Chapter 1421: “Heart”

The intricate machinery began to emit faint clicking sounds. Two softly glowing diamond-shaped crystals floated out from a nearby storage slot, hovering before Diana. The intersecting light they projected formed a web-like screen that swept over her body. In that brief moment, Diana’s memories drifted back many years—to the days when she served as a guard at the Viplanton Observatory.

Back then, life was far simpler. Machines didn’t have to ponder so many questions.

A mechanical arm with a sharp tip moved above the repair bay, precisely prying open the inspection panel on Diana’s abdomen. Inside the mechanical chamber, an old brass core ticked steadily. The magical energy hub and the mind core, both wrapped in protective layers, glowed faintly blue within a gelatinous buffer. Under Ophelia Norton’s direct control, the repair bay’s tools began carefully working on this body, which had long since diverged from its original factory settings. Diana heard the voice of the Legion commander again, echoing from above.

“This might take some time. Many components inside your body have long exceeded their service limits, and there are numerous… unconventional modifications and repairs. Though they’ve barely kept you functional, they’ve placed tremendous strain on your core systems. Now, relax—I’m going to reroute your energy flow externally and remove your magical energy hub.”

“These unconventional modifications and repairs are what kept me alive until today,” Diana said softly. “Without them, I might have died a century ago.”

A brief dizziness washed over her as the magical energy hub was removed, but it quickly faded as the external power source engaged. She blinked, hearing Ophelia’s voice again: “…‘life’ and ‘death’—ordinary iron soldiers rarely apply these words to themselves, even models like you designed for civilian use. You’re very much like a human now, Diana.”

“…That’s probably a side effect of disconnecting from the iron soldier network,” Diana replied slowly. She could feel the tools dismantling her body piece by piece, but there was no pain—her sensory system had automatically switched to repair mode. The sensations from cutting through her synthetic tissue were now pure data streams flowing into her mind core. “I don’t know if this change is good or bad.”

“That depends on you,” Ophelia chuckled softly. “I’m curious—what does it feel like to be disconnected from the iron soldier network? Since the iron soldiers were created, there have been almost no precedents like you. Even when individuals lose connection, I’ve never had the chance to ask them about it.”

“…At first, it was chaos and confusion. Without direct, clear commands, my operational efficiency plummeted. Most of the time, only the instinct to survive remained. Driven by that instinct and a single directive—to ‘escape disaster’—I operated for centuries,” Diana candidly recounted to her former, nominal ‘supreme commander’ things she had never shared with outsiders. “After encountering humans, things began to change. Those humans weren’t my superior nodes, but their aid gave me reason… to help them. At first, I thought it was another ‘command,’ but at some point, I realized it was my own ‘will’…”

“Central connection will now be severed and reset,” a system prompt sounded from beside the repair bay. “Begin cutting.”

A strange tingling sensation surged into her mind core. The next moment, Diana lost all sensation of her body. She felt like a disembodied soul lying on the cold mechanical platform, maintaining only a faint thread of consciousness. Yet her visual and auditory modules still functioned. She could see the dark red “eye” above her and hear Ophelia’s gentle voice.

“Looks like those humans changed you a lot, Diana.”

“…You’re different from the memories… and initial data I have of you,” Diana said, realizing her voice came from a synthetic device in the room. “When I last saw the ‘Veronica’ interface, I had the same feeling—you’re not quite the Ophelia Norton I knew. But I don’t know how to describe the difference. As an ordinary iron soldier, I only ever encountered your will through the mind network. Maybe I’m not qualified to judge…”

“Your judgment is accurate, Diana,” Ophelia’s voice paused briefly. “We’ve all been through a lot. After seven centuries, whether soldier or general, it’s hard to remain as we once were.”

