Elegy from Another World

"Antome code".

This word exploded in my mind like a silent thunderclap. It wasn't fear, but an instinctive awe in the face of the unknown abyss. I had seen descriptions of this concept in the libraries of upper-level narratives—an existence whose very information possesses the characteristics of being "unmemorable" and "difficult to spread." They are paradoxes at the information level, living cognitive black holes. I never imagined that I would see such an existence with my own eyes, no, I would "hear" it with my own ears.

The light and shadow of the anti-meme code silently turned towards the conspicuous obelisk atop the Dreil, its "gaze" (if that point of light had a focus) seemingly lingering on the densely packed names. A calm yet unseen pressure emanated from it: "How...how did you turn my home into this?"

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down, and replied, "First, please allow me to clarify that this ship, the Drais, is my and my companions' current home. Second, regarding your 'home'—the ark—when we found it, it was severely damaged and on the verge of disintegration, silently awaiting final annihilation in the net tunnels. We believe that rather than letting its technology and memories disappear completely along with the ruins, it is better to let it continue in another form, for example, by helping us rebuild our homes so that the survivors can live better lives."

I stared intently at the ball of light and shadow, trying to decipher any emotional fluctuations within it, but I couldn't discern anything. He remained silent, as if processing my explanation, or as if my words themselves were being distorted and forgotten by his own nature.

The silence was unsettling. I tentatively suggested, "This isn't the place to talk. Perhaps we could go to a private room to discuss this in more detail?"

The light and shadow seemed to flicker slightly, perhaps as a gesture of agreement. "Okay."

Our group—myself, Sakhozon, Zoymem, and this unseen visitor—arrived at a quiet conversation room on the Dreil. The atmosphere was heavy.

I spoke first, posing the most crucial question: "Are you... connected to Scranton, or a being known as the Sha?"

The light and shadow responded immediately, without the slightest hesitation: "Never heard of it."

This answer was somewhat unexpected, but it also ruled out an important possibility. He then asked, "So... what about the other 'people' whose homes are... on the Ark? Where are they?"

“We only found five,” I told them truthfully, “and unlike you, they seem to have completely lost their autonomy, remaining only as pure energy responses. Currently, they are housed in the Drew’s power zone, providing power to the ship.”

"The energy zone?" The fluctuations in the light and shadow seemed to intensify. "Take me to see it."

"Okay," I agreed, while secretly increasing security in the energy zone via internal communications. "But please keep your distance and do not interfere with the normal operation there."

We moved again. At the entrance to the energy zone, the anti-meme code saw the five orbs of light quietly suspended in the specially designed energy field, their soft glow pulsating slightly with the rhythm of the pleasure converter, as if immersed in some kind of unconscious pleasure.

The shadowy figure representing the visitor flickered violently, emanating a clearly unacceptable fluctuation. I could sense a silent sorrow and anger.

“They were like this when we found them,” I explained, keeping my tone as calm as possible. “We tried to awaken them, but we failed. Rather than letting them dissipate into the void, we decided to let them play a role here, at least… to ‘exist’ in a peaceful way.”

The antimeme code remained silent for a long time. Finally, the violent fluctuations subsided. He seemed to "believe" my words, perhaps sensing their truth through his special abilities, or perhaps he had no other choice. He conveyed a sense of helplessness and heaviness, then turned and left the energy zone.

Back in the meeting room, the atmosphere became even more awkward. I decided to be more formal: "Let me reintroduce myself formally. I am Liscia, and as you know, I am the leader of this ship, the Draenor. I also have another consciousness within me, Jasmine. These two are my companions, Sakozun and Zoimem. So, how should we address you? Or rather, how should we address you?"

The light and shadow of the anti-meme code began to fluctuate, seemingly trying to convey a message. But the next moment, all that Sakozun, Zoim, and I heard (or rather, in our minds) was a series of meaningless, distorted noises! Like a broadcast with a severely faulty signal, we couldn't distinguish any syllables at all!

As expected... the anti-meme property has taken effect. Even his name cannot be normally perceived or remembered.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head: "Perhaps...we can try another approach? We have a symbiotic network technology that allows for direct connections at the level of consciousness, sharing thoughts and memories, which might bypass this...information barrier?"

"Symbiotic networks?" A ripple seemed to stir within the anti-meme code's intent. "Does it refer to a technology that directly connects consciousness through biological interfaces, constructing data chains?"

I was startled; he actually knew! "Yes, you've heard?"

"I know a little about it," he replied. "I can give it a try."

"So, do you want to connect?" I reached out my hand.

"Okay." The light and shadow of the anti-meme code drifted closer.