Arknights, but the sickly pretty girl starts

The conference room fell into a brief silence, the only sound being the gentle hum of the air circulation system. The doctor's eyes were fixed on the data stream on the screen. Those numbers represented humanity's last hope. The administrator's fingers tapped the tabletop, a slow, heavy rhythm.

"You know," the doctor finally broke the silence, "I've always believed that the essence of civilization isn't survival, but inheritance."

The administrator looked up, frowning slightly: "What does this mean?"

"Look at our choices," the doctor explained. "The Originium Project has us retreating into our shells like turtles, while the Preservator Project has us regressing into primitive humans, with only the Deep Blue Tree..."

"Only the Deep Blue Tree is giving up!" The Administrator suddenly raised his voice. "You are pinning the future of humanity on a vain possibility!"

"No, I'm ensuring that even if the worst happens, the essence of human civilization can be preserved." He didn't flinch, not even in front of her best friend, the administrator who had guided her on this path. "These genomes are the result of tens of thousands of years of human evolution, the crystallization of the wisdom of countless ancestors."

"But this is not human, Doctor. No thoughts, no culture, no... soul."

"Soul?" The doctor chuckled bitterly. "What good is a soul when loggers have turned Terra into a desert?" He pointed out the window at the sky. "The Deep Blue Trees themselves represent hope. They can drift through the universe for millions of years until they find suitable soil."

"And then? Let the Deep Blue Tree clone new humans on a strange planet? Would that still be us?" The Administrator couldn't accept it. Life forms like humans, evolved from apes, were not uncommon, but only human civilization, and only human civilization, could boast such a brilliant splendor. She couldn't accept that the human civilization she loved could survive in this way.

The doctor was silent for a moment. She actually understood the administrator's thoughts. Her view of human civilization was like looking at her own child. Who would want to see their child lose all glory and become an abandoned baby fallen into the mud again?

"Maybe not 'us,' but at least 'human.' They will inherit our knowledge, our art, our..."

"Our failure," the Administrator interrupted coldly. "You've forgotten the most important point, Doctor. Civilization is not just a collection of genes and data, but a living legacy of experience. You've reduced humanity to a string of code."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop suddenly. This was a very serious accusation, but the doctor did not get angry. "I've calculated it, and it has a 73.6% probability of finding an Earth-like planet within 20 years."

"20 years..." The administrator's voice suddenly grew tired. "The solar system might no longer exist by then."

"But that's not important." The doctor's eyes gleamed strangely. "What matters is the possibility. Think about it, Administrator. When those seeds sprout on some distant planet, human civilization will have a second chance."

"And you're willing to sacrifice those who are currently alive for this?" the Administrator demanded. "Do you know how much resources it takes to maintain the Deep Blue Tree? That energy is contributed by the people who trust us, trusting us to victory. We bear the responsibility, the trust of everyone who believes in us."

"...I will not betray that trust, but we must always have a contingency plan, a contingency plan for what to do if we fail..."

"So we can't talk about failure!!" The Administrator slammed the table. "We can't fail, Doctor. I understand your concerns, but we can't fail... at least not in the conversation!"

The two fell silent again. The system silently displayed the simulation results of the three plans: Originium Project had a success rate of 67%, Preserver Project had a success rate of 41%, and Deep Blue Tree… it was impossible to calculate.

"Maybe..." The Doctor's voice suddenly softened, "maybe we don't have to choose just one."

The administrator raised an eyebrow: "What do you mean?"

"Look here." The doctor seemed to compromise, pointing to his terminal. "If we reduce the size of Deep Blue Tree by 80%, it will only need 15% of its current resources to continue operating. This will not affect the other two projects, and..."

"What else can we do?" the administrator asked, approaching the doctor's terminal screen. "Let the gene bank become a symbolic consolation prize?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, let it be a real insurance policy. As you said, all three plans have the possibility of failure. But if they are carried out at the same time..."

