Elegy from Another World

The "Neo-Dresden Aegis" (which we still habitually refer to as the Dresden) and its fleet—the Stars, the Ring, the Singularity Observatory, the Arbitration Platform, and even the "Comma" logistics ship—have all undergone a leap forward in upgrades with the full assistance of the "Watchmen." The ships' performance, defense, and weapon systems have reached unprecedented levels, like sharpened weapons, quietly awaiting unknown challenges.

However, as the fleet completed its preparations and refocused its efforts on analyzing the miniature galactic debris and the ultimate mission of finding Scranton, an increasingly heavy truth weighed on everyone's minds—the figure of the "Watchmen" was becoming increasingly faint and transparent. That once relatively stable and shining light now emitted fine data dust from its edges, like a candle flickering in the wind.

I couldn't accept just watching him walk towards his end. Repair work was put on hold, and I used all the resources and connections of "Survival Cross" to try and find a glimmer of hope.

I first contacted the King of the Tech World. "Your Majesty, regarding the 'Watchers'... their code structure is collapsing. Is it possible that you...?"

King Xuan's reply was tinged with deep helplessness: "Lady Liscia, we are powerless to help. Anime... is a field we have never explored before. Our researchers cannot even consistently observe and record its state; the relevant data simply vanishes on its own. Repair? We cannot even understand its collapse mechanism."

Unwilling to give up, I once again pinned my hopes on the miracles of the Prayer Star World. "Cone, equivalent exchange... Is it possible to repair him? No matter the cost!"

The enormous heart of the cone remained silent for a long time, then transmitted a heavy and certain thought: "Lysia, the 'price' required to repair a 'concept' that is denying itself is paradoxical. Its total amount is enough to instantly drain the foundation of the entire Prayer Star World, causing the entire system to collapse. I'm sorry, this wish cannot be fulfilled."

I turned my attention to our newest ally—J-311 World. Eileen and Sharingan Velvet, upon learning of the situation, expressed their willingness to give it a try. I led "Watchmen" back to that wasteland. Sharingan Velvet's body, composed of countless eyes, emitted an unprecedented light, attempting to delve into the collapsed code structure.

The process lasted several minutes. The light of the Sharingan: Velvet finally dimmed, and the transmitted message was filled with helplessness: "[No. His decay... is an increase in entropy at the information level, a dissolution of the definition itself. It's like... trying to catch grains of sand falling in an hourglass. You can slightly slow their descent... but you can't change the fact that the sand will eventually fall, nor can you make the falling sand return to the top. We... are powerless.]"

I even went so far as to emulate the feat of repairing the pleasure converter, sending out requests for help through the "Survival Cross" communication network to members of all possible advanced civilizations. The responses were few and far between, and without exception, all were negative. Most civilizations had never even heard of the concept of "antimemes," let alone repaired them.

Just when I was about to give up hope, Ah Hui—our friend who was in the upper echelons of the narrative—sent an urgent message.

"Lizia! I've found a possible solution!" His cartoon avatar seemed unusually excited. "I used every available knowledge base, and even... even got key components from some less-than-compliant 'black market' channels, piecing together a save/load generator!"

He quickly explained, "The principle is to first use this machine to scan the target's core code and record the complete data state—that's 'saving'. Afterwards, no matter what kind of collapse or damage occurs, as long as you execute 'loading the save,' you can forcibly overwrite its data and restore it to the state it was in when it was saved! It doesn't interfere with the macro timeline; it only resets individual data, so there won't be any time paradoxes!"

This sounded like a last-ditch effort! We immediately dispatched our fleet to a network crevice he had marked as KZ-97, based on the coordinates provided by Ah Hui. There, we witnessed that incredible creation—a colossal machine with a radius of about two hundred kilometers, its surface covered with countless shimmering data patterns, and at its center a giant square core emitting a ghostly blue light, like a backup hard drive prepared for the gods.

With our last hope, we carefully guided the "Watcher" to the vicinity of the machine. A massive scanning beam enveloped its fading shadow, and its eerie blue core flickered violently, seemingly trying its best to record the complex and collapsing antimeme code structure.

"Saving complete." Ah Hui's voice came through, tinged with nervousness. "Now...shall we give it a try?"

We all held our breath. However, the moment the "load" command was issued, a despairing scene unfolded—the scanning beam enveloped the "Watcher" once again, but this time, instead of bringing any signs of recovery, it accelerated the dissipation of his light and shadow! It was as if... this powerful machine could not truly "remember" his destined-to-be-forgotten essence, and the loading process itself became a secondary interference and destruction of the remaining structure.

"How could this happen?!" Ah Hui's voice was filled with frustration and disbelief.

Undeterred, I conducted a control experiment myself. I stood under the scanning beam to "save" my work, and then unhesitatingly used the cutter to remove my left arm. But the moment I started "loading" the work, my arm regenerated instantly, perfectly intact! This machine is remarkably effective against both conventional and technological life forms.

But it has no effect on the "Watchmen". This harsh reality proves that the collapse of antimemes is a kind of deeper "existential" demise that goes beyond the scope of conventional data backup.

Although this attempt failed, the strategic value of this giant machine is undeniable. I ordered a large number of heavy transport drones to begin the arduous task of slowly pushing this behemoth toward the Dresden, hoping it could be used to rescue other partners in the future.

When I dragged my weary body and soul back to the Drei and saw that ball of light and shadow, I was filled with an indescribable sense of defeat.

The "Watcher" seemed to sense my emotions; his thoughts arrived, but unexpectedly calm, even carrying a hint of relief:

"Lizia...you don't need to go through all this trouble for me anymore."

"Like quicksand that eventually flows away... this is my end. To see the 'dawn' rekindle in these final moments, to see you build the 'Survival Cross'... I have... no regrets."

"More than trying to fix me, I'd like to see you all... keep going."

"But..." I wanted to say something, but he interrupted me.

"My time is running out... but I believe your story... will be very, very long." His shadow flickered slightly, as if smiling. "Please carry... the name of 'Stun'... and the belief of 'Survival Cross'... and go see... the far reaches of that vast ocean of stars for me..."

I stood there, watching that ball of light and shadow that carried countless memories, wisdom, and sacrifices, and could only let out a heavy sigh. Some hourglasses, once they begin to flow, cannot be reversed.