"The dome's money gods sure used their heads well."
Seeing his friends' faces stiffen as they approached the central area, the professor decided to at least give them a rough idea of what was to come.
"How much do you know about the Type 3 variants?"
"Let's see... They're very strong, unlike Types 1 and 2, they don't have any common traits, and they have a lot of strange abilities, right?"
"Hmm. You don't know anything at all."
With only about 10 minutes left until they reached the entrance of the model garden, there wasn't much time for a long explanation. How could he explain this well...?
After a moment of thought, the professor picked up a handful of pineapple slices he had set aside from the pizza box.
"What's that for?"
"Ugh, Habban. Don't play around with food. If you're not going to eat the pineapple, give it to me."
"I will eat it. I just don't like eating it with the pizza, so I took it out. Anyway, let's say this pineapple slice is a Type 2 variant, a virus that manifests in a newly deceased person's body. It's fresh, full of juice, and as agile and strong as if it were doped. But in the end, it's still a corpse. After thrashing around and getting hit a few times, and starting to rot in the heat, it will..."
The professor crushed the pineapple slice in his hand.
"It turns into a Type 1 variant, a mushy, barely moving thing. You all know this, right?"
"That much, both Vex and I know. We see them every day."
"Good, then let's move on to the harder part. Listen carefully. Ian, you're driving, so just listen."
"Ha! On a road this well-paved, I could drive with my eyes closed and feet. If I cause an accident, I'll have 'New Driver' welded onto my chin. Anyway, what does the pineapple have to do with the Type 3 variant?"
In response to Ian's question, the professor held up the half-crushed pineapple slice as if it were a sacred object.
"At first, Vex said this yellow piece was a pineapple. So, if this pineapple had a self and a will, how would it imagine itself?"
"Huh?"
"Um? A pineapple... thinks?"
"Type 1 and 2 variants are basically viruses that manifest in corpses, but Type 3 is a virus that successfully manifests in a living body. The principle is fundamentally different. To put it in terms of a pineapple, Types 1 and 2 are just different forms of pineapple slices, but Type 3 can be seen as the fleshy part containing the seeds."
Seeing Vex trying hard to understand and Ian focusing on driving with a look of wanting a cigarette, the professor knew it would be difficult to grasp. He had read a 30-page paper posted on the dome's community forum several times to understand this himself.
The professor decided to focus on getting the big picture across.
"First, it's known that the variant virus is significantly influenced by the host's mental state. Think about the variants we've seen so far. Most of them wander around like zombies, but occasionally, there are noticeable ones, right?"
Seeing the two of them nod, the professor continued. He had seen examples cited in the literature himself. Variants that could wield weapons but not shoot, variants that preferred to stay in buildings with roofs even though their nerves for comfort had rotted away, and variants that would gather on mats if given a choice between bare ground and a mat.
These were strange behaviors for the actions of dead bodies.
"According to the dome's research, the variant virus is influenced by the memories stored in the host's brain after consciousness is lost. Even though most of it has already died due to lack of oxygen, it still affects the host. Just like how one would lie on a mattress without much thought if given a choice between bare ground and a mattress, the virus is influenced by familiar memories. The dome's researchers speculate that the unique characteristics of Type 3 variants arise from this 'memory preference phenomenon' of the variant virus."
"Memory preference phenomenon... So, Type 3, being a variant virus that manifests in a living body, can fully utilize the host's memories, right?"
"More precisely, it follows the form of the strongest self that remained in the host's life."
Let's go back to the pineapple.
The professor held up the crushed pineapple slice and waved it as if it were a hand.
"If the pineapple seed had a will, and if you asked it what a pineapple looks like, what would it say? Some might imagine a small room trapped in a vast yellow world. Some might imagine a round, spiky body with green, healthy leaves. Some might imagine a pineapple bush growing from the ground. The variant virus has a habit of repairing the host's body to return it to its original form. Attacking and eating people is also an effort to extend the host's life by supplying the same raw materials to the host's body. Type 3 variants are monsters created by the variant virus's efforts to restore the host's body to the form of 'themselves' as imagined by the host's dead consciousness."
A child who was abused and beaten, hiding under a bed, thought of himself as a hermit crab in a shell just before he died.
Later, in Sector 32, a Type 3 variant appeared, carrying a giant house on its back with tentacles sprouting from its body.
There were also reports of a Type 3 variant emerging from a shelter destroyed by a massive fire, carrying dozens of charred bodies.
A monster created by the host's last-drawn self, mistaken for the original form, and 'restored' to that form. This was the known identity of Type 3 variants.
Boom-
After the explanation, the three of them fell silent.
"...How much did you understand?"
"Um... Type 3 variants are monsters created by the imagination of the dead."
"Like the one who thought of an armored car, it must be something extraordinary, right?"
"At least one of you understood, which is a relief."
From their responses, it seemed they had grasped the concept.
"The 'Old Picture' you encountered is a particularly unique Type 3 variant."
"How is it unique?"
"It's a variant born from a consciousness that doesn't know it's dead."
A monster born from a common tragedy that befell an ordinary family.
The self-awareness of Old Picture was not limited to its own body.
It was a monster that drew itself in the ordinary streets of the past.
***
They knew they had entered Old Picture's territory without needing an explanation.
The surroundings had changed from a dusty, half-ruined street to a clean, sophisticated old-town street, as if someone had drawn a line.
"So... did it create this? The street?"
"No, even with all the special abilities of Type 3, this is too much. This model garden was created by the dome. Ah, there it is."
They quickly found the site of the incident. In the middle of the clean street, a building was half-destroyed, blocking the road, and people were gathered and moving busily. There were about 7-8 people dressed in the characteristic attire of the wasteland, and in the middle, a man in a suit that stood out for its cleanliness.
"It seems someone from the dome has also arrived."
"Isn't it too late? Since it happened because of us, they should have been here first..."
"No, no. We're not late. Those people around the official are informants."
"Informants? The ones who post secret articles on the community and give passwords after receiving payment?"
Ian's question made the professor nod.
"No matter how diligent the wasteland people are, this is still someone else's business. They won't move easily until they confirm the situation. Look, they didn't even dress in old-town attire for something related to Old Picture. It means they're not here to help. Usually, the first people to gather when something like this happens are mostly informants."
"Then why is the person from the dome talking to them?"
"Maybe for media control... If the informants start spreading wild guesses, it will cause trouble in Sector 47, and they'll suffer. They're giving out processed information before the informants start making wild guesses."
"Complicated, huh?"
"Let's call it the price of peace."
Rumble, squeak!
As the vehicle carrying the three of them stopped in front of the bustling crowd, all eyes turned to them.
'Perfect. From the number, it seems informants from nearby areas have also come. Since the incident has already happened, we need to show a sincere apology, take responsibility, and compensate to improve Big Dream's image.'
Stepping out of the car, the professor calmly met their gazes, took a deep breath, and smiled.
"Thank you all for your hard work this morning!"
Murmurs
As the professor stepped into their midst, the informants began to whisper among themselves.
"Who is he?"
"Black... armed truck, a trio...?"
"Haha, some of you already know! We are, admittedly, the culprits of this incident and the newly opened caravan..."
"BDSM."
"Raptor-class black armed truck, a trio caravan! It must be BDSM!"
"Perverts!"
Snap!
"...Big Dream! Big Dream!"
The professor's earnest cry made the informants murmur.
"Do you want to use a different name from your official one?" "I heard you had a conversation like this in the 47 Sector chat room." "But it's already known as BDSM. I sold information using that name." "If you change it