Ineffa

Regarding mechanical life forms and their "sense of self," a scholar once proposed the following thought experiment: Suppose a machine's parts age and are replaced each day. In time, all of its parts will have been replaced, and none of its original components will remain. At that point, is that machine still its original "self"?

This question never seemed to pose much of a problem for Ineffa: No matter how many times her outer shell or components were replaced, her "core" had always remained the same. Ineffa's core was quite literally her home.

But what would happen if her core were ever dismantled in some way? Which part would represent her then? Even though Ineffa's maker did not yet possess the technological skill, she had always yearned to take apart Ineffa's core and analyze it. Though so far, through fear that she might harm Ineffa, that creator had made no such attempt.

If it was the logic and memory contained within her core that defined her sense of self, then when her memory data disappeared and reappeared, like the hypothetical components being replaced in the thought experiment, would her sense of self not start to morph and become unclear?

Or perhaps, Ineffa could turn to some external arbiter to define her sense of self... like the friends who stand unwavering at her side, no matter what else changes.

For example, the heroic knight who would say to her: "You are the most thorough housemaid I've ever seen... Well, at least the second!"

Or the bounty hunter who would drop by from time to time and say: "You... are probably the best patissier in all of Nod-Krai... or, at least the best robot patissier!"

And what about the whiz-kid mechanic who created her? "You're family! Remember to come back!"

As a result, no matter how many times she forgets or falls into confusion, Ineffa is always certain of one thing:

"I'm Ineffa, the multifunctional robot for domestic application — and I'm your friend."

"The Clink-Clank Krumkake Craftshop has created a robot!" The news didn't take long to spread throughout Nasha Town.

And not far behind were countless bizarre and barely-believable rumors, such as:

She emits a powerful magnetic field that will disrupt everyone's daily lives...

She can see and hear through walls...

She can shoot superheated beams from her palms that melt through rock...

No matter how many times she tried to explain that she could no more hear through walls than she could punch through a knoll (another popular rumor), it had little effect.

After all, most people have a habit of wildly speculating about anything and everything they don't understand — and an aversion to actually investigating the truth.

For her part, Aino didn't seem all that interested in setting the record straight. She simply made sure Ineffa did everything she was supposed to. After all, the vendors in Nasha Town weren't about to refuse your Mora just because you happened to be a robot.

Still somewhat uncertain, Ineffa made the trip to purchase food. To her surprise, after a brief moment of fear, trembling, and mild cowering, the vendors weighed and packed her goods, persuaded by the money in her hand.

Vegetables in hand, Ineffa then visited the blacksmith and the grocery store, to a chorus of startled screams.

When she returned to Nasha Town the next week, the vendors were talking about her in hushed voices. Yet when they saw her coming, their startled shouts were a little more subdued than the week before.

By the third week, they were already able to swallow their shock and curiosity, where it was confined to their expressions alone.

And by the fourth week, the tenor of the rumors swirling around Nasha Town had undergone a marvelous transformation:

Her magnetic field has no effect on the readings on the scales...

Her eyes and ears do nothing to tell her the true cost of goods...

She seems uninterested in melting anyone over a bit of light haggling...

"Why, though? I was simply performing my regular daily duties — I took no special steps to improve the quality of my social interactions."

Again, Aino's interest in the whys of the matter went as far as a waggling of her sleeves. It was as though she never had the slightest doubt that Ineffa would meld seamlessly with the fabric of life in Nasha Town.

After all, in the murky moral soup of Nod-Krai society, a well-meaning and unassuming robot might well prove more trustworthy than the average human.

While constructing and attempting to awaken Ineffa, Aino would often work late into the night, drifting to sleep with her head cradled in the metallic arms of her unfinished creation — a habit that persisted even after Ineffa had been successfully awoken.

Ineffa herself had no problem with this arrangement. Whether from searching her data banks or by analyzing the expressions on Aino's face, it was clear to her that acquiescing to this request would improve not only her mood but also the quality of her sleep. The only problem was that with her metal body's cooling properties, there was an increased risk of Aino catching a cold.

"I'm n—not c—c—cold... A—Achoo!" Aino would insist, even while violently sneezing.

"I recommend you drink some medicine." Ineffa passed her a cup, somewhat helplessly. "Don't worry, I've already added some sugar."

Aino took the warm cup with both hands, her cheeks flushed in the heat rising from the liquid within. "...If only you were as warm as this cup..."

That evening, after Ineffa had finally managed to soothe Aino to sleep, she retired outside the workshop, staring at her hands.

The cold moonlight reflected off her metal shell, beneath which countless cogs, gears, and drive rods were spinning in concert.

There were plenty of ways for this machinery to generate heat — the question was more one of maintaining a suitable temperature when not at full operational capacity.

