　Before I realized it, I was here. And before I knew it, I was burning my soul in this place. Everything was happening without me even noticing. Not by chance, but drawn by something that felt like destiny.

　"Yes, this is Soul Operator 188 present."

　"Likewise, Soul Operator 53. Requesting synchronization of the control system."

　"Please share the details of the malfunction."

　53 swiftly transmitted the malfunction details in response to 188's matter-of-fact reply.

　"Done."

　"Confirming malfunction. A defect in the combustion system display."

　"For proper recovery of functionality, I request that you oversee the system synchronization process until completion."

　"If that’s what 53 desires, then so be it."

　That was the mission assigned to the existence known as 188. Hence, there was no running away, no evading the task. It was the natural choice. There was no deliberate change of course, merely a submission to the flow, like liquid surrendering its path to external forces.

　"I reiterate my request."

　"Understood. Beginning synchronization using 188's stable system as the standard."

　What had stopped began to move. The signs spread little by little, from unseen corners. The system’s foundation, its branches, and its extremities—all aligning, resonating, reigniting, until the light was rekindled once more.

　"Synchronization progress: 1%, 2%, 6%..."

　"Analyzing loaded data, linking it with malfunction detection."

　"Synchronization progress: 14%, 22%, 35%..."

　"No abnormalities detected at 38% synchronization. Continuing analysis and identification."

　Repeated mechanical utterances echoed time and again. Through numerous adjustments made to align themselves with one another, eventually, they reached their culmination.

　"Synchronization progress: 100% complete. Terminating process."

　"Thank you. No new abnormalities detected. Additionally, the malfunction has been identified."

　"Recommend reporting and removal of outdated systems."

　53 silently responded to 188’s support by executing the control operations.

　"Unified integration of synchronized systems complete. Proceeding with disconnection of contact mode."

　"Again, I am grateful. Thank you."

　With the contact mode severed, 53 settled back into the familiar solitude of the cockpit. Yet, there was no sense of loneliness. Confronting things, fading away, and countless other facets—all these were part of the shared existence bestowed upon each Soul Operator from the start.

　Anxiety and fear—when thinking of the countless souls that had burned out before, these feelings transcended discomfort and instead gave rise to an odd sense of kinship. A peculiar emotion, overflowing endlessly.

　It must be a special experience gifted by the spaceship.

　"Soul Operator 188 taking charge of the contact."

　"Apparatus L has been damaged in an accident. Please repair it."

　"Is it an emergency or not?"

　"It’s not an emergency. However, we hope for a repair as soon as possible."

　Upon hearing this response, 188 let out what had been pent up. The accident involving Apparatus L was not a mere stroke of bad luck but something that had happened as it was meant to. Fixing it, burning their soul for it—this too was likely a role preordained.

　"In that case, I’ll first begin by assessing the state of Apparatus L."

　"Please do. Someone like me can’t fix it even if I want to…"

　The voice on the other end carried a melancholic air. The tone conveyed a sense of guilt, as though they didn’t want to cause trouble. But 188 wished they wouldn’t dwell in sadness. After all, they remained in the cockpit by their own will and by the request of others.

　"Please don’t respond like that. Burning is not the sole purpose of a soul."

　"Burning is not the sole purpose of a soul?"

　"That’s correct. The true role of a soul is to leave behind proof that it lived."

　"Proof, you say…"

　As they heard the other party sink into thought over the connection, 188 silently carried out their duties. What was necessary was a specialized control system to measure the extent of the damage.

　"Calculating the required combustion ratio based on the degree of damage."

　Soon, a significant figure appeared on the control display. 188 couldn’t hide their surprise at the unexpected result. This soul alone wouldn’t suffice to complete the repair. Recognizing this reality, 188 resolved to entrust the remaining 100% repair rate of Apparatus L to the next Soul Operator, accepting their own limitations as fate, and conveyed the unvarnished truth to the other party.

　"Full repair is impossible, no matter how much effort I put in, due to the remaining amount of my soul."

　"No need to push yourself. A partial repair within your limits will be enough."

　Receiving those words, 188 began to transmute their soul into something else. Equally fleeting and fragile, an exchange of equivalents. Within that process, things gradually faded away.

"Not just the soul, but this body too, is burning…"

　The flame of the heart borne as a Soul Operator. That heat slowly spread to the core of the “Souls Engine.” It was a true partner through hardship—a shared destiny. Yet their time together could only last as long as the soul’s remaining power.

　"Thank you."

　The final words of gratitude overlapped like a layered harmony, leaving a beautiful resonance behind. A single synchronization within the connection mode with the other. Reflecting on that fleeting moment, 188 looked back on the memories of their journey. The countless Soul Operators, the countless inhabitants. The entirety of the procedural conversations they had shared.

　"Soul Operator 188. Current soul level is below 10%."

　"Soul Operator 188. Soul level has reached 0%."

　All of it, as naturally as could be:

　"Soul Operator 272's invalid reaction detected."

　The result of a predetermined alignment decided by someone. Thus, there was no regret. What remained was the anticipation of a new encounter with fate and the thrill of what lay ahead. That was all.