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24 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
24 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
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"A human is nothing more than a machine of a certain level of complexity."
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Thus declared the youth from his lectern in the seedbed of wisdom.
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If one were to disassemble a part of this machine and make enhancements to it,
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Its performance could be greatly amplified.
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With or without a Vision, and irrespective of their physique or combat skills,
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"Enhanced humans" would surely display strength far beyond the average.
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Despite the risk of being denounced as a heretic and permanently cast from the circle of the wise,
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The youth candidly jotted down these thoughts in the margins of his research notes:
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I. As anticipated, no research breakthroughs are possible, given the working style of the Akademiya.
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II. Nevertheless, being expelled would be a loss. One needs an environment conducive to research.
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Following a trail of rumors of heresy, the first of the Fatui tracked him down...
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"Merely an enhanced human? If your great nation can furnish me with sufficient resources and ample time, I could even manufacture that which you would call a god. What say you?"
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In the desert that shone bright like liquid gold, he inquired of the Snezhnayan diplomat:
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"Will you treat me like the Akademiya did? Will you call me a monster, a madman?"
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"Or will you treat me as my hometown did, and chase me away with pitchforks and clubs...?"
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However...
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"Good. Then, we are now in partnership."
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"As for the matter of your title — what do you say to this..."
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Taken completely by surprise by the sheer irony of the title he was given, the young man burst into hysterical laughter. |