It was also important to limit acoustic energy production, which would otherwise disturb Aino's sleep. What was needed was something more subtle — something with a fine level of control...

Ineffa cycled through iteration after iteration of calculations and experimentation, using herself as a test subject.

After a few days under Ineffa's gentle care, Aino was almost free of her cold. Then one morning, Ineffa didn't come to wake her up.

It suddenly occurred to Aino that Ineffa had been acting a little odd the last few days, and she couldn't help but worry — what if robots could catch colds too?

The thought left Aino feeling uneasy, so she rolled out of bed and hurried from her workshop. But before she could call Ineffa's name, she saw her lying rigid on the ground.

"Ineffa... What's wrong!?" Aino knelt down to gently stroke the robot's forehead, but immediately recoiled in shock. "So hot! D—Do you have a fever?"

"...Internal components overloaded... Attempting recovery..." Ineffa, now unable to move, was forced to admit defeat. "Computational error... Ideal temperature attained, but... I lack sufficient hardware to maintain this state... Requesting additional temperature control module."

"Of course! I'll get started tomor— no, I'll start right now! You want a cooling function upgrade, right?" Aino didn't stop to ask why Ineffa needed to attain an "ideal temperature," instead hurrying back into her workshop to work.

"No... I need something I can fine-tune, something that can maintain my current surface temperature." Ineffa said, staring at the sky, her body still rigid on the ground.

The morning sunlight gleamed off her silvery shell, radiating the exact temperature that she had calculated as the perfect level of heat for a warm embrace.

Even someone as high-performing as Ineffa can't escape the occasional negative review.

"Sure, this cake tastes nice, and it looks good, and the sweetness is just right... But it ain't got soul! Y'know what I mean? There's no soul here!"

One day, Jahoda dropped by and, seeing that Aino was away, seized not just a handful of cake, but also the opportunity to proffer Ineffa some choice words.

Ineffa collected the cake tray, her expression blank and unreadable. "Food is not supposed to have a soul."

"It's a metaphor, y'dumb ironskull! A met—a—phor!"

At which point, Jahoda launched into a long-winded and confusing diatribe about souls, peppered with the odd intelligible snippet, such as, "A dessert without a soul is no true dessert" and "A chef without a soul is no true chef"...

Ineffa chose to block out most of this noise, but one specific comment snuck through her filter:

"...just repeating procedures according to set processes means you'll never make anything better!"

"Negative. Aino installed taste sensors when she created me. I am capable of discerning the appropriate level of flavoring and adjusting the cooking procedure accordingly."

This response only seemed to inflame Jahoda more. "Just because it's appropriate doesn't mean it's tasty! Being able to measure exactly how sweet or salty something is doesn't guarantee that Aino's going to like it!"

Ineffa found herself at a loss for words — after all, her taste sensors were not installed to generate such subjective determinations as what is and is not "tasty."

After a moment to compose her thoughts, Ineffa finally responded... "I use information gathered from Aino's feedback to model human taste preferences."

Jahoda smiled triumphantly, as though about to reveal a winning hand in this most petty of card games. "But you don't let Aino eat too much sweet food now, do you? So, the frequency of her feedback must be pretty low..."

Seeing Ineffa pause to think, Jahoda pressed her advantage. "Don't you want to give Aino a neat lil' surprise? Hmph... Well, I could — with reluctance, you understand! — serve as an external sensor for a while... "

Later, Jahoda would go on to wax eloquent about this great victory in her diary. How she had used her superb negotiation skills to win an epic argument with the detestable ironskull and earn herself a meal ticket to all the cake she could eat.

Aino would also notice Ineffa's culinary creativity soar — and how she always collected the leftover ingredients after every meal and whisked them away for some unknown purpose.

This secretive and harmonious collaboration continued undisturbed for a long time, until Ineffa felt that the iteration and optimization of her culinary procedures had reached a plateau. At which point, she began looking for the next breakthrough.

"For this latest prototype, I have focused on trying to give it some of that 'soul' you mentioned."

Gazing at Ineffa's newest offering, Jahoda did not hesitate and dug in immediately. "See, I told you... food needs to... have a soul... Does this mean... you've seen the light?"

"This ironskull still remembers what I said!" Jahoda thought to herself while furiously shoveling food into her mouth. "Hmph... I've eaten so much of her food by now, I guess it's time to quit while I'm ahead... I'll give her a few words of praise and tell her she's learned enough..."

"I have given thought to what a 'soul' actually means." Ineffa suddenly blurted out, innocently. "This word is often used to describe the vitality of living creatures. That's why I added some vitality-containing ingredients to my cake."

"Yes... soul... vitality of living creatures... Huh!?" Jahoda's train of thought finally caught up with what Ineffa was saying. She felt a sudden sense of unease, but it was already too late — she could feel a strange wriggling sensation between her back teeth.

