"What are they talking about in there?"
Outside the door of the infirmary, Number 11 pressed her ear tightly against it, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two inside.
But this was Anti-Air Section Six—the room's soundproofing system was absolutely top-notch.
"Number 11, you really shouldn't be doing this sort of thing—it's their privacy, after all."
"Say that again after you've turned off your Ether Vision."
Number 11 silently grumbled to herself; Trigger's gaze had never once left the wall, clearly having been peeping the whole time—and yet she still had the nerve to say what Number 11 was doing was wrong.
"This... wait, they're about to come out."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than came the sound of the door handle being turned. Number 11, who had just been leaning against the door, suddenly tumbled forward, slamming squarely into Geno's sturdy, well-muscled chest.
"Number 11? What are you doing?"
Geno looked down with some confusion at Number 11, sprawled against him.
Number 11 hurriedly stood up, raised a small clenched fist to her lips, and gave two light coughs. "Ahem, ahem—I was just a little concerned about you two. Speaking of which, have you made up?"
Seeing Number 11's faintly flushed cheeks, Twiggy didn't expose her attempt to change the subject.
She then swept her gaze over the others present.
"Everyone, I'm sorry. I made you all worry."
Twiggy gave a bow, apologizing to them all, and then returned to her usual confident composure.
"I know you all want to know what happened to me. But before that, I'd like to explain something else to you first."
As she spoke, she looked toward Geno at her side, and after receiving an affirming look from him, Twiggy continued.
"You know that Anby and I are both members of the artificial human squad from the Defense Force's Silver Project."
"Although, as artificial humans, our combat capability is higher and our physical constitution stronger than that of ordinary soldiers,"
"In exchange, our lifespans are far shorter than those of ordinary human soldiers."
"Wait? What do you mean, far shorter lifespans? I've never heard of anything like that."
Number 11's eyes went wide, staring in astonishment at Twiggy, who had spoken such shocking words.
Beside her, Anby wore the expression of someone who had long known, still sitting there steadily as she pressed Number 11 back down into her seat, signaling Twiggy to finish telling the story.
"Everyone, do you know the story of the world's first cloned sheep?"
At the end of that story, although the cloned sheep was successfully born into this world, the latter half of her life was not a happy one.
Aging, disease—these problems plagued the cloned sheep, and plagued the scientists as well.
Until the final physical examination, when they detected that this little sheep—whose body, at a normal age, should have been like a human in their twenties or thirties—had bodily functions nearly those of an eighty-year-old elder, they understood.
Cloning was not perfect. The cloning process produced certain defects, and even brought certain dangers.
And the same principle applied to Twiggy and the others as well.
Although countless years had passed and cloning technology had continually advanced, this sinful technology that violated human ethics seemed as though it had been cursed by nature itself.
All of its results ultimately came to no good end.
"Just like those base bodies that were never able to walk out of the incubation chamber alive—we too carry corresponding defects."
Some were emotionally flat, some lacked physical stamina, some had underdeveloped bodies, and some had it manifest in their intellect.
Although their symptoms were none too severe—to the point that they could be overlooked beneath the display of high combat ability,
The problem was always there. It would not vanish; it would only be postponed indefinitely.
So that by the time Twiggy became aware of this problem, it was already too late.
"But the moment I realized that my own life had already begun to gradually wither away, I started to panic."
"I searched like a madwoman for every kind of method that might sustain my life, but without exception, the genetic defect had long since written my fate onto the experiment records in the laboratory."
Twiggy's expression was filled with despair. Her body would gradually disintegrate—first the muscles would atrophy, then would come neural disorder, and finally she would become a vegetative person, unable to speak, unable to move, and at last unable even to preserve consciousness.
Slowly, bit by bit, just waiting like that for the arrival of death.
Perhaps a sudden brain death, or perhaps the rapid failure of some organ, or perhaps a bodily disorder rendering her unable to eat, until she starved to death alive.
Just thinking of the horrifying ordeal she would face in the future was enough to startle Twiggy awake from nightmares.
"Twiggy, you don't have to bear all this alone."
Anby closed her eyes, doing her best to keep her emotions steady.
Because it was not only Twiggy—everyone in the Silver Squad, herself included, might one day in the future have to face the same day. It was simply that Twiggy faced it earlier than the rest of them.
"Anby, I could have accepted my own death. But the moment I realized I still had something in this world that I cared about, I began to fear death."
As Twiggy spoke, her tone gradually grew gentle and soft.
First she looked at Anby and Number 11, then she turned her gaze toward Geno.
At this moment Geno's face was full of heartache—in the corners he had overlooked, what Twiggy had endured was a suffering he could scarcely imagine.
And then, Twiggy finally spoke the crux of the whole matter.
"So, in order to escape this fate, I began to conduct a great many experiments upon my own body."
In order to keep on living, Twiggy performed upon herself many experiments that ordinary people could scarcely imagine.
"I tried to complete my own genes, but it was useless—the experiment records in the base never even recorded who our original bodies were."
"After that, I thought of the form of life by which Geno survives, and wanted to transform myself into an Ethereal."
Yet another earth-shattering statement, but before the others could even be shocked, Twiggy's next words left them even less able to stay calm. "But no matter how I experimented, the final result was, without exception, Etherealization—the test subject's consciousness would, in the end, always dissipate. Until later, I received a special experimental sample—the Sacrificial Demon."
The Sacrificial Demon possessed a stable bodily structure, as well as the power to move freely both inside and outside the Hollow—this was, without a doubt, the key that would allow Twiggy to triumph over her own fate.
Thereafter Twiggy tried using the Sacrificial Demon's materials to conduct a great many experiments, and among them a fair number of by-products were also produced—such as the agent from before that could rapidly heal the body, which was one of them.
The side effect being that it would cause the user to receive a large amount of Ether Corruption.
"I see—so this is the reason behind Grace's Etherealization." Geno finally understood why Grace had become what she was now—and besides, wasn't Grace's current state precisely the result Twiggy had most wanted?
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📚 Forty chapters of advanced reading at Walnut-chan, and it goes straight into keeping the translations on schedule
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