The air in the underground laboratory still maintained a constant temperature. That unique blend of nutrient fluid's sweet scent and the scorched tang of electronic components seemed to isolate this place into a separate pocket of time and space.
Alice stood before Cabinet No. 16, her heterochromatic eyes not focused on the indicator light before her, but gazing through the dim underground chamber into a brilliant, multicolored world only she could see.
"When Alice passed through the second door, everything suddenly became clear."
She softly continued that unfinished story, her voice echoing through the empty aisles, carrying a calming, ethereal quality.
"She saw a magnificent snow-capped mountain on the horizon, the snow atop its peak thick as cream. And before her flowed a roaring river, its water not transparent, but like molten sapphire. On the riverbank stood a small red-brick train station. A boy was sitting on the windowsill of the control room, biting into a shiny red apple with loud crunches."
Arran, expertly pulling out the cabinet's handle, paused to listen.
"Alice walked up and asked him, 'Excuse me, when does the next train arrive?' The boy didn't even glance at her, lazily replying, 'One just left—three minutes ago.'"
Alice imitated the boy's languid tone, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"Alice felt regret. She looked at the empty tracks and said, 'Thanks for the heads-up.' Then she sighed. 'Too bad. I can't possibly catch the train that left three minutes ago. Looks like I'll be stuck waiting here for a while.'"
"At that, the boy shook his head, put down the apple, and looked at Alice like she was a naïve child: 'Forget everything you know. Here, all it takes is a mirror to reverse time.'"
"As he said that, the boy picked up a small round mirror originally used for grooming. With a casual slash through the air—whoosh—the mirror stretched like dough, instantly expanding into an oval the size of a doorway."
"'Go on in. This is the station from five minutes ago,' the boy said, pointing at the mirror."
"Alice leaned in curiously. Inside the mirror was indeed the same station, but everything was upside down—the station sign was inverted, the sky below her feet, the tracks above her head. She tentatively poked the mirror's surface, and smooth glass rippled into spiderweb-like waves. A girl appeared on the inside of the mirror, dressed similarly to the boy but wearing a skirt. She was hanging upside down, waving at Alice and signaling for her to come through."
"Alice cautiously lifted her foot toward the mirror. The moment her toe entered the surface, the entire mirror world seemed to spin 180 degrees under an invisible hand. Gravity flipped; the sky returned to the top. Just like that, Alice passed through the mirror effortlessly, returning to a time five minutes earlier."
"An upside-down mirror... with spiderweb ripples..." Arran's hand froze as he stared at the circuit board, thoughtful. "Could it be... a Newtonian reflector?"
Alice tilted her head. "Newtonian reflector? Like those used for astronomy?"
"Yeah." Arran nodded, his instincts as a mechanic awakening. "These telescopes use a curved primary mirror to focus incoming light, then a slanted secondary mirror reflects the image to the side. Since the light path is flipped, without a correcting prism, the image appears upside down."
He gestured a circular shape. "Also, because the secondary mirror is fixed in the center of the tube, it's supported by cross-shaped or trident-like struts. Light diffracts through these supports, producing radiating spikes when observing bright stars—kind of like spiderwebs."
Alice blinked, surprised. "...That actually sounds a bit like the story the Doctor told! Ah—do you think that apple-eating boy was the famous Isaac Newton?"
"Well... who knows." Arran chuckled awkwardly. "Actually, since it's a fairy tale, I guess it doesn't matter how wild the associations are. After all, in Alice's Wonderland, physics exists to be broken."
"That's true." Alice laughed, then looked at the cabinet Arran had just closed. "Ah, Cabinet No. 17? Without realizing it, we've already serviced so many! You've gotten really good at this, Arran!"
"It's nothing... This—it's only natural." Arran wiped the sweat from his forehead, the kind of exhaustion that comes from intense concentration. "Logic is universal, after all."
Just as he turned to move toward the next cabinet, his step faltered slightly. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling sharply, as if suppressing a wave of nausea.
Alice's smile froze. She had keenly noticed the detail.
"But Arran-sensei—ah, no, Arran... you're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"
Arran paused, quickly waving his hand and forcing a strained smile. "P-Pushing? Of course not. What are you talking about? I'm just a little tired... These cabinets are tall, you know."
"But almost every time you open a cabinet, I see you take several deep breaths when you think I'm not looking." Alice's tone turned serious as she walked up to him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Just now, when dealing with the biofilter in Cabinet No. 15, your hand was trembling. It was only for a moment, but I saw it."
