Empire Civil War 5

To prove Klaus's theory, I prepared an experiment. I summoned two AIs from cyberspace with a hardcore maid concept.

Five copies of V greeted me in sequence right before my eyes. Five identical maids bowing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in unison—adorable. These were the subjects for the first experiment.

"...You've been playing around with things like this inside your brain?"

Cashian Chairman, who had dived into cyberspace with me, stared at V in astonishment.

"In the future, you won't need a secretarial office—you'll have a maid quarters."

The old man's half-dead in reality, but spry as ever in cyberspace. If he's got time to tease, he should help with the experiment.

"That's not the point."

I snapped my fingers, pulling up Klaus's research data. Personality fusion is basically insane on principle. Anyone can tell that smashing different people together just breaks everything. But I've already undergone fusion once. The me who died at 19—or so I thought—and the me who lived through the Alphabet War. The two merged without issue.

But that's because they were essentially the same person. You could argue they diverged on different paths, but calling them identical isn't wrong either. Plus, my mind has V as a safeguard.

With a proven success case like "me," we don't need to deny personality fusion outright. But the paper talks about linking five or more different people into one. It even claims this can be stabilized as collective intelligence.

With my AIs, testing this is easy. First, narrow the gap between the experiments. Vs are AIs—all clones. Failure to fuse would be weirder. So for this test, give each V something "different."

"I'm giving you each a random 1.8 million-character code."

If the paper's "integration module" works as theorized, the fused V should perfectly retain all 9 million characters. And distinguish whose code was whose. Even if split back into five Vs, each 1.8 million chars must be preserved perfectly—not a single character missing or altered. That's proof of "intact personality" and 100% lossless split/fusion.

"Alright, main V."

The real V, waiting in standby, shot her hand high into the sky.

"You'll verify each code's integrity."

Now, fuse them per the paper's method.

"Let's see..."

Ignore V spouting vulgarities in my ear. The clone Vs' data blocks began intersecting and stacking neatly. Five times a normal V's size. The integration module tidies it into form.

The completed fused V looked identical to the original.

The main body stepped forward. Fused V immediately provided data.

Meaning it perfectly remembered the 9 million chars in 1.8 million chunks. Experiment one: success. The integration module's theory holds.

Second experiment immediately. "Z?"

Did she read my mind about them being cute? The Z clones raised hands and greeted just like the Vs.

They were about to bicker again, so I pushed ahead with the test. This time, fuse five Zs, run some programs, then split. Replicating Erebus management and rest cycles.

The five Zs merged into one. Z ran around the library, activated programs a few times, then split. Main Z verified code integrity.

"Ho..."

Klaus made solid tech. Collective intelligence. Used right, it could surpass history's geniuses.

Then Cashian tilted his head. Something wrong? No one knows Erebus like him. I asked immediately.

"Problem?"

"How about one more experiment?"

"How?"

"Erebus never shuts down."

Valid point. Erebus hasn't rested a second since creation. So it runs during fusions/splits.

"Z, pull a compute-heavy program. Anything."

A book dropped into my hand. Pi calculator. Perfect—infinite compute load.

"Run this while fusing three Vs and two Zs."

Z sounded offended.

"...Three Vs and three Zs."

"So all those behaviors are results of 'learning' from living with you?"

I gritted my teeth and ignored the Chairman's pitiful gaze. I'm the aggrieved one here. Did I tell them to learn that?

Activate the program, stressing my brain artificially. Then fuse six clone AIs via integration module.

Real V and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Z approach the completed V-Z for verification.

Damage occurred.

V and Z warned me in turn. I accepted and deleted the fused V-Z.

"Even fusing machines takes tweaks. Trying it with humans is madness."

Cashian said, viewing the results.

"Human brains can't multitask inherently."

I knew that. Human brains don't multitask—they task-switch rapidly. Brains excel at focus. In focus mode, people ignore calls, lose body sensations, even pain. Artificially inducing "forgetting" and "censoring." Unacceptable in personality fusion.

"Your AIs compute off your brain. Even a genius like you takes 7-9% damage from pi calc."

What if an average human enters Erebus? Can they fuse and compute simultaneously?

"Multitasking a super-system dwarfing human brains like Erebus? Fascinating."

No way it's possible.

"Klaus couldn't test this—no Erebus-scale system exists. Unless you have AIs like hers."

"Chairman, what if a self-destroyed human enters Erebus?"

"Probably... rapid collapse."

Erebus won't crash immediately without admins—safety nets hold. We've calculated time to collapse start. Now, recalibrate to full collapse.

Erebus collapse in: 8 hours, 12 minutes, 17 seconds.

My mosaic mask hid us from outside view.

"Yes, all done."

"On my way."

Erebus is in danger. Gotta move fast.

"Lady Maria, we've heard the rough outline."

Upon arriving at command, Alpha and the staff rushed out to greet us. I emerged from the fridge pod to talk face-to-face.

"Those filthy heretic scum targeting Chairman..."

Hardly recovered, Cashian—barely more than a patient—was rushed to field hospital by medic corps. Meanwhile, Alpha and staff sought my input.

"Lady Maria, just give the order. Strike HQ or retreat—we obey."

The call's mine. And my request was set.

"Erebus is at risk. Leave Klaus be, it'll collapse."

