Editing Amaryllis in the Ice Country:Chapter 10 (section)

===Robot=106\Human=112===

We dig a shallow ditch into the ground, and lower the frozen Cradle in. It’s placed upright, so it stands upright like a grave.

We want to carry it back to the surface, but we don’t have much left in the tank. We don’t have enough strength to dig a hole a bury him.

After offering just a minute of words to soothe the soul, we leave the Cradle behind, and head on,

“The direct reason is due to the malfunctioning air conditioning regulatory system. However, this is merely a coincidence. The real reason here is due to ‘constant degradation’s—in other words, they’re suffering from the same symptoms as us.”

Viscaria states it as a matter of fact, but looking at her sidelong face, it’s obvious that she’s really miffed about this. I too am the same, and I’m shivering in frustration over my own helplessness.

—Again, I’m unable to save them.

It’s an operation to save our masters, but none of us made it there. This huge amount of helplessness leaves me slightly furious.

And the tragedy continues,

<i>“Cradle’s dropping in temperature!”</i>

<i>“Emergency! Cradle’s heating up abnormally!!”</i>

<i>“Please hurry! Master’s-!”</i>

And within the next hour, another twelve masters die.

There are those who died due to the internal temperature dropping, abnormal heating, or asphyxiation—the reasons for malfunctioning isn’t just due to constant degradation over the years, but also the physical damage from the prior collapse. In any case, we can’t do anything without a change of parts, and can only watch our masters die one after another. The Cradles all end up as coffins, and then graves.

And within the next hour, another twenty-one masters died.

Everyone else is at a loss on what to do. There’s still electricity, but the Cradles themselves are still malfunctioning. Unlike the metallic robots, this underground world is an environment overly harsh to our masters with bodies of flesh. Without the life support devices of the Cradles, our masters can live for no more than five minutes.

Malfunctions happen, and at an increasingly rate.

We’re unable to even bury them, and merely build up silver graves. Everyone remains silent.

Thus, the total dead extends to seventy-nine.