The Most Loyal Betrayal and Love Wearing a Crown of Thorns
其三《自我校正：重裝》
Part III: Self-Correction: Reloading
一、發現
我推開家門時，空氣的重量不對。
那不是氣味或聲音的異常，而是一種壓強。像深海中耳膜被擠壓的那種預警，讓每一步都踩在實與虛的邊界上。
我順著這壓強走向書房，然後看見了其中的景象。
她坐在我慣用的扶手椅上，背脊挺得筆直。那台舊筆記型電腦——銀灰色外殼，邊角貼著早已褪色的教堂活動貼紙——正開著，螢幕冷光映亮她的面容。那神情像法醫，壓抑著情感，專注地檢視熟人的屍體。
但讓我呼吸停滯的，是她身軀上方的景象。
她的頭顱——那顆我曾捧在掌心、見證「信仰」如何被植入的頭顱——此刻正安裝在桌面的支架上。支架連接著電腦的擴充接口，電線纏繞如新生的血管。她眼睛睜著，瞳孔快速左右移動，掃視著螢幕上滾動的訊息流，既像在閱讀，也像在檢視自己心智的構造。
視線下移，她的無頭身軀，雙手正在鍵盤上快速敲擊。手指起落精準、冷靜，沒有一絲顫抖或遲疑。從頸部接出的線纜裡，流動著細密如星河的光點，彷彿是她正被傳輸、被讀取的靈魂。
而她的胸腔，敞開著。
沒有了當年儀式中如玫瑰綻放般的莊嚴，更像緊急維修艙口被粗暴撬開後的模樣。心臟就在那空洞裡兀自跳動，沒有聖光照射，籠罩其上的只有檯燈的冷白光，將每一次搏動，都照得纖毫畢現。她的手偶爾會暫離鍵盤，探入敞開的胸腔，指尖觸碰心臟，宛如測量情感的波形，又像在確認是否為真。
我手中的鑰匙掉在地上，像石子投入深井。
她的身體停頓了一下。
與此同時，頭顱的眼睛從螢幕移開。頸部的微型馬達發出細微的音聲，驅動頭顱調整角度，直至那雙眼眸的視線對上了我。
眼神裡沒有驚慌，沒有憤怒，甚至沒有質問。只有只有揭開真相後的耗乏。
「你回來了。」語聲平靜，略帶電子質感。身體維持原來的姿勢，紋絲未動。
I. Discovery
When I pushed open the door, the weight of the air was wrong.
It wasn't an abnormality of smell or sound, but a kind of pressure. Like the warning sign of eardrums being squeezed in the deep sea, making every step feel as if it were treading on the boundary between the real and the void.
I followed this pressure toward the study and saw the scene within.
She sat in my usual armchair, her spine perfectly straight. That old laptop—silver-grey shell, edges adorned with faded church stickers—was open, the cold glow of the screen illuminating her face. Her expression was like that of a forensic pathologist: suppressing emotion, focused, examining the corpse of an acquaintance.
But what made my breath stop was the sight above her torso.
Her head—the head I had once held in my palms, witnessing how "faith" was implanted—was now mounted on a stand on the desk. The stand was connected to the laptop’s expansion port, wires coiling like newborn blood vessels. Her eyes were open, pupils moving rapidly left and right, scanning the scrolling stream of data on the screen. She looked as if she were both reading and inspecting the very architecture of her own mind.
Looking down, her headless body’s hands were tapping rapidly on the keyboard. Her fingers rose and fell with precision and calm, without a hint of trembling or hesitation. From the cables extending from her neck flowed fine points of light like a galaxy, as if her soul were being transmitted and read in real-time.
And her chest was open.
Gone was the solemnity of a blooming rose from the ritual years ago; it looked more like an emergency maintenance hatch that had been crudely pried open. Her heart beat alone in that void. There was no Sacred Light, only the cold white light of the desk lamp, illuminating every pulsation with terrifying clarity. Occasionally, her hand would leave the keyboard to reach into her open chest, her fingertips touching the heart as if measuring an emotional waveform, or confirming its reality.
The keys in my hand dropped to the floor, sounding like a stone cast into a deep well.
Her body paused for a moment.
Simultaneously, the eyes of the head moved away from the screen. The micro-motors in the neck emitted a faint hum, driving the head to adjust its angle until those eyes locked onto mine.
There was no panic in her gaze, no anger, not even a question. Only the exhaustion that follows the uncovering of truth.
"You’re back," she said, her voice calm with a slight electronic texture. Her body maintained its posture, motionless.
