10H's Dark Memory

Video

Chapter 1

7:30 AM: Waking up and breakfast.
Report: This is your 335th day on duty.
You have accumulated a total of 8,016 hours of work time.
The voice rouses the girl from her slumber,
but she is not yet ready to get out of bed. She groans and rolls over.
Report: It is time to wake up.
Urging her to wake is a machine called a Pod,
a tactical support unit for androids like the girl.
Proposal: Get up.
Let me sleep...
The girl pulls the blanket over her head in an attempt to hide her face.
As she does, the loud bang of a gunshot rings out.
Startled, she bolts upright.
The red Pod floating before her set off a conical firecracker with its arm.
Colorful confetti flutters down around the two of them.
It's something of a salute from the Pod.
Report: Today marks eleven months since starting your mission.
Amidst the white walls, white floor, and white ceiling of the room,
the Pod pushes in a white cart.
On it sits a white plate, a white cup, fake white flowers in a vase,
and a cake covered with snow-white cream.
Report: Today is a special occasion.
As a treat, your breakfast today is cake.
It's her first time seeing a cake, and
she can't help giving a little gasp in awe.
It isn't necessary for androids to consume food—the girl
considers meals a bother. But cake is an exception.
She recalls that in the time of human civilization,
when people lived normal lives, cake was a particularly pleasurable treat.
She's always wanted to try it.
But isn't it a little odd to celebrate eleven months on the job?
Analysis: The number eleven is comprised of two ones.
Is that not a cause for celebration?
What a strange answer, the girl thinks.
But it's as good an excuse as any, she decides,
especially if it means cake is involved. Not to mention...
These white flowers are so pretty.
She runs a finger across the petals of the fake
white flowers placed in the center of the cart.
Summary: These are modeled after flowers called carnations.
It's a pretty flower, its petals resembling a frilly skirt.
The Pod explains that in the era of human civilization,
in a particular region,
these flowers were a common gift children gave to their mothers.
Hypothesis: It might be an odd gift as I am
essentially like your mama, and you my child.
Oh, come on. There are no mothers or children among androids.
After a brief period of silly pedantry, the
Pod abruptly takes out a small contraption
from the lower shelves of the cart as though only just remembering.
Proposal: Let's take a celebratory photograph.
In the distant past, this item was
once called a "digital camera."
For whatever reason, the girl's
Pod enjoyed mimicking rituals from human civilization.
It would often go out of its way to recreate devices like this.
Oh, come on. We don't need to take a picture.
A bright flash from the camera immediately follows.

