Shorekeeper

[Extracted Archive Record - A.A1001]
Subject: Second Instance
Recorder: ▇▇▇▇
Record Segment: A.A-000

The Second Instance (also known as the Shorekeeper) is composed entirely of high-purity Remnant Energy crystals. Its successful activation confirms the viability of ▇▇▇▇'s theory, which proposes the following:
a. By modeling the "Blazar" module anchor, Remnant Energy can be attracted and condensed, resulting in the materialization of energy.
b. Pre-loading informational data into the energy entity grants it cognitive abilities.

Unlike conventional resonance logic, the Second Instance (the Shorekeeper) can directly utilize Remnant Energy. When activated, the crystal-like marks on her chest emit a faint blue glow. Her frequency aligns with pure Remnant Energy but is affected by the selected module settings. Her ability cycle resembles stellar evolution. This is visually represented through phenomena such as butterfly-like nebula and domains that resemble star charts.

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇
The subsequent status of the Second Instance will continue to be monitored by ▇▇.

[Extracted Archive Record - A.A1001]
Subject: Second Instance
Recorder: ▇▇▇▇
Record Segment: A.A-311

The ▇▇▇ test results for the Shorekeeper are generally within controllable parameters. However, the Remnant Energy within her has shown signs of dissipation multiple times, leading to excessive energy loss and crystal fragmentation. This may be attributed to the processing of Lament data via massive computation. Notably, the Shorekeeper has detected these issues and has attempted to mitigate the damage by replacing her damaged parts with new energy crystals. The string-like wave marks on her shoulders and calves are likely scars from this healing process.

The possibility of this issue recurring cannot be ruled out, which may require increased monitoring and more frequent replacement of the energy crystals.
If the ▇▇▇ test results exceed controllable limits, alternative contingency plans may need to be implemented.

After the drumbeat, we call the heart dancing in the darkness the moon. This moon is largely formed by you.

Some lives are born by chance. Others are created with intent.

As the world edged toward its frozen end, those destined to face the final moment placed their hopes in a certain individual. They blessed him, wishing he would lead them to a brighter tomorrow. Yet this lonely odyssey required a timeless vessel to complete the Reverberations, and the best they could offer was an enduring tool. Thus, the Shorekeeper was born—a deliberate creation, a light blue crystal cocoon of Remnant Energy gathered from the Anchor.

The Shorekeeper knew what needed to be done long before she understood how. But a tool needs a guide. She waited aimlessly in the void until, as the sea surged to its edge, she sensed a heartbeat drawing near in the briny sea breeze.

In the stillness of the night, the Astral Modulator surveyed the land as the Lament's roars faded into the distance, leaving only his steady heartbeat.

"Perhaps the underground needs a sky as brilliant as the one above..." the Modulator mused, planning the future. As he reached out to activate the Tethys System, an enigmatic allure from a blue crystal beckoned him closer. The meeting of their frequencies triggered a resonance that shattered the crystal, releasing a surge of energy that burst forth like a nebula or a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

The energy swirled and coalesced, taking the form of a young woman, who greeted the one who had awakened her.

"I am the Shorekeeper, a tool created for you."

"I will fulfill your needs and carry out your commands. I will assist you and Tethys in analyzing the origin of the Lament."

Her voice, steady and devoid of emotion, awaited a command that did not come.

"Shorekeeper… to protect secrets and guard the shores. It's straightforward, but it hardly sounds like a name."

"A tool does not require a name—it is merely a title and will not affect my ability to perform."

They stood in silence, the Astral Modulator's golden eyes reflecting an emotion the Shorekeeper could not yet comprehend.

Finally, the Astral Modulator sighed softly.

"Well, we will have plenty of time to talk about that."

The dreamer of the day glimpsed the sun in the night.

Before being confined underground as the core of Tethys, the Shorekeeper once traveled beyond the Black Shores.

At that time, civilization was steadily advancing. The Astral Modulator had established an organization called the Black Shores, recruiting new members selected by Tethys. Meanwhile, the Shorekeeper focused on recreating and analyzing the Reverberations they brought back, completing her calculations.

