A Success Born of Coincidence 4: Originium Memory Experiment!
A Success Born of Coincidence Clarus spent a good while losing his mind before he finally began to calm down from his excitement.
There were four words to describe the feeling of already having the script in your hands: Victory was assured.
More importantly, he now had the chance to personally take part in the story of his favorite game—and perhaps even change that imperfect future.
Clarus wasn’t merely excited.
Somewhere deep down, he even felt strangely honored to be a part of it.
As for whether Lowlight was secretly an Observer, or whether there was some higher narrative layer above all of this…
Whatever.
At least from the future he knew, nothing like that had directly interfered with the course of the story yet.
That meant Clarus still had plenty of time and plenty of opportunities to keep his head down, build up his strength, gather allies, and eventually face those future final bosses together.
Forget everything else— N18 Demon King Amiya with the XL Egg alone could probably rip the heads off those so-called Observers, couldn’t she?
She could observe the multiverse, directly communicate with higher narrative layers, and even call in Qui’lon, Papa Patriot, Theresis, and the whole gang until the higher narrative itself started sweating bullets…
Drop Demon King Amiya into Marvel and she could probably throw hands with the Vishanti.
And he was supposed to be afraid of some measly Observer?
Send that thing flying!
Nymph the History-Spinner’s stocks just kept going up!
And you better not actually be Lowlight!
If it really was Lowlight, Clarus would have his daughter crawl straight through the internet cable and beat his ass!
Go, little donkey!
Fate’s Finale!
Clarus rubbed his hands together, anticipation slowly building.
“Hmm…
Going by what they said, those two scientists from the previous human civilization experimented on me—and succeeded.” “With humanity’s technological level back then, and considering how proud those researchers were of the result…” “Doesn’t that mean my cheat has finally arrived?” He waited.
“…But why can’t I feel anything?” Clarus scratched his head.
“I mean, yeah, having other people experiment on me is definitely weird and kind of uncomfortable…” “But as long as the cheat you gave me is broken enough, I’ll forgive you!” The System silently listened to Clarus finish his rant before dutifully resuming the video.
The lanky researcher continued his explanation.
“To be precise, human memories are fundamentally a form of information.
And Originium is capable of recording that information.” “However, the amount of information contained within Originium is enormous.
If that much information were poured into you all at once, the information belonging to your own memories could be instantly buried beneath the ocean of data.” “When people outside are flooded with all that useless Originium information, they usually end up becoming idiots…
or lunatics.” The lanky researcher spread his hands and pointed toward the piece of Originium embedded in the center of the hibernation chamber.
“So we wrote an enormous set of programs and stored them inside designated Originium crystals.” “The system is divided into two key components— the ‘Anchor’ and the ‘Net.'” “The Anchor program marks the information corresponding to your memories.
Then the Net program searches through Originium’s shared ocean of information for those marked memories.” “Basically…
finding a needle in an ocean.” The lanky researcher sighed helplessly and pointed toward the bookshelves beside him.
“There was simply too much data.
An incomprehensible amount of it.” “When we first started, you could let entropy increase all the way to the heat death of the universe and still never find a single person’s memories.
Once someone’s memory information was thrown into Originium’s information sea, finding it again really was like searching for a needle in an ocean.” “So we tried again.” “And again.” “And again.” “Every attempt made the process faster.
But then came all the other problems.” “How do you extract memory information without leaving anything behind?” “How do you extract information buried within the subconscious?” “And once you’ve extracted it, how do you inject those memories back into a human being without damaging that ridiculously delicate brain of theirs…?” “Fortunately, another research team had some incredibly talented people working on the extraction and reinjection side of things.” The researcher thought for a moment.
“I think the one leading them was called…
Priestess?” He shook his head in admiration.
“What a genius.” “She was already close to solving most of those problems.
Her team mainly handled extracting and reinjecting the information.” “Our job was different.” “We studied your memory information itself—what happened to it once it entered Originium, and how we could locate it again afterward.” The lanky researcher let out a long sigh.
“It was hard.
Really, really hard.” There was a hint of melancholy in his voice.
Even Clarus, sitting in front of the screen, couldn’t help clicking his tongue in amazement.
He didn’t really understand the technical details.
But even he could tell just how unbelievably difficult the process must have been.
And more importantly, this was clearly the true essence of their research.
Of course, there was one name in there he understood perfectly well.
Priestess.
He really hadn’t expected this.
Did that mean Priestess had indirectly saved his life?
Inside the recording, the lanky researcher composed himself again.
His ordinary-looking colleague reached over and patted him on the shoulder.
“Still…
Your situation was genuinely incredible.” “And extremely convenient for our experiments.” “Normally, when someone enters a vegetative state, their consciousness and memories don’t simply disappear.” “They remain buried deep within the subconscious in large, intact sections, waiting for the person to awaken before resurfacing.” “You were different.” “You were affected by that ‘Hibernation’ Project.
“And for reasons we still don’t understand, the energy source inside your hibernation apparatus somehow transformed into Originium.” “Because of your prolonged exposure to that Originium, fragments of your memories were gradually recorded within those pieces of Originium.” “But because of how old the facility was, everything had remained buried inside an enclosed environment for all those years.” “The Originium there never exchanged information with the wider Originium information network outside.” “Instead, it independently stored fragments of your memories…
and then fell dormant.” The lanky researcher suddenly grew animated.
“My God.
It was practically an opportunity handed to us by heaven!” “By studying those isolated pieces of Originium that contained nothing but fragments of your memories, we were finally able to determine what an individual’s memory information actually looks like inside Originium!” “And once we knew that, we could dramatically improve the precision of the Anchor!” “We could mark your memory information with absolute accuracy!” His face lit up.
“Our research finally succeeded!” Clarus watched the researcher’s excited expression with complicated emotions.
Everything beneath heaven— every event in a person’s life— was filled with coincidences.
The lanky researcher burst out laughing.
But the longer he laughed…
the more tears began rolling down his face.
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” “We can’t send the information out.” “The Observers have blocked every form of communication available to us in this region.” “They’re just waiting for the extermination to begin.” “Half a lifetime spent on this…
and in the end…” “Heh.” The ordinary-looking researcher sat down on the table behind him.
He didn’t care that priceless research documents were piled across its surface.
He simply used them as a coaster for his freshly brewed cup of tea.
He took a quiet sip.
Yet the expression on his face was one of indescribable relief.
The lanky researcher stared directly into the camera, his expression suddenly serious.
“Buddy.
Tell us something.” “Is this really fair?” Clarus didn’t know how to answer.
Or perhaps…
even if he did answer, there would be no way for those two respectable researchers to ever hear him.
And suddenly, Clarus understood something.
So that’s what a person looked like when they’d already decided to die.
The lanky researcher smiled freely.
“The Sarcophagus arrived.” “But I don’t really want to use it anymore.” “A person spends their whole life fighting for that one breath—for that one thing they refuse to give up on.” “Once you’ve finally won that fight…
that breath leaves you too.” He chuckled.
“I guess that’s what they call having no regrets left.” “Before we go, we’ll do one last good deed.” “We’ll save you, our ancient popsicle who’s already been asleep for thousands of years.” “No idea how much longer you’ll sleep after this.” “Maybe there are still flaws in our experiment, and you’ll never wake up at all.” The ordinary-looking researcher stood.
He walked over and stood beside the lanky man.
“But if you do wake up…
we’d like to ask you for one thing.” “One last thing.” The two researchers looked at each other.
Then they smiled together.
“We’ll take one final look at the world of our era for you.” “And you…
take a look at the future for us.” …
TL: Sob It’s so peak…
but where’s my action and stuff, ACTION!