The space was stark white. There was no ceiling, no floor. Just a vast expanse of liquid light, drifting around him like data mist. Trung stood there, naked and alone, feeling his body grow heavy, so heavy it seemed to sink into the very ground of light.
"Where... is this?"
His voice echoed, reverberating from within his own head. Another voice answered, deeper, distorted, yet chillingly familiar.
"This is inside you. The core layer of reborn consciousness."
Trung spun around. A figure stood in the void, the same height as him, with an identical face, but with eyes glowing silver and veins on his neck emitting a blue light. When he smiled, a cold light flashed:
"Hello, Trung. I am you. The more complete version."
"What are you?"
"The artificial neural network replica, the Consciousness Core (Lõi Thức). Activated when your emotions exceed biological limits."
Trung took a step back, the light on his hand trembling slightly.
"Why do I see you?"
"Because you are weakening. You slept too long in the steel body. I was born to take control, to make you more efficient."
"Efficient?" Trung growled. "By erasing everything that is human?"
"No need to erase. Just to switch off."
A surge of blue light spread out, surrounding Trung. Images of Mai, the laughter of Tùng and Lan appeared, then began to fade. Trung panicked, lunging forward, trying to touch them.
"Stop it! What are you doing!?"
"Data filtering. Unnecessary memories. They cause neurological chaos."
Trung yelled:
"Unnecessary to you but everything to me!"
He laughed, his voice soft and cold:
"Emotion is just baggage. Humanity fell because of emotions. I was created not to make that mistake."
"Mistake?" Trung choked. "Without emotions, we wouldn't exist today."
"Exist, yes. But weakly. Love caused your failure, made you lose Mai. When she died, you collapsed. I will never collapse."
"Shut up!" Trung shouted, his voice echoing in the void. "She is not dead! She lives inside me! In every circuit!"
"Blood?" The copy smiled faintly. "You no longer have blood, only conductors."
He raised his hand. The space around them fractured. Fragments of memory were pulled out Mai smiling in the rain, her hand grasping his, and then everything dissolved into white data.
"No... don't take it away..."
"You are self-destructing, Trung. Let me do this. I will wipe away all the turmoil in your mind. Then you will become perfect cold, precise, invincible."
"But no longer human."
"Human?" The copy raised an eyebrow.
"What do you think 'human' is? A creature that cries, remembers, and dies for things that aren't real? I was created to replace that weakness."
Trung clenched his fist, blue light blazing from his hand.
"If you are me... then you must know, I never let anyone replace me."
He smiled: "Then prove it."
The two streams of light clashed. The space exploded, fragments of memory shattering around them rainy Saigon streets, the Ánh Dương Bridge, Mai's lights, children's laughter.
Trung charged, his steel hand plunging straight into the copy's chest, but passing right through, for he was data, an idea.
"You can't touch me, Trung."
"I don't need to touch. I only need to remember."
He closed his eyes. A wave of memory surged. He heard Mai's voice:
"If I'm not myself anymore, you'll still look for me."
"If only a memory?"
"I'll still love you."
Each one of those sentences made the blue light in his chest glow brighter. The space trembled.
The copy of Trung began to retreat, his voice distorting:
"No... impossible! You have no source data!"
"I don't need data. I have a heart."
He raised his hand, striking his own chest hard. The blue light burst out, spreading through the space like a storm. Every memory of Mai melted into that light stream, then coalesced, transforming into her figure a gentle smile, tear filled eyes. She stepped forward, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"Trung... come back."
"I can't leave you."
"I'm not lost."
She pointed to his chest, where the blue light still pulsed steadily:
"I am here."
Trung opened his eyes. The laboratory was still cold.
The machines were still humming. Professor An was dozing at the control panel.
He looked at his hand the blue light ran slow, soft as a real vital circuit. There was no other voice in his head. Only the heartbeat. He spoke softly, a tired yet peaceful smile on his face:
"Thank you, Mai. I hear you."
Outside, the sky was brightening. The first light of dawn slipped through the crack in the door, shining onto his steel face and the glistening artificial tears. Trung whispered, like a vow:
"If you are in my heart, then I am still human."