Like an omniscient observer, the Shorekeeper could trace data to monitor any human's behavior at any time in her recreated Sonoros. She attempted to categorize and interpret humans like any other phenomenon, but quickly found herself perplexed by them.

Why do they cry in both joy and sorrow? Why do their actions so often contradict their desires? Why pursue something they know they'll regret, or persist in the impossible? How can they so easily harm others, yet sacrifice themselves without hesitation? Every time the Shorekeeper thought she was closer to understanding, an unexpected event would overturn her conclusions. Though confused, she wondered if this confusion even mattered—after all, it didn't stop her from completing her tasks. But then, the Astral Modulator gave her a mission: signs of an impending Lament had appeared, which required field research to gather data for analysis. They would go together and... see what more could be done.

The Shorekeeper followed the Modulator through the farmland of that region. It was harvest season—the soil underfoot was soft yet firm, the hanging heads of grain full and ripe, and the wind carried the sweet scent of rice. She understood these things, yet seeing them firsthand felt different. Lost in these unfamiliar sensations, the Shorekeeper was unaware that her expression mirrored the curiosity and wonder of a child stepping out of their home for the first time. The Modulator chatted warmly with the locals, their conversations filled with dialects and the hum of everyday life. A kind old woman offered them homemade food. Her skin was rough, while the baby she held had warm, sweaty fingers.

But just as Tethys predicted, the omens soon became reality, shattering the fleeting peace.

The once-friendly people fell into despair—fighting over resources, crying out in anguish, their faces twisted with desperation and fear. For the first time, the Shorekeeper witnessed the Lament herself, not through Sonoros, but in its raw, overwhelming reality.

What surprised her even more was the Modulator. He led all the Resonators in resisting the Tacet Discords, encouraging everyone to hold on until reinforcements arrived. He was trying to alter a predetermined future, but why go to such lengths for a group of strangers? The Shorekeeper recalled the Tethys System's instructions:

"A future that has been altered is destined to be altered. Attempting to change predetermined outcomes should be avoided."

"I can't just stand by and do nothing. If this is the cost of reaching tomorrow, I question whether such a tomorrow is worth it." The golden-eyed Modulator's voice was firm.

"…Unable to process. But I will prioritize your needs," the Shorekeeper responded, as she expanded the Stellarealm to heal and protect.

Night fell, and reinforcements finally arrived. Just as they prepared to leave, a child who had lost his parents blocked their path.

"W-wait, where are you going? I want to go with you… to fight those monsters!"

Seeing the child's bright eyes, the Modulator crouched down and pointed to the Blake Bloom on his attire.

"What we're about to do is too dangerous for you. But if you still want to join us when you grow up, look for someone wearing this flower."

As the ship sailed away, the Shorekeeper watched the child waving from the dock. Humans still perplexed her, but this time, she tried to express her confusion to the one beside her.

"Tethys didn't predict this. That child isn't a candidate we need."

"Not everything requires Tethys's command. Humans aren't bound by such restrictions. He may not be needed now, but in time… he'll find his own path."

"The freedom to choose is far more important than any answer. That's something I want to show you."

"I want you to see and experience these things for yourself. We aren't data or abstract concepts stored in records—you can think of us as companions."

"Companions…" The Shorekeeper repeated the word, pondering its meaning. What the Modulator had said wasn't an order, nor was it an answer. Yet from that moment on, a subtle, hidden anticipation began to stir within her.

"Humans are truly complex beings… I don't yet understand them, but I hope, one day, I will."

Mourn not at my resting place; I am neither there nor gone.

When the robots mentioned the name "Delone," the Shorekeeper immediately recalled all that was tied to it. This wasn't just due to her natural ability to store and record information, but because Delone was special—she was one of the few who sought out the Black Shores herself.

The first time the Shorekeeper met her, Delone was a spirited girl, brimming with enthusiasm. She had complained about how hard it was to find the Black Shores, then raised her eyebrows with a hint of pride. "I knew it! Others must be gathering to fight against the Laments and prevent further anomalies!"