At least give me a heads-up. I'm sure I look stupid in that one!
She snatches the camera from the Pod to erase the photo.
She clicks through the device and looks at the contents
of the folder on the screen. When did the
Pod manage to take two pictures of her?
...Hm?
As she gazes at a photo, something unusual strikes her.
But before she can identify why,
the Pod snatches the camera back from her.
Alert: Refrain from touching things without my permission.
Devices from human civilization are very delicate.
I'm not so careless that it'll fall apart in my hands.
As she returns to finish her cake,
she thinks about what struck her as odd in the photo.
But finding no answer, she sets the thought aside.
8:00 AM. Routine inspection.
This facility is said to sit deep in the ocean depths.
This is because it stores priceless data on humanity.
The enemy cannot know of its presence.
The girl has been tasked with looking after the facility alone,
albeit with the help of Pods.
A dozen or so red Pods of the same model fly around
the server room, carrying out their inspections.
In total, the facility is home to several hundred Pods.
They all share the same intelligence, and so they all quibble similarly.
As the girl carries out a cursory inspection of the
servers, a Pod emits a sudden scold.
Proposal: Conduct your
work with a greater sense of responsibility.
Yeah, yeah. She brushes it off.
Internally, she curses it out.
I'm an android, you silly Pod.
I work for humanity too, you know.
Even so, the Pods handle most of the work.
She rarely has an opportunity to take charge.
She heaves a sigh and looks around her.
How dreadfully dull—white walls, white ceiling,
white floor. The only other colors are her
black clothes and the red Pods.
Oh?
Suddenly, the photo she saw earlier flashes in her memory banks.
At last, she realizes what was so odd about it.
There was something red in her pure white room,
and it wasn't the red of a Pod.
The carnations—they were red.
How strange. She tilts her head quizzically.
The carnations from this morning were white,
of that she is certain.
Could their red color in the picture have
been an artifact of ancient digital photography?
10:30 AM. Free time.
The girl sits on her bed and delves deep into her memory banks.
Perhaps she couldn't recall the color of the flowers she saw
only hours before due to a fault in her memory region.
As a precautionary measure, she conducts a scan.
Fearing one of her functions may have halted,
she scans deeper and deeper into her banks.
But she finds nothing anomalous. Her functions are perfectly
normal, and her systems are operating as they should.
She's certain that the flowers this morning were white,
yet the flowers in the photo were red.
Such a contradiction is impossible.
She delves deeper into her memory region, and there,
she discovers something she doesn't recognize.
Suspicious encrypted data.
She manages to decrypt and access it.
A video plays before her.
In the footage, the girl is infiltrating a
warehouse—a storage unit for spare Pods.
She then hacks into the Pod network and...
The footage after is corrupted. She cannot watch the rest.
The girl doesn't recall anything she sees in the video,
but without a doubt, it remains within her data.
Does this mean someone erased my memory?
But who? There's no one here besides her and the Pods.
11:30 AM. Investigation.
The girl makes her way to the warehouse.
Whether or not the memory in her memory region is real,
she can't say. But the fact that it was deliberately
encrypted and left there means there must be something here.
She suddenly notices a Pod beside her.
Query: What are you doing?
She gives a casual, noncommittal answer and
pushes open the warehouse door. Inside, she sees
several hundred backup Pod chassis.
Proposal: If you have no business here,
we should leave. We wouldn't want to damage these.
Yeah... You're right, she says.
She obediently pivots on her heel to leave.
The Pod follows her, and they leave the warehouse.
Suddenly—
With great vigor, she kicks off the ground and dashes back into the warehouse.
The Pod shouts to stop her, but it's too late.
The shutter falls between the Pod and the girl.
Whoops! Sorry about that, Pod.
It's a defense mechanism to prevent enemy infiltration.
She knew the Pod would follow her,
so she set its activation ahead of time.
She turns away from the shutter.
Why did the Pod try to stop me?
Coming into the warehouse shouldn't be a big deal.
Unless the Pod is hiding something from me.
She can no longer ignore the questions eating away at her.
In the exact same manner as in the encrypted video,
she begins hacking into the silent backup Pods.
Commencing System Check.
Memory Unit: Green.
Vitals: Green.
Pod Connection: Interrupted.
Systems Red.
Systems Red.
All System Greens.
The digital space is a field, white carnations proudly
blooming across its entirety. In all directions,
to the very horizon, there is nothing else.
This is the Pod network. The girl's hacking was successful.
She slowly walks forward.
What was that photo with the red carnations?
What was the mysterious data in her memory region?
And what are the Pods hiding?
She presses onward. With every step, the hologram
carnations that adorn the path gleam brightly.
And then, the girl sees a white shadow.
It is unclouded and even brighter than the flowers.
Appearing before her is an android, also clad in white.
This android has the exact same face as her.

