The girl, my doppelganger from another reality, took a step forward, her confidence unnerving. "There are many universes, Mitsuo, countless timelines branching out from every choice, every possibility," she began, her voice resonating with an almost otherworldly knowledge. "And the universe where you reside, where this Mitsuo lives, is what we refer to as the Main Universe."
She paused, her eyes, identical to mine yet holding an ancient wisdom, flickered with a sudden, almost self-conscious amusement. "W-wait, why am I telling you all this?" She waved a dismissive hand, as if brushing away an unnecessary explanation. "Listen, everything you truly need to know is this: there was a traveler who came into your universe, and because of their presence, the events in your universe changed slightly."
My mind, still reeling from the revelation of parallel selves, could only manage a simple, bewildered question. "So?"
Her expression hardened, losing its playful edge. "Gotta reset this universe, simple." Reset? My universe? My life?
The Copy Robot, standing rigidly beside me, remained silent. I understood why. If he spoke, if he revealed his strategic mind, she'd immediately recognize him as an anomaly, a sign of the very "changed events" she sought to erase. It was up to me now. I had to figure out if this "reset" was good for us, for me.
"What would've happened if the events wouldn't have changed?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady, masking the frantic thoughts swirling in my head.
She shrugged, a gesture so perfectly mimicking my own that it was uncanny. "Well, for starters, Perman would've asked to stay on Earth for a while longer, a few months, maybe. Then, he would've eventually gone to Birdplanet, his mission complete." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And here you only have one month left, right? But that's not even the important thing."
My mind raced, trying to discern the true implications of her words. But that's not important, the important thing is whether the plan of using the perfect copy robot would've come into Perman's mind. This was the crux of it. I couldn't ask her directly about him; that would give him away.
So, I tried a different angle. "How would the situation be right now if the events hadn't changed?"
She tilted her head, considering. "Hmm. Well, first of all, this base wouldn't have been made," she gestured around the sprawling hideout, "and you, Perman, wouldn't have been... well, that smart." She smirked, a teasing glint returning to her eyes.
Aha! That was my answer. If events hadn't changed, the very idea of creating and utilizing the Copy Robot wouldn't have entered my mind. My transformation, my intelligence, my entire new reality, was a direct result of this "disturbance." The mistake of that traveler, whoever they were, had been incredibly beneficial for us.
"What will happen to this universe after resetting?" I asked, my voice now carefully neutral, pushing down the growing panic.
"Everything will reset," she replied, her tone chillingly devoid of emotion. "It would be as if these events – everything that's happened since the disturbance – never occurred. Everyone will forget their memories of that time."
If the universe is reset, the idea of the perfect Copy Robot won't come into my mind. Overall, I'll never be able to improve. The thought was a cold, hard knot in my stomach. All the training, all the progress, the hideout, the financial gains, even my unsettling encounters with Kirei – all of it would be erased. I would revert to the timid, unremarkable Mitsuo.
Therefore, it was clear. I had to stop it from resetting.
"So why haven't you done it by now?" I challenged, a flicker of defiance in my voice. If her mission was so crucial, why the delay? Why the explanation? "If you want to reset our universe, then what's the need of telling me about it?"
She chuckled, a soft, dry sound. "I just wanted to see what's happening here. Curiosity, I suppose. And besides," her eyes, identical to mine, held an unnerving coldness, "I know you may not want it to reset, but that's none of my concern." Her words hung in the air, a stark, undeniable threat.