At that time, the Astral Modulator, who once held the highest authority in the Black Shores, had not yet been absent for long, and the Shorekeeper was still able to visit the surface. When the eager girl had grabbed her hand, her determination to join the Black Shores palpable, the Shorekeeper had been unsure how to respond. She felt the girl's warm hand—hot, just like the fire in her eyes.

The Shorekeeper granted Delone eligibility to sit for the entrance exam, despite it deviating from Tethys's recruitment protocols. The Shorekeeper remembered what the Modulator had once said to her, "Humans aren't bound by such restrictions… We aren't data or abstract concepts stored in records." The Shorekeeper believed the Modulator would probably have acted similarly, just to preserve the girl's burning enthusiasm. In the end, Delone passed the exam and became an official member of the Black Shores.

The Shorekeeper never imagined that they would meet again under such tragic circumstances.

More than a decade had passed, and the once fiery girl had matured into a composed woman. But now, she was reaching out to the Shorekeeper with a trembling hand, life sweeping away from a grievous wound. The Shorekeeper saw it clearly. Delone's life was fading away, and there was only one possible outcome.

"I did it," Delone said with a weak smile. "I took down eight Tacet Discords in one go during the Lament. But Twala... they weren't so lucky. I was the only one left to bring the data back."

The time for farewell was drawing near. The other members, unaware of the Shorekeeper's true identity, assumed she was a close friend of Delone and gave them space for a final moment together.

"So much time has passed... I'm... I'm so old now... but you're just the same as before."

"Did I do well? I didn't disappoint you, did I?" Delone's voice wavered with weakness, but her eyes still shone as brightly as they did when they first met. What would the Modulator have done? The Shorekeeper didn't know—there was no clear answer, no example to follow. But looking into those eyes, she felt something heavy in her chest, an indescribable emotion surging within her. It compelled her to break protocol once again, just as she had done all those years ago.

"You've done well. Very well."

The Shorekeeper answered, and this time, she held Delone's hand. Somehow, she knew this gesture might bring comfort to her, just as it had so many years ago.

"Thank you... Thank you, Shorekeeper," Delone whispered, deep relief in her voice. Then, she murmured, "The stars... they're so bright. Will I become one of them... after this? There's so much I won't be able to see, but you will... they will..."

A tear fell from her eye, taking with it her last warmth.

Just as Delone had said, the Shorekeeper transformed the frequencies of the departed into a "star," leaving them within the constellations of data. She couldn't remember when she had started doing this. Time had withered the Blake Blooms and eroded the Black Shores—it had also taken the lives of those who deserved to be remembered. The ever-shining stars in the sky had become the only resting place for these fallen souls.

Under the starlit sky, the Shorekeeper stood on the shores, bathed in their glow, and gazed across the sea. Had the Modulator been right to entrust her with such authority? Had she done enough to look after the Black Shores as instructed? The answers to these questions lay with the one who had left... All that remained for her was the seemingly endless wait. And so, she waited, for time was the one thing she had in abundance.

I offer you the kernel of myself that I have carefully preserved—a core untouched by words, untraded in dreams, and beyond the reach of time, joy, and adversity.

Disaster relief alone was not enough to save those who suffered. Rather than passively collecting data after each Lament, the Modulator sought to prevent its very occurrence. He led the Shorekeeper and the other members in issuing warnings and taking preventive measures, despite meeting little success.

To break free from the Möbius loop and create a new reality, the Modulator proposed a daring plan.

The time for farewell drew near.

The Modulator decided to erase all memories and travel beyond the Black Shores in search of a viable solution. Those who had walked in the Modulator's footsteps naturally chose to follow him again.

Only the Shorekeeper remained.

It was necessary because some things could only be done by the one who remained. The future pursued by the Black Shores opposed Tethys's logic of using the Lament as a tool against itself, and a core was needed to assist with translation and computation. The Shorekeeper, who had accepted the Modulator's transferred authority, was the most suitable for this role.

Everyone made their choice, and so did the Shorekeeper. As a being of energy, she decided to serve as the vessel through which all Reverberation data flowed, passing through her core into Tethys. With each analysis, each recreation, and each trace, she was no longer a bystander but someone experiencing the same disasters as those recorded in the data.

Grief. Resistance. Exhaustion. Decay.

