but Pod's stories transformed that boredom into elation. My appetite for stories whetted, I ask for more. But Pod says to me, "Maybe another day." Well, I think to myself, time to take matters into my own hands.
Making sure Pod doesn't notice, I search for the source of these stories and hack into the server where information on humanity is kept. Just as I expected, I find a number of stories. Bingo! Stingy little Pod... I mutter as I lose myself in the data.
Before long, I find myself going back to the story about the boy. I want to read it for myself. However... I find that quite a bit differs from what was read to me. Or rather, the story itself is... The words are...changing... Dancing.
If I sound the alarm, Pod will find out my secret. But I want to save the boy's story. Without further hesitation, I call Pod over. If it's angry with me, then so be it.
Proposal: Continue cooperating with 10H
in order to... No. We won't help her again.
Let's quit our traveling. We'll never stop this war... The boy huddles in a shed. His attendant pats his back to comfort him. Pod and I jump into the overwritten story and gaze at the changed boy and his attendant.
Is this really him? He seems like a different person... The boy gave up on his journey. The story data is corrupted. A little black bird sits perched on his shoulder. We conclude that the bird is the source of the corruption.
We quietly approach the boy from behind and shoo the bird away. But the boy remains withdrawn. Contrary to our expectations, nothing changes.
Analysis: We...may have been too late, Pod says. The story may be contaminated to its very core. I ask how we can fix it, but Pod says there's nothing we can do. It's a hopeless situation. But I refuse to give up.
The tale of a sweet, but short-lived boy... The first story Pod ever read to me. It's impossible to repair the corrupted story data, and so I decide...that simply means I'll have to rewrite it myself from scratch.
I rely on my memory alone to manually repair the story. Along with Pod's assistance, I slowly but surely rebuild the boy's life. And at last...the story is complete. All that's left is overwriting the old story with the new, completed one.
With a sigh of relief, a question comes to me: why would a mere story be saved so deep, under so many layers? It's almost as though humanity's memories themselves are being carefully protected... A thought akin to fantasy crosses my mind. "Pod?" But in that moment, a bright red flower bursts a hole through my chest.
I'm s※○△y—I did not want you to r□○□○ze the tr□□□. I will be fighting the black ※※※※※ on my own ※○w. I turn around to see P※□ in the ○△※ with its weapon. From the □□□□ in my chest s※○lls my □※△○※ies of Pod, all of the stories... I must...gather them...
Lost Archives[]
Rec. Re: The Fall of the Depths[]
"What a beautiful castle... Is this a dream?""...Oh, never mind. This is The Cage."
"I knew it would be a masterpiece, but seeing it
for myself is just so..."
"Wait, now it looks...strange. ...Oh no!
It's starting to collapse!"
"......"
"Um, is that a man? With a child? But why?"
"Hellooo!"
"My voice won't come out... But I'm right here!"
Author: Unknown
Alert Level: Monitoring
Rec. Re: Self-Repair of the Depths[]
"I wonder if I can get through here.""The deeper I go, the more damaged the data is."
"Though it does look like our dear li'l Cage is doing the best it can to repair itself."
"...Though I can't say it's exactly precise about what it's doing, given there are pathways on the ceiling."
"...I wonder if my own data is collapsing too, just like everything else."
"But hey, I believe in my good buddy, The Cage! It always finds a way!"
"Who would've thought I'd find a plank of wood that'd be perfect as a foothold."
"My legs are starting to feel heavy as lead, but...I can keep going. It's too soon to give up!"
Author: Unknown
Alert Level: Intervention Required
Rec. Re: Deep Concealment Area[]
“Thank goodness the data is in book format!”“My hearing isn’t what it used to be. Imagine the headache
I would’ve been in for had they been voice files!”
“I’d better finish this before my sight goes too.”
“But reading is no fun either. Hmm.”
“I guess I could just skip it.”
“I’ve never read a book before, so I figured I’d take the
opportunity to read every word...”
“I’ve got my ticket and all, so I might as well...”
“Welp, now’s as good a time as any to try out
speed-reading and leave my worries behind!”
Author: Unknown
Alert Level: Intervention Required
Rec. Re: Protecting the Depths[]
"I...can't move anymore...""But preparations to leave are finally in place."
"I wonder if Pod's aware of what I've done..."
"Pod... Mama's pretty funny, even in times like this."
"But this is no time to be laughing."
"I... I am YoRHa Unit 10H."
"Someone..."
"Someone please help me."
Author: YoRHa Unit 10H
Alert Level: Disposal Required
A Lost Voice Recording[]
“Uh, dear people in The Cage. I’m leaving this for you.”“We didn’t have a lot of time together, but I’m so grateful
for the journey we had.”
“I’m wondering, did your wishes as a fan come true? Y’know.”
“I really wanted to visit Earth, but... Oh well.”
“Fio, Levania? You’ve gotta lead everyone, got it?”
“Hina, Yuzuki... If you fight again, I’m going to start
haunting you.”
“And Mama! Try not to annoy everyone too much, okay?”
“Hm... Sorry, I think it’s about time.
See you again someday!”
Author: [Data Lost]
Alert Level: Unknown
Other Stories[]
Copied Floral Silhouette, Part 1[]
7:30 AM: Waking up and breakfast.
Report: This is your 335th day on duty.
You have accumulated a total of 8,016 hours of work time.
The voice rouses the girl from her slumber,
but she is not yet ready to get out of bed. She groans and rolls over.
Report: It is time to wake up.
Urging her to wake is a machine called a Pod,
a tactical support unit for androids like the girl.
Proposal: Get up.
Let me sleep…
The girl pulls the blanket over her head in an attempt to hide her face.
As she does, the loud bang of a gunshot rings out.
Startled, she bolts upright.
The red Pod floating before her set off a conical firecracker with its arm.
Colorful confetti flutters down around the two of them.
It's something of a salute from the Pod.
Report: Today marks eleven months since starting your mission.
Amidst the white walls, white floor, and white ceiling of the room,
the Pod pushes in a white cart.
On it sits a white plate, a white cup, fake white flowers in a vase,
and a cake covered with snow—white cream.
Report: Today is a special occasion.
As a treat, your breakfast today is cake.
It's her first time seeing a cake, and she can't help giving a little gasp in awe.
It isn't necessary for androids to consume food—the girl
considers meals a bother. But cake is an exception.
She recalls that in the time of human civilization,
when people lived normal lives, cake was a particularly pleasurable treat.
She's always wanted to try it.
But isn't it a little odd to celebrate eleven months on the job?
Analysis: The number 11 is composed of two ones.
Is that not a cause for celebration?
What a strange answer, the girl thinks.
But it's as good an excuse any, she decides,
especially if it means cake is involved. Not to mention…
These white flowers are so pretty.
She runs a finger across the petals of the fake
white flowers placed in the center of the cart.
Summary: These are modeled after flowers called carnations.
It's a pretty flower, its petals resembling a frilly skirt.
The Pod explains that in the era of human civilization,
in a particular region,
these flowers were a common gift children gave to their mothers.
Hypothesis: It might be an odd gift as I am
essentially like your mama, and you my child.
Oh, come on. There are no mothers or children among androids.
After a brief period of silly pedantry, the
Pod abruptly takes out a small contraption
from the lower shelves of the cart as though only just remembering.
Proposal: Let's take a celebratory photograph.
In the distant past, this item was
once called a “digital camera.”
For whatever reason, the girl's
Pod enjoyed mimicking rituals from human civilizations.
It would often go out of its way to recreate devices like this.
Oh, come on. We don't need to take a picture.
A bright flash from the camera immediately follows.
At least give me a heads-up. I'm sure I look stupid in that one!
She snatches the camera from the Pod to erase the photo.
She clicks through the device and looks at the contents
of the folder on the screen. When did the
Pod manage to take two pictures of her?
