Beep! (2)
"Beep! System rebooting. Recognizing user...... Loading language...."
System Reboot Complete
The silver-haired girl with a body of steel turns her head to look at Cliche. Her white pupils flicker for a moment.
"...Wha? That guy... really... somethin' else... looks so... empty~~"
"I've never seen a civilization that wears clothes like that before."
Hotse and Unicef gaze at the silver-haired girl in fascination as well. Her body is made entirely of black steel. In place of ears, sharp steel horns protrude. On her chest is an unidentified glowing blue circle, and below it, on her abdomen, hangs a large pouch reminiscent of a kangaroo's.
Registration and Synchronization Complete
Finally, the steel girl rises to her feet and stares at Cliche, who is about the same height as her.
Did you wake me up?
Cliche replies with a bewildered expression.
"Who are you?"
My name is AlphaGo. I am the last legacy of a civilization from 400 million years in the past. Beep!
The silver-haired girl with a steel body is named AlphaGo. Fiddling with her metal ears, she says,
Purifier system malfunction. Someone pulled my antenna. Physics engine error.
Water soon gushes out from AlphaGo's ear—gurgle, gurgle.
The orcs, witnessing this, all bow in worship to AlphaGo.
"Ooh! Coway God!"
The atmosphere in the temple grows reverent once more. They truly revere AlphaGo as a deity. After all, the orcs had been about to perform a rain ritual for her.
Roin strokes her chin thoughtfully.
"She does seem like no ordinary being. Spouting water from her ears... No mana at all, so it's not magic either..."
AlphaGo, digging at her leaking ear, responds,
Ah, this is a purifier. It purifies water.
"...Where does the water come from?"
Physics engine error. Water in the machine. Unable to respond.
"...You're dodging the tricky questions, aren't you? Are you really a relic from an ancient civilization?"
In response, AlphaGo begins pulling various objects from the pouch on her abdomen to prove herself.
I have proof. Introducing relics of the forgotten ancient civilization!
"Ooh!"
Everyone's eyes light up with curiosity at AlphaGo's words.
Ah, this is a pencil. Wood with a lead core inside. For writing.
Ah, this is a chair. For sitting and resting.
Ah, this is chocolate. Sweet and delicious.
Ah, this is a book. Paper with writing to record information.
Ah, this is lying down. When tired, lie on the ground to rest.
. .
After hearing AlphaGo's various explanations, Roin wears a baffled expression.
"These are all things that exist in this world too?"
Is that so?
AlphaGo looks utterly dejected.
The doctor who created me said that in a distant future, my items would be treated as wondrous artifacts. But apparently not. Then things like lightsabers and railguns are useless too, I suppose.
AlphaGo pulls out strangely shaped metal lumps and sighs once before stuffing them back into her abdominal pouch.
Watching this, Hotse asks,
"You... that glowin'... thing on yer... chest... wha' is it?"
This is an arc reactor.
"The one... on yer... belly...?"
This is a 4th-dimensional pouch.
"Seems like... all sorts o'... stuff crammed in there..."
Just your imagination.
Cliche asks AlphaGo again.
"You said you came from 400 million years in the past? Then who were your creators—your parents?"
AlphaGo speaks in a monotonous tone.
Beep! It was the year X058 AD. The world plunged into chaotic doom from global warming, meteor impacts, pandemics, nukes, influenza, mama, wars, and more. All changes began when I was in LA, turning once a year, and anyone who hears this world-story must tell another within 4 months... [SKIP]......
Overwhelmed by the excessively verbose explanation, Cliche instinctively taps the SKIP button that appears in AlphaGo's eye.
AlphaGo then gives a much abbreviated version.
I am a 'vault' created by the world's greatest scholar on the eve of extinction to preserve all species and civilizations.
"The world ended? Why?"
Memory partially corrupted. But I remember sea levels rose drastically from global warming, flooding the world. I sank into the ocean too.
Everyone turns to look at Unicef upon hearing this.
Unicef waves her hands frantically in denial.