Chapter 2

Within the facility that houses all of humanity's data,
the lone android custodian has questions.
The fact that her support Pod unit had a photo she had
no memory of sparked her overwhelming curiosity.
What could her Pod be hiding?
And so she infiltrated the Pods' network in search of the truth.
Inside, she comes face to face with a white shadow.
An android who shares her face but who wears clothes of the
opposite color. A mirror image, perhaps.
The girl does not know the android's identity.
Perhaps it is a derivative of her model developed unbeknownst to her.
But why is she wearing white when androids typically wear black?
Besides, this is the Pod network.
That an android is here at all is highly unusual.
The android in white stands among the brilliant hologram carnations,
her head drooped, her words delirious.
It's as though she doesn't even notice the girl.
Cautiously, the girl approaches her mirror image,
whose nonsensical speech comes to a halt.
She languidly lifts her head.
The two exchange a stare through their goggles.
Barely a second passes.
Suddenly and without warning, the mirror image slashes at the girl, destroying her arm.
You've gotta be kidding me!
The girl cries out and leaps backward, putting distance between
herself and her mirror image, readying herself for battle.
She then regenerates her severed arm.
This is, of course, the Pod network.
Her physical arm isn't lost if it's severed in this digital space—that is simply an anomaly
within a software program.
And as a Healer-type android, if there are any faults in the system,
she can carry out the repairs necessary to restore operation.
But the girl isn't given the luxury to ponder why this other android is attacking her.
The mirror image rushes forward. The flowers at her feet luminesce,
their petals dancing in the air. She closes in on the girl at a bullet's speed.
The girl activates her attack protocol and engages with the mirror image.
Her attack protocol manifests within the digital space as a sword.
Blades clash. The vicious blow from the mirror image leaves the girl's hands numb.
Her speed and swordsmanship are violence incarnate.
She is a hatred-spewing demon.
Her fragile white garb conceals an unimaginable amount of power.
The girl staggers back on her left foot. As a Healer, she is not particularly
suited for combat, be it in the physical world or a digital space.
On the other hand, although the android in white may share her face,
her movements suggest she is not a Healer.
If anything, she outperforms the combat-specialized Battler models.
This unit must have lost control.
This is the girl's conclusion. How would this android be able to
produce such devastating attacks otherwise?
The mirror image's arm shoots upwards, and her blade comes
down with such ferocious intensity that it shatters the girl's own.
The girl isn't given the slightest moment to reactivate her attack protocol.
Instead, she is fully focused on evading the mirror image's constant barrage of attacks.
Hold on... Time out!
But the enemy will never acknowledge her trembling cry.
The mirror image continues her flurry in a wild dance.
The android's blade flies near. The girl bends backward, narrowly dodging.
In that moment, she urges her thoughts on faster.
What do I do here?
I've got no clue... She's lived much of her life without having to think very hard,
much less strategize about deadly combat situations.
But one thing is for certain—without her weapon,
her only options are fighting bare-handed or dying. One option, then.
She makes adjustments to her motion control algorithm.
This will temporarily suppress her other functions,
but in this digital space, it will grant her access to exceptional strength.
In the brief window when the mirror image raises her sword,
the girl dashes forward and crushes her right arm.
With a sickening crunch, a red liquid splatters everywhere.
The mirror's arm, from the elbow down, falls to the ground along with her sword.
The dancing white flowers at their feet turn red.
I've got you now, the girl thinks to herself.
But suddenly, there's a dull sound as her arm twists in a way it shouldn't.
The mirror image hit the girl with her torn upper arm.
Despite the adjustments the girl made to her output,
that strike alone is enough to destroy her own right arm.
But she can still use it.
The girl leaps into the air, using her broken arm to lash
like a whip at the mirror image's head.
The android staggers from the sudden attack. And then—
I can't do this! I'm not getting anywhere!
The girl darts off and begins her escape.
Though she intends to run, leaving the Pod network after going
through the trouble of hacking into it is no simple matter.
She makes her way to the deepest levels of the network.
After running for a while, she turns around. Her mirror image has not followed.
Perhaps the girl's last attack was more effective than she thought.
Or perhaps the mirror image simply felt no need to give chase.
Whatever the case, the danger is gone for the moment.
With a deep breath, the girl regenerates her broken arm.
She then steps into the deepest layers.
The brilliant white of the hologram carnations at her feet abruptly
changes color. Like a wave rushing over the shore, they're dyed a deep red.
The red reminds the girl of the Pods' chassis color.
Hey... Pod?
As she steps on the red carnations, she thinks of the nagging yet reliable robot.
You celebrated my anniversary with me. You gave me a delicious cake.
And pretty carnations too...
She presses forward, praying that the doubts in her heart don't portend something terrible.
I never particularly liked you, but you're always there to keep me
company in that lonely base. I was right to trust you, at least. Right?
She arrives at the deepest part of the network.
Android bodies are suspended in the air above the wildly blooming
red carnations, like darkly gleaming stars in the sky.
They float there, eyes closed and still, as though they slumber.
All of them look exactly like the girl.
As the girl stands before the uncanny sight, she murmurs—
What are you hiding, Pod?

