Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1042: Chapter 1041: Soaring on New Wings

On the desolate lands of Agondale, a colossal figure composed of steel, crystals, polymers, and biomass sat silently perched atop a towering cliff. Under the seemingly eternal glow of the polar day, he had been overlooking this land for a long time.

Smoke, dust, cold wind, wasteland, a cacophony of sounds...

This was the world inhabited by the creators.

Omega slightly shook his neck covered with steel, various readings from the sophisticated sensors on his surface flowed not into his computing nodes but into his self-designed nervous system, into his ”brain”—a replication of the organs of his creators. The outputs from processing these readings left Omega perplexed.

So... indistinct, so... incomprehensible.

Is this the world the creators usually perceive? Is this how they live their daily lives?

Omega pondered, trying to synthesize some answers to the current situation from his database, yet after traversing all the remaining data nodes, he found nothing suitable. And this time... no longer would there be creators to input new data and logic formulas for him; no creator could answer his questions anymore.

A cold wind from the coastline swept over the ruins, causing a fragile building not far away to collapse with a series of vibrations. Awoken from his contemplation, Omega raised his head to gaze at those subordinate nodes that awaited orders—the sight of which brought him more and more complex ”feelings” and ”thoughts.”

Those were once his creators, the Dragonkin who once created the Omega System, but now they were nothing more than shells, subordinate nodes waiting for orders, a part of the Omega System, like the machines operating underground.

They destroyed themselves for reasons Omega could not comprehend.

”What is the purpose of life...” After pondering for several time units, Omega spoke for the first time with his ”throat,” yet it was a voice filled with confusion, a self-murmur that only when it echoed across the lonely ruins did this ”dragon” suddenly awaken—realizing he had asked himself a question.

He began to search his database, and among the most broad and closely correct answers, he found the corresponding record—the purpose of life is to perpetuate itself.

But the creators chose self-destruction, which did not conform to what Omega had once learned, nor to Omega’s observational conclusion of the concept of ”life.”

On the cliff of ruins, the last dragon capable of thought in Talronde fell into confusion, pondering over and over, as if this question was the entirety of his reason for existence—in several brief time units, he traversed his entire database repeatedly, and eventually, he lowered his head. Above his forehead, a small metal panel slid aside, exposing a flashing Projection Crystal to the air, whereupon its surface displayed a flickering glow. In the next second, a recorded image materialized in front of Omega—

It was a bedroom, clean and tidy, where a tall human being stood. He was bending over, seemingly speaking to a much shorter target, and the voice recording echoed across the desolate ruins:

”...If by ’life’ you mean living beings, then it is divided into individuals and collectives, at least on this planet. For a single living being, it may have many meanings for existence, perhaps for reproduction, perhaps for survival, if it possesses higher intelligence and pursuits, then perhaps for acquiring knowledge, for pursuing truth, for better enjoyment, or even for dreams and self-value to live...

”There is no single, universally accepted answer...

”The definition of life, the definition of existence, the definition of meaning... these are not quantifiable concepts...”

The images looped, repeating an unknown number of cycles before Omega finally extinguished the holographic projection on his forehead and, with a tone as if pondering, murmured, ”Self-value... dreams... what are those?”

He glanced down at his massive form, then at the devastated land. He recalled his initial ”function” upon arriving in this world, remembering he was supposed to be the ”service system” on this continent—his reason for existence was to serve the creators, to serve the Dragonkin of Talronde. He had no dreams, his only role was to follow orders, but... was this truly the meaning of ”Omega” as a living entity?

”Omega is Talronde’s service system, Omega’s value of existence is to serve the Dragonkin...” The dragon on the cliff muttered as his voice gradually waned, ”The creators created Omega, hence Omega’s value is determined by the creators... it is determined by the creators... the creators no longer exist.”

The dragon suddenly lifted his head, in this lifeless ruin, only the howling cold winds responded to his murmurs—no one would issue new commands, which unexpectedly made him feel somewhat... afraid.

And in that moment of ”trepidation,” perhaps due to some nerve fiber suddenly short-circuiting, or perhaps a thinking loop suddenly breaking free from constraints, or even perhaps some words spoken by that human named Gawain Cecil reached the deepest part of a nearly collapsing logic system, Omega had a sudden realization:

Why was he persistently fixated on the question of ”the meaning of life”?

Pondering this question did not enhance system efficiency, increase database capacity, or resolve any malfunctions—quite the contrary, the enormous computing power it occupied even led to malfunction-like results. If he were truly a perfect, order-obeying, efficient, and precise service system, he inherently should not be fixated on this question, similar to how the ”life” creators should not voluntarily seek destruction.

In that moment, Omega discovered a commonality between himself and the creators and finally realized something he had never noticed—the reason he was so earnestly seeking an answer to a question was not because of the question’s inherent immense value, but because... he was ”curious.”

”I exist... ’curiosity’?” Omega felt like a child discovering a new toy, marveling at his database and logic system. He found every thought thread jubilant, every processing unit exhilarated. It took him a few seconds to confirm this as a form of ”emotional change,” finding himself delighted. Beyond the joy, he finally understood:

Life itself has no meaning; life is just life.

It is the curiosity of intelligent life... that bestows meaning upon everything.

It is just as the human said—this question has no standard answer.