"I-I didn't do it! I never started a fire that big! Besides, 400 million years ago, even my grandfather wasn't born yet!"
"Hmm, true enough."
Cliche turns his gaze back to the mechanical girl AlphaGo.
"......"
AlphaGo stares blankly at Cliche.
Finally, she speaks to him.
First time seeing this species. What species are you?
"......I'm a dragon. A draconian."
Registered. Collect sample? YES / OK
The word YES appears in AlphaGo's eye. She reaches to pluck a single strand of Cliche's hair.
But—
Ting......
Cliche's hair merely stretches taut but doesn't come out.
Strong resistance detected! Physics engine error!
Frustrated that Cliche's hair won't yield, AlphaGo begins trembling. Despite the "physics engine error," it just looks like she's shaking with anger.
"What the hell? Why are you trying to yank my hair out?"
Action for species preservation. Requesting cooperation.
Hearing this, Hotse gulps down her liquor and bursts into laughter.
"Pfft... wha'... sounds so... lewd~~?"
"Do you have a pervert demon possessing your head? So filthy."
"The... demon... ain't you...?"
As Unicef and Hotse bicker again, AlphaGo subtly blends into Cliche's party.
Someday, I will collect your sample.
The party members exchange brief glances at the steel girl making her stoic vow.
"Eh, doesn't really matter, does it?"
"Use her... as a water... shuttle~~"
"Ho ho ho. I like when more people join. It's so lively."
"I'm fine with it too."
Cliche, Hotse, Unicef, and Roin all nod.
Thus, AlphaGo officially joins Cliche's party.
Her expression remains blank, but she seems subtly pleased.
"The woman in the unforgettable rain......"
She hums a cheesy, outdated tune as she follows Cliche and the others. The half-ruined temple stands tall, as if bidding farewell to the departing AlphaGo.
* * *
Far from the temple, in the desert.
Crackle—crackle—
The sound of a campfire drumming in their ears. The desert night, beautifully lit by moonlight, feels quite cozy.
Shwaak—
Roin unfolds the map she received from the orcs.
"Let's see, our current position is here, so about three days left to where I used to live! We're almost there!"
But no one pays much attention to Roin's words. Only Cliche peers intently at the map. Hotse is passed out drunk, Unicef is knitting a sweater, and AlphaGo is spraying some strange canister labeled WD on her body.
"Sigh. Whatever."
Roin has no intention of trying to control these party members. She simply trusts Cliche.
Cliche, studying the map, asks Roin,
"Just keep going straight like this?"
"Yeah. The desert's almost over. We just cross the border into the Holy Kingdom of Singmulgur ahead, and then we'll be in my country, Rok."
Cliche nods at Roin's words. He's been sensing it already—the scent of home growing stronger. The faint dragon aroma from far away. Following it will surely lead back to his beloved family's embrace.
The destination is right around the corner. Get there quick, crown Roin as queen, raid the warehouse, and done.
As Cliche swells with anticipation—
Whooooosh—
a fierce wind suddenly kicks up.
"...Sand... storm...?"
Hotse stops snoring, rubs her eyes, and sits up.
[......Kill! ......Demon! ......Praise! ......To Hell!]
Eerie cries carried on the wind. The rhythm and pitch don't match at all, making it hard to discern, but upon close listening, it's a song. Coming from far away. Accompanied by the harsh twang of some stringed instrument. A grating, unpleasant sound.
"Who the hell's... ghost... screamin' in the... dead o' night...? Damn... yellow bastard~~"
Hotse grumbles and draws her sword.
Craaaack!
Crimson aura blazes to life, slicing the swirling sandstorm clean in two.
"Ah! Look over there!"
Roin points with wide eyes beyond the severed sandstorm.
"Ho ho."
Cliche nods as well.
As the storm clears and the hazy sand settles, the revealed sight.
Beyond the dune where Cliche's group gathers looms something enormous. An endlessly long and tall wall. The border of the Holy Kingdom of Singmulgur.