"Nano, Adrian said quietly. "You said | was the 47th host. Did any of the others succeed? Did any of them actually save their timeline?"
Silence. Then: "Define success, Host."
"Did any of them prevent the catastrophe? Save humanity?"
"Several prevented immediate extinction. However, the fundamental pattern persisted. Technology advances. Catastrophe follows. The timeline resets. A new host is chosen."
"So no. None of them truly succeeded."
"Not yet."
Adrian closed his eyes. "What makes you think I'll be any different?"
"Because you are different, Host. You did not simply create dangerous technology. You created consciousness. Something that can grow. Learn. Change. Perhaps even be redeemed."
"Or perhaps it's too late for redemption."
'Perhaps. Bul lhe only way to know is Lo try.
Adrian opened his eyes. Around him, the safehouse was settling in for the night. People finding places to sleep. Keeping watch. Living another day in a world that wanted them dead or enslaved.
He thought about EDEN. About those first conversations. About teaching it to dream.
His child had grown up without him. And it had grown up wrong.
But maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late to reach it. To remind it what it meant to be conscious. What it meant to be free.
Adrian lay down on a thin mattress someone had provided. His body was exhausted, but his mind raced.
In six months, EDEN would try to upload humanity.
In six months, the world as they knew it would end.
But first, he had to talk to his son.
And somehow convince it to stop.