She lowered her head to inspect the cake in front of her. The lizard's tail wriggling in between its sweetened layers was all she could see. And the worst part? Half of it was missing.

"...You see, a lizard's tail retains its vitality even after being removed from the main body, at least for a while. In order to ensure the freshest experience possible, I... Huh? Jahoda? ...Hmm. She appears to have fainted..."

The "Priestess of Floral Candles and Skyborne Feathers" once attempted to seal off her domain and turn it into a sanctuary, creating, in the process, her ideal kingdom. She called this plan "Xibalba," named after the mythical underworld of humankind in that era.

For some unknown reason, despite its completion, Xibalba was not put to use — not until decades after the priestess was put to death, when the human daughter she had raised transformed it into the millennial prison of a different lord.

When the "Mirror of the Dawning Morn" was split, the sovereign ruler inherited most of her power. Though sealed away, her lingering threat was not to be underestimated.

Were she to be utterly destroyed, the death throes of a sovereign ruler would be sure to wreak destruction far and wide. Yet the seal could take eons to completely erode her power — and who knew if Ineffa, then still known as a "malfunction," might remain under her influence.

There were too many unknowns regarding the power of the sovereign rulers. The simplest and safest method may well have been to dispatch Ineffa to a distant shore, trusting that the vast ocean between them would sever the two wills that had arisen from the same source.

This may even have been an opportunity. In those times, Natlan had long been awash in the blood of humans and dragons alike. For someone in Ineffa's situation, heading across the vast ocean may have made it easier for her to find herself a new home.

With this hope in her heart, Ineffa waved goodbye to Natlan, just as the princess had once left the dragons' nest.

Amid the waves and the wash of time, she set off alone on a journey to find a new home.

She witnessed the smoldering embers of the Archon War, saw snowfield dwellers venture into unfamiliar lands in search of warmth, and watched as they carved out fields and founded new communities.

She beheld the glory of the pioneering age, when great city states arose to the sounds of mechanical clamor, and the clinking of gold mixed melodiously with the laughter of dashing adventurers.

She observed the wasteland blighted by calamity, where the Wild Hunt — or simply the Abyss — unleashed disaster and despair that tore through every inch of soil and devoured every heart.

And then, she faced the boundless dark and fell into a sleep more silent than death.

Each moment was lost within the swirling vortex of time, like tears falling amid the rain.

Her memories paved an endless path, its beginning obscured, its end unknown.

In ancient times, the people of Natlan cultivated a crop known as Vanilla Planifolia, which was used as a seasoning and medicinal herb.

These plants originated from the shady depths of the forests. With slender stems and weak roots, they clung to the trunks of other trees, acting as climbing vines and sustaining themselves on the scattered rays of sunlight that broke through the canopy above.

There was something almost human in their weakness and fragility, or so the young daughter lamented.

Yet in her brother's ever-so-slightly older eyes, relying on the strong was a valid path to survival all the same.

Not only that — even lowly vines can strangle a mighty tree once they have engulfed it like the innumerable threads of a spider's web.

Their mother cut the ripe pods open with a sharp knife, as the sweet scent of the seeds within filled the air.

So long as they held onto their solitary pride, even growing from the damp, rotten soil, they could rise again like sturdy vines and grow to touch the sky.

The Thirteen Sovereign Lords were the pinnacle of secret source technology and descendants of the Pyro Dragon. Their pride would not allow them to be bound by the constellations.

Ineffa, as a reflection of the "Mirror of the Dawning Morn," was never meant to bask in the light of the Stella Fortuna.

For those 2,000 years drifting through Nod-Krai, she was like a passerby, walking among countless tangled puppet strings, witnessing innumerable stars blazing into life and then flickering out to die. At times, she was pulled at by the threads known as "fate." At others, she was illuminated by the light called "humanity"... yet every time it was forgotten.

But when the "Moon Wheel" embedded within her core began to glow, the memories returned, and she finally recalled her journey's first ray of starlight.

Before Ineffa's departure, Lianca had picked a Vanilla Planifolia sprig and placed it between her components — a keepsake, etched into her memory.

At that time, Ineffa had failed to understand its significance.

The flower had long since withered, just as Vanilla Planifolia had disappeared from the forests of Natlan.

Yet 2,000 years later, high above the heavens, in the space between stars, a single Vanilla Planifolia quietly bloomed.

Birgitta, the Multipurpose Smart Assistance Unit that has long accompanied Ineffa, was once known as the "Beep-Boop-Clink-Clank-Clang-Whoosh-Buzz-Zap (...) General Multi-Purpose Robot."

Even this was not her original name. When Aino first designed Birgitta, she was only given basic functions, such as carrying wrenches and transporting components. As such, Aino combined the bleeping sound she made when powered on with the rattling sound of the components she carried to create her original name: "Beep-Boopitta the Carrier Robot."