...Hm?
As she gazes at a photo, something unusual strikes her.
But before she can identify why,
the Pod snatches the camera back from her.
Alert: Refrain from touching things without my permission.
Devices from human civilization are very delicate.
I'm not so careless that it'll fall apart in my hands.
As she returns to finish her cake.
she thinks about what struck her as odd in the photo.
But finding no answer, she sets the thought aside.
8:00 AM. Routine inspection.
This facility is said to sit deep in the ocean depths.
This is because it stores priceless data on humanity.
The enemy cannot know of its presence.
The girl has been tasked with looking after the facility alone,
albeit with the help of Pods.
A dozen or so red Pods of the same model fly around
the server room, carrying out their inspections.
In total, the facility is home to several hundred Pods.
They all share the same intelligence, and so they all quibble similarly.
As the girl carries out a cursory inspection of the
servers, a Pod emits a sudden scold.
Proposal: Conduct your
work with a greater sense of responsibility.
Yeah, yeah. She brushes it off.
Internally, she curses it out.
I'm an android, you silly Pod.
I work for humanity too, you know.
Even so, the Pods handle most of the work.
She rarely has an opportunity to take charge.
She heaves a sigh and looks around her.
How dreadfully dull—white walls, white ceiling,
white floor. The only other colors are her
black clothes and the red Pods.
Oh?
Suddenly, the photo she saw earlier flashes in her memory banks.
At last, she realizes what was so odd about it.
There was something red in her pure white room,
And it wasn't the red of a Pod.
The carnations—they were red.
How strange. She tilts her head quizzically.
The carnations from this morning were white,
of that she is certain.
Could their red color in the photograph have
been an artifact of ancient digital photography?
10:30 AM. Free time.
The girl sits on her bed and delves deep into her memory banks.
Perhaps she couldn't recall the color of the flowers she saw
only hours before due to a fault in her memory region.
As a precautionary measure, she conducts a scan.
Fearing one of her functions may have halted,
she scans deeper and deeper into her banks.
But she finds nothing anomalous. Her functions are perfectly
normal, and her systems are operating as they should.
She's certain that the flowers this morning were white,
yet the flowers in the photo were red.
Such a contradiction is impossible.
She delves deeper into her memory region, and there,
she discovers something she doesn't recognize.
Suspicious encrypted data.
She manages to decrypt and access it.
A video plays before her.
In the footage, the girl is infiltrating a
warehouse—a storage unit for spare Pods.
She then hacks into the Pod network and…
The footage after is corrupted. She cannot watch the rest.
The girl doesn't recall anything she sees in the video,
but without a doubt, it remains in her data.
Does this mean someone erased my memory?
But who? There's no one here besides her and the Pods.
11:30 AM. Investigation.
The girl makes her way to the warehouse.
Whether or not the memory in her memory region is real,
she can't say. But the fact that it was deliberately
encrypted and left there means that there must be something here.
She suddenly notices a Pod beside her.
Query: What are you doing?
She gives a casual, noncommittal answer and
pushes open the warehouse door. Inside, she sees
several hundred backup Pod chassis.
Proposal: If you have no business here,
we should leave. We wouldn't want to damage these.
Yeah… You're right, she says.
She obediently pivots on her heel to leave.
The Pod follows her, and they leave the warehouse.
Suddenly–
With great vigor, she kicks off the ground and dashes back into the warehouse.
The Pod shouts to stop her, but it's too late.
The shutter falls between the Pod and the girl.
Whoops! Sorry about that, Pod.
It’s a defense mechanism to prevent enemy infiltration.
She knew the Pod would follow her,
so she set its activation ahead of time.
She turns away from the shutter.
Why did the Pod try to stop me?
Coming into the warehouse shouldn't be a big deal.
Unless the Pod is hiding something from me.
She can no longer ignore the questions eating away at her.
In the exact same manner as in the encrypted video,
she begins hacking into the silent backup Pods.
Commencing System Check.
Memory Unit: Green.
Vitals: Green.
Pod Connection: Interrupted.
Systems Red.
Systems Red.
All System Greens.
The digital space is a field, white carnations proudly
blooming across its entirety. In all directions,
to the very horizon, there is nothing else.
This is the Pod network. The girl's hacking was successful.
She slowly walks forward.
What was that photo with the red carnations?
What was the mysterious data in her memory region?
And what are the Pods hiding?
She presses onward. With every step, the hologram
carnations that adorn the path gleam brightly.
And then, the girl sees a white shadow.
It is unclouded and even brighter than the flowers.
Appearing before her is an android, also clad in white.
This android has the exact same face as her.
Copied Floral Silhouette, Part 2[]
Within the facility that houses all of humanity's data,
the lone android custodian has questions.
The fact that her support Pod unit had a photo she had
no memory of sparked her overwhelming curiosity.
What could her Pod be hiding?
And so she infiltrated the Pods' network in search of the truth.
Inside, she comes face to face with a white shadow.
An android who shares her face but who wears clothes of the
opposite color. A mirror image, perhaps.
The girl does not know the android's identity.
Perhaps it is a derivative of her model developed unbeknownst to her.
But why is she wearing white when androids typically wear black?
Besides, this is the Pod network.
That an android is here at all is highly unusual.
The android in white stands among the brilliant hologram carnations,
her head drooped, her words delirious.
It's as though she doesn't even notice the girl.
Cautiously, the girl approaches her mirror image,
whose nonsensical speech comes to a halt.
She languidly lifts her head.
The two exchange a stare through their goggles.
Barely a second passes.
Suddenly and without warning, the mirror image slashes at the girl, destroying her arm.
You've gotta be kidding me!
The girl cries out and leaps backward, putting distance between
herself and her mirror image, readying herself for battle.
She then regenerates her severed arm.
This is, of course, the Pod network.
Her physical arm isn't lost if it's severed in this digital space—that is simply an anomaly
within a software program.
And as a Healer-type android, if there are any faults in the system,
she can carry out the repairs necessary to restore operation.
But the girl isn't given the luxury to ponder why this other android is attacking her.
The mirror image rushes forward. The flowers at her feet luminesce,
their petals dancing in the air. She closes in on the girl at a bullet's speed.
The girl activates her attack protocol and engages with the mirror image.
Her attack protocol manifests within the digital space as a sword.
Blades clash. The vicious blow from the mirror image leaves the girl's hands numb.
Her speed and swordsmanship are violence incarnate.
She is a hatred-spewing demon.
Her fragile white garb conceals an unimaginable amount of power.
The girl staggers back on her left foot. As a Healer, she is not particularly
suited for combat, be it in the physical world or a digital space.
On the other hand, although the android in white may share her face,
her movements suggest she is not a Healer.
If anything, she outperforms the combat-specialized Battler models.
This unit must have lost control.
This is the girl's conclusion. How would this android be able to
produce such devastating attacks otherwise?
The mirror image's arm shoots upwards, and her blade comes
down with such ferocious intensity that it shatters the girl's own.
The girl isn't given the slightest moment to reactivate her attack protocol.
Instead, she is fully focused on evading the mirror image's constant barrage of attacks.
Hold on... Time out!
But the enemy will never acknowledge her trembling cry.
The mirror image continues her flurry in a wild dance.
The android's blade flies near. The girl bends backward, narrowly dodging.
In that moment, she urges her thoughts on faster.
What do I do here?
I've got no clue... She's lived much of her life without having to think very hard,
much less strategize about deadly combat situations.
But one thing is for certain—without her weapon,
her only options are fighting bare-handed or dying. One option, then.
She makes adjustments to her motion control algorithm.
This will temporarily suppress her other functions,
but in this digital space, it will grant her access to exceptional strength.
In the brief window when the mirror image raises her sword,
the girl dashes forward and crushes her right arm.
With a sickening crunch, a red liquid splatters everywhere.
