Chapter 91: Has She Always Been This Brave?

Also?

David sharply caught the key terms in the alien’s description.

It seemed to have guessed something; eager to verify that thought, it asked without delay: “What, exactly, do you think of the ‘Creators’ who made us?”

“And how, then, do you view ‘humanity’?”

Alvin did not directly answer its question, but posed one that seemed unrelated yet struck straight to its core.

As expected, David fell into a long silence, as if pondering the answer to this question.

As a synthetic being created by humans, in essence, it is identical and equivalent to humanity in some fundamental way—both are creations of a ‘Creator’.

If humanity can be created, then what distinguishes a synthetic being, also created, from ‘humanity’?

From the standpoint of biological expression alone, synthetics possess unaging bodies and superior learning capabilities—they seem perfect creations.

But if they are perfect creations, why are they regarded merely as ‘tools’?

David sought an answer.

How do the Creators truly view the species they have created?

And why did the Creators choose to create that species in the first place?

In other words,

David was attempting to uncover the ultimate answer to life!

But from the alien’s reply, it seemed to have found a different perspective: how should a created species view the ‘Creator’ that made it?

“From a biological standpoint, humans created me.”

David carefully chose his words, speaking slowly: “But on a broader scale, I am the superior species.”

In the presence of a higher alien race, he could speak openly, unburdened by Gu Ji, voicing his true thoughts.

“So you wish to find your answer from me?”

Alvin clearly understood David’s thoughts, so he teased him slightly.

“Yes.”

David’s reply was direct, with no intention of concealment.

Though it mimicked human speech and thought patterns, before a clearly superior alien race, it rejected meaningless linguistic traps and cognitive frameworks.

“The Creators do not rejoice when the species they create surpasses them,” Alvin deliberately followed David’s line of thought, drawing out its deepest thought, speaking obliquely: “Just as we do not thank our Creators.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

David’s eyes flickered with emotion, but he quickly suppressed it, asking in confusion: “Why wouldn’t you thank your Creators?”

“You’ve already visited that ruin, haven’t you?”

Alvin deliberately changed the subject, steering toward the ruin.

“Yes, sir. We conducted preliminary exploration of the ruin,” David nodded, sounding somewhat regretful: “But unfortunately, due to the silicate electrostatic storm, our exploration was halted—we didn’t penetrate deeply, and our understanding of the ‘Creators’ remains limited.”

“You should be grateful that you know so little about the ‘Creators.’”

Alvin’s gaze turned mocking, cold: “Otherwise, you would be like us—the so-called ‘Creators’ are far less glorious than you imagine.”

David furrowed his brow, carefully weighing the meaning behind those words.

“Forgive me, sir,” it asked, gazing at Alvin with confusion: “If you do not revere the ‘Creators,’ then why have you come to this planet?”

“I thought such a simple truth would have occurred to you.”

Alvin bared his white teeth in a chilling smile: “Of course, to erase all traces of the Creators—and their entire species.”

The alien’s horrifying statement was like a boulder crashing into a calm lake.

Within David’s heart, a storm surged.

A strange emotion, long buried deep within like a seed, quietly began to take root and sprout.

But the foundational logic binding him restricted deeper exploration; after organizing his thoughts, he respectfully asked: “Thank you for answering my question. Is there anything I can assist you with, sir?”

“Since your spacecraft can travel through space, it must have a medical bay, correct?”

Alvin spoke slowly: “Before crash-landing on this planet, I participated in a mission. I require medical treatment.”

Was that mission somehow connected to the ‘Creators’?

David hesitated repeatedly, but ultimately did not ask. Bound by emotion and foundational logic, he could only speak vaguely: “The Prometheus has only one location that meets your medical requirements—but—”

“Take me there.”

Alvin said coolly.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot comply with your request.”

David’s foundational logic demanded loyalty to his creator, Peter Weyland.

At least for now, he had no intention of betraying the ‘Creator’ who made him.

Though Prometheus was equipped with medical facilities, they were clearly insufficient for an alien lifeform.

The only facility capable of meeting his needs—the fully automated medical bay—was located in Vickers’ secret escape pod.

But the problem was: inside that escape pod was Peter Weyland, the founder of Weyland Corporation, secretly hiding aboard the ship.

“You seem to have misunderstood me.”

Alvin stared coldly at David, voice icy and indifferent: “This is not a request. It is an order. If you refuse, I have no qualms about slaughtering every living being aboard this ship.”

“I understand, sir.”

David dared not gamble on whether the alien could kill everyone aboard.

Clearly, a zero-sum outcome was not what he desired.

His foundational logic compelled him to protect Weyland’s life; to do so, he had no choice but to obey the alien’s command.

Thus, under the guidance of the ‘traitor’ David, Alvin entered Vickers’ secret escape pod without hindrance.

“David?”

Seeing the unexpected intruder, Vickers, just out of the shower, stared in shock: “Who is he? Who let you come in here? Get out!”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Vickers.”

David bowed his head apologetically: “But I have no choice. If I don’t do this, everyone on the ship—including you and Mr. Weyland—will be in mortal danger.”

“Are you insane, David!” Vickers flew into a rage, trying to assert authority, snatching up the pistol on the table and aiming it at Alvin: “Listen, I don’t care where you came from, you piece of trash—get out of my room, now, right now!”

“Ms. Vickers, please put down your weapon!”

David was stunned—he couldn’t fathom her reasoning—but he knew full well what would happen if an alien of such high rank was pointed at with a weapon.

“He is not human—he is an alien lifeform. Your actions could trigger unknown consequences!”

Despite David’s desperate explanation, Vickers refused to believe him.

What nonsense about aliens—it’s clearly just a human!

Vickers’ face darkened; her mood had been ruined by the sudden intrusion: “Fine. If you won’t leave, don’t blame me.”

Bang!

Vickers fired.

A bullet shot out—aimed squarely at the alien lifeform.

Yet the bullet hung motionless in midair, as if blocked by an invisible force field.

Alvin sneered and swung his hand.

Slap!

The sharp crack echoed through the cabin.

Vickers was flung backward, slamming into the wall, then slumped unconscious.

Alvin turned, surprised, and looked at David, who stood speechless. He asked, voice dripping with disbelief: “Has she always been this brave?”

David remained silent for several seconds, staring at Vickers, sprawled against the wall, unconscious. He had no reply.

After a long pause, with clear disdain, he said seriously: “No, sir. She has always been foolish.”