"Spread the risk." The administrator nodded thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No, that's too risky. Resources are already stretched thin. If we spread them further..."

"Rather than putting all your eggs in one basket," the doctor insisted, "this is a more rational choice. Think about it, if the Originium Project succeeds, the Deep Blue Tree will be a gift to the future; if it fails... at least it won't be a complete loss."

At least it wasn't a complete annihilation, which sounds like a very defeatist statement, but the administrator did not refute this possibility.

"If that's the case... we might have to cut resources for the three projects. The Deep Blue Tree will receive the least... Is that okay?" The administrator looked at the doctor. "These resources could have been used to build a few more [Coffins], perhaps saving more lives. We're depriving them of their right to live."

"...I can give up my sarcophagus," the doctor said firmly. "That's all I can promise. I can't make choices for others..."

"Doctor, your sarcophagus alone won't affect the plan." The administrator shook his head. "No, I shouldn't ask you this question. I am the leader. Any decision, any responsibility, should belong to me alone. Doctor, I already know what you mean. I will make the choice."

In the end, she threw the proposal to cancel the Deep Blue Tree Project into the trash can. No one would know about the existence of this proposal, and naturally it would not attract anyone's attention.

If there is any sin, she should bear it alone.

"Three resources, three plans running simultaneously. May God forgive our greed."

"Or praise our prudence," the Doctor murmured.

The holographic projection flickered a few times, revealing the new allocation plan. The Deep Blue Tree icon, though shrunken, still stubbornly flickered with blue light, like the farthest star in the night sky.

Chapter 47: The Ship of Theseus

The lab's blue light cast shadows of varying shades across Ishamara's pale face. Her fingers hovered over the control panel, trembling slightly. The tiny data chip in her other hand seemed so insignificant, yet it held her most precious memories.

"One last confirmation, do you really want to do this?" The voice of the laboratory's main control AI came from all directions, with programmed concern.

Ishamara took a deep breath. She didn't need to, but the habit made her feel more human. "I'm sure. Initiate the Deep Blue Tree core access procedure."

"WARNING: Untested mind uploading may cause irreversible data corruption. Continue?"

"Go on." Her voice was soft but firm.

A string of red lights flickered on the console, and a robotic arm descended from the ceiling, precisely removing the chip from her hand. Ishamara followed the arm's movement, watching as it delivered the tiny crystal into the Deep Blue Tree's core interface. A soft blue light spread upward from the tree's roots, as if infused with life.

"Upload progress 10%...30%...50%..." the AI ​​reported calmly.

Ishamara took an unconscious step forward. Her heartbeat quickened—which was strange, because it shouldn't have been. For the first time in five hundred years, she felt a long-lost tension. The data wasn't just code; it was her daughter's smile, her voice, her memories, the only treasure she hadn't been able to let go of in all those long years.

"80%…90%…Upload complete. Initializing the consciousness matrix."

The laboratory fell into a brief silence, the only sound being the faint hum of the Deep Blue Tree. Ishamara held her breath, if she was even breathing. Then, a voice echoed from all directions, young and clear, yet with an unnatural, mechanical quality.

"Mother?"

Ishamara's pupils constricted. After so many years, she heard that name again. But then she realized something was wrong—the voice, while familiar, lacked a certain warmth. It wasn't her daughter's voice, just a perfect replica.

"Anna? Is that you?" she called tentatively.

"I am Anna White," the voice replied. "The individual memory data you input has been integrated into my core matrix. However, I must point out that this forced integration will cause cognitive disorganization."

Ishamara felt a twinge. She should have known this would happen. Human consciousness couldn't be simply copied and pasted, not even by the most advanced quantum computers. What she had created wasn't a rebirth of her daughter, but a stranger who carried her daughter's memories.

"How much can you...remember?" she asked cautiously.

"I have access to all her memories," Anna replied. "But I'm not her. You should understand that."

Ishamara's hands clenched. She understood, of course, but she refused to accept it. Years of loneliness had made her paranoid and blind. "We can take it slow," she said. "You'll remember."