The mirror's arm, from the elbow down, falls to the ground along with her sword.
The dancing white flowers at their feet turn red.
I've got you now, the girl thinks to herself.
But suddenly, there's a dull sound as her arm twists in a way it shouldn't.
The mirror image hit the girl with her torn upper arm.
Despite the adjustments the girl made to her output,
that strike alone is enough to destroy her own right arm.
But she can still use it.
The girl leaps into the air, using her broken arm to lash
like a whip at the mirror image's head.
The android staggers from the sudden attack. And then—
I can't do this! I'm not getting anywhere!
The girl darts off and begins her escape.
Though she intends to run, leaving the Pod network after going
through the trouble of hacking into it is no simple matter.
She makes her way to the deepest levels of the network.
After running for a while, she turns around. Her mirror image has not followed.
Perhaps the girl's last attack was more effective than she thought.
Or perhaps the mirror image simply felt no need to give chase.
Whatever the case, the danger is gone for the moment.
With a deep breath, the girl regenerates her broken arm.
She then steps into the deepest layers.
The brilliant white of the hologram carnations at her feet abruptly
changes color. Like a wave rushing over the shore, they're dyed a deep red.
The red reminds the girl of the Pods' chassis color.
Hey... Pod?
As she steps on the red carnations, she thinks of the nagging yet reliable robot.
You celebrated my anniversary with me. You gave me a delicious cake.
And pretty carnations too...
She presses forward, praying that the doubts in her heart don't portend something terrible.
I never particularly liked you, but you're always there to keep me
company in that lonely base. I was right to trust you, at least. Right?
She arrives at the deepest part of the network.
Android bodies are suspended in the air above the wildly blooming
red carnations, like darkly gleaming stars in the sky.
They float there, eyes closed and still, as though they slumber.
All of them look exactly like the girl.
As the girl stands before the uncanny sight, she murmurs—
What are you hiding, Pod?
Copied Floral Silhouette, Part 3[]
The android girl manages the facility that houses all of humanity's data.
One day, she began harboring doubts
over the actions of the Pod that supports her.
Is her Pod hiding something?
She infiltrated the Pod network in search of the truth.
There, she encountered an android clad in
white with the exact same face as her.
The mysterious android suddenly and viciously attacked her.
Left with no other choice, the girl fled
into the deepest part of the network.
There, she found countless hers—bodies
that perfectly resembled her, suspended in the air.
She stares in shock at the android bodies.
What is this doing here, in the Pod network?
They are hiding something from her.
It's probably no big deal.
Or so she says to herself.
She can't imagine the Pods betraying her, so assuming
she learns the truth behind the bodies, it shouldn't be a problem. Right?
She slowly lifts her arms, then reaches out to
access the memories of the androids that look just like her.
As they load, the memories overtake the girl's consciousness.
These are my memories...
Things I should have experienced before...
Memories...
I run across a white floor.
Every day, every single day in this facility is so dreadfully boring.
But running through this place fills my chest
with a feeling far removed from boredom.
The door ahead draws near. Once I open it, I can escape.
But this facility sits at the bottom of the ocean so
that the enemy will never find it, meaning the ocean lies beyond that door.
If I open it, the water will crush me with the weight of a thousand atmospheres.
But if I stop here, they'll kill me. My only choice is to open the door.
I grab the knob.High-voltage electricity burns my hand.
But I don't care. Pain doesn't matter to me.
I scream my throat raw and rip open the door.
But water doesn't rush in.What I see instead is an azure sphere.
A beautiful planet—Earth—gleaming a brilliant blue.
It sits there silently, floating in dark space.
Now I see. This isn't the deep ocean at all, but...the moon.
So that too was a lie. In the end, everything was a lie.
I figured out what they were hiding—humanity has already died out.
But the Commander is feeding us false information,
and we continue to fight for those who no longer exist.
There's nothing left for us to protect, yet we androids are made to fight for a lie.
It's so sad that humanity is gone...
But I think there's something even sadder.
I raise my hands in surrender.
The horde of red Pods reach out to me with their arms.
Those same arms brought me breakfast each morning and played chess with me.
And now that I've learned the truth, they're going to kill to me.
I can't run anymore.
The approaching red reminds me of the carnation.
I was so happy when Pod gave me those redflowers for my eleven-month anniversary.
..................End of data.
The girl's consciousness returns to her.
When she accessed one of the floating bodies, its memories flooded into her.
Once the vision fades, she steps back with trembling legs.
This can't be. It has to be some kind of mistake.
But when she accesses the memories of the other bodies,
she finds they all contain the same data.
Whenever she finds out the truth, the Pods attack her and delete her memory.
And so she forgets everything. Everything is taken from her,
even the sliver of sadness at the very end. It's all gone.
This has happened countless times.
Indeed, the bodies floating before her are the remains of her
consciousness data, all that has been erased thus far.
How sad...
I trusted you, Pod.
The girl senses someone behind her.
She turns around to see her mirror image, the android girl
clad in white, who must have caught up to her at some point.
She stares into space, muttering nonsense under her breath.
Her right arm, which the girl previously destroyed, has regrown,
and in her hand is a military sword drenched in a red liquid.
Who are you, really?
The girl takes slow steps toward her mirror image.
But suddenly, the mirror image leaps forward.
Her blade draws an arc through the air directly toward the girl.
But the girl does not flee. She does not dodge.
She takes the blade to her chest.
Red liquid pours from her. She feels...pain.
Her old self, clad in white, feels the same hatred as when
she learned that the Pods betrayed her.
The girl understands when she accepts the blade—the mirror
image is another piece of consciousness data that once belonged to her.
Why...?
The mirror image's fading voice melts into the girl.
With the blade still plunged through her heart, the girl
reaches out to pull the android into an embrace.
Look, I get it—the desire to lash out, I mean.
Because you're me.
She found that the sadness she felt at the very end of each
memory she accessed was always the same,
no matter how many times her memory was wiped.
Pod played me for a fool this entire time.
I know. You were devastated.
She speaks with the mirror image as though
answering her own questions.
I...will never forgive them for what they've done.
I'm sure they had their reasons. We should talk with them.
But once they erase your memory, it's over. It's always...
It's always been this way.But...
The mirror image pulls the blade from the girl's heart.
She takes the girl into her arms as she
collapses and presses her cheek to the wound.
But the Pods were always looking out for me.
It was all a lie.
They taught me so many things.
It was all a lie.
The mirror image's fingers pry apart the girl's wound and press in.
Pain controls her body. Her breath becomes ragged in the burning torment.
Pod celebrated my anniversary with me.
It was all a lie.
Pod gave me a carnation...
It was all a lie.
I...
As she teases the girl's wound, the mirror image's fingertips,
hands, and arms fade into specks of light and meld into her.
The mirror image's body eventually scatters like mist, slipping inside the girl.
Once she accepts the pain, the hatred,
and the sadness...it starts to feel good.
The two androids become one.
Her black clothes slowly fade to white.
...I trusted Pod.
Pod used me. Like a heartless
puppet. Like a disposable toy.
They think nothing of me.
They've erased my memory over and over.
It was a lie. It was all a lie.
The shadow of the last remaining white
carnation in the sea of red mutters to herself, like a mantra of madness.
Copied Floral Silhouette, Part 4[]
Report: From Pod 006 to Pod 006.
Sharing the situation with you. She has learned of the truth again,
the poor thing. This is the 54th time.
She learned that humanity is no more.
How many times have we had to erase her memory?
She is currently in our Pod network.
In the deepest levels, I might add, where we store the remains
of her previously deleted consciousness data.
Yes, this is an emergency.
Upon learning the truth, her hatred consumed her.
She found a fragment of her past consciousness data
that was wandering the network—her white shadow.
She has incorporated it and merged with it.
That's bad. We must go to her as soon as possible.