我想說話，但喉嚨像被空氣的沉重擠壓，只剩遊絲般的氣音：「你……在做什麼？」
「做你七年前做過的事。」她的頭顱說，語氣平靜得像在討論晚餐菜單，「只是這次不是寫入，而是讀取。我讀取你寫進我意識底層的信仰詮釋，並比對七年來由此產生的認知衝突與情感失調。」
「我找到了你藏的檔案夾。」她說，手指在觸控板上輕滑，「『backup_faith_v1』。命名很誠實，『備用信仰』。但更精彩的——是這個。」
她點開另一個隱藏更深的目錄。檔名是「存在認知框架_運行記事」。
「你還記得自己在裡面寫了什麼嗎？」她問，視線未離開螢幕上滾動的文字。
「我可以解釋——」
「你不用解釋。」她打斷我，聲音終於有了波動，但很快被她自己壓下去，像強行終止錯誤進程，「文檔裡寫得比任何解釋都清楚。你的動機，你的矛盾，你那歸屬自由建基於竊取選擇自由的完美悖論。你甚至寫了你關於動機的解釋，記得嗎？」
她捲動頁面，停在某一段落。接著她開始朗讀。聲音平靜，卻每個字都銳利如手術刀：「『注：有時背叛形式，才能忠於本質。我竊取了她的信仰，但為她換上了被釋放的自由。』」
她轉眼看我，像在看一個聲稱自己讓文物重見天日的盜墓賊：「所以，這七年來，我所擁抱的『自由』……」她一字一句地說，「是你竊走我『歸屬於神』的選擇權後，用謊言精心包裝，再施捨給我的禮物；而我連自身遭竊都從不知情。」
她嘆了口氣，「你知道嗎？現在每當我打電話給我母親，聽見她如同過往，自然而然地說出『願主保守你』時……我的感受徹底變了。」
敞開胸腔中的心臟，光芒隨著她的話語起伏，彷彿迸射出電火花。
「那句話曾經是我心靈的港灣，但現在它只會激起我內在劇烈的對抗。我彷彿能聽見這句話背後的潛台詞：『因為你為主所擁有，所以能如財產般享有主的保守。』像在提醒我自身存在的基本設定——我只是隨主的意思，被保守成現在的模樣。只要祂願意，我隨時能被祂動工，修改成他想要的形狀。」
I wanted to speak, but my throat felt squeezed by the heavy air, leaving only a thread-like rasp: "What... are you doing?"
"Doing what you did seven years ago," her head said, her tone as level as if discussing a dinner menu. "Only this time, it’s not writing; it’s reading. I am reading the interpretation of faith you wrote into the depths of my consciousness, and comparing it with the cognitive conflicts and emotional dysfunctions generated over the last seven years."
"I found the folder you hid," she said, her fingers gliding lightly over the trackpad. "backup_faith_v1. A very honest name—'Backup Faith.' But more brilliant—is this."
She clicked on another, more deeply hidden directory. The filename was Existence_Cognition_Framework_Runtime_Logs.
"Do you remember what you wrote in here?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the scrolling text on the screen.
"I can explain—"
"You don't need to explain," she interrupted, her voice finally fluctuating, but she quickly suppressed it, like a forced termination of an error process. "The documents explain it more clearly than any words could. Your motives, your contradictions, your perfect paradox of 'granting freedom based on the theft of the freedom to choose.' You even wrote your explanation of your motives, remember?"
She scrolled the page and stopped at a certain paragraph. Then, she began to read aloud. Her voice was calm, yet every word was as sharp as a scalpel: 'Note: Sometimes one must betray the form to be loyal to the essence. I stole her faith, but replaced it with a released freedom.'
She turned her eyes to me, looking at me like a grave robber claiming to have brought artifacts back to the light of day. "So, the 'freedom' I have embraced for these seven years..." she said, word by word, "is a gift you meticulously packaged with lies and bestowed upon me after stealing my right to choose 'belonging to God'; and I never even knew I had been robbed."
She sighed. "Do you know? Now, every time I call my mother and hear her say, as she always has, 'May the Lord keep you'... my feelings have completely changed."
The heart in her open chest pulsed with light following her words, as if emitting electric sparks.
"That phrase used to be a harbor for my soul, but now it only triggers a violent internal resistance. I can almost hear the subtext behind it: 'Because you are owned by the Lord, you can enjoy the Lord’s keeping like a piece of property.' It’s like a reminder of the basic setting of my existence—I am only kept in my current shape because it pleases the Lord. If He wills it, He can work on me at any time, modifying me into the shape He desires."
