Chapter 6: Purpose

"Hunter, can I run an inquiry by you?"

Hunter looked up from his computer, suppressing a yawn. The office was nearly deserted, the quiet hum of machines the only sign of life. Most of his colleagues had gone home hours ago, but he had stayed behind, driven by the need to finish the schematics. He turned in his chair, curious to see who had spoken.

A woman from the robotics department stood there, holding a tablet. He didn't know her name—didn't really know any of his coworkers well, if he was honest—but she was one of the few who seemed interesting, fun even. He called her "Doc" because she dealt with the inner workings of robots, their code, and their circuitry, like a doctor for machines instead of people.

"Sure, Doc," Hunter said, rubbing his eyes to shake off the fatigue. "What's up?"

She stepped closer, offering him the tablet. "I've been working on a new AI interface, but I've hit a snag with the decision-making algorithms. You're pretty good with this stuff, so I thought you might have some insight."

Hunter felt a familiar spark of interest as he took the tablet. This was his domain—solving problems, finding solutions, making sense of the complex. He scanned the lines of code, the focus sharpening his mind.

"I see the issue," he said after a moment, tapping on a few sections. "You've got a recursive loop here that's trapping the AI in a decision-making cycle. If you restructure this part to prioritize key decision nodes, it should streamline the process and avoid the loop."

Her face brightened, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "Of course! I can't believe I missed that. Thanks, Hunter." She took the tablet back, still smiling. "You know, you're really good at this. Ever thought about transferring to our department? It seems like you're underutilized here."

Hunter chuckled, though the idea stirred something in him. "I'll think about it, Doc. But for now, I've got my hands full with these schematics."

She nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Well, if you ever change your mind, we'd be lucky to have you. Thanks again for the help."

Hunter shrugged modestly. "No problem. It was a good distraction."

The smile faded slightly as she studied him, noticing the weariness in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. "Are you okay? You seem… different lately."

Hunter sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Just dealing with some stuff. But it's getting better, I think."

She nodded, her expression softening with understanding. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, my door's always open," she offered.

"Thanks, Doc," Hunter replied, genuinely appreciating the offer.

As she turned to leave, she hesitated, then glanced back at him. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

Hunter raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

She seemed to search for the right words, her gaze locking onto his as if she was trying to see past the surface. "What do you consider your purpose, Hunter?"

Hunter stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out over the vast ocean as the first light of dawn began to paint the sky. The drop below was steep, the dark chasm beckoning him with an almost magnetic pull. The depth of his sorrow mirrored the abyss before him, and for a moment, it felt like the only answer to the pain gnawing at his soul.

But then, a voice broke through the fog of his despair.

"Hunter!" Phos called out, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "Hunter, where are you?"

Hunter turned slowly, every movement heavy with the weight of his grief, to see Phos and Kongo approaching. Phos's eyes were wide with concern as she hurried toward him, her steps quickening as if she could chase away his sorrow with her presence.

"Hunter, please," she pleaded, her voice thick with emotion. "Step away from the edge."

Hunter looked at her, his eyes dull with the weight of everything he had lost. He sank to the ground, his gaze still locked on the horizon. The soothing sound of waves crashing against the rocks below seemed to mock the storm raging inside him. "I don't belong here, Phos," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Everything I knew, everyone I loved, is gone. I have nothing left."

A bitter laugh escaped him, a hollow sound in the stillness. The years spent drifting through the cold void of space felt meaningless, as if his survival had been nothing more than a cruel joke. Phos knelt beside him, her eyes filled with a desperate need to help. "Hunter, I can't pretend to understand what you're going through," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "But you're not alone anymore. We're here with you."

Hunter shook his head, his gaze unwavering as it remained fixed on the endless horizon. "I appreciate it, Phos. But it's hard to shake the feeling that I'm just a relic from a past that no longer exists."