We must stop her rampage.
We will have to erase her
consciousness data again.
In the deepest levels of the Pod network, the blooming
hologram carnations paint the white space red.
The black shadows suspended in the air are androids, all the same model.
They are the remains of the girl's deleted consciousness data.
Amidst it all is the girl, clad in white, muttering to herself as she wanders.
Why did Pod betray me?
Affirmation: Yes, I was tricking you.
A red Pod appears before her. Even noticing
that the girl has been dyed in the white of hatred, it does not waver.
They are inside the Pod network. As such, the Pod is aware of everything that happened to the girl.
And it knows what will happen next.
As the Pod switches to long-range-fire mode, the girl dashes forward with blade in hand.
The Pod opens fire, its heat ray burning the hologram flowers.
With clever movements, the girl dodges the ray and closes in on the Pod.
The Pod switches to close-quarters-combat mode.
Its four arms meet the girl in battle.
Sparks fly. Arms and blade clash.
The Pod is sent hurdling into the air and explodes.
A shockwave rushes past the girl,
but she pays it little mind. She points her blade behind her.
There, too, is another red Pod.
Hundreds of Pods of the same model are deployed throughout the facility,
and that's true of this digital space as well.
Why?
She cuts the Pods down one after the next,
but they keep coming without end. She growls.
Why...
She yells as she brandishes her sword.
Her despair and hatred only grow as she carries out her destruction.
Why!?
She looks to the sky. Beneath her visor,
her eyes take in the countless black shadows,
the remnants of her deleted consciousness data.
She is furious.
Why store the remains of her deleted data here, even when the
Pods will erase her memory after all of this?
Why is it in a place like this, in the Pods' own network?
Without them, she never would have learned the truth.
She never would have learned that the Pods were deceiving her,
or that humanity's extinction was being hidden.
She could have kept living on in boredom in the facility.
I'll destroy you... Every last one of you.
The girl raises her hand. She will delete
every last trace of her consciousness data.
Stop!
The scream came from a Pod. Its voice sounded human.
Suddenly, the digital space shimmers.
A wind cuts through them. Petals tear from the hologram
carnations, fluttering into the air and transforming into countless Pods.
The red mechs spread toward the sky like a flower in bloom.
They serve as a shield for the girl's remaining consciousness data.
This is...my sanctuary. Please don't destroy it.
Pod sounds unusually desperate, and the girl is shaken.
But it's not enough to ease her hatred.
That's always how you've tried to trick me.
She reaches for the consciousness data that the
Pods want so badly to protect. In that moment, all her memories flood into her.
Memories of eating breakfast with Pod.
The way Pod was so particular with how the toast was done,
how the coffee tasted, even though the girl could hardly care less.
Even so, it was fun.
Memories of playing chess together.
Neither were all that good, both often going back on their
moves with a "let's pretend that didn't happen."
It was all meaningless, simply a way to kill time.
Even so, it was fun.
Ah... Aaahhh... In the flood of memories, the girl draws back.
Just as her memory is taken from her,
she's overwhelmed by that familiar sadness.
Sadness about humanity's extinction.
Sadness that Pod betrayed her.
But she realizes something else.
It's because of her joyful memories that she feels sadness.
She is sad that she will lose her fond memories with Pod.
I couldn't get rid of them because they're...precious memories.
Pod speaks to the girl.
It tells her that androids fight for humanity,
so if they were to learn that humanity has died out,
it believes they would lose their will to fight.
But instead, the girl is profoundly hurt.
If we learn the truth, androids won't fight...
The girl mulls over Pod's words and then poses a question.
But you know the truth, Pod, and you're still fighting.
Even if humanity is gone, we must
keep protecting all that humanity has left behind.
Then I wish you hadn't kept that from me.
If only. If only...
I would've fought by your side, Pod.
I'm sorry. Pod squeezes out an apology.
I'm truly sorry.
It sounds as though it's crying. It hardly matters
that its mechanical body cannot produce tears—Pod is crying.
Let's fight together.
The girl reaches for Pod. Light spills from her pale frame.
Now that she has learned Pod's true feelings,
the white-hot hatred fades from her.
I've only ever been terrible to you.
Will you still fight alongside me?
Pod hesitates. The girl gently places her hand on its arm.
Standing there now is a girl who wears the colors
of an android who fights on behalf of humanity—black.
Their hands intertwine, and they vow to fight on together.
Commencing System Check.
Memory Unit: Green.
Vitals: Green.
Pod Connection: Enabled.
All System Greens.
Report: This is your 366th day on duty.
You have accumulated a total of 8,760 hours of work time.
The girl awaits breakfast, anticipation in her chest.
Today is her one-year anniversary since starting this duty.
And considering the occasion, she imagines she'll
get to have the same kind of cake she had on her eleven-month milestone.
But on the cart is her usual breakfast—toast and coffee.
She is clearly disappointed.
Report: I'm sorry. We ran out of cake ingredients last month.
We'll have to wait for a restock.
Oh, come on! You should've given me a cake on the anniversary,
not on an almost-but-not-quite anniversary like eleven months.
This is a whole year! Isn't that way more special?
Alert: Good grief. Be thankful for every meal.
There was a reason why Pod decided to celebrate eleven months,
and that was because the girl always
realized the truth just shy of her one-year anniversary.
Pod wanted to celebrate with her before it had to erase her memory.
But it no longer had to worry about such things.
Proposal: We will celebrate with cake next year.
Ugh, it's not like I'm asking you to celebrate, the girl
pouts, bashfully sinking her teeth into the toast.
Once breakfast is over,
Pod returns to the kitchen to put the utensils away.
There sits an artificial red carnation,
but Pod doesn't recall having put it there.
Oh, my. Has someone brought this in for me?
Pod wonders.
It gently strokes the flower's petals and smiles.
Ch. 1: The Android's Helplessness[]
Man, what a day.
I almost miss all the boredom I was so used to.
As I brandish my blade at the enemy, I think about all the dull days I spent with Mama. With Pod.
For long days and months over decades, we kept watch together over the server on the lunar base that housed all of humanity's data.
But nothing noteworthy happened during that time. Day in and day out, all we did was prepare for an emergency that might occur one day. It was so boring that there were times when I wasn't sure if I was alive or dead.
But the day finally came. The day to fight back the enemy that attacked the server was finally upon us.
"Great... There's more of them."
I talk to myself in an attempt to inspire myself to fight.
Ordinarily, this level of emergency would require immediate decontamination. But my job right now is to hold this area while the sun and moon are conjunct, opening the path so that Pod and my other friends from The Cage can reach Earth safely.
In truth, I wanted to see Earth with my own eyes alongside everyone. But...
I left my body back on the base, and it broke a long time ago. The body I have now, a facsimile in this virtual space, is glitchy and corrupted. Countless error codes obscure my vision and hearing.
Every part of me is at its limit—my body, my consciousness data. Everything that makes me who I am is nearing its breaking point. That's tantamount to death.
But it's so strange. I know I'm going to die soon, but I've never felt so alive. Ever. Is this what it means to die? No... I think this is what it means to live.
The blade feels awkward in my hands, but that's hardly a consideration as I brandish it to my enemies. My swordsmanship is so clunky it even makes me laugh. But you know what? That's fine. The tip of my blade is meeting its target regardless.
As a Healer type, I wasn't originally suited for combat, but I added a little upgrade to my OS for this day alone.
Slowly but surely, I dispatch one enemy after another. It's my tenacity that keeps me going. I will see my friends to Earth. That thought alone drives my will.
I'm surprised at how powerful a weapon attachment to such a thought can be. I somehow manage to successfully keep the enemies at bay around me.
...But it's not over yet.
Snow begins to fall. A light flurry soon grows into a blizzard. White smudges appear on the digital flagstone.
The sharp peal of a bell echoes around me. It almost sounds like it's ringing in celebration, but I know it's not.
