"I don't understand," I said slowly. "If the System was that powerful, then why couldn't you just change the fate of your world?"
At my question, the creature became quiet for the first time.
"Because we already tried," they said at last.
"We altered countless outcomes. Changed probabilities. Delayed extinction again and again."
The holographic projections around us shifted rapidly, showing fragments of worlds I had never seen before.
Some were lush and overflowing with life.
Others were nothing but ruins.
"We consumed the energy of dying planets. Exchanged entire worlds to sustain our own. Every time our future approached collapse, the System allowed us to push it further away."
Their ripple darkened slightly.
"At first, the System was merely a tool," they continued. "Something created to support civilization and compensate for what we lacked. But after discovering the future through you... I now understand that it eventually became the very foundation of our existence."
The floating streams of data around them distorted violently, countless scenes appearing and disappearing all at once.
"We reshaped climates. Altered biology. Controlled lifespans. Created dimensions capable of harvesting energy from other planets within our galaxy."
Their voice remained calm, but there was something unsettling about the way they spoke, as if they were only now realizing the consequences of it all.
"When our planet began dying, we did not accept it. We relied on the System to delay the inevitable over and over again."
Fragments of ruined planets flickered through the projections.
"We exchanged the energy of other worlds to sustain our own civilization. We altered countless futures, forcing extinction further away each time."
"...And every miracle required energy," I murmured quietly.
"Correct."
Their gaze shifted toward me.
"The System cannot create something from nothing. Every alteration to reality requires an equivalent cost. But after seeing your future, I now understand something our people never realized."
"The more we relied on the System to escape our fate, the closer we moved toward it."
A long silence followed.
"Our species became too dependent on rewriting reality itself. We stopped adapting naturally because we believed the System would always solve everything for us. And in the end... that dependence became the true cause of our destruction."
There was a very long silence stretching between us before they continued talking.
"Do you believe in fate, child?"
The sudden question caught me off guard.
"...No," I answered honestly. "Although there is a constellation that controls fate, isn't there?"
The creature let out an amused chuckle.
"I suppose there is," they replied. "But that is not what I mean."
They continued walking slowly as countless streams of data drifted around us like stars.
"The authority of constellations originates from the System itself. They are merely beings granted power to interfere with probability and causality."
Their ripple shifted softly.
"But no being in this universe is naturally capable of seeing fate in its entirety."
I frowned slightly.
"Then I definitely don't believe in it."
At my answer, the creature became strangely quiet before speaking again.
"I do."
"...Why?"
For a moment, they looked toward the endless horizon of iridescent sand stretching around us.
"Hm. Tell me, child... what happens to stars eventually?"
"They die."
"And planets?"
"They die too."
"What about humans?"
"...We die."
Their ripple brightened faintly, almost as if pleased by my answer.
"Everything reaches an end eventually. Stars collapse. Civilizations disappear. Entire species vanish no matter how powerful they once believed themselves to be."
Their voice remained calm.
"Our kind extended our existence far beyond what should have been possible. We altered reality itself to escape extinction."
The floating data around them flickered with fragments of ruined worlds.
"And yet... in the future you showed me, we still perish."
"If that inevitable end is not fate, then what would you call it?"
I lowered my gaze slightly.
"You're saying everything is destined to die."
"No," they corrected gently. "I am saying that everything in existence carries a fate of its own."
The conversation was starting to spiral far beyond what I originally came here for. Wasn't this supposed to be a memory about the origin of Aberrants? So why did it suddenly feel like I was learning the truth behind the entire universe instead?
"The world you see before you is the System itself," they said calmly.
Their hand swept across the air.
"This is not water. Not sand either. Everything here is composed of System particles."
The glowing surface beneath my feet rippled softly at their touch.
"The reason I can read your thoughts is simple. The System moves around all living beings constantly, recording information every moment. To me, your mind is no different from an open book."
"...Then stop reading my mind," I muttered immediately, feeling strangely violated.
The creature let out an amused sound.
"You came here seeking answers about Aberrants," they continued, ignoring my complaint entirely. "But you already possess the answer."
"We, the Aquacorls and Pyrekins, are the Aberrants you seek."
My thoughts tangled instantly.
That didn't make sense.
They looked like ordinary intelligent lifeforms to me. Advanced, sure, but still just aliens trying to survive their own dying world.
"...But you use the System too," I pointed out. "Then how are you Aberrants? And why am I seeing you specifically?"
The creature smiled faintly.
"You heard our discussion earlier, did you not? The second version of the System required synchronization with a living entity in order to function completely."
I nodded slowly.
"But no one wished to become its vessel," they continued. "To synchronize with the System meant existing eternally within a conscious state. No death. No true rest. Only endless awareness."
"Then why would anyone agree to that?"
"I volunteered."
The answer came so casually that my brain froze for a second. I let out an awkward cough.
"The reason you are witnessing these memories is because you are experiencing mine."
A strange chill crawled down my spine.
"...Wait."
I stared at them.
"You don't mean—"
"I integrated with the System."
My mind blanked.
"What?!"
I pointed at them in disbelief.
"You're telling me you're the thing that keeps sending me those weird notifications and emoticons?!"
"Ah... yes. Although the emoticons were a calculated decision."
"...Calculated?"
"There were significantly fewer casualties when I communicated in a casual format," they explained calmly. "Direct conversations between us would have destroyed most undeveloped species instantly."
What kind of insane explanation was that?!
"And besides," they added, their ripple brightening slightly, "I never expected to encounter a being like you."
I frowned.
"...What does that mean?"
"A human capable of naturally healing others without external modification. A species still considered undeveloped, yet capable of producing an existence that even the System requires a lot of energy to do."
Their gaze locked onto me.
"A beautiful anomaly."
"What's so unique about healing? There are other healers out there."
"Yes," they replied calmly. "But you are different."
Their gaze lingered on me for a moment.
"You do not require the influence of the System to heal others naturally nor do you need scientific methods."
I let out a long sigh.
"...Can you explain things in a way a normal person can actually understand?"
The creature let out an amused sound before continuing.
"Very well. My ancestors traveled across nearly every corner of the universe in search of new civilizations, resources, and lifeforms. We encountered countless species capable of regeneration and self-repair."
The streams of data around us shifted, showing massive creatures reforming torn flesh and broken limbs.
"But never once did we discover a species capable of naturally healing others without the use of tools, or other forms of external items."
"And yet your kind possesses such an ability innately through your bloodline."
I froze slightly.
"My bloodline?"
"Correct."
Images flickered around us. My mother, and other people who seemed to look like me.
"Your healing abilities are not normal, even among your own species," they explained. "The ability to restore another living being without consuming equivalent biological matter should not exist naturally."
Their gaze settled on me again.
"Even I can be healed by your power."
Is that even something to be proud of...? Healing is just healing. Obviously I can heal others.
"And that," they said softly, "is precisely why your world was destroyed."
My expression stiffened instantly. "What... do you mean?"
"As you know, my kind are curious creatures. Curiosity is what allowed us to evolve, but it is also what doomed us."
The projections around us shifted again, showing enormous fleets crossing galaxies.
"When they discovered your existence, they became fascinated by your abilities. A healing power capable of restoring organic life, consciousness... even planetary deterioration."
"To beings from a dying civilization, you became something far too valuable to ignore."
Cold chills ran down my spine.
"They invaded your world to capture you," they said plainly. "But something unexpected occurred."
The streams of data surrounding us suddenly distorted violently.
"The System changed. The second version synchronized with my consciousness duplicated itself and created a third version."
Their voice carried faint surprise even now, as if they still could not fully comprehend it.