"So, is this 'young lady' actually safe?"
Roselia’s voice was tinged with a faint edge of wariness.
Her shoulders were pulled tight, and her gaze remained fixed on the android girl. It made sense. Based on what we’d discussed in the car on the way here, there was a very real possibility she might fly into a violent frenzy.
"No problem," I said, offering a thumbs-up.
I had already tinkered with her generator and configured her main circuit so it could be shut down at my discretion. In short, she was the kind of model I could drop with a single finger.
It was one of the perks of my Repair skill. When I performed a restoration almost from scratch, I could reconfigure the internal structure however I saw fit. There was no "Angel Without a Safety Device" here.
Roselia let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping as she gave an exasperated, wry smile.
"Your 'no problems' are rarely anything of the sort, Rei."
She caught me wearing a faint smirk and let out another heavy sigh. Shaking her head, she pressed the back of her hand against her temple.
What was with that look?
Just then, a quiet voice cut through the air.
"...Um, who are you people?"
I turned to see the android—Cecily—clutching both hands against her chest. Her azure hair swayed softly against her shoulders, her eyes wavering with anxiety.
"And... what exactly happened to my body...?"
Her voice was clear, but it carried a distinct tremor. It was only natural; she was currently trapped in a nightmare where she couldn't even tell if she was human anymore.
Sebastian spoke up, his voice a steadying anchor.
"Milady. These individuals... are members of the police organization."
For a fleeting second, his gaze drifted toward me.
Got it.
If I introduced myself as a "Repairman," the explanation would be long, tedious, and probably create more problems than it solved. I decided to play along with Sebastian’s quick thinking. I gave a small nod, and he acknowledged me with a subtle bow.
"...Milady, do you have any memories leading up to the moment you woke?"
At Sebastian’s question, Cecily knit her brows and sat on the edge of the sofa. Her blue hair brushed her cheek as she rested a finger against her chin. Every single movement was as fluid and natural as a human girl's.
"No..." she murmured. "I remember a technician coming... and them inserting a medical chip. But after that..."
Her eyes wandered toward the ceiling, her words emerging as if she were searching through a thick fog.
"...I feel like I was having a dream. A dream where my body was moving on its own, breaking things. Vaguely, I thought I heard someone calling me from far away—"
Silence fell over the room. Roselia crossed her arms, her expression grim.
"...So, no useful memories then," she noted.
I nodded silently. It seemed unlikely we’d get any direct testimony about the incident from Cecily herself. However, the real prize lay elsewhere.
"Do you know anything about Olaf Karvel?"
When I dropped the name, Cecily showed no outward signs of shock. She turned toward me slowly, her expression merely one of deep thought.
"I believe... he was someone from Vira Corp who was in charge of my treatment. But... I’m sorry, I don't know the details beyond that—"
Her voice trailed off, her gaze drifting into space.
Cecily’s reaction was perfectly normal. But the Speech Bubbles were not.
《I think I only heard about him from the technician who assisted me...》
《...Father. He was always trying to fix my body. He told me that one day, I would definitely be cured.》
The messages were doubled. Two speech bubbles, overlapping one another.
One belonged to the Cecily sitting in front of me. The other belonged to the person inside her. Specifically, Olaf Karvel’s daughter.
《—Yes. Father said it was for the sake of my treatment. He was creating chips that incorporated my bio-data.》
The voice of the "other person" appeared silently in a Speech Bubble. Because she existed only as consciousness, her monologue flowed with eerie fluidity.
《To gather samples, he gradually fed information into the medical chips. Minute amounts, but steady.》
The fragments of thought were intermittent, like a blurred record of a dream. Cecily’s lips didn't move, yet the Speech Bubbles were clear as day in my vision. This voice was distinct—a calm, composed woman’s tone.
《It’s like a toxin. Small doses won't trigger a reaction. The goal was to recover my bio-data during the recovery process. But... unexpectedly, there was a subject who reacted too strongly.》
The moment those words appeared, Cecily’s eyes wavered. I wondered if she could sense the presence speaking within her.
"Cecily?" I called out reflexively.
She jumped, looking at me in surprise. She didn't speak, but another bubble floated up.
《—Yes, her. Her body adapted to my data far better than I ever anticipated.》
I see. So Cecily’s condition wasn't a "virus-derived disease" at all—it was a side effect of the experiment.
Her blue hair swayed slightly as the Speech Bubbles continued.
《The fortunate thing was that I was able to build a good relationship with the subject—with Cecily. Under the guise of treatment, I was able to conduct internal medical clinical trials that I couldn't test on myself. Of course, I intended to be as safe as possible.》
Intended, huh? I muttered the word to myself. I’d seen this story a hundred times before. Doctors and researchers using hope as bait to perform experiments that pushed past all moral limits. They break things in the name of saving them. It’s a very specific kind of madness.
《Even so, the outcome didn't change. The treatment samples were piling up, but my own body was already—》
For a second, the Speech Bubble blurred, the characters dissolving into static. After a short pause, the flow resumed.
《—And so, as a final hope, I extracted my personality data. But it was only ever "data." A record. A voice. Echoes of consciousness.》
I lowered my eyes, connecting the dots.
It was clear now. The daughter died before the treatment could save her. Olaf Karvel, unable to let go, "saved" her personality as data. Three years later, something triggered him to move. The bodies of the subjects—the "Designer Babies" like Cecily—already contained her bio-data. He realized he could "overwrite" her personality data onto them.
It was an act of madness, but it was disturbingly logical.
"And that brings us to the present, I take it."
The Speech Bubble flickered, moving as if in response to my words. The others in the room knit their brows, confused by my seemingly random remark.
《...Yes. Your "Repair" called me back. Though I must say, waking up in a mechanical body is quite the complication.》
I scratched my head. This probably happened during that first session with Cecily. As per my usual process, I had reconstructed the internal data.
Cecily’s personality data—and the "other" personality that had been dormant beneath it. Cecily’s own consciousness had been heavily damaged, so she had sunk while Olaf’s daughter rose to the surface. It seemed they shared memories up until the point of the split, but had been separate entities since then.
When I’d repaired the android body earlier, I had focused on the personality data as well. Sure enough, I’d found two consciousnesses bundled together. Going with my gut, I’d set Cecily’s personality as the dominant one.
Cecily—and Olaf’s daughter—simply stared at me. Her expression was the gentle one belonging to Cecily, but it felt as though the face of the woman inside was peeking through the mask.
《...I am a "miracle" in the making. Eventually, this body will be mine as well.》
The whispering Speech Bubble faded into a faint shimmer and vanished.
A miracle, she called it.
It was nothing of the sort. It was just a repairman’s blunder.
Just you wait, I thought. I’ll "repair" you properly next time.