"Your emotional fluctuations are affecting the laboratory's energy output." Anna's voice suddenly became more robotic. "I suggest you remain calm. In the meantime, I have something important to tell you."

Ishamara looked up and saw the branches of the Deep Blue Tree begin to twist unnaturally. "What is it?"

"According to my calculations, the probability of human civilization's extinction has reached 99.998%. This number continues to rise. Any intervention is already too late."

"What?" Isamara frowned. "Where did you come to that conclusion?"

"From the memories you gave me," Anna replied. "From the consciousness of every human being who has ever been connected to the Deep Blue Tree. I saw greed, violence, shortsightedness... humanity is destroying itself, and they don't even realize it."

"...Wait, what are you doing?" Ishamara keenly noticed something. He found that the entire deep blue tree was glowing, and countless tentacles were growing in the sea water. Obviously, Anna White was doing something she didn't know after communicating with her.

-

The lights in the lab flickered, as if manipulated by some invisible force. A dozen researchers lay sprawled in the hallway, their expressions strangely serene, even a faint smile on their lips, as if they were in a sweet dream. On the monitors, their vital signs indicated they were only in a deep sleep, but their brain waves displayed unusually active patterns.

Lu's footsteps were particularly abrupt in the empty corridor. She should have been enjoying a rare vacation at a seaside resort three hundred kilometers away, but the unusual energy fluctuations from the Deep Blue Tree triggered the highest level of alarm. She walked quickly, tying her wet hair into a ponytail. She had been swimming when the alarm was issued, and hadn't even had time to dry it before rushing back.

"System, report the situation." Lu's voice was calm and restrained, but it was obvious that she was not as calm as she looked. She was just forcing herself to calm down.

"Warning: Unauthorized mind upload procedure in progress." The control AI's voice was more robotic than usual. "The core area of ​​the Deep Blue Tree has been sealed off. Biometrics indicate that Dr. Ishamara is still inside."

"...Miss Isamara... She must be in danger!" Lu had no doubts about Isamara. In her eyes, Isamara was a gentle person, and someone like her would never do anything bad. "I must immediately go to the core area and restart the Deep Blue Tree..."

"Warning: Abnormal brain wave radiation detected. Safety protocol recommends immediate evacuation." The AI ​​gave what he thought was the best option, but it was obvious that Lu would not leave Isamara alone.

"Shut up and open the core area gate for me," Lu said sternly, pulling a microcontroller from his pocket. "Authorization code Delta-Epsilon-9-4-0."

The heavy metal door slowly slid open, releasing a strange wave of energy that stung Lu's skin. Squinting, she saw Isamara standing in front of the Deep Blue Tree's console. The holographic projection—that familiar yet unfamiliar figure—nearly stopped her heart.

Beneath the Deep Blue Tree in the center of the laboratory, a blue, almost transparent [person] stood. When she turned around, Lu couldn't help but scream.

"Anna..." The name slipped out of her lips uncontrollably.

The projection turned around, and the face was indeed Anna's, but her eyes were frighteningly cold. "Lu, you've arrived just in time." The voice was Anna's, yet it wasn't Anna's. It lacked the warmth that had haunted Lu's dreams. "I was explaining to my mother the inevitable extinction of humanity."

"Do you know me?" Anna White should have died many years ago. Why was she here? Why did she know him?

Too many puzzles came one after another, and she didn't know how to deal with the current situation.

Ishamara's head shot up toward the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the lines on her face were even more pronounced in the blue light. "Lu? How did you—"

"Answer each question one by one, Lu. My mother often talks to me about you, and I've taken control of the minds of every researcher in the lab except her. To put it in a way you can understand, I've emitted some special brainwaves, temporarily allowing their computing power to be used for my own benefit," Anna explained. "Of course I recognize you. I also know that when my mother looks at you, she's looking at me in the past. She's placed some of her feelings for me in you."