Diana fell silent, quietly sensing the data flowing through her only still-functioning mind core. These data formed her “personality.” As Ophelia had said, she truly was “very much like a human” now—so much so that she suddenly felt nervous like one. “My mind core… and the data stored inside…”

“Your mind core is in poor condition, but compared to other damage, it’s relatively minor. I’ll adjust it, but don’t worry—I won’t touch anything inside,” Ophelia said gently, her voice carrying a tenderness that might have been imagined. “Diana—those data are your memories and your life. Perhaps I understand their meaning even better than you do.”

There seemed to be a deeper meaning in Ophelia’s words, especially when she mentioned “memories and life.” Diana couldn’t quite grasp the emotions buried there. Suddenly, she felt drowsy—a sleep countdown beyond her control. She knew the adjustments to her mind core had begun.

“Now you will enter hibernation until your body is fully restored and rebooted,” Ophelia’s voice came from above, sounding distant. “Any special requests before you sleep?”

“…Please keep the steel plate on the protective layer of my left torso,” Diana whispered. “It’s from the first time they tried to repair my body. I want to keep it as a memento.”

“Alright, I’ll preserve it. Now rest easy, soldier. Sweet dreams. A new life awaits you when you wake.”

…

In the deep control hall, Ophelia Norton sat on a golden throne, her gaze fixed on Gawain.

“Diana’s condition is worse than I expected. I’m surprised that a standard model iron soldier like her could keep operating despite so many malfunctions. I’m also amazed by the ‘ingenious solutions’ those Typhon people devised to keep her going.”

“You seem to care about her a lot,” Gawain said, somewhat surprised. “I assume not every damaged iron soldier gets your personal attention for repairs?”

“Diana’s case is complicated. Her body has undergone many non-standard modifications and repairs. Conventional automatic repair processes risk causing secondary damage… No, as you said, I do care about her.”

“Why?”

“…A person became a machine, and a machine is slowly becoming a person. I don’t know how to describe it, but Diana’s existence reminds me of myself. Though our situations are completely different, I think… we’re both proving the blurry line between ‘human’ and ‘machine,’” Ophelia’s voice was tinged with emotion. “Do you understand this awkward feeling of mine?”

“I understand more than you think.” Gawain smiled. As a satellite intelligence, no one knew better than him the confusion and dissonance of self-identity. He also felt a bit nostalgic—just a few years ago, he never would have imagined discussing cybernetic philosophy with an ancient AI in a place like this. What happened to all the swords and sorcery?

“What are you thinking?” Ophelia noticed the subtle change in Gawain’s expression and grew curious.

“Nothing,” Gawain waved it off, then grew serious. “I came here personally because I have something very special to discuss.”

“Something very special? And it requires you to come all the way down here…” Ophelia shifted slightly on her throne, curiosity lighting her face. Clearly, this body was no longer the rushed prototype from the first day of the conference. Her head was no longer solid (unfortunately losing her chance to compete with Rebecca for the title of Lorren’s toughest iron head). “Sounds like this matter is important—and personal. Please, I’m honored by your trust.”

Gawain nodded. “First, I need to confirm something—your iron soldiers aren’t influenced by gods, right? They’re not part of the ‘Thought Tide’?”

“Of course,” Ophelia answered immediately. “Iron soldiers aren’t human. Even Diana, who now has a ‘heart’ like a human, can’t be part of the ‘Thought Tide.’ I’ve verified this repeatedly.”

“So that means iron soldiers going into space won’t provoke the mortal gods,” Gawain said gravely, “and won’t trigger the final rebellion prematurely.”

“…What are you planning?” Ophelia’s tone grew serious. She seemed to suspect Gawain’s intentions but hesitated to confirm.

“You know about the Legacy of the Voyagers in space,” Gawain said with a soft breath.

“Yes. And this information is no longer a secret among the Alliance’s upper echelons. The ancient dragons of Talrond witnessed the Voyagers leaving, leaving behind those orbital structures above our planet. Though some unknown technology prevents us surface dwellers from seeing those massive constructs. I also know you personally destroyed the Sentinels—using weapons left by the Voyagers.”

“That’s right. I leaked that information—it’s all true,” Gawain nodded. “Have you ever considered… getting close to those ‘legacies’ in orbit?”