Birds died in panic, their hollow eyes fixed on the earth.

Suffering. Chaos. Loss. Extinction.

Scattered flowers were crushed to dust. Stiffened hands remained frozen in desperate grasping.

Fear. Loathing. Anger. Resentment.

Cracks spidered through her body, the sound of shattering echoing continuously within.

Agony? Agony... Agony, agony!

All that had happened, was happening, and could happen, converged within her. Her light dimmed, her form losing its completeness. She could feel her body fracturing, falling apart piece by piece.

"It doesn't matter. A tool breaks, that's normal. The only distinction is whether it can still be used or not. I am just a collection of energy—once spent, another will take my place. There can always be another Shorekeeper."

It doesn't matter.

"Just like those predetermined choices, you too are part of the Möbius loop. The Modulator may not be aware, but you have always known, haven't you? This is the end they set for you when they gave you this mission."

But... why this yearning?

Is this... yearning?

"I noticed your change after your first field mission."

"You no longer accepted everything Tethys told you. You felt confused and learned to voice that confusion."

"I rarely gave you direct answers to your questions. As I said, I wanted you to find your own answers. But this question is different. Before we... part ways, I want to share my thoughts with you."

"What does this shore mean? As the leader, I should probably say something inspiring now. But what I truly want is for this shore to be a home for every member of the Black Shores."

"This is where it all begins, and we are each other's companions. Now and always."

So... how could it not matter?

The one you awakened under the stars was me.

The one who took this form by your power was me.

The one who walked with you through the countryside was me.

The one you told to seek their own answers was me.

The one who keeps secrets, guards the shore, sustains this coast, and waits for your return is me.

Not any other entity of energy, not any other being, but me.

The binding loop halted. She broke free from the sea of data that threatened to drown everything, gasping for breath. She didn't want to lose those things, didn't want to stay here, didn't want to disappear like this, because—because—

I am the Shorekeeper.

I am the Shorekeeper who was born because of you.

I am the Shorekeeper you called a companion.

I am the Shorekeeper who has been shaped by all these experiences, memories, and emotions.

I am... the one and only Shorekeeper because of you.

You are like the night, with its silence and stars.

The long wait finally ended with the Modulator's return. As promised, he found his way back to the Black Shores. Though he had lost his memories, his choices remained unchanged—together, they corrected Tethys's errors and restored peace to the souls trapped within the Necrostar.

Yet, amidst the celebration, the Shorekeeper felt something more than just pure joy—there was an undercurrent of uncertainty. The paths that had been laid out by Tethys, by the Modulator, and even by herself, had reached their end. Where should she go next? As the other members reveled in their success, she quietly withdrew to the familiar shore.

The Shorekeeper wandered along the shoreline as she did so often before. This habit had formed while she waited for the Modulator's return. Sleep held little meaning for her. Instead, she preferred to stay awake, observing the shore and remembering all that time had etched into it. After all, someone needed to keep the memories alive for when the Modulator returned.

Tonight's walk felt much like all the others. Time in the underground seemed frozen, and the familiar stars above unchanged. As the path before her stretched on and the waves lapped gently at her feet, she reached toward the unseen horizon. Though she felt as if she were once again in a state of waiting, unsure of what to do next, she knew deep down that something had shifted.

The freedom to choose was finally and truly hers. She belonged in this world and shared it with that one person.

"Fill it with all that you desire."
"Fill it."
"Fill it."
"Fill it."

The stars she once guided seemed to whisper to her, their silent glow urging her to step forward into the new beginning that awaited her.

Footsteps drew near, and the one who had walked with her from the very beginning appeared, ever attuned to her slightest emotions. This time, it was she who decided to break the silence first.

"My name... You once said we would have plenty of time to discuss it."

"So, have you decided?"

"Shorekeeper, that's my name. Not because I guard secrets or the shore itself, but because I'm the one who watches over the roving star."

She paused and smiled gently.

"It represents all of me, past to present. In the future... I hope that in our story, I can be the shore where you find rest."

"And..." she continued, with a rare hint of playfulness, "those melodies we played together—I've composed a piece from them."

"I've given it a name... The next time I play it for you, you'll know."