People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Mark Max stood on his bird stand, explaining the latest issues he had brought to the table:

"Prime Minister Ernst, I plan to invest in the research and development of a technology that can upload a person's consciousness and then download the uploaded consciousness into a new body. What do you think?"

This topic is far beyond Ernst's knowledge.

Uploading human consciousness and then downloading it into a new body? What is this? Digital life? AI life?

Ernst had only seen similar ideas in science fiction works and games with science fiction backgrounds, such as uploading the consciousness of a construct, automatically recovering it after it dies in battle, and then reviving it on a new machine. This design is ingenious and also makes it convenient to sell new cards.

But if you ask Ernst to explain how this technology should be implemented, and what issues need to be considered during the implementation process, Ernst wouldn't be able to answer.

You know we're not on the same track.

Fortunately, Mark Max didn't seem to really expect Ernst to answer the question. Or rather, in his eyes, Ernst's silence was also part of the answer.

Under Ernst's questioning gaze, His Excellency the President nodded in bewilderment and satisfaction:

"It's okay if you don't want to answer, let's ask another question. After all this, do you think the person who has been revived is still the same person?"

What kind of philosophical question is this?

The Ship of Theseus? All the parts have been replaced, only the name remains. Is this still the same ship as before?

This question has been discussed by philosophers in Ernst's previous lives for hundreds or even thousands of years, and no one has been able to truly convince anyone else. How could Ernst possibly come up with an authoritative answer?

He can only express his views based on his own values ​​and beliefs:

I think so.

"I do not believe in the idea that human nature is inherently good or inherently evil. Humans are social beings and cannot exist independently of society. Our current spirit, our consciousness, and our understanding of things are all shaped by our environment, including cultural, geographical, and political environments."

"In other words, since we cannot yet confirm whether the abstract concept of the 'soul' actually exists, what constitutes our consciousness are these factors. If these factors can be preserved intact, then it is merely a change of external carrier, and I am still me."

Ernst said seriously:

"I'm consistent."

After saying what he really meant, he immediately chuckled and made up an excuse:

"However, we can't be too absolute. After all, with our current level of understanding, we can't arrive at any so-called 'completely correct truth.' If the soul really exists, then the situation might change."

Ernst left out half a sentence.

Moreover, if you put a person's soul into some strange thing, I guess I wouldn't want to recognize myself anymore.

There are real-life examples of this. Isn't that the heating sage, Flame Demon Safar, a perfect example?

When his vessel was the designer's Dulin 258, he was incredibly proud, introducing himself with absolute confidence. But when Dulin 258 was damaged and he temporarily possessed a small mechanical toy, look at how he acted!

He'll get angry if anyone dares to call him by his name.

Therefore, the topic returns to this metaphysical question—whether you are truly yourself depends on your subjective attitude.

However, at least for Ernst, he felt that he was always himself.

He is a cadre who serves the people, a time traveler, a snow leopard, the third son of the Shivaesh family, and Ernst Shivaesh.

This is his anchor point, the key to preventing him from getting lost in the dazzling world of Terra and allowing him to remain clear-headed from beginning to end.

After listening to the answer, Mark Max, just like in many previous meetings and conversations, made no comment, neither saying it was right nor wrong.

He merely glanced meaningfully at Ernst, the meaning conveyed in his cross-shaped bionic pupils seeming to have become even more resolute.

Yes, he is the "treasure".

According to Trevor Friston's father's records, the "treasure" was discovered by a prophet and a priestess at the end of the civilization, and the prophet and the priestess were the two people with the best relationship with the "treasure".

However, a good relationship does not necessarily mean shared ideals. "Treasure" himself seems to agree more with some of Trevor Friston's ideas, especially on the ancient field of "consciousness."

Priestesses and prophets regard everything in the material world as "external appearances." Priestesses, in particular, insist on the power of the heart. Even if you lose your memory, your consciousness, or everything else, as long as your pure soul remains, you are still you.

Trevor Friston and "Treasure" tend to believe that "information is an indispensable element of a person's soul. Without it, even if the core essence remains unchanged, the person is no longer the same person."

Neither side managed to convince the other, or rather, neither side had the time or energy to waste their remaining time arguing about this issue as the end of the world approached.