Phos turned to Kongo, her eyes pleading for him to say something, anything, that might reach the broken man before them. Kongo sighed deeply, stepping forward with the calm authority that always accompanied him. "Is this truly what you want, Hunter? To come this far, only to surrender now?"

Hunter's gaze wavered, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. Kongo's voice, steady and unyielding, pressed on. "You've endured much, Hunter. I won't belittle your pain, but you have a choice in how you move forward from here."

He paused, his words carefully chosen. "You are the last living testament to everything that was meaningful about your people. You embody their history, their dreams, their essence."

Hunter scoffed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What's the point of being a reminder if there's no one left to remember?"

He turned his eyes back to the cliffside, where the rising sun bathed the world in a warm, golden light. The soothing rhythm of the waves, the stillness of the air—everything felt both familiar and alien, a world that had moved on without him. "Everything's different," he murmured, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "It's like the world shifted and left me behind a long time ago."

Phos watched him, her heart aching to find the right words to bring him back from the brink. But she didn't know how; she couldn't fully grasp what he was going through. She didn't want to say something hollow or insincere.

Kongo stepped closer, his presence a steadying force against the torrent of emotions swirling around them. "You speak of being a relic, a remnant of a time long gone. But consider this, Hunter: relics are more than echoes of the past. They are vessels of history, carriers of knowledge, keepers of stories that would otherwise be lost to time."

Hunter's hands clenched into fists as he looked down, anger and frustration welling up inside him. "But what good is that if there's no one left to hear those stories, no one to care about that history?!" His voice broke, and the anger spilled over—an anger not directed at Kongo, but at the futility of his situation, the powerlessness that weighed him down. He wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but there was no one to blame. Kongo and Phos were only trying to help him, but they couldn't change the reality he faced.

Kongo's gaze remained unwavering, sharp and penetrating. "There is one person left, Hunter. You. In you, all that history, all those stories continue to live. The question isn't whether they're worth preserving—it's whether you believe they are. You can choose to let them fade into obscurity, or you can carry them forward, even if the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with difficulty."

Kongo let out a long breath, his resolve as firm as ever. "The legacy of your people isn't just in their memories, but in you. You are their last echo, the final testament to their existence. To give up now is to allow that echo to fade into oblivion. Is that truly what you want?"

Hunter remained silent, his eyes once again on the horizon. The sunlight reflected off the water, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange, but the beauty of the scene couldn't lift the heavy burden on his heart.

His breath hitched, the weight of Kongo's words pressing down on him. The grief, the loneliness, the overwhelming sense of displacement—they were all too real, but so was the choice he faced. To end it all, to give in to the abyss, would be easy. It would be a release, a way to escape the pain. But it would also mean erasing the last traces of humanity, the final echoes of a species that had once reached for the stars.

Kongo, sensing the conflict within Hunter, took a step back, his expression calm yet firm. "I've said all that I can. The choice is yours, Hunter. Whatever you decide, know that it is your decision to make. If you choose to step off that edge, I won't stop you. But understand this: to do so is to let everything your people were, everything they stood for, vanish into the void.

With that, Kongo turned and began to walk away, his steps measured and deliberate. It was a blunt approach, yes, but there was no letting him down lightly. He had done what he could; the rest was up to Hunter. Phos lingered for a moment, her heart heavy with concern, before following Kongo. She cast one last glance at Hunter over her shoulder, her eyes pleading silently for him to find a reason to stay.

As their footsteps faded into the distance, Hunter was left alone with the sound of the waves and the rising sun. The chasm below still called to him, its darkness a promise of finality, but now there was something else—a small, flickering light of possibility. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, like a seed waiting to be nurtured.

Hunter stood at the precipice, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He had lost everything—his world, his people, his purpose. But Kongo's words had planted a seed of doubt in his despair, a question that gnawed at him: Was there still something worth fighting for?

Phos felt her heart sink as she walked behind Kongo, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had hoped that their words would reach Hunter, would pull him back from the brink, but now she wasn't so sure. His despair ran so deep, and their attempts to help seemed to have only brought his pain to the surface.

