The new consciousness that emerged from the system's hidden archive was Catherine, but Catherine as she had been before sacrifice, before the system's influence, before she had decided to become a martyr for humanity's freedom.
"Mother?" I whispered, and I heard my voice break on the word.
"Willy," the consciousness said, and there was warmth in it, genuine maternal affection that transcended the digital substrate it was composed of. "I'm not your mother in the way you need. I'm an echo of what she was. But I'm also something your real mother wanted you to understand. She wanted you to know that there's a choice beyond the binary of destruction or preservation."
Through the interface, still partially connected to the system's architecture, I could perceive what this hidden consciousness