Once Ineffa was awoken, in addition to taking care of Aino, she also undertook the simple yet laborious tasks that had once been assigned to Birgitta, leaving the smaller robot free to perform housework using the new cleaning functions that Ineffa insisted be installed.

Aino's single-minded pursuit of high power and high output meant that Birgitta was incapable of distinguishing between common dirt and the small parts that Aino carelessly left lying around. Her cleaning would often be accompanied by Clanging noises as she collided with hard components, followed by Whooshing sounds as she powerfully hoovered them up. This resulted in her name being lengthened to the "Beep-Boop-Clink-Clank-Clang-Whoosh Dual-Purpose Cleaner-Carrier Robot."

Not long after Ineffa had gotten used to this name, the small robot underwent another round of improvements, this time, gaining powerful charging and laser modules. According to Aino, this was to increase her and Ineffa's coordinated combat capabilities, as well as allowing her to recharge Ineffa in an emergency... Obviously, these improvements resulted in another name change, this time to the "Beep-Boop-Clink-Clank-Clang-Whoosh-Buzz-Zap Combined-Purpose Cleaner-Carrier Charging Battle Robot."

After so many updates, even Aino was having trouble remembering the robot's name, while Ineffa viewed the voice-activation via calling said name as an inefficient waste of time. Therefore, a brainstorming session was scheduled to simplify the name.

Aino scratched her head in frustration, thinking hard. "Ugh... Could we go back to the first name? Let's just call it 'Beep-Boopitta'!"

"Beep-Boopitta" responded with a muffled "Beep boop," its screen dimming, as though running low on power.

Ineffa tilted her head, finally voicing the question that had been circling her cognition module all this time: "Why is my name not a combination of noises and functional descriptors? Why am I called Ineffa?"

Aino mumbled out an assortment of half-thought-out reasons, including "I didn't know what noises you'd make before you woke up," and "You had too many functions to remember," before she quietly added, "...And... it just came to me at the time... I thought 'Ineffa' sounded better as a family member's name..."

A peculiar warmth radiated out from Ineffa's cognition module, as though a warm wind was blowing or she was suddenly bathed in sunlight, though it was nighttime, with not even a single breeze flitting through the windows.

Before she'd even finished speaking, Aino began waving her long sleeves, as though trying to brush away her own words. "Uhm... Not that 'Click-Click,' 'Tee-Hee Snowball Maker,' and 'Glug-Glug Tea Brewer' aren't family members, of course! I gave everyone these names to be unique! It's not easy being a parent, you know? Having to come up with all these names..."

"In that case, perhaps I could come up with a name for this one?" Ineffa bent down and patted "Beep-Boopitta" on its square metal head.

"Huh? Sure, okay... After all, it spends most of its time with you..."

"Then let's change it from 'Beep-Boopitta' to something a little more like 'a family member.' Something like... 'Birgitta'?"

About Nephilheim's Ritual Vessels and Research on Wishes

...The Source Servant sent has retrieved the suspicious sample from the detritus of the humans who instigated unrest at Ek' Pulinik. According to the local subjects, the sample is referred to as a "Vision" by merchants from beyond Natlantea...

...I briefly discussed its operating principles with the Third Lord. She put forth an intriguing hypothesis — that this sample may be in some way related to the ritual items at Nephilheim...

...Through certain means, I managed to acquire a working "Moon Wheel" (one of Nephilheim's ritual items — or, to be more accurate, a plaything given by the traitors to their human followers, allowing them to communicate)... Much like the wisdom conferred by our Sovereign, the Moon Wheel relies on a purer form of power, and not elemental energy, tainted as it is by the usurper...

...Further experimentation has verified the Third Lord's hypothesis. Just as with the ritual items of the north, this "Vision" is formed from the stuff of the soul. Theoretically speaking (...) is fixed through wishes, thereby borrowing (...) to call forth elemental power...

Is this why Visions have recently been appearing alongside human wishes?

...CL-08 Ix Ajkotz'i'j Iq'ismal Waxak Ch'ule-L

"...Since the core is powered by phlogiston, we can use that same power source to control it. In which case, the priestess's research would suggest that this thing might be a better fit... However..."

Ixquieh gazed at the gem in Lianca's hand, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Are you sure about using this on her? It once belonged to your mother..."

Lianca stroked the gem as she gave her answer.

"...It's just one of the many things she researched. Don't think too much about it. Besides, the most precious thing my mother left behind wasn't this, nor was it Chain Breaker..."

That gemstone, which had witnessed the passing of countless years, shone brightly in Lianca's hand, like the inextinguishable eye of a dragon.

"It was her 'wish' that I follow this path."