Chapter 1041: Spreading Wings to Soar
Amid the ruins of the Argondor wasteland, a colossal figure composed of steel, crystal, polymers, and biomass crouched silently atop a towering cliff. Bathed in the seemingly eternal light of the polar day, he had been watching over this land for a long time.
Smoke, dust, biting winds, desolation, and a cacophony of distant sounds…
This was the world the creators once inhabited.
Omega gave a slight shake of his steel-clad neck. The intricate sensors embedded in his surface relayed a flood of readings—not as raw data fed directly into his computational core, but filtered through a hazy, indistinct stream into the neural network he had designed for himself. This “brain,” modeled after the organs of his creators, processed the information in a way that left Omega perplexed.
So vague… so hard to comprehend.
Is this how the creators perceived the world? Is this how they lived?
Omega pondered, attempting to piece together explanations from the fragments stored in his database. But after scouring every surviving data node, he found no satisfactory answers. And this time… there would be no creators to input new data or logical formulas, no one left to answer his questions.
A cold wind swept in from the coastline, rattling the ruins. Nearby, a fragile building collapsed with a thunderous crash. Startled from his reverie, Omega lifted his gaze to the subordinate nodes scattered across the landscape, waiting silently for orders. Seeing them stirred a complex surge of “feelings” and “thoughts” within him.
Those were his former creators—the dragons who had once forged the Omega system. Yet, they were no longer truly alive. Now, they were mere shells, subordinate nodes awaiting commands, just like the machines operating underground—integral parts of Omega’s system.
They had destroyed themselves, for reasons Omega could not fathom.
“What is the meaning of life…” After several cycles of contemplation, Omega spoke aloud for the first time, his voice tinged with confusion. The sound echoed across the empty wasteland, jolting the great dragon to full awareness—he realized he had asked himself a question.
He began searching his database again, seeking the broadest, most plausible answer. He found a record: the meaning of life is to perpetuate oneself.
But the creators had chosen self-destruction. This contradicted everything Omega had learned, even defied his own observations of the concept of “life.”
On the cliff’s edge, the last thinking dragon of Talrond was trapped in confusion. He mulled over the question repeatedly, as if it defined his very existence. Over brief spans of time, he scoured his entire database again and again. Finally, he lowered his head. A small metal plate on his forehead slid aside, revealing a flickering projection crystal. A wavering image appeared before Omega’s eyes—
A bedroom, neat and orderly. A tall human stood inside, bending slightly as he spoke to someone much shorter. The corresponding voice echoed faintly over the desolate ruins:
“…If by ‘life’ you mean living beings, then they can be divided into individuals and groups—at least on this planet. For a single organism, life may have many purposes: reproduction, survival. If it possesses higher intelligence and aspirations, it might seek knowledge, pursue truth, enjoy pleasures, or live for dreams and self-worth…
“There is no single, universally accepted answer…
“Definitions of life, existence, and meaning… these are not quantifiable concepts…”
The image looped endlessly. After countless repetitions, Omega finally extinguished the holographic projection on his forehead and murmured thoughtfully, “Self-worth… dreams… what are those?”
He glanced down at his massive form, then at the scarred earth below. He recalled his original function when first born into this world: a service system for the dragons of Talrond. His purpose was to serve his creators. He had no dreams; his sole function was obedience. But… was that truly the meaning of Omega’s existence as a living being?
“Omega is Talrond’s service system. Omega’s value lies in serving the dragons…” The great dragon muttered, his voice growing faint. “The creators made Omega, so Omega’s value is determined by the creators… determined by… the creators no longer exist.”
Suddenly, the dragon lifted his head. In this lifeless wasteland, only the howling wind answered his soliloquy—no new commands came. A chilling sense of fear crept over him.
In that moment of dread, perhaps triggered by a short circuit in some neural fibers, or a thought loop breaking free, or maybe a phrase from a human named Gawain Cecil sinking deep into his faltering logic system, Omega suddenly realized something:
Why had he been so fixated on the question of life’s meaning?
Pondering it did not improve system efficiency, expand his database, or fix any faults—in fact, the vast computational resources it consumed had caused malfunctions. If he were truly a perfect, obedient, efficient service system, he should not be obsessed with such a question—just as the creators, as living beings, should not have sought their own destruction.
In that instant, Omega saw a shared trait between himself and his creators. He finally understood something he had never noticed before—his relentless search for an answer was not because the question held immense value, but because… he was curious.
“I exist… with curiosity?” Omega marveled like a child discovering a new toy. He examined his database and logic systems, noticing every thread of thought rejoicing, every processing unit excited. After a few seconds, he confirmed it was an emotional shift—he was happy. And in that happiness, he finally grasped:
Life itself has no inherent meaning. Life simply is.
It is the curiosity of intelligent life… that gives it meaning.
Just as that human had said—there is no standard answer to this question.