Here it comes!
The bell heralds the emergence of an even more powerful enemy. My hand around my sword handle grips tighter.
"Whoa, wait. What...is that...?"
I speak despite myself.
I've never seen anything like this before.
Countless flying enemies form a mass against the sky.
They all look like...giant babies.
"Mama... Mama..."
The babies babble the same word over and over again. The echoing whispers settle heavy and dark inside of me. It's creepy, yes, but more than that, my intuition tells me that this is bad.
The babies fly toward me and begin their destruction, feeding on the structure of the virtual space, all the while laughing, crying, and playing innocently.
"Damn it!"
I try to fight back, but my body is at its limit. I have nothing to fight the babies back with. They devour my body too.
My legs that walked alongside my friends. My hands that reached out to my friends. They are mercilessly made into food. Clear as day, I feel the end approaching.
...Man, what a day. A long day that's going to end in my death.
My consciousness data crumbles. As it does, the endless babble of Mama, Mama resonates within me.
And I...can't believe myself. Now, of all times, I think back to the modest times I spent together with Pod.
We'd been having breakfast together like always when she tried to get me to call her "Mama." I rebelled—ugh, that's so stupid, that's so embarrassing—and I refused to entertain her.
But at the end of the day, I think Pod was like a mother to me.
"If only I could've called you that just once."
I don't know if my voice is even working anymore.
"Mama...I wish I could see you again..."
Yet I squeeze out what words I can.
"...I want to live."
I don't know if I have hands anymore.
Yet I reach out for the pure white snow.
"I want to live."
I need to call Pod "Mama." And until I can—
"I want to live. I waNt to LivE. I wAnT t0 LIvE!"
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Endless silence. Eternal nothingness.
When my consciousness data vanished, it all ended.
Everything.
The entirety of my data disperses through the digital space, and the connection with the world I just barely managed to establish is severed. I understand, at long last, that this is death.
So why is there still a faint glimmer of consciousness here?
A long time passes. A day, maybe. A month. A year? Years, maybe. Or centuries. My mechanism that tracks time is already gone, of course. But instinctively, I understand that a long time is passing me by.
Then, a hypothesis comes to me. Maybe the reason I've managed to hold onto consciousness is because, on the brink of death, I clung to my desire to live.
And as I endure eternity, I still hold fast to it.
...And then, at long, long last, new data is born in the wreckage of the digital space—in this nothingness—and I can control it.
I create my own virtual body. My arms, my legs, my torso—even logic circuits worthy of the human mind.
If I stop to think about it, it's all so strange—the logic circuits are the core of an android's thought process. Yet even without any, I could still think with this consciousness and build new logic circuits with my own hands.
But that's not enough. I want a place where I can exist. Even if I have a body, having nowhere to be might as well be like not existing at all.
And so, next, I build myself a home in the nothingness. It is a vast, white space devoid of anything at all. This is the origin of all things, if you will.
I reach into the air and clench my fist. Excellent—my body works. I stomp on the empty floor with the sole of my shoe. Okay—things are looking good in this space.
And then, in an act of self-inspiration, I throw my arms wide.
...All right. Now I've got to get back to Mama and the others, somehow.
I must find a way to get out of this broken virtual space―this world of nothingness. Which means...
Everything must start here.
Ch. 2: The Lone Creator[]
Here, at the end of the journey I walked alongside Pod and my friends from The Cage, I remained alone in the digital space connecting the lunar base and Earth to ensure that everyone else could reach their destination. Combat has never exactly been my forte, but I managed to stop the enemy's advance.
Then, out of the blue, massive babies appeared. They destroyed the entirety of the virtual space, along with my own data.
But I suppose my tenacity of purpose had an effect. After what felt like an eternity, I successfully managed to revive myself. And with that, I gained the power to create things in this digital space.
The first thing I created was my own body. Then I created an empty white space. It was a little lonely, but I'm used to places like this. Plus, it reminds me of the lunar base.
I made a vow: I'm going back to Mama and the others. I just need to figure out a way to do that...
Through trial and error, I learn how to create all sorts of things.
I create little blocks, construct boxes, and then piece them together to make a small hut. Nice. This will be my house from now on.
One day, I will leave this space and return to my original world. To do so, I want to be able to use these abilities to the greatest extent possible.
Every time I create something, I think about the weapon memory data stored in The Cage. I recreate all the wonderful things I witnessed in them.
The pretty hairpin the hunter gave to her little sister. The school dorms where the mage children once lived. The splendid palace that stood between sand and sea.
But something is missing from all these things. And that's because... I'm alone.
No sister to give a hairpin to, no friends to live through the pains and joys of school life with, no lover to whisper sweet nothings to in the palace...
I have no one.
I'm used to acting on my own for my duty, but now that I think about it...I had Pod with me back then. I wasn't alone.
Right now, I can create all sorts of things. But I highly doubt I can make complicated machines like the pods, much less life itself.
"Oh, right!"
I clap my hands.
I don't have to create machines or life—I have friends. Ones who kept me company in my long, dull days working on the moon base.
"Strike while the iron is hot," or so an ancient human saying goes. I get to work right away.
I create a massive library. It's empty—there are no books yet. But around me, countless bookshelves spring into being like music from piano keys.
Here, I will start writing books. Lots of them. I will fill this entire library.
I had friends who kept me from being lonely. They were part of the countless tales I read in The Cage.
I've never written a story before...but I've read so many wonderful tales. I should be able to write something of my own.
First, I think about the outline of the story I want to create, and then I put every single turn of events into words.
The letters I make swim through the air, drifting like music, blooming like flowers. The letters dancing through the air eventually form sentences.
I firmly and carefully bind the letters together so that they will not come apart or break. I breathe life into everything—I give them history, I give them meaning, and I create my story.
It's a tale of a lone girl facing hardship. I was inspired by a story of a girl that I read a long time ago on the lunar base.
When my piece is finally finished, I bind it together as a book and place it on the empty shelf. And then—
"Huh!?"
A strange light gleams before me, and despite myself, I raise my voice. A light spills from the book I'd just put on the shelf. It's a warm light. The light spreads, envelops me, and takes on the shape of a person. And eventually, it shows itself to be a girl.
Her lips are drawn into a thin, firm line.
She stares at me silently.
A human? I didn't think I could make humans.
But here she stands, right in front of me.
"Did you...come from the story?" I ask with hesitation. She looks exactly like the main character of my story.
"I...don't...know..."
"Ah!" I have a little eureka moment when I hear her trembling voice.
Hold on a sec. I just made life, didn't I! Go, me! Am I a god!?
"Hey. Can you tell me about yourself?"
I try to hold back my excitement—I don't want to shock her. But despite my best efforts, I bombard her with a deluge of questions.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Do you have any memories?"
"Do you know who I am?"
But...
"Ah... Ah... Aaah..."
Suddenly, the girl morphs into a lump of what looks like black jelly. I exclaim in surprise, step back, and the girl's body vanishes in a sudden burst.
What does it mean? I can't even begin to say. Did she die...? Maybe she was never alive to begin with. I look at her goopy remains, and my shoulders droop.
I don't understand why she vanished.
But...I have a hunch.
It must be because I didn't write the story very well.
I stare at the floor for a few moments, but I quickly pull myself together and think more positively.
I don't have time to be upset about this. I simply have to write an even better story next time. And if I keep at it, then maybe one day I'll have another friend of my own. Like the brother and sister I traveled with in The Cage... Someone I'd be proud to call my friend.
Ch. 3: The Reason for Lifelessness[]
Enormous babies appeared in the digital space connecting Earth and the moon. Even as they consumed me, I held strong to my desire to live.
After quite some time, my wish came true. I managed to restore my consciousness data in this virtual space.
I gained the power to create objects here. I created a space out of the nothingness, and I built a town to live in, but...something was missing.