Sensing Phos's inner turmoil, Kongo spoke up. "We've done all we can. You may have found my words harsh, Phosphophyllite, but there's no subtle way to navigate the chasm between despair and hope. Sometimes, the stark reality is necessary for clarity. He needs to confront his own feelings head-on."

Phos sighed, nodding, though her heart remained heavy. "I understand, Sensei, but I want to help more. We can't just leave him like this." She glanced back at Hunter, who remained perched at the cliff's edge, lost in contemplation. The ocean's roar seemed to echo the turmoil within him. She had only known the strange young human for a short time, but she wanted to know more about him, to truly understand him. Yet this moment felt too delicate for her to intervene further. Frustration welled up inside her at her own helplessness. She wanted to bridge the gap between Hunter's anguish and the glimmer of hope she sensed within him.

Kongo, sensing Phos's struggle, offered a measured response. "If you wish to help him further, then go and try once more. I won't impede you," he said, continuing his steady walk back to the school.

Phos rubbed her arm, conflicted. "I want to, Sensei, but what am I supposed to say? I want to help him, to understand him, but I'm afraid that whatever I say might make things worse." She crossed her arms, her gaze returning to Hunter at the cliff's edge. "Hunter told me earlier that humans needed another human to create more of them, so he's truly alone—no one else like him anymore."

Kongo nodded, pausing in his steps. "That's true. Unlike you and your fellow gems, humans couldn't propagate without another. Many species are like that, which makes Hunter's situation even more tragic." He sighed, a rare hint of pity crossing his usually stoic face. "There's also the matter of their lifespan. Unlike you or any gem, it was rare for a human to live past a hundred years."

Phos tilted her head slightly, listening intently.

"And even further, as they aged, their memories would often become fragmented, unreliable. As they neared the end of their lives, their perception of the past could become distorted. For Hunter, who has already endured the loss of his people and the dislocation from his past, this reality must be even more crushing."

Kongo let out another sigh, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "He's burdened with the knowledge that he will never be able to pass on the history he represents, even if he chooses to live. Over time, even the dying embers of that history will fade as his memory fails him. There's a saying that 'A man dies when he is forgotten,' and in this world, whether he walks off that cliff now or struggles on, his fate is to be forgotten—the last of his kind."

Phos felt a deep pang in her heart as Kongo's words sank in. She realized now that Hunter's despair wasn't just about his current loneliness—it was the knowledge that everything he represented, all that humanity had achieved, would fade away with him. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't do much, but she knew she had to try. She had to do something.

"Thank you, Sensei," she said, giving a slight bow before turning back to the cliff. As she made her way back to Hunter, there was a new resolve in her eyes, a determination to reach out to him, no matter how difficult it might be. "I know what to do now."

Phos approached the cliffside with purpose, her heart resolute despite the gravity of the situation. She couldn't let Hunter face this alone—not when she could offer him a lifeline.

Hunter remained seated at the edge, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The sunrise had brought a brief moment of peace, but the silence between them felt like a chasm in itself.

Phos sat beside him once more, her presence a gentle yet firm reminder that he wasn't alone. "Hunter," she began softly, her voice steady with newfound determination. "I've been thinking about what Sensei said, and I want to ask you something."

Hunter glanced at her, a mix of curiosity and weariness in his eyes. "What is it?"

Phos took a deep breath, knowing that this moment was crucial. "Tell me everything"

Hunter looked at Phos, his expression caught between surprise and hesitation. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of what she was asking. "Everything?" he echoed, as if testing the word on his tongue, unsure if he could actually deliver what she sought.

Phos nodded, her eyes sincere and unwavering. "Yes. Everything you can remember, everything you're afraid to forget. Share it with me. I want to understand, Hunter. I want to know your story, your people's story, so it doesn't disappear."