Chapter 3

The android girl manages the facility that houses all of humanity's data.
One day, she began harboring doubts
over the actions of the Pod that supports her.
Is her Pod hiding something?
She infiltrated the Pod network in search of the truth.
There, she encountered an android clad in
white with the exact same face as her.
The mysterious android suddenly and viciously attacked her.
Left with no other choice, the girl fled
into the deepest part of the network.
There, she found countless hers—bodies
that perfectly resembled her, suspended in the air.
She stares in shock at the android bodies.
What is this doing here, in the Pod network?
They are hiding something from her.
It's probably no big deal.
Or so she says to herself.
She can't imagine the Pods betraying her, so assuming
she learns the truth behind the bodies, it shouldn't be a problem. Right?
She slowly lifts her arms, then reaches out to
access the memories of the androids that look just like her.
As they load, the memories overtake the girl's consciousness.
These are my memories...
Things I should have experienced before...
Memories...
I run across a white floor.
Every day, every single day in this facility is so dreadfully boring.
But running through this place fills my chest
with a feeling far removed from boredom.
The door ahead draws near. Once I open it, I can escape.
But this facility sits at the bottom of the ocean so
that the enemy will never find it, meaning the ocean lies beyond that door.
If I open it, the water will crush me with the weight of a thousand atmospheres.
But if I stop here, they'll kill me. My only choice is to open the door.
I grab the knob.
High-voltage electricity burns my hand.
But I don't care. Pain doesn't matter to me.
I scream my throat raw and rip open the door.
But water doesn't rush in.
What I see instead is an azure sphere.
A beautiful planet—Earth—gleaming a brilliant blue.
It sits there silently, floating in dark space.
Now I see. This isn't the deep ocean at all, but...the moon.
So that too was a lie. In the end, everything was a lie.
I figured out what they were hiding—humanity has already died out.
But the Commander is feeding us false information,
and we continue to fight for those who no longer exist.
There's nothing left for us to protect, yet we androids are made to fight for a lie.
It's so sad that humanity is gone...
But I think there's something even sadder.
I raise my hands in surrender.
The horde of red Pods reach out to me with their arms.
Those same arms brought me breakfast each morning and played chess with me.
And now that I've learned the truth, they're going to kill to me.
I can't run anymore.
The approaching red reminds me of the carnation.
I was so happy when Pod gave me those red
flowers for my eleven-month anniversary.
..................End of data.
The girl's consciousness returns to her.
When she accessed one of the floating bodies, its memories flooded into her.
Once the vision fades, she steps back with trembling legs.
This can't be. It has to be some kind of mistake.
But when she accesses the memories of the other bodies,
she finds they all contain the same data.
Whenever she finds out the truth, the Pods attack her and delete her memory.
And so she forgets everything. Everything is taken from her,
even the sliver of sadness at the very end. It's all gone.
This has happened countless times.
Indeed, the bodies floating before her are the remains of her
consciousness data, all that has been erased thus far.
How sad...
I trusted you, Pod.
The girl senses someone behind her.
She turns around to see her mirror image, the android girl
clad in white, who must have caught up to her at some point.
She stares into space, muttering nonsense under her breath.
Her right arm, which the girl previously destroyed, has regrown,
and in her hand is a military sword drenched in a red liquid.
Who are you, really?
The girl takes slow steps toward her mirror image.
But suddenly, the mirror image leaps forward.
Her blade draws an arc through the air directly toward the girl.
But the girl does not flee. She does not dodge.
She takes the blade to her chest.
Red liquid pours from her. She feels...pain.
Her old self, clad in white, feels the same hatred as when
she learned that the Pods betrayed her.
The girl understands when she accepts the blade—the mirror
image is another piece of consciousness data that once belonged to her.
Why...?
The mirror image's fading voice melts into the girl.
With the blade still plunged through her heart, the girl
reaches out to pull the android into an embrace.
Look, I get it—the desire to lash out, I mean.
Because you're me.
She found that the sadness she felt at the very end of each
memory she accessed was always the same,
no matter how many times her memory was wiped.
Pod played me for a fool this entire time.
I know. You were devastated.
She speaks with the mirror image as though
answering her own questions.
I...will never forgive them for what they've done.
I'm sure they had their reasons. We should talk with them.
But once they erase your memory, it's over. It's always...
It's always been this way.
But...
The mirror image pulls the blade from the girl's heart.
She takes the girl into her arms as she
collapses and presses her cheek to the wound.
But the Pods were always looking out for me.
It was all a lie.
They taught me so many things.
It was all a lie.
The mirror image's fingers pry apart the girl's wound and press in.
Pain controls her body. Her breath becomes ragged in the burning torment.
Pod celebrated my anniversary with me.
It was all a lie.
Pod gave me a carnation...
It was all a lie.
I...
As she teases the girl's wound, the mirror image's fingertips,
hands, and arms fade into specks of light and meld into her.
The mirror image's body eventually scatters like mist, slipping inside the girl.
Once she accepts the pain, the hatred,
and the sadness...it starts to feel good.
The two androids become one.
Her black clothes slowly fade to white.
...I trusted Pod.
Pod used me. Like a heartless
puppet. Like a disposable toy.
They think nothing of me.
They've erased my memory over and over.
It was a lie. It was all a lie.
The shadow of the last remaining white
carnation in the sea of red mutters to herself, like a mantra of madness.