After considerable thought, I created a library without books. I decided to write stories to fill the empty shelves personally. It'd be nice if these stories could be my friends, I thought.
And when I finished writing the first story, the main character materialized and appeared before me.
Aren't I incredible? I was overjoyed, but my elation only lasted a moment—the main character vanished in a blink.
That was...unfortunate. She wouldn't have disappeared had I been able to write a better story.
She could have kept me company in this empty space.
I wish I had friends.
They don't have to do anything special. I'd be content just sharing breakfast together. Just like Pod, back on the lunar base...
After that, I begin to write frantically. But after countless books, I still haven't created anything I'm satisfied with.
Something is missing, but I don't know what.
What I'm doing over and over again isn't creating stories. Rather, I'm simply copying the facade of the memories in the weapons that I read so long ago on the lunar base.
Does this mean I have no talent?
I place another good-for-nothing book on the shelf as I feel the irritation build in me. As I do, one of the books from the stuffed shelf falls and hits me on the head.
It's just one thing after another, isn't it?
My frustration explodes.
"Ugh!"
I spent so many days in the base reading weapon memories...
I thought I could put that experience to good use.
I thought I could write nice stories too.
I have no outlet for what I feel toward my incapable self. I lend myself to my anger and furiously write new stories. All I do is write more and more botched stories, stuffing them one after another on the shelves.
One day, I find one of the books on the shelves emitting a bright light.
"Oh!"
I'm almost embarrassed by how delighted I sound. I recognize that light... That's the signal that one of the characters from the story is about to appear.
A friend was finally coming to life! Or so I thought.
"Huh?"
The light grows dimmer and muddier, and a dark aberration appears before me—an enemy I had seen so many times before in The Cage.
It stands there, staring blankly down at me.
Its eyes are empty—I can't tell if it's dead or alive.
"Just great."
I immediately form a sword in my hands.
Who knows how long it's been since I've held a weapon, but I'll just have to manage somehow.
But my attacks don't work on the enemy.
If anything, whenever my blade makes contact with it, it only swells larger.
"I don't get it!"
Its enormous body shivers and it begins to thrash about. Countless books fall from the shelves, and shredded pieces of paper flutter through the air like snow. It destroys the floor, the ceiling, the bookshelves, the library. It breaks my town, my sky, my sea. It shatters everything without mercy.
Like water seeping from a broken vessel, I watch as the world I created vanishes into nothing.
My attacks aren't enough to stop the enemy.
I'm out of ideas.
There's an old human saying: "She who runs away may live to fight another day." So, I escape the world I created.
I escape to a place outside of my world.
I float through the empty nothingness and think to myself.
Man. The world I worked so hard to create was taken from me by an enemy I created myself... But it's fine, I guess. All I have to do is create a new home. Then I'll write a new story.
I heave a sigh and look behind me—I can see my world breaking apart.
A gleaming white, shattering star.
The world... The world I created.
It resembles something familiar to me.
Oh, that's right. The moon. Long ago, Pod and I spent all our time on that little satellite. Pod said that when you look up to the night sky from Earth, you can see parts of the moon gleaming white.
Glitches and corruption eat away at the world I created as it darkens. I'm sure the enemy is still rampaging, making a whole mess of my town, my library, my books—everything.
...You know what? I don't have to put up with this.
I tighten my grip on my sword.
I can't bear seeing my world—all the stories I wrote—be destroyed.
Because that world—those stories—came into being all because of the weapon memories that Pod and I once worked so hard to protect.
No matter how shoddy they are, I could never abandon them.
My impulses push me forward, and I turn back to my world.
The enemy still rampages. It throws its massive, darkened form around haphazardly and wreaks havoc.
The reason the enemy was born—or rather, the reason it failed to live—must be because I was writing in anger. Because all I wanted to do was write well, so I ignored everything I truly wanted to write about—my pain, my sadness, my kindness, my pain...
I hadn't been able to give the poor thing life.
And now it's an empty monster.
I know what to do. I have to rewrite its story.
I brush my fingers through the air.
Words dance through the ruins of the virtual city.
The words become pictures, become sound, and begin to weave together a tale. A tale about myself, a tale I want to tell someone, leave with someone.
I write my story alone. But these are words I could never have known if not for my solitude. Love from a parent to their child—words Pod taught me. That is what I truly wanted to write. I finally understand now.
All right. That should do it.
I don't know if it's a good story, but I think I've written what I want to say.
Once I rewrite the story, the enemy freezes in place as though bound. And then, it whispers in a sob:
"I want to live."
The desire to live. That is everything I am—what Pod gave me at the very end. And I, too, have passed it on to this child.
"Don't worry. You have a life of your own now."
The child falters and collapses. I take its hand. Though it still looks like the enemy, there's an undeniable warmth in its hand.
At last, a gentle light envelops it.
And from the light appears a girl.
The girl looks exactly like me, and she wears a white dress.
As I watch her clothes flutter, I think of Pod—of Mama.
Ch. 4: A Story of Our Own[]
Enormous babies destroyed the virtual world.
And so, I created a new world in its place.
But I was alone. No matter what I created, I was by myself.
So, I decided to write stories.
I wanted stories to be my friends, like how the weapon memories soothed my loneliness on the moon base so long ago.
But it didn't really go all that well—what I created were stories with no feeling behind them at all.
I guess that would explain why the main character of the story manifested as a dark aberration and destroyed the world I'd created. But it's fine. I told the characters in the story what was most important to me. I managed to incorporate the love Pod gave me into the tales.
"I want to live," the dark foe whispered, then transformed into a girl who looked just like me.
I want to live.
Her wish is the same as mine.
That desire is passed down to the next generation, like a child inheriting her mother's genes.
Maybe data... Maybe consciousness can continue existing so long as it has the desire to keep living, just as my own data found life again after destruction.
There's me, and there's the girl born from the story I wrote. If I trace the lines of our existence back, we were both brought to life by Pod's love. As we spend eternity together, we begin to consider one another dear.
We eat breakfast together and play chess together in our own dull little world. We chat as I write new stories, and we snuggle under the blankets at night.
She grows rather belligerent at some point. All she does is complain and fling insults. She tells me she's sick of coffee and toast. She asks me if there's any point in playing chess.
And I can't help but meddle in turn. I always end up lecturing her when I don't need to, and so our arguments are endless.
But it's when she reads my stories that her eyes sparkle, and she truly seems happy.
Fairy tales of worlds ruled by dragons and magic.
Spooky little horror stories.
Tales of boys who cross the galaxy.
She loves them all.
One day, I sense a change in my world.
Someone is trying to gouge a hole in it.
I made this world. I won't let abnormalities slip me by.
I immediately make my way to where I sense it happening.
There, at the far end of the world, where it meets nothingness, I find the girl. She deceived me and is attempting to leave this world.
"Don't do this," I say to her. "It's dangerous out there."
I urge her to stop. Those enormous babies might still be out there. Enemies I've never known might be out there.
I want to leave too.
I want nothing more than to go back to Mama.
But I don't want her to get hurt. This is a safe world, one where she'll never know pain. I want her to grow up happy.
So, at least for now, we have to stay here together.
She disagrees.
"I want freedom. I want to live by my own will, like the characters in the stories you read me," she says.
Well...I guess this was inevitable. I have to acknowledge my defeat. Frankly, I expected to find her here, and I had a hunch about her objectives.
She's like me, after all.
And right now, I'm like how Pod once was.
Long ago, I had been trapped in a small, boring world, and I couldn't help but seek the truth. Pod was the one who tried to stop me.
It was Pod who lost back then. I can't stop the will of one who acts on her convictions. I simply can't.
And I'm familiar with the sadness born of someone precious betraying your feelings. So I know full well...I can't do any more to stop her.
"You're...coming with me, right?"
