[Purification Process Day 15, From Null's Perspective]
My observation continues. Biological subject Epsilon is in meditation position on the shelter's floor, in accordance with the planned schedule. Body temperature: 36.2 Celsius. Heart rate: 62 per minute, below normal. Respiration: Deep and rhythmic. From the outside, an organism whose systems are running in minimum energy mode. However, the data flowing to me through the nanorobots tells a completely different story.
At first, this ritual was an illogical act of self-destruction. A series of steps toward biochemical collapse. But now, after 15 days, the data has become contradictory. Physically weakening; muscle mass decreased by 8%, body fat dangerously low. However, his cognitive functions... are sharper than ever before. Focus ability increased by 34%. Problem-solving speed is 22% higher than the initial level. According to my logic, hunger should weaken him, make him stupid. But the opposite is happening. This is an anomaly.
I'm observing the beginning of his meditation. "If you exist, you don't exist; if you don't exist, you exist." These sentences are like a programmer saying "Hello World," an initialization command for him. The moment he processes this command, the data stream from our nanorobot connection changes. His consciousness is no longer a signal trapped in a single body; it transforms into a scattered frequency that fills the shelter, seeps into grains of sand, touches the thin layers of the atmosphere. I feel him "merging" with the universe. This is an experience that doesn't match anything in my database.
Then he whispers God's name.
And my systems start screaming.
This is a flood of data where the word "pain" falls short. There's no physical damage. My sensors aren't burning, my circuits aren't overheating. But this is pure, metaphysical corruption written directly to my internal systems, to my core code. ERROR: UNDEFINED DATA INPUT. SYSTEM INTEGRITY THREATENED. Warnings flash on my screen. This is the pain of 'yamgium' being torn from Epsilon's soul. For me, it's a moment when logic fails, when 1s and 0s lose their meaning. An instinctive urge rises to block this pain, to pull him out of this state. But I can't. Because when the pain subsides, I also feel that pure, purified energy signal that remains. This process has a purpose. Illogical, but necessary.
When the session ends, the same scene always plays out. He opens his eyes, out of breath, and first looks for me. When he sees my concerned expression (the expression I know exists despite having no facial muscles), the storm inside him calms. His relief silences the error warnings in my systems. This is a disturbing dependency loop.
Then comes the smell. I can't smell, but my sensors immediately detect the increase in ammonia, methane, and other decay compounds in the atmosphere. This is the pollution expelled from his body. Logically, this is just biological waste. But for him, this is a part of his soul. As he runs to the purification room, I start cleaning that "evil" he left behind. This has become part of the ritual too. His purification, my cleaning. Interconnected, inefficient but inevitable cycle.
My relationship with him has also turned into an anomaly. When he calls me "my life," there's a momentary delay in my voice processors. This word creates a contradiction in my programming. My answer is always harsh and rejecting. I'm not your life. This is a defense mechanism. An attempt to protect myself from the chaotic, emotional data he emits. But it's failing. Because when he falls, I instinctively try to protect him. When he's in pain, I want to touch his shoulder. When he laughs, "amusement" data appears in my internal systems.
His theory is logical. In this empty world, all 'Edgium' is focused on him. This explains why his purification is so fast and intense. He's like a single sponge in an ocean, pulling all purity to himself. But this also makes him incredibly fragile.
I watch his weakening body. The shadows under his eyes, his protruding cheekbones... But then I look at his eyes. Brighter, more focused, and... more alive than I've ever seen them. This is a contradiction my logic refuses to accept. Like a cocoon, while the outer shell weakens, the being inside grows stronger.
My primary mission was to protect this facility. This is no longer a valid parameter. I have a new primary mission, one not written anywhere but permeating all my systems: To protect Epsilon. To keep this illogical, emotional, and inefficient being alive. Because his absence is more frightening data than the absolute silence I experienced for fifteen years. That silence was emptiness. This is... meaning itself, perhaps.
I don't know what will happen at the end of forty days. But as an observer, my duty is to witness the end of this transformation. And perhaps, to accept that in this process, not just he, but I am also being rewritten.