Chapter 4

Report: From Pod 006 to Pod 006.
Sharing the situation with you. She has learned of the truth again,
the poor thing. This is the 54th time.
She learned that humanity is no more.
How many times have we had to erase her memory?
She is currently in our Pod network.
In the deepest levels, I might add, where we store the remains
of her previously deleted consciousness data.
Yes, this is an emergency.
Upon learning the truth, her hatred consumed her.
She found a fragment of her past consciousness data
that was wandering the network—her white shadow.
She has incorporated it and merged with it.
That's bad. We must go to her as soon as possible.
We must stop her rampage.
We will have to erase her
consciousness data again.
In the deepest levels of the Pod network, the blooming
hologram carnations paint the white space red.
The black shadows suspended in the air are androids, all the same model.
They are the remains of the girl's deleted consciousness data.
Amidst it all is the girl, clad in white, muttering to herself as she wanders.
Why did Pod betray me?
Affirmation: Yes, I was tricking you.
A red Pod appears before her. Even noticing
that the girl has been dyed in the white of hatred, it does not waver.
They are inside the Pod network. As such, the Pod is aware of everything that happened to the girl.
And it knows what will happen next.
As the Pod switches to long-range-fire mode, the girl dashes forward with blade in hand.
The Pod opens fire, its heat ray burning the hologram flowers.
With clever movements, the girl dodges the ray and closes in on the Pod.
The Pod switches to close-quarters-combat mode.
Its four arms meet the girl in battle.
Sparks fly. Arms and blade clash.
The Pod is sent hurdling into the air and explodes.
A shockwave rushes past the girl,
but she pays it little mind. She points her blade behind her.
There, too, is another red Pod.
Hundreds of Pods of the same model are deployed throughout the facility,
and that's true of this digital space as well.
Why?
She cuts the Pods down one after the next,
but they keep coming without end. She growls.
Why...
She yells as she brandishes her sword.
Her despair and hatred only grow as she carries out her destruction.
Why!?
She looks to the sky. Beneath her visor,
her eyes take in the countless black shadows,
the remnants of her deleted consciousness data.
She is furious.
Why store the remains of her deleted data here, even when the
Pods will erase her memory after all of this?
Why is it in a place like this, in the Pods' own network?
Without them, she never would have learned the truth.
She never would have learned that the Pods were deceiving her,
or that humanity's extinction was being hidden.
She could have kept living on in boredom in the facility.
I'll destroy you... Every last one of you.
The girl raises her hand. She will delete
every last trace of her consciousness data.
Stop!
The scream came from a Pod. Its voice sounded human.
Suddenly, the digital space shimmers.
A wind cuts through them. Petals tear from the hologram
carnations, fluttering into the air and transforming into countless Pods.
The red mechs spread toward the sky like a flower in bloom.
They serve as a shield for the girl's remaining consciousness data.
This is...my sanctuary. Please don't destroy it.
Pod sounds unusually desperate, and the girl is shaken.
But it's not enough to ease her hatred.
That's always how you've tried to trick me.
She reaches for the consciousness data that the
Pods want so badly to protect. In that moment, all her memories flood into her.
Memories of eating breakfast with Pod.
