“Eek! Mr. Svarog, is the roof about to come crashing down?”
Clara shrank back, clutching Svarog’s coat with a timid voice.
Svarog looked up to the top level, where the greenhouse equipment of Belobog was veiled by a mist of steam. He placed his broad mechanical hand gently on Clara’s head.
“According to analysis, the furnace core remains stable. The machine shaft and Geomarrow energy pipelines above are still functioning normally. Probability of autonomous collapse from the upper layers is below 1.15%, with external force impact estimated at over 77.85%. Remaining probabilities are accounted for by…”
“External force? If that’s the case, then Venti won’t be in danger, will she?”
Relaxing a little upon hearing that the sky wasn’t literally falling, Clara leaned out a bit, her face showing concern. “She said she’d be up in the upper levels for a while.”
“The bard’s emergency escape capabilities are excellent, and her perception is sharp. The base probability of encountering an accident is only 0.600%.”
Svarog’s analysis was precise.
Still, this left Clara with a hint of reluctance she couldn’t quite hide, as she let go and fidgeted slightly. Svarog noticed her reaction and, after a brief pause, added an explanation: “In other words—she will be safe. You don’t need to worry.”
Hearing this reassurance, Clara relaxed, a gentle smile spreading across her face.
“Hehe, Mr. Svarog, sometimes you say things that make people worry.”
“…I will log the conversation and compare it with the previous fifty dialogues. No recalibration of existing data is currently required.”
Svarog’s mechanical eyes glowed briefly as he tilted his head to ask,
“Clara. Do you wish to look for the bard?”
“Huh? Go find Venti? Well, I am a little worried she might run into trouble, but everyone in the settlement, and you, Mr. Svarog, also need me here.”
Clara hesitated.
“What if, while I’m gone, someone here goes hungry or falls ill…”
“The people here all have skills of their own, Clara.”
Svarog’s gaze seemed to follow the network of pathways around the base, envisioning the people camped there, his synthesized voice steady and deep.
“They can look after themselves and aren’t solely dependent on our help. And, supplies are adequate for a month, with proper rationing.”
“But…”
Though Clara was tempted, a lingering sense of responsibility held her back.
Even if she had the courage to venture alone to Rivet Town for supplies, she was still just a young girl who had never set foot outside the Underworld.
For Clara, the Overworld was more of a “wonderland” she’d only heard about in records or Svarog’s stories.
She couldn’t imagine how vast the sky could be, had never napped in the daylight, nor seen the scenery beyond the Underworld’s confines.
These were invisible chains, making it hard for her to decide on her own, so she looked to Svarog for help.
Quietly, she muttered, “Do you… want me to find Venti, Mr. Svarog?”
“I will not interfere with your choice. Thus, if I may express it in human terms—”
Svarog, usually so logical and analytical, speaking and acting by calculated results, now spoke as gently as a father might.
“To choose or not is your freedom.”
After that conversation with the bard, he had, in some way, grasped a paradoxical truth for machines.
Human actions are unpredictable; there is no one best answer. Every possibility generates new outcomes, gradually creating unalterable variables.
Even he could only select from calculated outcomes, pruning away certain anomalies, and repeating the process until he found a result that infinitely approached the correct answer.
But that didn’t mean he should translate those anomalies into “answers” for Clara. She should have her own decisions rather than simply living as his extension.
Clara was human, not a machine. She deserved the privilege of “acting on impulse” that was natural for her age.
Encouraging her independence and supporting her pursuit of her desires—this was what family did.
Svarog’s trust-filled words left Clara silent for a moment, but her amber eyes grew brighter with a spark that reminded him of the bard.
“I understand. Mr. Svarog, you mean that you want me to prioritize what I want, right?”
“Exactly.”
Svarog nodded, feeling something he could only describe as “gratification.”
This sentiment didn’t align with his original programming. He was an old relic of the former Geomarrow Expeditionary Corps, a remnant control unit from a past era.
Unlike most machines that simply obey commands, Svarog had complex reasoning capabilities, though strictly speaking, no “emotional intelligence.”
Yet now, he felt a strange warmth that elevated his core, like a surge of energy “filling up.”
He couldn’t compute the precise variable behind this change, but… he could assume, for now, that it was Clara—his family.
As Svarog pondered, Clara, having cleared her first mental hurdle, grew bolder.
“…Um, in that case, could I invite you to come with me?”
“—Request approved.”
Svarog’s response was as even as ever, while simultaneously uploading his schedule to the settlement’s network.
The Robot Settlement, a community of wanderers formed around the old elevator shaft, was once the Geomarrow Survey Base “Furnace Core.” While many of its devices had deteriorated over time, plenty remained functional.
Through years of repair and modification, the mechanical network’s automated units had grown to over a hundred, and most residents here had grown fond of these robots, learning some mechanics along the way.
Furthermore, the settlement had its own automated artillery defenses and fortified gates, making it nearly impossible to breach without proper access codes.
So, unless a massive creature commanded an entire swarm to invade while they were away, the settlement would hold.
The Fragmentum encroachment in the Underworld was still mostly contained within Rivet Town, without spreading outward.
Even if that changed, the bard would sense it—his wind was more than mere air; it had “spirit.”
Svarog didn’t know how the bard did it, but he trusted in his ability to protect the people here.
As for how the bard would return to the Underworld?
That question never factored into Svarog’s calculations.
The elevator shaft was the only route from the Overworld, given the upper cableway’s closure.
Yet, the bard never needed it—he came and went with the wind’s power, moving with “freedom.”
In other words, all potential barriers to Clara’s journey with Svarog were effectively cleared. All they needed to do now was take the elevator.
After all, apart from fulfilling Clara’s wish, Svarog was curious about that “big hole in the sky” that the automated network had mentioned.
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