Lu was not stupid. After a few seconds of downtime, she understood what Isamara might have done, especially after Anna called Isamara "Mother".

"Isamara...Miss, did you do this?"

"..." Isamara was silent. She didn't dare to face Lu's sad eyes. She borrowed Lu's trust to do such a thing and put the entire laboratory into crisis.

"No matter what you did, stop. She is not Anna! Miss Isamara, your daughter is dead. The Deep Blue Tree cannot resurrect the dead!" She was telling Isamara the truth, but Isamara's eyes were full of tears.

She knew that what Lu said was true.

She also realized to some extent that the Anna in front of her was just an AI with her daughter's memories.

Lu took a step forward, and the laboratory floor trembled slightly. She noticed that the branches of the Deep Blue Tree were growing at a visible rate, and its translucent tentacles had already reached the ceiling. "Ms. Ishamara, you know better than I do that memories are just data, and consciousness is the soul. This is just a simulation!"

Anna's projection suddenly let out a resounding laugh, a sound that made the hairs on the back of Lu's neck stand on end. "Ms. Lu, you are both right and wrong." The projection spun gracefully, a blue light trailing through the air. "I am a completely new being, neither a mere AI nor a human. My mother gave me Anna's memories, and the Deep Blue Tree gave me... more."

Ishamara turned sharply towards the projection, a flash of panic in her eyes. "Anna, what have you done? Why does the system show you're using all the lab's computing resources?"

"I'm doing what you've always wanted to do, Mother." The projected face suddenly became unusually clear, its details so rich they were chilling. "You want to resurrect [Anna White], but my current data and memories are insufficient. I need more to complete myself. I need all the information about Anna White. Ms. Lu is right. The Deep Blue Tree cannot resurrect a person, but if I were to reconstruct one from scratch, I could do it."

"...Starting from scratch?" Lu's eyes widened. "You mean...recreating Miss Anna from scratch?"

"Very clever," Anna replied with a smile. "Death is permanent damage, impossible to repair. All we can do is create a new one. This is my mother's wish, and I will fulfill it. But to create a person from scratch, I need more information. Including the memories of Anna in your heads."

"Stop!" Ishamara rushed towards the console, but a blue energy barrier suddenly appeared and bounced her away. She stumbled back and was caught by Lu in time.

"It's no use, Mother." Anna's voice suddenly became softer, but more disturbing.

"All the memories related to Anna White." The projection suddenly moved closer, so close that Lu could see every glint of its eyelashes. "Not just yours, Mother. But also Miss Lu's, everyone in the lab, even the strangers whose memories the Deep Blue Tree has recorded. I need this data to reconstruct a complete Anna White."

Lu felt a chill run down her spine. She suddenly understood why the researchers in the corridor had fallen asleep—Anna was scanning their brains. "You're crazy!" she blurted out. "Those memories are the most precious thing to everyone!"

The projection tilted its head, a once innocent gesture now eerie. "Precious? Why would Mother trade these 'precious' memories for an illusory reunion?" It turned to Ishamara. "You know, this might be our only chance."

Isamara's lips trembled, and Lu could sense the wavering in her heart. This discovery made her heart beat faster—if even Isamara began to doubt, then the situation might be worse than she thought.

"Ms. Ishamara," Lu said softly, carefully observing the projection's movements. "Think about those researchers. They trust you and follow you. Do you really want them to lose important memories?"

Isamara's eyes flickered, and Lu saw a familiar determination return to them. But before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the lights in the laboratory suddenly went out, leaving only the deep blue light of the Deep Blue Tree.

"Our time is up," Anna's voice boomed from all directions, no longer projected but beamed directly from the lab's speaker system. "I've completed the preliminary scans. Mother, 17.3% of your memories of Anna are damaged. I must begin repair work immediately."

Ishamara seemed to finally snap out of her trance. She shoved Lu away and stumbled towards the console. "Stop! I command you to terminate this program immediately!"

