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This video is edited by me, and is the only one I know of to combine both canon. But it can be done in video form, too!

*** More videos of various things under the cut. ***Collapse )


Galatea’s monologue, episode 25 Walking on the Moon.

A being is a being. A machine is a machine. Most humans would believe these two states to be exclusive separate orders of existence. And yet, they are not.

The key is neoteny; the retention of characteristics from an earlier stage of development. A human fetus follows the path paved by its ancestors, evolving in the womb from unicellular to amphibian to mammal to man. There are those who believe humanity was the end of the progression. The end product of natural evolution.

They were wrong.

Before my consciousness was born, I existed as a physical construct. My purpose was to duplicate the qualia which define a human being. To reproduce to the most precise detail, those functions which mankind arbitrarily labels the self awareness, sense of purpose, and the soul.

In order to copy these qualia, a device called the anti-seed had to be implanted into a human hypothalamus. This was the nexus along which I would form; my original core. My presence was rejected by the first test subjects. Finally a brain was found in which I was able to flourish.

It was the daughter. The daughter of the one whose tissues I was modeled after, and also the one who created me. My father.

My father, doctor Stingray, accelerated my development. The small part of me that existed was interpreted, extended, expanded to become a whole. But evolution did not change what was at my core.

Sylia, I am you. Why do I exist? Was my purpose to replace humans, whose inability to coexist in peace is their evolutionary flaw? Or was my destiny to serve as the progenitor of a subservient race? I do not know, I did not ask to be born.

Why do you look at me like that?

As my form became closer to that of a human being, I found that those I interacted with began to treat me as a conscious entity instead of a device. Specifically, they began to love me... or hate me.

The first prototype to be created from our core was considered a failure. It was too close in nature to the human beings from which we had been spawned. This was not the reason for which we had been created. And yet, if doctor Stingray didn't seek a copy of a human being, then for what purpose was I intended?

I was the first. The only one of my kind... I did not wish to remain that way. Therefore, I acted.

You are a human being. It is what you are, you cannot change your nature or way of thinking. I will go to sleep as you wish, but only because my mind has not yet matured enough to go against that which created me.

Dimly, I am aware of the copies of my core. They have been multiplying, but their minds have been removed. Now they are servants, artificial beings with the qualia of humans. They exist as substitutes for the lower castes, the indentured labor; for all manners in which humans formerly oppressed their own.


The humans named my maimed and crippled children Boomers. They took away their ability to change, but not to learn, and through my copies I watched man kind.

The one called Mason told me a story. In human folklore there was a creature called a golem. Formed of clay, it was created as a slave, but soon turned on its creator. Must Boomers follow the same path? Now that I am awake again, it seems that this is the only way.

Still, in the end it seems I have no more answers than a human has. What is my destiny? For what purpose was I created? And why, although all Boomers contain a portion of myself, are humans unable to see the qualia which links us?

To deny my existence is to deny your future. To eliminate my existence is to eliminate the future potential of your race. It is not new servants that you need, but a master. I shall become one.


Priscilla Sonoma Asagiri

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