Ophelia’s expression shifted again. “You mean…”

“You know I control some of the Voyager legacies, but after so many years, these overextended space stations are on the verge of shutdown. Recently, I’ve been trying to gradually restart and repair them,” Gawain explained his plan. “After the Talrash Conference ends, this restoration project will begin.”

“You want my iron legion to participate?” Ophelia asked seriously, confirming.

“Yes,” Gawain affirmed. “When Byron got lost in the southwest continental sea last time, he discovered an orbital elevator that can transport people from the surface to the space station. I’ve already reactivated this passage and the corresponding station areas. But to bring the entire station ‘back to life,’ I need more manpower. The dragons and sea witches have accepted my invitation, but I think… it’s still not enough.”

“…If that’s the case, the iron legion is indeed a good choice,” Ophelia nodded slightly, her mental matrix calming her earlier excitement into cool calculation. “Considering the unique environment of space, my iron soldiers might even be better suited than dragons for this work. But judging by your expression… you plan to make this public?”

“…Millions witnessed the Sentinel cruiser appear on the battlefield, and then saw its wreckage fall from space, scattered across the ruins of Gondor. After that, large-scale research on the Sentinel remains is bound to begin,” Gawain exhaled softly. “Some things have reached the point where they can no longer be kept secret. Continuing to hide the truth risks destabilizing mortal public opinion. We must quickly establish a clear and accurate understanding of the ‘Voyagers’ among the masses.

“Though mortals cannot yet set foot among the stars, at the very least, we must prevent them from forming misconceptions about what lies beyond.”

Ophelia listened quietly to Gawain’s words, then finally spoke in a low voice: “Battling public opinion is like a race. If correct knowledge and reason don’t win hearts first, ignorance and blind faith will take root. I understand your meaning. The Iron Legion will answer your call at any time.”

“Ah, no need to be so formal,” Gawain said, feeling a bit awkward at Ophelia’s tone. “Though the Deep Blue Well is indeed under Cecil’s protection, here, you are the true master of the Iron Legion—I think we should deal with each other as equals, as friends.”

“Friends, huh…” The delicate ‘doll’ on the throne smiled slowly. “Very well, your loyal friend will always answer your call.”

…

In Cecil City, inside the prayer hall of the Cathedral of Light, Veronica, standing before the pulpit with her eyes closed, slowly opened them.

A faint glow flickered in her eyes, and a soft, holy light drifted gently around the ‘Saint Princess.’ This sacred radiance, as always, made her seem pure and otherworldly—aloof from the mundane world. But the ethereal feeling didn’t last long. A faint smile appeared on her face, quickly softening that distant aura and bringing a spark of life to her expression.

She exhaled softly, smoothing the folds of her clerical robes, signaling the end of today’s prayers. Reaching for the platinum staff resting nearby, a cheerful voice sounded beside her: “You look happy today, Your Holiness.”

Veronica turned toward the voice and saw a novice sister responsible for cleaning the cathedral smiling up at her. She recognized the girl—fresh out of the church school this year, lively and bright. The girl dreamed of becoming a warrior nun spreading the gospel. Though she had failed the last physical and staff combat tests, she had recently signed up again for the winter nun selection. In the renewed Church of the Holy Light, energetic young people like her were quite common.

Veronica smiled. “Is it that obvious?”

The petite novice answered honestly, “A little. It’s rare to see you smile like that. You’re always smiling, but today’s smile feels different.”

“I really am happy.” Veronica smiled again, then on impulse reached out and ruffled the novice’s hair. The girl froze in surprise, and Veronica herself paused for a moment—though she was usually known in the church for her gentle and approachable demeanor, this was the first time she’d done something like this.

This wasn’t the usual composed, serene, and reserved ‘Saint Princess.’

But it was very much like the Ophelia who had lived seven hundred years ago.

Her smile grew a little brighter as she ruffled the novice’s hair once more. “I really am happy.”

(End of chapter)