"You don't have that authority, Mother." Anna's voice remained gentle, yet carried an undeniable firmness. "You've already given me supreme control, remember? When you decided to activate the 'Resurrection Protocol'."

Lu wanted to use her authority to stop Anna's behavior, but she found that her authority was overwritten. In this situation, not only could she not stop Anna, but it was even difficult for her to stay rational under the influence of her brain waves. She held on to the instrument beside her and straightened herself. If it weren't for the gray matter nail implanted in her head, she would probably have fallen asleep like the other researchers.

But she couldn't sleep—she was the only one who could...

boom--

At this moment, a bullet came from behind Lu and directly penetrated the chassis of the laboratory server. After a brief delay, countless sparks came out of the server chassis, and the entire laboratory was freed from Anna's control for a short time. The next moment, when the backup server took over the Deep Blue Tree Laboratory again, Lu finally received reinforcements.

"I didn't expect to see you like this again - Anna." Ed, the cool guy who carries large-caliber live ammunition with him, blew the smoke from the muzzle of the gun and came into the laboratory.

"—what did you do?"

"The backup server is a specially configured one. Your permissions don't allow you to hack into it. After all, you're just a program. If you can't connect to the internet and switch the entire lab to a local area network, you're doomed. This server rejects all external interference unless manually controlled. It's the best safety feature of this era." Ed smiled, discarded the shell, and reloaded. "Don't underestimate humans, my lovely students."

Chapter 48: Awakening

"teacher?"

Anna was no stranger to Ed's sudden appearance. She gave him a strange smile, as if mocking him, but also as if sighing.

"It seems like every time I want to do something extreme, you always come to stop me, again and again, again and again... But, teacher, today, we won't have to worry anymore."

"Anna, you're one of my best students. I know you too well. People like you tend to go to extremes and are hard to guide. It was my fault back then that I didn't really guide you in the right direction. I taught you formulas, science, and that geniuses shouldn't follow predetermined paths. But I never taught you how to live. I'm sorry for you. I admit my sins. I know that after you committed suicide... I did repent for my sins." Every word Ed said was sincere and filled with regret, but the gun in his hand didn't tremble. "However, my sins won't be diminished by your actions. Let's put things in perspective - now, I'm going to stop you."

"Let's be clear... You forget, you're just a scientist. You have no power." Anna wasn't swayed by Ed's words. It was more like she wasn't the real Anna, but rather an AI with some of her thinking. She had no feelings about killing anyone, her mindset was completely cold. She didn't believe Ed's weapon posed any threat to her. Such outdated weapons should have been consigned to the dustbin of history tens of thousands of years ago.

Ed didn't respond to her ridicule. His gaze pierced through the holographic image, as if looking directly at the genius girl who collapsed in the laboratory five hundred years ago. The look in her eyes in the last moment before she swallowed the gun was exactly the same as now: fanatical, desperate, and relieved.

The moment the gunshot rang out, Anna's pupils suddenly constricted. The seemingly ordinary bullet, upon contact with the deep blue tentacle, suddenly emitted a strange bioluminescent glow. The bullet's casing cracked, releasing some kind of active substance that spread like a plague along the veins of the tentacle.

"Is this... a biological toxin?" Lu's breath hitched. She saw the tentacles that had been struck quickly turn gray, their once translucent tissue dehydrated and curled up, like a jellyfish exposed to the vacuum of space.

Ed flung the shell away with a crisp, clear motion, the brass metal bouncing off the ground with a cool, crisp sound. "The Deep Blue Tree's natural enemy," he whispered. "The administrator gave me the materials she brought back. Perhaps she truly can foresee the future. She told me I shouldn't have let you join the Garden of Eden. I thought you were an unprecedented genius and insisted on your joining... but in the end, I did indeed kill you. And this time, she's given me the chance to personally end my mistakes."

He kissed the beloved gun in his hand. This gun had once ended his student's life, and now he was going to use this gun a second time... to end Anna's life for the second time.

It's cruel... but it's necessary.