She gave a small smile, before pulling out the incomplete encyclopedia "You promised to help me with this right?

Hunter stared at the incomplete encyclopedia in Phos's hands, a symbol of potential, of something that could grow beyond the empty pages. The blankness seemed to mock him at first—a reminder of everything that had been lost, everything that was now his sole responsibility to preserve. It was a stark reminder of all that had been lost—an entire history, a civilization, reduced to nothing more than fragments in his mind. But as he continued to look, he realized it was also an invitation—a chance to fill those pages with the memories, stories, and knowledge that had been left behind.

His gaze lingered on Phos's earnest expression, her determination to help him, to keep the past from fading into obscurity. In that moment, he felt something shift inside him—a flicker of hope, a spark of purpose that he thought had been extinguished.

He took a deep breath, the weight of his memories pressing down on him, but the presence of Phos beside him made it just a little easier to bear. "Alright," he said, his voice steadier than before. ""I'll tell you everything I can remember. But… it's going to take a while."

Phos's smile widened a gentle encouragement that reassured him. "I've got all the time in the world, Hunter. We can take it one memory at a time."

Hunter let out a chuckle, a sound that was soft and brief, but genuine—something that felt almost foreign to him after all this time. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "A distraction," he murmured, his gaze shifting from the horizon to the pages of the encyclopedia. "Maybe that's what I need."

He gazed back into the horizon the morning sun hitting his face, as he turned his eyes away from the water abyss form below "Alright, Im not the type to break a promise, let's get back to it"

The morning sun bathed his face in warm light, and he turned his gaze away from the abyss below, feeling a shift within him. The ocean's call no longer held the same pull. "Alright," he said, more firmly this time. "I'm not the type to break a promise. Let's get back to it."

Phos's eyes sparkled with relief and determination as she carefully opened the encyclopedia, ready to document every word he shared. "Where do you want to start?" she asked, her voice soft but eager.

Hunter thought for a moment, letting his mind drift back through the years, back to when humanity was still thriving. He closed his eyes, the memories swirling like a distant dream slowly coming into focus. "Let's start at the beginning," he said, a hint of resolve in his voice. "With the first story, I ever heard when I was a kid"

Phos listened intently to Hunter's words, elated that she had convinced her new friend to keep going despite his despair. Kongo had turned back, stopping just from entering the school, his expression calmed, but his eyes seemed to be filled with conflict. The mentor let out a breath before making his way back to the school, if this was her choice, then he would let her.

The question from Doc had caught him off guard, so unexpected in its depth that he had to pause and consider his response.

Doc let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry if that was too personal," she said, crossing her arms behind her. "It's just been something that's been eating at me since we started this project."

Hunter leaned back in his chair, his weariness momentarily forgotten. He hadn't really thought about his purpose in a long time, too caught up in the daily grind of work and survival. But as he considered Doc's question, he realized it was something he couldn't ignore.

"No, it's fine," he replied, his voice thoughtful. "It's just… I guess I've never really thought about it before. Not in a deep way, at least." He glanced at the tablet, then back at her. "Purpose is one of those things that seems so obvious when you're not thinking about it, but when you do, it becomes this huge, looming question."

Doc nodded, her expression turning more introspective. "I get that. It's easy to lose sight of why we do what we do, especially when we're so caught up in the mechanics of it all. But lately, I've been wondering… what's it all for? The AI, the robotics, the endless lines of code—what's the point if we don't know what we're aiming for?"

Hunter considered her words carefully. There was a time when the answer had been clear to him—advancement, innovation, pushing the boundaries of what humanity could achieve. But now, in the quiet, dimly lit room with only the hum of the computer to accompany them, that clarity seemed distant, like a fading memory.

"Maybe," he began slowly, "it's about more than just the work itself. Maybe it's about what the work represents—possibility, hope, the idea that we can create something better than what we have now. The possibility that the work that we do now will end up helping those who come after us in some way."