"Humanity's holy relic falls?"

"Yes. Holy Legion to HQ—crush all foes, reclaim Erebus."

"Time left?"

"About 8 hours now."

Alpha nodded, madness glinting in his eyes. Staff exchanged looks, madness spreading.

"You all heard."

"Yes, Legion Commander!"

"Holy Legion—all hands, battle prep!"

"Battle prep!"

Chants echoed as cyberspace thrummed. Alpha's orders raced data nets to all units. War machines stirred.

"Annihilate approaching foes first. Time's short."

"...Approaching units?"

"Yes, Lady Maria. Radar shows ~20,000 hostiles inbound."

20k? Two divisions.

"Our legion can trample them. It'll cost time, but..."

"Wait—hold on."

Ayaka, till now drone-taxi, stepped up.

"Holy Legion... don't we outnumber them overwhelmingly?"

"Correct, Apostle."

"Do they really want to fight us?"

"...Apostle, what are you saying?"

"I'll talk it out. Saves time to HQ, right?"

Alpha glanced at me. I nodded instantly.

"Ayaka, I trust you."

The Iran branch general commanding combat troops was already crumbling mentally.

Klaus, you mad bastard.

Block Holy Legion? Insane. We're mostly infantry; they're mechanized. 70k strong—all elite mech divisions. Hover-rigs, missile arty, EW units, support arms. Can't block. Clash means shatter.

But stand idle as Klaus faction? Princess wins: purge. Klaus wins: purge. We're expendable— just trip 'em up.

"Fuck..."

No-win suicide. His mind tore apart.

Holy Legion commed first. He received like thrusting head into guillotine.

Not Alpha—but a woman appeared.

Negotiations? Talk it out? Hope flickered for the general.

"If I don't approach... Klaus kills me."

"..."

Ayaka showed a diagram: tanks cresting a hill.

"Fool Klaus...?"

Whoever wins—Klaus or Princess—general's safe. Lifeline tossed.

"Proof... one shred. What if you open path then ambush?"

He clung desperately. Then Neige appeared beside Ayaka.

"I'll ride lead vehicle through your lines. You could kill me if you want. Right?"

Legion'd shred him mid-act, but mutual retaliation eases his mind.

"...Deal."

No fool would miss the wordplay.

"Right... yeah."

Tension drained; weary relief.

"...I lost."

At least he and his unit survived the civil war.

Holy Legion's tanks, APCs, flyers carried 70k troops surging forward. 2100s elite legion maneuver—spectacular sight.

Iran troops watching afar like primitives seeing modern tech. Good they're not moving—secures non-combatants left rear.

Ayaka, Saints, wounded—all safe rear. Cashian stubborn; rode armored rear with us.

From lead vehicle, I messaged Ayaka thanks.

"Ayaka, ETA HQ ~1 hour. Leaves ~7. Time you bought."

Ayaka's noble tone. Recalled her childhood dream: be the best.

"Got it."

From command vehicle, eyeing Alpha coordinating troops:

"I'm so lucky. Met only good people."

"I believe it's natural."

"Why? Chosen one?"

"Because Lady Maria is good."

Alpha turned, smiled.

"Rare soul nowadays. You've spread true good influence 7 years. Natural result."

1 hour to HQ. Heading to war with good folk.

Sensing unease, Alpha ventured:

"Great power, great responsibility. Remember we follow you willingly."

"..."

"If anxious, here's good gear."

Alpha sent data: special APC info.

"Legion EW vehicle. Beyond basic dive chairs."

Holy Legion EW dive-chair APC. Model: Constellation. Real gear at last.

"Lady Maria, humbly request: cyberspace is yours."

I got it. Knows my burden—join battlefield, minimize deaths. Perfect pitch.

"Don't worry. No one beats me at EW."

"I know well."

Alpha manipulated command screen, showed me.

"Lady Maria, we have reclaim plan if HQ falls. Explaining now."

I focused. Op name: Purification.

Klaus eyed Erebus, thinking.

Chairman snatched. Princess alive. Holy Legion rushing HQ.

But 7 hours left. 5 hours since coup—huge defenses up. Techs finishing Erebus tweaks.

Still winnable. Elites or not, her strength irrelevant. Collective of hundreds of thousands unbeatable.

Klaus's life lesson, ironclad.

"...Sir Klaus, soon."

Battle imminent.

"...Princess, come."

He resolved, holstering mags.

Desert horizon: missile barrage launches. HQ AA fires interceptors, painting sky deadly—but hack codes from missiles overwhelm nets briefly.

Outer defenses crumble under missiles. Far off, armor horde charges HQ.

Nearby defenders resist—but tanks pierce armor-forward. Holy Legion arrives.

APCs disgorge infantry clashing foes fiercely. Tanks shatter lines, push inward.

AA down—hover-rigs swarm, breach walls, drop troops.

Building a warzone—Legion unrelenting.

Alpha's voice rallies:

ImmuneWire HQ rooftop. Hover-rigs land massive APC: Constellation. EW dive-chair beast.

Neige inside—effect instant.

Cyberspace sky dyes snow-white, Neige's mark.

Final battle deciding ImmuneWire's fate begins.

Erebus collapse in: 7 hours, 1 minute, 14 seconds.