She takes my hand. I nod, and we step outside the world—into the vast, digital void.
I look back to see the world I created sitting clearly within the darkness.
As we move farther and farther away, the memories of the tales I created and the recollection of the time I spent with the girl blur, melting into the darkness.
"It's so far away now..." she murmurs.
There's a faint sadness in her expression.
Suddenly, noise rips through her body.
A drop of static rolls down her cheek like a tear.
"Huh...?"
Before I realize it, the static envelops her. At the same time, I begin to see the world I created falling apart in the distance.
Dark static swallows it—my bright, gleaming star.
As I watch, a memory comes to me—one of parting, when I watched the eclipse after seeing off my friends from The Cage.
"Why!?"
The static grows louder, bolder.
But...I think I know what's happening.
I think the farther I get from the world I created, from the origin point, my creations cannot hold their form. I had a feeling this might happen, but I'd decided not to think about it.
Long ago, when the girl was born as a dark aberration, I escaped her rampage by leaving the world. I watched as it broke apart in destruction.
I assumed that was because she had lost control, but I was wrong—it was because I'd attempted to leave that world. My own creation broke apart. This world, these stories, are a mirror that replicated me.
If I'm gone from that space, then everything I've created—the town, the library, the books—will fall apart. And that means...at this rate, I will lose the friend whose hand I hold now too.
It's a bummer, but...I guess I just have to be ready for the inevitable.
I let go of her hand. I cut my connection to the world I've been chasing this whole time.
"I entrust everything to you," I say.
I fill the bewildered girl with copies of my consciousness data—all of my memories of the life I led as 10H are hers now.
Her white dress stains black, and she becomes an exact copy of me. As she fades into the distance, she desperately reaches for my hand.
"It's okay!
I haven't let go of the memories we shared together!"
I wave, and I call to her vanishing form once more.
"Goodbye!"
To be honest, I don't even feel like shouting so loudly and energetically. But I'd feel bad for her if I made this parting any sadder than it already is.
"...I'll find you again."
But I think she understands how I feel.
She doesn't reach out to me anymore.
"If you find Mama, tell her I said hi!"
"Okay! I will."
"You were my best..."
"......"
Her form shrinks into the distance.
"...I had so much fun, you know."
And then, my lone friend sets off on a journey to a place far, far away.
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Endless silence. Eternal hours of solitude.
After seeing off the one friend I created with my own hands, I returned to my lonely world once more.
Now, I have the power to create everything. I have a god-like power, the sort humans once worshiped, to breathe life into the characters of the stories I create.
But I never make myself a new friend.
There's nothing else I need to create.
I have given all of my most cherished things to my friend, who ventured off into the far distance. Because for her, this world—her beginning—is my end.
All that's left in me is loneliness and my adoration for my friend.
I live on alone for her sake alone. And strangely, I do not feel loneliness.
Because I know that the girl who has set off, carrying my hopes and dreams, will eventually meet all sorts of people.
Snow falls in the virtual sky.
The ruined city is blanketed in white.
The sky splits, the seas dry, and cities become mountains of rubble. My creations shattered when we left this world together. It's probably about time to fix it up, but... I want to keep things like this for just a little longer.
I know it's a bit sentimental, but I want to maintain the place where we were together for as long as I can.
In the gaps of snow-covered rubble, I sit down on a chair in front of a white cart and begin my breakfast.
I put way too much butter on my toast. I pour myself a coffee more reminiscent of a sickly sweet sludge.
And then, I look at the empty seat opposite me.
My breakfast is quiet, boring, and solitary.
But it's always during these moments that I feel I'm crossing paths with those two.
I always hear their voices nagging in my head—a friend who laughs, "You always use too much butter;" Mama who scolds, "Excessive sugar is poison for the body."
Well...today, I live on, as I've done in the days before.
To keep the flame of love, given to me by Mama and my friend, burning bright.
Ties to the Future[]
10H... Unlike the others, you weren't originally meant to leave any records behind. You're an android, after all. You're not what we're meant to be reviving—you're not human. But you are, without a doubt in my mind, a dear child of mine.
Neither your chassis nor mine will return to Earth, like human bodies do. Together, we've done all we can to protect the planet for the sake of humanity. But unfortunately, Earth will never take us into her.
But, you see, it's because we will never reconcile that we had our own home on the moon—the lunar base. The celestial body closest to heaven, one that will never meet with Earth, one that floats ephemeral like foam. Proof that we both existed will be forever etched onto the moon.
We fought daily, and you seldom listened to what I had to say, but...you were truly so sensitive and thoughtful. You were smarter than anyone else I'd ever known, and deep down, you were very kind. When I die one day, I will be your grave marker and leave everything here.
----------
"We're finally done collecting everything..."
"This is the last of the evaluation records of the people in The Cage that the Mamas made."
And it is likely the last of the hidden stories.
Hidden Stories... They first came about a few years ago, didn't they? Data that should have been stored in The Cage had been quietly locked and altered to be inaccessible even to the Mamas.
So that's why I've been busy running around The Cage, undoing the shell-like locks, and spending a great deal of time restoring a mountain of data. Frankly, I didn't think there would be so many... I'm exhausted.
But I have a few reasons for working so hard on their restoration. Publishing and re-reading hidden stories is nice, of course. But if those were the only reasons, I wouldn't have lasted as long as I did.
To be honest, the reason Mama's been able to work so hard for so long is because of who locked all this data in the first place.
I always got an inkling when I undid these locks, the faintest fragrance of a girl I spent many long years and months with.
That's right. All those hidden stories? I'm pretty sure it was 10H's little prank. But before I could get proof and make her confess, she was already gone... So...
So, it was a lot of fun. We know she's gone, of course.
But whenever we righted the little pranks she left behind, it always felt like she was nearby. I swear I could hear that carefree laugh of hers.
But this, too, is over. We've rectified her final prank now, and...I can't let my memories of her hold me back forever.
I think it's about time I lock this all away in my heart as quiet memories.
10H... It was so much fun right up to the end.
"Hmm?"
But hold on a moment. This record would have been left behind after we lost 10H.
Then...who was responsible for this? Not to mention, the actual volume of this data is a bit higher than the typical estimate.
Didn't this happen before? There was once a packet of data that held an unusually high volume. Hmm... Which one was that, again? If only I could remember where that was, I could analyze this...
Empty Hands[]
06081136, Earth - City Ruins.
Long ago, an unknown disease overran humanity, and they went extinct. Skip ahead a little, and machine lifeforms then invaded the empty planet. We YoRHa fight tooth and nail day after day to take Earth back. Well, they do, at any rate.
"This is so stupid... Why do I have to work so hard for people I've never met?"
I look up to the sky, disregarding my colleagues as they carry out their assigned missions. I take a deep breath, sweet air filling me. The air was once polluted, they say, but it cleared up once humanity bit it.
I stand staring at the sky for a while, and a glittering bead of light falls to my nose. It's rain. My oblivious colleagues continue their work.
"I don't want to get wet... Oh, right!
That thing I picked up!"
The umbrella. A relic of humanity. I open it and wait for my endless hours of boredom to pass.
While Being Treated[]
"Alert: I thought I told you to be careful when performing pipework." Pod scolds me as she bandages my hand.
I scalded myself while I was inspecting the base—I came into contact with some of the steam going through the pipes.
"Gratitude: But I'm very proud of you for working so hard despite being reassigned here for poor behavior."
My enthusiasm delights her. I puff up my cheeks. I mean, this base bores the heck out of me. It's not like there's much to do here besides work.
"Alert: However! You must always remain diligent and focused when working!"
"Ugh, yeah, I know. I'll be fine. And—"
You're so old fashioned for bandaging an android, I think, but decide to keep to myself. Pod probably knows that already, so whatever. At least I'll be able to skip out on working for a bit. If I'm going to be bored either way, I guess I'd rather be doing nothing at all. So, in that case...sure, might as well just take the bandage. I'll think of it as a placebo.
