Elegy from Another World

On the holographic projection at the tactical table, R-Muth's massive, ever-expanding data model was chilling. The four of us—myself, Edsys, Mia Reilly, and M-Tini Guquera—had been discussing it all day.

"Direct energy attacks will be absorbed and converted by it."

"Physical isolation... it is data in itself, and is almost unrestricted by conventional space."

"Its core consciousness seems highly fragmented, lacking any clear focal point..."

One possible tactic after another was proposed, only to be rejected one after another. The characteristics exhibited by this abandoned worm virus were almost unsolvable. Noreljung had long been impatient and had sailed to the edge of R-Mutko's territory a few hours ago for "on-site investigation" and provocation, occasionally sending back some intense combat data and roars of "This thing is awesome!", but he still made no progress in finding the core weakness.

The atmosphere grew increasingly heavy. Faced with such a creation that was almost governed by rules, our existing methods seemed so pale and powerless.

"Is... really there no way out?" The sand in M-Tini Guquera's abdomen spun anxiously as she, as the core program of the Guardian, was under immense pressure.

Just then, Mia Leili, who had been staring at the quietly blooming little white flowers on my body, suddenly had a glimmer of light in her blue-green eyes. She flew to me, her tone uncertain yet full of hope: "Lissa... perhaps... we can try your nectar?"

"Nectar?" I was taken aback. "You mean, use nectar to deal with R-Muthko? That's too risky. We have no idea what will happen."

"But don't we have a better way?" Mia Leili countered, her small hands clenched tightly together. "The wreckage you brought back before lost its aggressiveness, most likely because it was contaminated with nectar. Since conventional methods are ineffective, why not try this unconventional 'miracle'? It's better than waiting to die!"

I looked into her anxious eyes, then at the ever-expanding threat on the hologram. Indeed, we were out of options. We might as well try anything, no matter how desperate.

"Well... okay then." I finally nodded. "Let's do an experiment first."

We arrived at the lab. Mia Leili carefully collected nectar from a few white flowers on my body using a sterile container, then dripped it into a specially made isolation dish. Inside the dish was a small clump of R-mutek active sample that Noriljeon had brought back not long ago, still wriggling wildly and trying to attack the isolation wall.

Glistening nectar dripped onto the ever-changing data mass.

At first, the sample seemed to become even more agitated. But soon, an astonishing scene unfolded: the nectar seeped in like a powerful purifier, and the ferocious data began to tremble violently. The spikes and mouth-like structures on its surface quickly softened and disappeared, and its violent aggression subsided at a visible speed. In just a minute or two, only a quiet, even somewhat...gentle, milky-white aura of data remained in the isolation dish, no longer threatening whatsoever.

"It worked! It really works!" Mia Leili was so excited she almost jumped up, her little wings flapping rapidly.

Edsys and I exchanged a glance, both seeing shock and hope in each other's eyes. We never imagined that this seemingly insignificant flower on my body would be the key to combating this terrifying data virus!

"It seems this method will work!" I suppressed my excitement. "Next, we need to collect enough nectar!"

The plan was immediately adjusted. I stayed in the research lab and began assisting Mia Reilly in large-scale nectar collection. This process was not easy; it required me to maintain constant, slight contact with the water to encourage flower growth, which Mia Reilly would then carefully collect. Meanwhile, I sent M-Tini Guquera to find Edsys, who would systematically teach her the basic piloting of the Ringbelt. Having another person who could pilot the ship meant more security in critical moments.

However, after an hour of collecting nectar, our hearts sank as we looked at the container where only about half a liter had accumulated. This amount was utterly insignificant compared to the massive size of R-Muthko.

"Too slow..." Mia Leili frowned. "If only your copying ability were still there."

I shook my head helplessly: "That ability stopped working after we left the original world, it must be a compatibility issue." Without the ability to rapidly multiply itself, the production of nectar was fatally limited.

"It seems we can't conduct 'firepower coverage' anymore," Edseys' voice came through the communicator. She had been monitoring the situation remotely. "We must be more careful and find the most critical core points for 'precision purification'."

This means we need to pinpoint R-Mute's core consciousness convergence point more precisely, which undoubtedly increases the risk.

Another half hour passed, and Mia Reilly seemed to be deep in thought. Finally, she looked up at me with a complicated expression: "Lizia... before this... before this operation, could I... take those 'children' in the church away from this world?"

I looked at her, not answering immediately. I knew she was referring to the harmless data worm lives she had rescued.

"I can take them with me," I said slowly, "but two conditions must be met."

"First, they cannot see us as enemies. I believe you can do that."

"Secondly, and most importantly," I said, my tone becoming serious, "they must still voluntarily choose to follow us after knowing the 'truth'."

"The truth?" Mia Leili asked, puzzled.

"It's the reality we've always faced—the virtual nature of the world, the 'upper-level observers' who exist, and the unknown and dangers ahead." I sighed, recalling the past of the Dresden. "You know, when the Dresden was still a 'utopia,' at its peak, it had over four thousand people on board. Most of them were survivors of destroyed homes. For ordinary people who had just experienced trauma, a hopeful 'miracle' was far more comforting and gave them the courage to live than the cruel 'truth.' So, we chose to keep it a secret back then."

I paused, my voice tinged with barely perceptible weariness: "But thinking about it now, perhaps... at the very least, we should have told them, given them the right to choose. Knowing the truth, whether they choose to stay in the familiar 'false' seeking peace, or embrace the dangerous 'reality' to explore the unknown, should be a decision for them to make."

Mia Reilly remained silent for a long time, then nodded seriously: "I understand. I will tell them everything and let them choose for themselves."