They weren't alive in the traditional sense—not yet—but they were behaving eerily like viruses. (No corona, please!)
They were autonomous, replicating, and consuming energy from their environment. I realized I had stumbled upon the foundations of life in this world.
"Nova," I said aloud, "are you seeing this?"
"Yes, Hiroshi. You have effectively created a self-replicating organic structure. It is comparable to the earliest forms of life."
I couldn't help but smirk. "Aren't we just playing gods here, Nova?"
"Weren't you praying to God, just a few moments ago?" Nova replied, "You're still holding that sanitizer in hand hahah~"
Day 8
I decided to test these "proto-lifeforms" on Zetsu. If I could integrate them into his cellular structure, I might be able to evolve his capabilities. I introduced a controlled batch of the virus-like structures into a small sample of Zetsu's tissue.
The results were... unpredictable. The cells absorbed the proto-lifeforms but began mutating wildly. Within minutes, they had formed a new type of cell—a hybrid between Zetsu's original plant-like structure and the virus.
These new cells were hyper-efficient, storing chakra at an unprecedented rate and regenerating almost instantly.
However, the mutation was unstable—it was like a cancer tumor growing without any direction.
The sample tissue began to expand uncontrollably, forming tumor-like growths. I had to incinerate it before it consumed my entire workstation.
Day 10
I've refined the proto-lifeforms, stabilizing their integration into Zetsu's cells. I've also learned to manipulate their growth patterns using seals, ensuring they only activate under specific conditions. The modified Zetsu tissue now exhibits enhanced regeneration, increased chakra capacity, and even a rudimentary form of intelligence.
Still, the ethical implications weigh on me. What I've created isn't just an enhancement—it's a new form of life. If I release this into the world, it could change everything.
Day 12
I've decided to keep the results of this experiment contained, for now. The modified Zetsu cells are too dangerous to deploy without further testing. However, the implications of what I've discovered are enormous. If I can stabilize this process, I could create soldiers, workers, or even entirely new species tailored for specific tasks!
Day 13
Today, I decided to tackle the next big challenge: creating a Zetsu variant that could directly interface with my sub-quantum string computer. The idea is to make a living "extension" of my computer—a Zetsu that could act as both a mobile data processor and an independent operative. Essentially, I want a living, thinking assistant who can process and analyze information with the same power as my lab's core system.
Attempt #1: The Overload Incident
I started by embedding a seal array into a modified Zetsu cell sample. The seal was designed to link the Zetsu's rudimentary nervous system to the sub-quantum computer's computational framework.
"Okay, Zetsu 1.0," I muttered, placing the sample in a containment pod. "Let's see if you can handle this."
I activated the seal and immediately regretted my life choices.
The moment the connection was established, the Zetsu sample started shaking violently. Its cells glowed faintly before the entire pod exploded with a loud pop. The remains splattered against the walls of the lab, leaving me standing there with bits of Zetsu goo dripping off my face.
Nova chimed in with her usual dry tone: "Hiroshi, it appears that introducing high-frequency computational signals into Zetsu cells causes them to destabilize. Perhaps reducing the data throughput would prevent future explosions."
"Thanks, Nova. I'll be sure to slow things down next time. Also, would it kill you to warn me before things explode?"
"I calculated a 72% chance of failure. I wanted to see the outcome myself."
I wiped the goo off my forehead and sighed. "Well, at least one of us is having fun."
Attempt #2: The Sleepy Zetsu
For the second attempt, I reduced the computational load on the Zetsu cells and adjusted the seal array to filter the data stream. This time, I used a fully grown Zetsu instead of a sample.
"All right, Zetsu 2.0, let's try this again," I said, standing a safe distance away.
When I activated the seal, the Zetsu's eyes glowed faintly, and its body twitched for a moment before going completely limp.
"Nova, what's happening? Did I kill it?"
"No, Hiroshi. Its neural activity has slowed to a crawl. It appears the Zetsu cannot handle even a low-frequency connection to the sub-quantum computer. You have essentially created... a very sleepy plant-man."
Attempt #3: The Error Loop
Determined to succeed, I made significant adjustments to the seal array, adding a stabilizing feedback loop to prevent overload or neural sluggishness.
"This is it," I said, more to myself than to Nova. "Zetsu 3.0 is going to be the one."
I activated the seal, and for a moment, everything seemed to work perfectly. The Zetsu's eyes lit up, and it even spoke.
"Connection established. Awaiting instructions," it said in a flat, robotic tone.
"Yes!" I pumped my fist in the air. "Finally, we're making progress!"
But then the Zetsu started repeating itself.
"Connection established. Awaiting instructions. Connection established. Awaiting instructions. Connection estab—"
"Nova, what's going on?"
"It appears the Zetsu has entered an error loop. Your stabilizing feedback loop is feeding back into itself indefinitely."
"So you're telling me I've created a broken record?"
Attempt #4: Success (Mostly)
After hours of tweaking, debugging, and cleaning up goo, I finally had a breakthrough. I modified the seal array to include a chakra buffer that would act as a bridge between the Zetsu's organic system and the sub-quantum computer.
When I activated the seal, the Zetsu's eyes glowed with a steady light.
"Connection established. System functioning within acceptable parameters," it said, its voice calm and precise.
"Nova?" I asked cautiously.
"The connection is stable, Hiroshi. The Zetsu is now a functional extension of the sub-quantum computer."
I grinned, practically jumping with excitement. "Yes! Zetsu 4.0 is a success!"
The Zetsu tilted its head. "Zetsu 4.0? Is that my name?"
I blinked. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Why?"
"Understood. I shall perform my duties as Zetsu 4.0."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Welcome to the team, 4.0. Just... try not to explode, fall asleep, or repeat yourself endlessly, okay?"
"I will endeavor to avoid those outcomes," it replied with robotic sincerity.
End Journal.