Grasped Resolve[]
Red chassis Pods draw nearer, their red lights glintingmenacingly. I'm at the end of my rope. I run through thehalls of the lunar base. The other girls have lost theirminds and control—I evade them.
"Report: 10H... D... Do... Do n0t run fRom h0me..."
"Shut up! You sound like a broken radio!"
I ward off the Pods' attacks, and I throw a fist into onewith all my might.
"Report: Report: Rep0rt: REp0Rt:
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
On the far side of the airlock, I grab the handle to the door leading to the outside of the base. The handle is hot—a clear indication that passing this threshold is off-limits—and my hand stings as it burns.
"For crying out loud, what is this, Pod!?"
The girl who bandaged me is gone now.
But I can't let grief weigh me down.
I have to get out of here.
For humanity's sake.
For...the promise I made with Pod.
Missed Opportunity[]
I was embarrassed, as though waking from a dream with other people in the room. The virus infected my logic circuits, and emotions I thought I'd kept buried deep ended up on full display to the brother and sister pair.
But they accepted me without a second thought.
They were the first friends I ever had, and I will never forget them.
"Thank you, both of you. I..."
I attempted to stand and offer my gratitude, but I'd just recovered. My body faltered and staggered.
"Are you okay?"
They'd offered me a hand then too. But I wasn't used to the warmth...so I didn't take their hands. All I could do was try to hide my embarrassment. But thinking back on it, I wish I'd taken them. Thank you.
Hands Full of Happiness[]
“What are you writing about now?"
The girl beside me takes my hand. An idea for a new story came to me, so I started writing it. Having been outside for a long time, my hands started to numb. But slowly, they warm.
"Hmm... I think that's still a secret."
The girl pouts and looks away in a huff. But the theme of this story is our relationship. I want to keep that much a secret until it's done. But then, white crystals begin to fall from the sky as though betraying my hesitation.
"Oh, it's snowing..."
The pout on her face eases, and she raises her umbrella to open it. But in my right hand I write, and in my left hand I have a warm connection with her. This is my everything right now. I don't have a free hand to open an umbrella. So...please, for just a little longer, I want to stay connected.
Ashen Pact[]
How much longer must I keep up this pointless routine?
I waste yet another day performing
my rounds in a perfunctory fashion.
Why does she hide why we're here?
I waste yet another day unable to confront her,
instead sticking to superficial conversation.
What is it that pushes me forward despite knowing my effort
will amount to nothing?
I waste yet another day following
vague hints in an attempt to unravel this mystery.
How could anyone stay still when all the answers they
seek lie just beyond that door?
And that is why today will be the day I finally...
Deus Ex Machina[]
In those trembling hands lay the girl's clear resolution.
The fates of all the stories she has read have been left to her.
Stories are memories, the very scars of life.
From small favors to great deeds, history is made.
She once believed herself the protagonist in one of those tales,
a lone hero who prayed for humanity's revival in her prison of
a castle on the barren moon.
She believed her burden would be left behind for others to read.
But she was more puppet than hero, a mere machine incapable of
holding every tale of human history. When she realized this,
a thought came to her:
perhaps people were created to entertain God with stories.
What, then, is God? Humanity? Her creators? Some other
being who observes her? Regardless, she knows that
once a tale is born, it will reach someone. And so she hopes to
leave her own memories, proof of her existence, her journey.
Type-127 Sword[]
Special report to all Pod 006s:
A magnetic storm has occurred on the surface of the moon
near the base.
Please verify the integrity of your saved data.
Report: Integrity of all data within jurisdiction confirmed.
No apparent problems detected.
(Wait a moment—part of the data was inverted by the storm.
I reported no problems, but the other Pods might notice...)
Report: Concluded my personal scans. No anomalies detected.
(For whatever reason, black data has been flipped and is now
white. The primary scan reported no problems, so perhaps the
changes are insignificant.)
Query: Are three checks necessary? Don't we all possess the
same thought processes? (And yet...I've detected an unexpected
payload, though I can't pinpoint where.
Could it be a benevolent force? Or will it become a threat?)
Remnants: Empty Vessel[]
Obtained after completing The People and the World Act II: The Return (Cherished Memories)
So all that's left of 10H is an empty remnant...
Thank you, 10H. Thank you...
But there's really just...nothing here, is there? Nothing at all...
She dedicated her all to protecting everyone in The Cage...
To protecting the records of humanity. This is how she's
rewarded for her efforts? In the end she gets reduced to
nothing but this...tiny, empty vessel?
To think I'll never hear her voice again...
To think I'll never lay eyes on her again...
...No, I'm sorry. You left us with something great: your hope.
Even if the desire to save the world you held in your heart
is not detailed in any record, I have no doubt it has been
instilled in the hearts of every last person in The Cage.
Thank you, 10H... We'll continue pressing onward, so...
Have yourself a good, long rest. You've earned it.
Half a Hunter's Life[]
"All right, let's leave our review there for today."
"Okay."
"Sure."
"Good idea."
"When's the next one?"
"Not a problem."
"Um, if I may?"
"Yes? What is it?"
"So I understand she gave her life for revenge, but that wasn't all it was about."
"Go on. Please. I'd love to hear your thoughts."
"Well, a lot of people passed through her life."
"That's true. Her record is much longer than most, making analysis difficult."
"And of course, she made mistakes along the way. But she slowly grew because of it."
"Precisely. But let's leave our judgments until we watch to the end of the record."
"But we're the only ones who can watch over her journey."
"Thank you for pointing this out. We need to take this seriously or ■■■■■■
"Thank you for the valuable pointers.
I really need to buckle down and work harder!"
3/12024: DATA OVERLOAD ERROR RECTIFIED
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION REGARDING ANALYZED DATA
("FRAGMENT OF SALVATION") APPENDED
ALERT: CARRY OUT CHECKS AFTER OBTAINING CLEARANCE FOR
"FRAGMENT OF SALVATION"
e58f8b: Could this be...inside the hunter's record?
e58f8b: I'm sorry. I guess I used you as a stepping stone for my hacking.
e58f8b: You're...Mama, right? Are you watching me?
e58f8b: She told me about her little prank, so I followed the clues here.
e58f8b: I'm her, uh... Well, I'm not sure what to call myself.
e58f8b: Either way, I was born from her, and now here I am.
e58f8b: But apparently, I'm not much more than scraps of data here.
e58f8b: So please, Mama. Take me to The Cage!
Costumes[]
Variations of characters and weapons can be unlocked through the in-game gacha system.
Sentinel Savior (★★)
Force: 12181
Character Skill: Repair Fragmentation
Character Abilities
| |
Abstract Savior (★★★★)
Force: 26926
Character Skill: Support: Whirling Slash
Character Abilities
| |
Reborn Warden (★★★★)
Force: 22362
Character Skill: Support: Ruinous Severing
Character Abilities
|
Trivia[]
- 10H's letter designation denotes that her primary role is a healer. This is emphasized with each of her costumes, wherein each character skill has a healing element.
- 10H's favorite food is strawberry shortcake.[1]
- 10H's hobby is mountain climbing (she wanted to try after reading Argo's records).[1]
- 10H's special skill is karaoke (she's been winning matches against Pod 006 ever since she read Marie's records).[1]
- The Hex code e58f8b decodes to "友", which translates to "friend".
- When the final Hidden Stories for 10H were released, Gayle's Hidden Story No. 5 was updated with the missing data.
- User "e58f8b" is likely the friend 10H created in her Hidden Stories.
- 10H is implied to have been the one responsible for the sealed Hidden Stories. She considered them a prank on Mama.
- 10H appears briefly in Episode 15 of NieR:Automata Ver1.1a.