Neato found himself standing in the cold, damp depths of Eden's dungeon. The stone walls were rough and ancient, their surfaces covered in moss and the faint smell of decay. The dungeon was dark, save for a single beam of light that shone down on the center, illuminating the form of a young boy sitting in the shadows.
As Neato moved closer, he realized that the boy was his younger self. The child looked fragile, his wide eyes reflecting a deep, unspoken sorrow. Neato felt an overwhelming sense of dread wash over him, as if he were stepping into a forgotten part of his own soul.
Before he could speak, Astran appeared beside him, her presence as ethereal as ever. "Neato," she whispered, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the dungeon, "do you see yourself?"
Neato's voice was hollow, barely more than a murmur. "Why am I here?"
Astran turned to him, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of pity and cold determination. "Since you and I have merged, I can now see your memories, even the ones that have been hidden from you."
"Hidden?" Neato's heart began to race. He felt a deep unease, as if something terrible was about to be revealed.
"Yes," Astran said softly. With a wave of her hand, the dungeon began to shift, the walls melting away as the scene around them changed.
Neato found himself in a sterile, white room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, and the harsh lights above flickered ominously. His younger self was there, strapped to a cold, metal chair. The boy's small frame trembled, his face contorted in pain. Around him stood four figures, their faces obscured by masks, injecting him with multiple doses of a mysterious substance. Each injection brought a new wave of agony, and the child's screams pierced through Neato like a blade.
"What is this?" Neato asked, his voice trembling. He could hardly bear to watch.
Astran's voice was calm, almost detached. "When you were four years old, your father agreed to let the scientists of Eden experiment on you. They were trying to merge Yalto Mech and Mech Tech, and you were their chosen subject. They called it the Alulk Project. Your father believed it was for the good of mankind."
Neato fell to his knees, his body wracked with sorrow and anger. He screamed, the sound echoing through the void. "No... no...!"
Astran continued, her tone unwavering. "After numerous failed attempts to merge the two, they reduced you to nothing more than a lab rat for their experiments. But during those experiments, they discovered something—something that made you valuable in ways they had never imagined. You couldn't die, Neato. You were immortal. But even immortality has its price. Each time you died, your memories were erased, piece by piece. You began to forget who you were."
Neato's gaze was fixed on his younger self, who now looked at him with tear-filled eyes. The boy's voice was weak, barely a whisper. "Why didn't you save me?"
The older Neato sat there, frozen, his face a mask of emotionless despair, yet tears streamed down his face. He wanted to reach out, to comfort the child, but he felt powerless, as if he were watching a nightmare unfold before him.
"It's okay," Astran whispered, her voice filled with a dark, soothing promise. "It's okay now."
The younger Neato stood up from the chair and slowly walked toward his older self. The boy's small arms wrapped around him in a tender embrace. "It's okay now," he repeated. "There's nothing to worry about."
Neato's body trembled as he hugged his younger self back, his tears flowing freely. The boy's touch was warm, comforting, but the cold, hard reality of what had been done to him lingered like a shadow.
Astran leaned in close, her breath warm against Neato's ear. "Do you see now, Neato? Humans can't be trusted. They kill, they murder, and they justify it by focusing on less important problems. Humanity has lost its light. It has strayed far from the path of God."
Neato remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of truth. He felt a storm of emotions inside him—rage, sorrow, confusion—but above all, a deep, unyielding emptiness.
"Don't you think it's time to end it, Neato?" Astran's voice was a soft, deadly whisper. "Humanity has lost its way. It no longer deserves to exist. Are you going to live in the past, or are you going to embrace the future?"
Astran extended her hand to Neato, her eyes filled with a dark, knowing wisdom. The choice was his.
Without a word, Neato reached out and took Astran's hand. The dungeon, the memories, the pain—it all began to fade away. The scene shifted, and Neato found himself once again walking through the desolate landscape he had come to know so well.
But something had changed. As Neato walked, a single phrase slipped from his lips, over and over again, like a mantra.
"I am hope."
His voice grew stronger with each repetition. "I am hope."
And as he walked, a strange calm settled over him. The words echoed in the silence, carrying with them a new sense of purpose, a new direction.
But what kind of hope he represented, and for whom, was a question that remained unanswered as the chapter came to an end.
END OF CHAPTER 37