Chapter 352: Essence
Summoning forth a world map, she swept her eyes over the data it held—technological dead zones, reclaimed human territories, population distribution, and projected routes for military power.
Hera studied the map as she walked through a city left broken in the aftermath of war. She stepped into an area cordoned off by golden chains.
There, crouched upon a massive stone pillar, was a half-dragon being clad in icy-blue scales. Its long, jagged tail scraped across the concrete ground, carving deep grooves with every sweep. From between rows of razor-sharp fangs poured a frigid white mist, its murderous aura chilling to the bone.
Atop its broad shoulder stood a saintly maiden in a black nun's habit. Her hands were folded before her chest, long lashes resting against her cheeks, as though she were praying for the souls of the departed.
In front of this strange pair, golden chains shot from the earth, binding tight around a gigantic twisted mass of metal. The radiance they gave off was dazzling, almost beautiful.
"Hmph."
Seeing Hera approach, Siegfried—now in his half-dragon form—let out a grunt, the heavy sound shattering loose chunks of cement around them. Then he closed his eyes, silent, suppressing his hostility toward her with sheer will.
From his shoulder, Theresa leapt down. Her nun's robe fluttered gracefully in the air before she landed. Her expression shifted as she looked at Hera, but at last she offered a gentle smile.
"Grandpa, as you requested, we captured a live specimen. The rest is up to your wisdom."
"Well done. As expected of my little Theresa!"
Hera stepped forward, bent down, and lightly embraced the delicate, doll-like nun before her. She ran her hand through Theresa's soft, snowy hair, her face aglow with tender affection.
Theresa stiffened for a moment, then returned to normal. She gently pushed him back, her tone reproachful.
"Grandpa! Now's not the time for this—please, be serious!"
"Oh, how unlovable my little Theresa has become! Back then, whenever I held you like this, you would happily snuggle right into my arms."
"…Siegfried is still here. Unless you want to see a battlesuit scrapped, I suggest you get to work. The entire world is waiting on your results."
"Very well. Since my little Theresa insists."
Pinching her cheek with a smile, Hera finally straightened. She gave Siegfried a passing glance—yet her eyes betrayed not the slightest ripple.
The Kaslana's fusion warrior genes traced back to Kevin himself—an unparalleled foundation. With Sigurd's long-term modifications, this half-dragon form had long since surpassed conventional limits, making it without doubt a Herrscher-tier combat force in its own right.
But raw strength—so long as it wasn't at Kevin's utterly overwhelming level—was hardly worth Hera's concern.
Her gaze shifted to the colossal monster towering hundreds of meters high. She touched her chin thoughtfully, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"So this is a living Aggregation… its information structure is indeed abnormal. A proliferating state of infection? From a physical standpoint, is it radiation, a field, or particle spread? Or perhaps something stranger still… a kind of memetic transmission?"
Murmuring to herself, Hera's body suddenly dissolved before Theresa's eyes, scattering into countless golden motes of light. Like sparks carried on the wind, they drifted into the vast body of the monster.
"…Hm?"
Siegfried's blood-red eyes widened at the sight, his razor-sharp claws scratching at his own head as he muttered in a low, gravelly voice:
"Damn it… that prick just keeps getting stranger. Honestly, even if it came down to a one-on-one duel, I doubt I could beat him."
"There's no need to doubt that," Theresa replied calmly. "Grandpa's wisdom exists on a level far beyond mortal comprehension. And wisdom grants him a power we can't even begin to imagine. Siegfried… let me warn you again. Unless the day comes when even Sigurd nods his approval, you'd best not raise your claws against Grandpa. Endure it—for the sake of your own life, for the sake of both Kianas, and for the sake of this world."
"I can't say I understand this era very well," Siegfried rumbled, closing his claws into a fist, "but for the sake of my daughters, I'll do whatever it takes to protect this world. That includes swallowing my grudge against Otto—for now. After all, he did agree to look into Kiana's condition and try to help her. I don't trust Otto, but if Welt and that boy Sigurd are willing to vouch for him, I suppose I have no choice but to give it a try."
"Kiana…" Theresa lowered her gaze, her voice carrying a sigh. "We don't even know what state she's in anymore. The only ones who can truly reach her now are Sigurd and Grandpa. Believe in him, Siegfried. Since Sigurd appeared, I can feel it… Grandpa really has changed."
Her words weren't just meant for Siegfried—they were also her own attempt at self-convincing.
'Cecilia… I'm sorry. In the end, I really am useless.'
Theresa hid her sorrow and frustration beneath downcast lashes. Siegfried seemed to sense it, for he too fell silent, closing his eyes once more. Perhaps he too was thinking of Cecilia, whispering his apologies to his long-lost wife.
Then—
Crack!Crack!
The golden chains holding the massive aberration shuddered violently.
Both Theresa and Siegfried's heads snapped upward. The creature bound in radiant chains began trembling in an unnatural way. Moments later, the great mechanical form—once held tight as though no force could break it—suddenly unraveled. Its body shattered into countless fragments, collapsing from its restraints and piling into a mountain of twisted mechanical wreckage.
Golden motes of light circled Theresa, swirling once before converging again. Slowly, they reassembled into the form of Hera.
She stood before them with a serene smile, balancing in her palm a glassy sphere no bigger than her hand. Within the sphere writhed a restless cloud of ashen-gray mist, thrashing against its prison.
Theresa frowned, tension filling her eyes.
"Is that… the monster's core?"
"Part of it," Hera answered lightly. "From the perspective of Information-Origin Theory, erosion is essentially information pollution. And that creature's essence? Nothing more than a polluted information-body feeding on a specific host structure. What you see here is but a fragment of its vast information network. From a physical standpoint, though, its composition is hard to pin down. It seems fluid-like, yet its density defies measurement. On the micro level, its structure is unstable, fluctuating constantly. Many of its properties still require deeper research… But if you'd rather think of this as the 'core,' then that works too."
Theresa's expression grew more and more clouded with confusion. At last, Hera stopped herself mid-analysis.
Long ago, in an attempt to mold Theresa closer to Kallen, Otto had raised her solely as a warrior, neglecting to cultivate her scientific potential. In this moment, Hera gave that decision a fleeting one-microsecond's worth of repentance.
Then, with a gentle smile, she reached out and patted Theresa's head.
"In any case, that's enough for now. Grandpa still has important work to do. You and Siegfried should continue with the original plan—clearing out the remaining enemies. We'll meet again soon, my little Theresa."
As her words fell, Hera's form dissolved into nothing, vanishing without a trace.
Theresa and Siegfried exchanged a long, wordless glance. Without further discussion, they turned away and departed from the ruined city, heading toward their next battlefield.
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