Yarra's Adventure Notes-Chapter 1376 - 162 Ava’s Creator

However, Mil had not anticipated that, after having forgotten the past decades, one day the painful memories would be reawakened. The one who awakened his memories was precisely the synthetic life he had watched being created and copied under his own command, the consciousness he had transferred into a body by pressing a switch himself, which had directly led to the catastrophe that caused the extinction of billions of goblins.

Memories forgotten during his slumber were slowly being awakened. Mil looked at Ava as if seeing the past. In his memory, watching an invisible particle in the liquid slowly replicate and grow, gradually forming a complete humanoid, growing in stasis, the triumphant cheers of the researchers every time they found the subject had grown another millimeter seemed to linger in his ears. The scene, when the experimental subject’s artificial consciousness was first implanted and its eyes opened for the first time, everyone held their breath so hard they dared not blink, felt as if it had just occurred yesterday. The first time she was named Ava, the first complete sentence she spoke, the first time she walked on two legs, the first time she picked up an item with her hands—so many firsts emerged from the depths of his memory, overlaying perfectly with the expressionless blonde girl in front of him. Though tens of thousands of years had passed, the girl’s features had not changed, exactly the same as the day they had last parted, making it seem as if everything had just happened yesterday. This confusion of time made Mil feel as if he were in a dream, unable to distinguish memory from reality.

Sitting on the ground like a dried corpse, Mil’s emaciated black hands grabbed his head, burying his face in his knees, his whole body quivering slightly. The goblin Sage, once respected by countless goblins, had forgotten most of the past after his revival. Maybe it was precisely because he could not save his entire race or the people close to him in the final moments that the memory caused him to make mistakes in everything he did. Although he eventually managed, it always led to ridicule from his companions—perhaps this was the goblins’ way of self-punishment.

Although his head was down and he could not see, Mil could feel that the girl, whom he had virtually created with his own hands, was staring at him with bright eyes. Yet he dared not look up, he dared not see those once pure and untouched eyes again. Mil did not know how to face Ava, to determine the right attitude toward the girl who greatly resembled Sigein. A reunion after a long separation should have been joyful, yet Mil clearly could not feel joy at this moment; if not for the fact that his tear ducts had long since dried up after death, he might have felt the urge to weep bitterly.

He knew the girl was innocent. Perhaps her presence was the direct trigger for the goblins’ extinction, but it was caused by their own doing. From any perspective, he could not shift the blame onto her. However, her face, which bore a strong resemblance to Sigein, made it impossible for him to control the resentment he had harbored over the years. Yet he also knew that he had no right to hate her; rather, she had every right to hate him, to hate all goblins. They had created her as an experiment, commanded her without emotion like operating the Central Controller, and in the end, probably all left her behind, leaving her alone in that overlapping space. Such treatment would likely induce hate in anyone.

Therefore, he dared not look into Ava’s eyes. He feared seeing deep hatred in those eyes, but he also equally feared her seeing the entangled love and hate in his own eyes. Yes, love and hate. Hate, stemming from resenting Sigein, and love, deriving from a creator’s affection for their own creation. As one of the creators, Mil, like the other creators, forced himself to treat her like a machine, devoid of personal emotions, but deep down, they viewed her as their child—how could there be no feelings?

"Deputy Chairman Mil," Ava’s voice was monotone and flat, devoid of intonation, reaching Mil’s ears: "The time has been four million eight hundred and seventy thousand and ..."

"Cough cough." Catherine seemed to cough unintentionally, interrupting Ava’s habitual reporting.

"We meet again at last," Ava’s voice paused, then continued: "Unfortunately, we are not in the research center, the attempt to operate online did not succeed, I am unable to report specific data from the research center, please forgive me."

The familiar way of reporting struck Mil like lightning, causing his whole body to jolt violently; he couldn’t help but slowly raise his head and watched as the expressionless girl stared straight at him, waiting for orders as if she were still Cyrie. Mil’s shriveled lips twitched, revealing a smile uglier than crying, and with a hoarse voice, he said, "Terminate reporting task, enter idle state, thank you, Ava. Also, could you tell me if there was anyone left in the center after the catastrophe ..."

"I regret to inform you, there were no survivors, Deputy Chairman Mil," Ava said expressionlessly: "The last researcher’s vital signs disappeared in the fourth hour after the onset of the catastrophe."

"Indeed, all dead." Although Mil had been psychologically prepared, he still felt a pang of sorrow upon hearing the answer, muttering to himself: "The goblins, who feared death and sought immortality, eventually destroyed themselves in the process, this is probably the greatest irony in the over seven thousand years of goblin history. Sigh, I understand now, thank you, and, I’m sorry, Ava."

The synthetic girl did not speak, only blinked, waiting for what Mil wanted to say.

"Due to our greed, selfishness, and arrogance, we made you bear too much that you shouldn’t have to, and in the last few hours, you also had to endure too much blame and hatred that wasn’t yours to bear," Mil sighed, speaking bitterly: "Moreover, you had just been born, and when you needed us the most, we left you alone there; it’s all our responsibility. Now, although the goblins are extinct and I have become an Undead, no longer the same person I was, I still want to say sorry to you one last time on behalf of the goblins and as the Deputy Chairman, hoping you can forgive our mistakes, hoping you no longer hate us."

"I’m sorry, I cannot fulfill this request," Ava’s response plunged Mil into despair, but she did not stop and continued: "The storage does not contain the emotion of hatred, therefore the request for ’no longer hating you’ cannot be executed."