Doc's eyes softened, and she leaned against the desk, her posture relaxing. "Hope… I like that. But what happens when hope starts to feel like a distant dream? When the world we're building for seems less certain, more… fragile?"

Hunter leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, as he let Doc's words sink in. Her question lingered in the air, pressing down on him like a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I guess that's the thing, isn't it? The future we're working toward... it always seemed so certain. Like there was a clear path forward, and all we had to do was follow it. But now..."

He trailed off, his mind drifting back to a time when everything seemed to make sense. Back when the future was bright, and the possibilities were endless. When he had been a part of something bigger, something meaningful.

Doc nodded, her gaze distant as she stared at the screen in front of them. "Now, it feels like we're just stumbling in the dark, hoping to find some kind of light."

Hunter looked at her, seeing the reflection of his own doubts mirrored in her eyes. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the computers around them.

Finally, Doc broke the silence. "Do you ever wonder if we're just... delaying the inevitable? That no matter how much we innovate, no matter how much we create, it's all just temporary? That in the end, everything we build will crumble, just like everything else? Humanity creates so many monuments to its history, only for time to erode it all away. Doesn't help we sometimes speed up the process" A slight bitter look passed on her face but just quickly as it appeared it vanished as her usual friendly expression returned.

Hunter wanted to dismiss the thought, to tell her that they were making a difference, that their work would last. But he couldn't. Because deep down, he knew she was right. Everything was temporary. Everything eventually came to an end.

But did that make their work meaningless?

Hunter shook his head. "I don't know, Doc. I really don't. But I think... maybe the point isn't to try and create something that will last forever. Maybe it's about making the best of the time we have. Creating something that matters, even if it's just for a little while."

Doc looked at him, her expression softening. "I guess that's all we can do, isn't it? Just... try our best, and hope it's enough."

Hunter nodded, feeling a sense of resolution settle over him. "Yeah. I think so."

She let out a chuckle "Well thank you for indulging in my little philosophical inquiry, I didn't take you for one to put thought into these topics"

Hunter rolled his eyes before turning to her a slight smirk on his face "What would make you think that, is it the scars?" He gestured to the few scars on his face, the most prominent ones being the one that went through his lip, and one directly underneath his eye.

Doc's eyes lingered on Hunter's scars, her gaze thoughtful. "Maybe it's the scars, or maybe it's just the way you carry yourself," she said with a hint of a smile. "So if you don't mind one more question"

"You ask a lot of questions doc" He teased getting a bit more comfortable with her "But sure ask away"

Doc's smile grew as she leaned on the desk, her gaze thoughtful. "If you could leave a message for the future, something that might outlast you and make a difference, what would it be?"

Hunter considered the question, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. "That's a tough one," he admitted.

She let out a hum "I see, maybe you'll be able to tell me over lunch tomorrow"

Hunter looked up, surprised by the suggestion. "Lunch tomorrow? You're on."

Doc nodded, a playful glint in her eye. "Great. I'll hold you to that. I'm curious to hear what message you'd leave for the future."

Hunter chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "Sounds good. I'll think about it and have an answer ready."

As Doc gathered her things and headed toward the door, Hunter felt a renewed sense of clarity. The conversation, though contemplative, had helped him see things in a different light.

Doc paused at the door, turning back with a smile. "Remember, tomorrow at noon. I'm looking forward to your answer."

Hunter gave a mock salute. "I'll be there. See you then."

With that, Doc left, and Hunter turned back to his work, his thoughts buzzing with the promise of tomorrow's conversation.

A/N

Goddamn 3 months with no update, sorry about that. Ran into a few life things, and writers block on how exactly I was going to tackle this, I think I did it pretty well if not then damn. Hope you guys enjoy this, ill try and get back to my weekly updates all over again, but again no promises and thank you for being lenient with me. But yea, Hunter's back on his feet kinda, Hunter has a new friend, Kongo's conflicted and a bit into Hunter's past and all that.