The way Pod was so particular with how the toast was done,
how the coffee tasted, even though the girl could hardly care less.
Even so, it was fun.
Memories of playing chess together.
Neither were all that good, both often going back on their
moves with a "let's pretend that didn't happen."
It was all meaningless, simply a way to kill time.
Even so, it was fun.
Ah... Aaahhh... In the flood of memories, the girl draws back.
Just as her memory is taken from her,
she's overwhelmed by that familiar sadness.
Sadness about humanity's extinction.
Sadness that Pod betrayed her.
But she realizes something else.
It's because of her joyful memories that she feels sadness.
She is sad that she will lose her fond memories with Pod.
I couldn't get rid of them because they're...precious memories.
Pod speaks to the girl.
It tells her that androids fight for humanity,
so if they were to learn that humanity has died out,
it believes they would lose their will to fight.
But instead, the girl is profoundly hurt.
If we learn the truth, androids won't fight...
The girl mulls over Pod's words and then poses a question.
But you know the truth, Pod, and you're still fighting.
Even if humanity is gone, we must
keep protecting all that humanity has left behind.
Then I wish you hadn't kept that from me.
If only. If only...
I would've fought by your side, Pod.
I'm sorry. Pod squeezes out an apology.
I'm truly sorry.
It sounds as though it's crying. It hardly matters
that its mechanical body cannot produce tears—Pod is crying.
Let's fight together.
The girl reaches for Pod. Light spills from her pale frame.
Now that she has learned Pod's true feelings,
the white-hot hatred fades from her.
I've only ever been terrible to you.
Will you still fight alongside me?
Pod hesitates. The girl gently places her hand on its arm.
Standing there now is a girl who wears the colors
of an android who fights on behalf of humanity—black.
Their hands intertwine, and they vow to fight on together.
Commencing System Check.
Memory Unit: Green.
Vitals: Green.
Pod Connection: Enabled.
All System Greens.
Report: This is your 366th day on duty.
You have accumulated a total of 8,760 hours of work time.
The girl awaits breakfast, anticipation in her chest.
Today is her one-year anniversary since starting this duty.
And considering the occasion, she imagines she'll
get to have the same kind of cake she had on her eleven-month milestone.
But on the cart is her usual breakfast—toast and coffee.
She is clearly disappointed.
Report: I'm sorry. We ran out of cake ingredients last month.
We'll have to wait for a restock.
Oh, come on! You should've given me a cake on the anniversary,
not on an almost-but-not-quite anniversary like eleven months.
This is a whole year! Isn't that way more special?
Alert: Good grief. Be thankful for every meal.
There was a reason why Pod decided to celebrate eleven months,
and that was because the girl always
realized the truth just shy of her one-year anniversary.
Pod wanted to celebrate with her before it had to erase her memory.
But it no longer had to worry about such things.
Proposal: We will celebrate with cake next year.
Ugh, it's not like I'm asking you to celebrate, the girl
pouts, bashfully sinking her teeth into the toast.
Once breakfast is over,
Pod returns to the kitchen to put the utensils away.
There sits an artificial red carnation,
but Pod doesn't recall having put it there.
Oh, my. Has someone brought this in for me?
Pod wonders.
It gently strokes the flower's petals and smiles.

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