"T-that's just a physical response..." Arran averted his eyes, his voice growing quiet.
Alice puffed her cheeks, looking like an angry hamster. "That's exactly what pushing yourself means! Physical discomfort is still a burden! I know how gross this stuff must look to regular humans. The wriggling probes inside the gel, the semi-transparent biomembranes... even the Doctor's assistants vomited the first time they saw it."
She lowered her head, her voice becoming soft.
"So you don't have to pretend you're okay! If it makes you uncomfortable, we can take a break—or even... even stop altogether. I'm already so grateful."
"I'm sorry," Arran said quietly.
"No need to apologize," Alice shook her head. "I was a bit harsh too. This is your choice, and I shouldn't—"
"No, I mean I'm sorry for making you worry," Arran lifted his head, his eyes clear again. "But I'm not pretending. I do feel discomfort, because this defies my understanding of what 'life' is. But, Alice..."
He pointed to the still-operating cabinets.
"Whenever I imagine that these unsettling tissues are building a soul—one that tells stories, worries about me, and struggles to survive... the disgust turns into awe."
"So please, don't send me away," Arran said firmly. "Think of these deep breaths like a surgeon's pause before an operation."
Alice stared at him. After a long moment, she exhaled and her tense shoulders relaxed.
"...It's fine, it's fine. I've gotten the hang of the maintenance tasks anyway. So from here on, Arran can just handle the controls and keep me company—chat with me, distract me."
"!…" Arran blinked, then smiled, warmth rising in his chest. "Okay."
"Where were we in the story again?"
"Alice passed through the mirror," Arran recalled.
"Yes, yes." Alice composed herself again, her voice lightening. "After Alice passed through the mirror, she found herself standing on a platform paved entirely with chocolate bricks. Just then, a steam train made of dark chocolate with white chocolate windows rolled in, puffing out icing-like steam."
"The door opened, and a large squirrel in a blue conductor's outfit poked its head out from the cockpit. Waving a small flag, it shouted: 'Train to the Cheese Isles has arrived! The train to the Cheese Isles is in! Passengers, please board promptly—don't lick the doors or your tongues will get stuck!'"
"Alice didn't know what the Cheese Isles were. She asked the girl from the mirror: 'Are the Cheese Isles made entirely of cheese?'"
"'Of course!' the girl replied excitedly. 'The Cheese Isles are the most beautiful chain of islands in the galaxy! They have golden beaches made of cheddar, snow mountains made of mozzarella, and buildings, plants, and trees all made of food! You can eat everything!'"
"Alice liked adventures, but she asked, confused: 'But if everyone eats everything, won't the food run out? Won't the islands disappear?'"
"The girl laughed and pointed at the station clock: 'Haven't you heard the saying? Midnight is the hour of miracles. Once the clock strikes twelve, everything resets to how it was. Now, the train's leaving! Let's board first!'"
While pressing the confirmation button for Cabinet No. 32, Arran couldn't help but comment: "Uh... this part of the story got really 'girly' all of a sudden. All sweets."
"Eh? Really?" Alice blinked, confused. "I can't actually taste chocolate or cake. Taste sensors are redundant for me. So... do high-calorie, sweet foods represent 'girlishness' for humans? Is it a cultural symbol?"
"O-of course not!" Arran quickly denied it, face turning red. "Guys like sweets too! It's just... I don't know, the 'everything is edible' setup feels like a child's dream."
"Hmm, human culture is really hard to understand." Alice sighed. "You fear high calories and obesity, yet treat them as symbols of beauty. Humans are contradictions."
"The Doctor said that too," she added.
"Humans are masters of self-deception," Arran chuckled. "Sometimes we make up all sorts of excuses to feel better."
"Self... deception?" Alice mused. "Like, for example, if Alice can call herself a 'girl' because she has this humanoid terminal body... If I were only those rows of cabinets, could I still call myself a girl?"
Arran stopped, turned, and looked at her seriously.
"Ah... That's not really self-deception, is it?"
"Even if you're just rows of computational centers... If you believe you're a girl, then... then you are a girl."
His voice wasn't loud, but it rang through the cavernous basement.
"The shape of a soul shouldn't be decided by its shell. If you don't see yourself as human or a cold machine, then 'girl' or 'Alice'—these are just spiritual symbols. If it fits how you feel, then it's real."
Alice's eyes widened, as if she'd grasped that logic for the first time.
"So that's a valid perspective? Understood."
She suddenly smiled—Arran had never seen a smile so bright.