This little discussion, which might not even be called a debate, was merely a minor episode between them. In Trevor Friston's vast database, this event is recorded in only a short fragment.

We had discussions like these, discussions that permeated our civilization throughout the past, and the interpretation and exploration of these discussions are the very source of our development and progress. We feel immense regret that "Treasure" was completely unaware of such a grand occasion, unable to witness it firsthand. This must have been a great regret for him as well.

[However, the discussion was still meaningful. Shortly after, research on the "treasure" made a breakthrough, and the "protected area" project was officially put on the agenda. The Originium of the Prophet and the Priestess became the best materials for constructing the protected area.]

That concludes the record held by Mark Max.

It was just a small matter.

But that was enough for Mark Max to reconfirm Ernst's identity.

He switched to honorifics again: "Godfather (unknown language), thank you for your answer."

Ernst paused for a moment, then subconsciously asked:

"That's just my humble opinion. What did you just say?"

“It’s nothing.” Mark Max shook his pigeon head, unwilling to say more.

Ernst was also somewhat helpless.

Whispering in a language you don't understand? Asking questions and then not explaining—what kind of behavior is that?

The neighboring country's president, Kaká, who occasionally uses cryptic language to cover up his true feelings?

Ignoring the slightly speechless expression on Ernst's face, the president opened his beak again:

"You're leaving the Special Administrative Region tomorrow, right?"

Ernst nodded in affirmation:

"Yes, my next plan is to travel to Trimont to visit Rhine Lab."

"Are you really not considering moving Rhineson Search: Wu Liu, Si Er Ming over there?"

"Ahem, this can be discussed further."

“Alright then.” Mark Max flapped his wings noncommittally, flew down from his bird stand, and went to the desk. He picked up a doll that had been prepared on the desk with his beak. “Take this with you. I’ll arrange for a tin man to come with you.”

"this is?"

"It's one of my terminals."

I thought you were going to talk about the petite Mark Max.

Ernst was actually more interested in the effects of this thing.

He already carries enough surveillance equipment: the divine stone of the god Yeragand, the banshee's kiss given by Nasti, and Himer's feather. Carrying a doll along wouldn't be a big deal, but he does have principles. It's fine to broadcast live to his own family, but he wouldn't feel comfortable showing it to the Führer.

Noticing Ernst's troubled expression, the President didn't press the matter. He hopped back the toy, though his tone carried a hint of disappointment.

"Then I'll entrust him to the Tin Man for safekeeping."

"He will hand this terminal over to you at that time."

Ernst finally couldn't help but ask, "So, what do you mean by 'then'?"

Mark Max spread his wings, and a playful, almost human-like expression appeared on his bird face:

"This is a surprise!"

Chapter 630 The Preservator Awaits a Visit

Columbia, Trimont, suburban underground.

There has still been no signal response today.

Trevor Friston didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

His call once again fell into the empty universe, like a diver who had just won a gold medal, without making a ripple.

But what he wants now is a splash of water.

This mindset is truly contradictory. He longs for a response to his zero signal, because that would mean there are still survivors in the human civilization, and his efforts so far would not have been in vain.

But he was also afraid that his signals would receive an inappropriate response, such as two more extermination orders. He was getting old and couldn't handle that kind of fright.

The Extinction Order, or rather, the Heaven's Pivot, is Ed's masterpiece.

Ed was indeed a genius. Even when the apocalypse came and resources were extremely scarce, and humanity's control was forcibly limited to this small star system, he was still able to use his talent to create a weapon like the Heavenly Pivot.

Theoretically, it has the power to destroy everything. It can connect all the weapons left behind by human civilization in the universe, including even celestial weapons, causal weapons, mathematical weapons, and so on.

Even the prophets praised Ed's feat, saying he was one of the most outstanding talents at the end of civilization. If everything were as it was before, even the distant home planet would have to award Ed a medal after learning of the invention of the Heavenly Pivot.

Sadly, he will never receive that medal. Because civilization has proven with blood that the "Observer" is not an entity that can be defeated by weapons. The award presenter has vanished.

Trevor Friston's enormous mechanical pupils dilated slightly, and a long sigh echoed within the stasis chamber.

Sometimes, he would reminisce about those days.

