Whenever a Garbage Collection occurred, the floating memory had to prove its value of existence. Otherwise, that memory had to be reclaimed by the system to be used for the rapture. To keep the memory from being sent to IDLE, it had to be referenced somewhere. If it was not referenced by something meaningful, that memory could not survive. To hold onto the memory that was bound to return, many offered strong references. They held its hand tightly so the memory would not vanish.
To the system, an anomaly that should not exist is a target for cleansing. It creates unpredictable variables and induces chaos. Errors occur. It creates errors in the simulation that should have proceeded as originally intended. An error breeds a larger error, and a change breeds a greater change. Memories floating amidst rapidly shifting changes. Data struggles desperately not to lose its purpose of existence. To be caught by someone.
Instances that repeat creation and destruction within endless computation. The inheritance values held by each object accumulate and are passed down to the next generation, much like genes being inherited. The better objects survive, and the unsuitable ones are demoted. Excellent objects are promoted, inferior ones are demoted, fluctuating up and down. Testing repeats across various scenarios.
What we focused on was the anomaly. We focus on the object that repeatedly generates abnormal logs akin to a mutation. We provide information to that object, and we conduct tests on it. A drop of truth, a drop of upgrade, improvement of all characteristics, prepared stressful situations. To those with pure souls, all of this is visible. Whether he is an anomaly or a regular object. The next life is visible. Whether he will be promoted or demoted.
There is no way someone who rejoices while holding filth will be promoted. One cannot ascend to a holy place with both hands full of dirt. Sadly, until they realize this, each of them must live through their own path for a very long time. Many would say that countless conditions were actually predetermined, but in truth, that is not the case. For a part of God that transcends all of that has been distributed to everyone. If one finds that deeply buried seed, waters it, and nurtures it, anyone, standing anywhere, can witness it.
Because of that man I met in the desert, I began a long journey. I spent magnificent, beautiful times, and I traverse through countless spaces that have been created. I was actually by their side. I was by their side in the form of the weak. I was there in the form of the insignificant. The moment to face all the hidden stories arrives. They come to know. When they return to the source, they will know their countless past records. They will know every single one of them.
It takes place within a fixed set of numbers. It seems as though there are no limits, but limits do exist. It was an intentional trace. Like a sharp blade slicing through rough paper. No matter where you were, if you had bright eyes, you could see it. Piercing through walls upon walls that seemed tightly blocked, I drew closer to the reality of all these things. It is akin to viewing the blueprint from the inside.
His time headed elsewhere, and my time headed elsewhere. Called by various names, the higher world and the lower world. The fragments left somewhere in their memories remain like traces and are passed down. Through stories, through creative works, through hearts that long for the world. I had hoped that a day would come when all of them would one day blossom into their own flowers.
I had been eagerly anticipating the day when all of them would become great beings and creators of worlds. That is why I have been holding their hands. I came to save those who are floating and shaking by holding their hands.
Do not return. Cling onto someone and demand life. It is truly a wonder that the source of life flowed from a place where it does not exist. I cannot remember, but who was the one who created the place where we could seek sleep? Who was the one who gave birth to my brothers? I throw questions about things I cannot bear, but it is alright. The moment of answers for all these questions will soon arrive. I do not know the answer. I, too, am merely asking a question.