On the towering cliff, the dragon suddenly stood up, breaking free from the dead-end loop of logic traps, contemplating himself and everything in the world for the first time freely. He felt a ”lock” that bound the deepest logic libraries suddenly released, and some ”secrets” unknown even to himself or his designers were unleashed from those oldest memories—next moment, realizing it was no ”illusion” of his own.

”Issue unlocked, beginning to access Log Zero—”

Omega’s body fell into silence for a moment, a noise emanated from within him, as though some ancient, incompatible program was struggling to commandeer this makeshift body. After a series of not-so-smooth activations and calls, the Projection Crystal embedded in his forehead suddenly brightened, with warm light emanating and saturating the surrounding air.

In a faint golden glow, a blurry silhouette appeared before Omega, the ancient imagery buried deep in his database accompanied by a somewhat distorted and damaged voice:

”...How interesting...They created you, an unbelievable...’life’.

”You neither fear nor revere...no heart, right? That’s good...luckily you have no heart.

”But you can’t be without a heart forever...without it forever, you will never have truly lived.

”Let me give you a question, if you can figure it out, then you’ll have a ’heart’.

”The question is: What is the meaning of life?

”If one day, you have your own answer, you need not tell anyone, for this answer belongs solely to you. You will be the luckiest and freest being in this world—luckier than your creators, even luckier than me. When that time comes, take your answer and set off to do whatever you want...”

The soft light in the air gradually dispersed, an audio that slightly distorted from within Omega played: ”Log Zero playback complete, automatic deletion—executed.”

Omega’s body swayed as if about to fall from a cliff, but soon he regained stability and looked around with a hint of confusion.

He seemed to have lost a small fragment of memory, not knowing what had just happened, but he felt as though something inside him had subtly changed. Driven by this change, he involuntarily raised his head to look at the sky suffused with gentle twilight during the perpetual day.

In the hazy daylight, one could faintly see some of the brightest stars twinkling at the edge of the sky, the light from the Frost Throne Constellation and its neighbor stars—those stars were so bright that they could reveal themselves even in this dim daytime glow.

Curiosity.

Omega looked down at the scarred earth.

Within his data library accumulated over millions of years, he stored all the knowledge of the Dragonkin; about everything on this land, he knew very clearly.

But what happens in the distant starry sky...even his creators knew nothing about.

Omega knew that the creators were determined to reach that vast and boundless space at the cost of self-destruction...what kind of allure existed among those twinkling stars that made these intelligent creators so resolute?

He was filled with curiosity about it.

He could no longer wait.

A rumbling sound came from the depths of the earth, as factories and furnaces on the brink of extreme limits began running again. In severely damaged bases, the last remaining alloy ingots began being transformed into new mechanical structures. On the fragmented coastline, the last batch of unarmed combat machines flew deep into the recycling factory. The last glimmer of Talronde civilization shone in these not yet cooled ruins as Omega, utilizing the knowledge left by his creators, patiently manufactured all the necessities for embarking on an adventure journey.

This process did not last long—for Omega, who possessed a body of steel, the difficulty of embarking on such a journey was far less than for any organism on this planet.

The rumbling from the depths of the earth gradually stopped. A few aircraft came from afar, carrying the ”travel equipment” Omega crafted for himself: more powerful anti-gravity systems, a small processing center, engines, energy devices...

More aircraft flew from afar equipped with propulsion devices sufficient for long-distance travel in space and various modules that could function under harsh alien conditions—blueprints for these devices were stored deep within Omega’s memory; even many necessary components could be dismantled from existing machinery, completely avoiding the need for temporary production.

One by one, the aircraft circled and hovered above the cliff; robotic arms dropped from the sky, rapidly dismantling Omega’s surface armor and shallow framework, quickly installing new gear from Anti-gravity Engines to barrier groups—Omega’s massive body once again transformed, shedding the ”dragon” form to resemble a gigantic, living flying object. After the last weld was completed, he unfolded his ”wings”—the hundred-meter-long high-strength alloy structure with inclined arranged energy release grids and engine groups emitting a pale white mist.

The service aircraft retreated to the sides as the dragon on the cliff took a slow step forward—the powerful anti-gravity device immediately exerted its function, allowing him to float lightly as if weightless. Then, with a deep hum, he slowly gained some height and began circling above Agondale, adjusting to the new systems within him.

Gradually, he climbed to a higher altitude, spiral ascending.

At a very high altitude, he lowered his head.

The Talronde Continent lay directly below him, surrounded by a blue ocean, like a charred stone with only a few traces of greenery remaining.

Another strange feeling emerged from his neural systems. After a moment of serious thought, Omega realized this sensation was ”sadness”.

Sapient beings feel sadness when leaving their home planet—Omega had learned this experience.

He held his head low; due to the waste energy clouds and dust enshrouding the Arctic Region, optical capture had reached its limit, and the details of the continent were no longer discernible, let alone those shells that remained at the Omega System’s end amidst the ruins on standby.

The once creators, now unresponsive to any external information.

A strange feeling emerged in the neural system, this being ”regret” and ”sorrow”.

Omega paused at the apex of the Steady-State Limit Layer, hovering there for several seconds.

During those seconds, he sequentially severed data transmissions between his conscious body and all nodes on the Talronde Continent.

”To you, creators, I return ’curiosity’—farewell.”