In the final days of civilization, four major projects were underway simultaneously: the Preservator Project, which he was in charge of; the Heavenly Pivot Project, which Ed was in charge of; the Originium Project, which the priestess Prestis was in charge of; and the Deep Blue Tree Project, which Lo was in charge of. Together, they worked in harmony, leveraging their respective strengths to find a way out of the impasse.

Ed's plan was initially rejected by the prophet in charge of overall coordination, yet Ed was also the one who completed the plan most successfully. Within the limited time, he perfected the Heavenly Pivot, adhering to the principle that even if he couldn't destroy the Observer, at least he should destroy his own civilization. His key point was that as long as he committed suicide, he wouldn't be considered instantly killed by the Observer, and he wouldn't suffer the humiliation of helplessness.

Although it has no real significance.

Precys' Originium Project aimed to create the Sea of ​​Solaris and establish a "protected area" to avoid the giant hands of the observers (loggers). This plan was considered to have the highest chance of success, but it stalled after the "treasure" left and was never fully completed.

Therefore, Precys decided to fall into a deep sleep, waiting for the theoretically proven "treasure" to return, or for the "Originium" to perfect itself over a long period of time.

The Deep Blue Tree of Lo attempted to exhaustively calculate the evolution of life to its limit, ultimately creating an ultimate life form that even observers could not kill. This ultimate life form would serve as a biological ark, preserving the sparks of civilization until it withstood the gaze of observers and the annihilation of the universe.

She failed. The time required to exhaust everything far exceeded her imagination, and the ultimate life form born from this would not necessarily be completely obedient to its creator. The prophet foresaw all of this but did not tell her.

As expected, the Deep Blue Tree has now lost signal contact.

What remained was Trevor Friston's plan of preservation, which was less a plan and more a dignified funeral.

Of all the plans, his was the least technically advanced. It simply involved building sarcophagi, uploading his consciousness to act as a guardian, protecting the sarcophagi complex, and waiting for the spark of civilization to be rekindled and for human rescue to arrive so that they could be released.

But as "Treasure" said to him, "Friston, you seem to be a little too pessimistic."

That's right. He himself knew that while everyone else's plan was to try to salvage that glimmer of hope hidden in the sea of ​​stars, his plan, from the very beginning, was headed straight for the abyss of despair from which there was no return.

Will there really be a human rescue?

He hoped they would come; he fantasized about it constantly. But would they really? —IV

If so.

Even more despairingly, during the waiting process, the keeper's consciousness twice triggered the circuit breaker protection mechanism due to the torment of the long time, and it was during this process that the stone coffin malfunctioned.

Including himself, the humans preserved in the sarcophagus, who should have been in a state of "deep freezing," somehow turned into "refrigerated preservation," and thus, without their own awareness, they slowly rotted away.

Now even if rescuers actually come, it's useless.

It should be like this.

Until that blonde, demi-human girl found this place.

Why did I agree to open the door for her?

Trevor Friston was puzzled.

Was it a moment of weakness? Or a desire for someone, even someone who wasn't human, to witness his efforts and his eventual demise? Or was he genuinely curious about the identity of the person who activated the Heavenly Pivot?

The "debate" method, which human civilization uses to eliminate distractions and get straight to the heart, cannot be used on him now that he is only half AI, otherwise...

There seems to be no other way to deny it.

Come on, admit it, Friston. It's because she looks a lot like your daughter.

It seems that Prestis's Originium Project has also run into problems; the sealed information within it has leaked out, altering and reshaping the forms of these animals. Perhaps a portion of his daughter's information is among the information that constitutes the demi-human named Christen.

"It's been a while since I've seen her. I wonder if she brought that person with her."

"You brought it, so open the door."

Trevor Friston thought to himself.

He just needed a reason to convince himself.

They had to convince themselves that their civilization was a thing of the past, that none of their plans had succeeded, and that being a witness and having a dignified end was perhaps the final destination for these last few of them.

At least in the end, allow him some selfishness: select and teach the child who looks a lot like his daughter, the spark of Terra civilization.

"Treasure" will understand; after all, didn't he also have a little selfishness in the end?

Outside Trimont, Colombia.

Ernst set foot on this land once again.