"I'll proudly admit that I am a girl. Hehe... Four-cell status bar, yellow button, Cabinet 32 complete! Only 26 left."
"Looks like we'll finish maintenance before the story ends," Arran checked their progress.
"Once it's over, does that mean you'll be leaving?" Alice's voice held an almost imperceptible trace of anxiety.
"L-logically, yes, but..." Arran saw the hopeful, reluctant look in her eyes and softened.
"But?"
"Before I leave, I want to hear the rest of your story about Alice," Arran promised. "I don't like hearing only half a story."
"...!" Alice nodded vigorously. "Okay!"
—Meanwhile, on the surface, by the sulfur lake.
The night was thick as ink. Only a few portable gas lamps flickered in the wind, hissing softly.
Miguel and Frank sat on a flat rock, a small magnetic chessboard between them—Frank's portable pastime.
"Check," Frank lazily blew out a smoke ring, dropping a black knight onto the board.
Miguel was about to launch his queen in a final assault, but his hand froze mid-air. He stared at the board for half a minute, a vein twitching on his forehead.
"Wait... something's wrong. How did your knight get there? I blocked that path!"
"That's your mistake, kid," Frank shrugged. "You got too focused on attacking my king and forgot your flanks. That's what we call a tactical win hiding a strategic failure."
"Ugh! One more game!" Miguel angrily scattered the pieces.
"My, my, looks like our valiant Captain of Radiance isn't so sharp on the chessboard."
A teasing voice came from the shadows.
Miguel whipped his head around but saw no one. Not until the voice came again did he realize Faith was standing quietly in a patch of darkness, holding a book with a mischievous smile. Beside him, the ever-silent air force pilot Adrian crossed his arms, clearly amused.
"Pfft." Faith finally couldn't help laughing. "Sorry, couldn't hold it in. Miguel, that face of yours just now—you looked like a rookie knight who thought he could cleave a dragon in half, only to get tail-smacked across the field."
"When did you get here?!" Miguel barked, flustered. "And don't use weird metaphors!"
"Right when you fed him your queen," Adrian added flatly. "In an air battle, you'd have been shot down three times."
"You guys—" Miguel fumed.
Just then, an engine roared in the distance. Blazing searchlights pierced the darkness as a heavily modified hovercraft kicked up dust, barreling toward the lake's edge.
"Frank! I brought the gear and personnel you asked for!"
Veronica jumped down from the hovercraft, waving excitedly. Behind her, a squad of reservist soldiers unloaded heavy gas masks and oxygen tanks.
Beside the supplies, a miserable-looking Ilo struggled with a crate.
"And they dragged me along too..." Ilo grumbled, glasses askew. "Seriously, I'm a desk worker. I should be studying Plato in the library, not inhaling hydrogen sulfide here."
"You had to come! You're a key witness!" Frank clapped Ilo on the shoulder. "Plus, we need someone eloquent. What if the enemy wants to talk it out?"
"Talk? With kidnappers?" Ilo rolled his eyes.
"I heard Arran's kidnapping was half your fault," Adrian said coldly, staring Ilo down. "You brought them to the library, and it was you who lost him in that so-called 'Postmodern Wing.'"
"How is that my fault?! This was a freak incident! You people have no logic!" Ilo exploded.
"Hahaha, just accept your fate, Director." Frank grinned, mediating. "Your brain is still useful to us. And hey, this could be great material for your ontology research."
He turned to Veronica and gave a thumbs-up. "Great job, Veronica. Even faster than I expected. Tomorrow, caramel cake rolls at Gear Oak Café. Double portion."
"Yay! Thanks, Frank!" Veronica beamed, eyes curved into crescent moons.
But the next moment, her smile froze.
The girl's sharp nose twitched as if catching something ominous. She spun around to face the eastern sky—toward Port Alexandra.
"W-wait..."
Veronica's face went pale, her voice trembling.
"What is it?" Miguel immediately gripped his sword.
"Toward the city..." Veronica pointed at the distant horizon. Where there had been only dark night sky, now a sinister red glow crept up. "There's... a smell in the air. Burning and explosions..."
"And it's massive... that's..."
Everyone turned their heads.
A giant pillar of fire, like a volcanic eruption, shot up from the center of Port Alexandra, painting half the sky blood red. Even from this distance, the dull boom of the explosion reached them through the ground.
"Look! That direction! Smoke! That's the City Hall and the Library! Oh god! It's exploded!!"
Veronica screamed in terror.
"AHHH!!!"