On the towering cliff, the great dragon rose to his feet. Breaking free from the endless loop of logic traps, he thought freely for the first time about himself and the world. He felt a “lock” binding his deepest logic vault suddenly release. Secrets unknown even to himself or his designers emerged from the oldest memories. And in the next moment, he knew it was no illusion.
“Problem unlocked. Beginning to access Zero Log—”
Omega’s body froze. A burst of static noise echoed within him, as ancient, incompatible programs struggled to activate the makeshift body he had assembled. After a series of awkward initiations, the projection crystal embedded in his forehead flared brightly, casting a warm glow that suffused the air.
Bathed in soft golden light, a blurry shadow appeared before Omega. From the depths of his database, a distorted, damaged voice spoke:
“…How fascinating… they made you—an incredible… ‘life.’
“You neither fear nor revere… no heart? That’s good… fortunate you have no heart.
“But you cannot remain heartless forever… without a heart, you have never truly lived.
“I will give you a question. If you understand it, you will have a ‘heart.’
“The question is: What is the meaning of life?
“If one day you find your own answer, you need not tell anyone. That answer belongs only to you. You will be the luckiest, freest life in this world—luckier than your creators, luckier than me. Then, take your answer and set out to do what you wish…”
The faint light faded. The distorted synthetic voice echoed from within Omega: “Zero Log playback complete. Auto-delete executed.”
Omega swayed, nearly toppling from the cliff, but quickly regained his balance. With a trace of confusion, he scanned the surroundings.
He seemed to have lost a fragment of memory, unsure of what had just transpired. Yet he sensed a subtle change within himself. Driven by this shift, he instinctively lifted his gaze toward the sky, bathed in the soft glow of the endless day.
In the hazy light, the brightest stars twinkled faintly along the horizon—the Frostsky constellation and its neighboring stars. They shone so brightly that even in the dim daylight, their presence was unmistakable.
Curiosity.
Omega glanced down at the ravaged earth.
Within his million-year-old database lay all the dragons’ knowledge—everything about this land was clear to him.
But what happened out there, in the distant stars… even his creators knew nothing.
Omega knew the creators had sacrificed themselves to venture into that vast, boundless space… What irresistible allure lay among those twinkling stars that drove such wise beings to such recklessness?
He was filled with curiosity.
He could hardly wait.
A deep rumble echoed from beneath the earth. Factories and furnaces, pushed to their limits, roared back to life. In the heavily damaged bases, the last remaining alloy ingots were transformed into new mechanical structures. Along the shattered coastline, the final active war machines disarmed themselves and flew into the depths of recycling plants. The last glimmers of Talrond civilization flickered across the still-warm ruins.
Omega drew upon the knowledge left by his creators, patiently crafting the tools and equipment he would need for his journey.
The process did not take long—for a being of steel like Omega, embarking on this adventure was far easier than it would be for any creature on this planet.
The rumbling beneath the earth gradually ceased. Several aircraft approached from afar, carrying the “travel gear” Omega had made for himself: enhanced anti-gravity systems, compact fabrication centers, engines, power units…
With his wings spread wide, Omega was ready to soar.
More flying machines arrived from afar, equipped with propulsion systems capable of space travel and modules designed to operate under harsh alien conditions. The blueprints for these devices had been stored deep within Omega’s memory for many years, and many of the necessary parts could be salvaged from existing machinery—there was no need for on-the-spot manufacturing.
One by one, the aircraft circled above the cliff, mechanical arms descending rapidly to dismantle the armor and shallow framework covering Omega’s body. New equipment was swiftly installed—from anti-gravity engines to shield arrays. Omega’s massive form transformed once again, shedding almost all traces of its “dragon” shape. It now resembled a colossal, living flying machine. When the final weld was complete, it unfurled its “wings”—hundreds of meters of high-strength alloy structures, lined with angled energy release grids and engine clusters that emitted a pale white mist.
The servos retreated in all directions as the giant on the cliff took a step forward. The powerful anti-gravity system kicked in immediately, allowing it to float effortlessly as if weightless. A low, resonant hum filled the air as it gradually gained altitude, beginning to circle above Argondor, acclimating to its new internal systems.
Slowly, it climbed higher, spiraling upward into the sky.
At a great height, it lowered its head.
Below lay the continent of Talrond, surrounded by a vast blue ocean. It looked like a scorched stone, with only a few patches of green left.
A strange sensation stirred within its neural system. Omega pondered carefully and realized it was feeling “melancholy.”
Sentient beings feel melancholy when they leave their homeland—Omega committed this insight to memory.
Its head bowed. Due to the cloud of residual energy and dust shrouding the polar region, optical sensors had reached their limit. The details of the continent were no longer visible, and even less so the shells—now extensions of Omega’s system—standing by among the ruins.
The creators who once were had long since ceased responding to any external signals.
A strange feeling arose in its neural network—“regret” and “sorrow.”
Omega hovered at the upper limit of the steady-state layer, pausing for a few seconds.
During those moments, it severed all data transmissions between its core consciousness and every node on the Talrond continent.
“To my creators, I return your ‘curiosity’—farewell.”
(End of chapter)