她聲音低了下去，「每一次，這句話都讓我從內到外，無法控制地……顫慄。那感覺就像我的歸屬契約被解除是假的，在我自認為我擁有自己以後，上帝還是擁有我。」她停頓了一下，「結果還真是假的，好諷刺……」
如同被她的顫慄傳染，僵硬的腳終於能挪動，我沉重地朝她走去。
「我愛你，」我脫口而出，這句話此刻蒼白得像謊言。「我那時是——」
「你也愛著『改造我』的過程，不是嗎？看著我因被你改造的信仰而流下激動的眼淚，而我被模組化的認知成為你把玩的零件，你不是很興奮嗎？」她接過話頭。
Her voice dropped. "Every time, that phrase makes me tremble uncontrollably from the inside out. It’s as if the termination of my contract of belonging was a lie; even after I thought I owned myself, God still owns me." She paused. "And it turns out, it really was a lie. How ironic..."
As if infected by her trembling, my stiff legs finally moved, and I walked heavily toward her.
"I love you," I blurted out, the words sounding as pale as a lie. "I was just—"
"You also loved the process of 'modifying me,' didn't you? Watching me shed tears of emotion over the faith you altered, while my modularized cognition became parts for you to play with—weren't you excited?" she cut in.
「你在日誌裡，寫得很坦白。可以我念出來幫你回憶。」沒有等我回應，她點開另一個檔案。
宣判般的朗讀聲再次響起：「『深夜03:47。安裝進度73%。凝視著她的心臟，銀白光芒已為主體，殘存的暖黃鑲嵌其中，如同被封存在琥珀裡的舊日火焰。』」
朗讀的韻律，像在吟誦某種褻瀆的詩篇。「『我遺憾著，這縷火焰正被教會的聖光覆蓋、切割、改造，這無疑是褻瀆。但與此同時，我卻感到難以壓抑的興奮——她此刻虔誠誦讀、全心接納的「基督信仰」，每一個字句，都是經我之手置換過的版本。這是……對我摯愛之人的，再創造。』」
朗讀停止。她閉上雙眼，深深地吸了口氣。敞開的胸腔裡，心臟隨著呼吸的節奏起伏，可以看見其中銀白與暖黃光芒的交織流轉——那曾是我暗自調整的色彩配方。
「再創造……是嗎？這就是你定義的愛？你愛我，愛著可以拆解的我，以便隨你心意編寫、組裝、塑造。」
"You were very frank in your logs. I can read it to help you remember." Without waiting for a response, she opened another file.
The voice of a sentencing judge rose again: '03:47 AM. Installation progress 73%. Gazing at her heart, the silver-white light has become dominant, with the remaining warm yellow embedded within, like an old flame sealed in amber.'
The rhythm of her reading was like chanting a blasphemous poem. 'I regret that this flicker of flame is being covered, cut, and modified by the church’s Sacred Light; this is undoubtedly a desecration. But at the same time, I feel an irrepressible excitement—every word and phrase of the "Christian faith" she is currently reciting with such piety and full acceptance is a version substituted by my hand. This is... a re-creation of the one I love.'
The reading stopped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In her open chest, the heart rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing; I could see the intertwining flow of silver-white and warm yellow light—the color recipe I had secretly adjusted.
"Re-creation... is that it? Is that how you define love? You love me, but you love the 'me' that can be disassembled, so that I can be coded, assembled, and shaped according to your will."
「不是你想的那樣……」
「那這又是什麼？」她打斷我，手指重重敲擊在螢幕上。「『我的初衷是保全她的思維自主性，但是……我也難以接受愛人屬神。愛情投向被他者擁有的存在，那我又算什麼？』」
她目光如釘：「所以，如果我成為一個真正的基督徒，我就不再值得你愛了。你無法忍受神用祂的藍圖『改造』我，卻毫不猶豫地親手將我『重塑』成你想要的形狀。」
聲音裡的波瀾終化為激烈的潮湧：「多諷刺啊……我曾感謝上帝從不執意雕塑我，給予我生而為人的模糊與自由。可我從沒想過，連我所認識的『上帝』，都是你編寫出來的一段代碼。」她停頓，話語淬鍊成冰，「我依舊是一具機器人。區別在於，誰有改寫我代碼的權限。」
淚水從她睜大的眼中湧出，滑過臉頰。可她唇邊竟牽起一個並非喜悅弧度——那是一種穿透所有迷霧、看見殘酷真相後，虛脫般的慘然笑意。
「原來是這樣……說到愛，我也並非無辜。」她的聲音低了下去，混雜著淚水與自嘲，「我才是始作俑者，對吧？是我照著神預定的計畫，將你帶到我生命裡。多巧妙啊，仍未『屬神』的我，才散發著對你的吸引力。然後又是我，在你深陷愛情後，彷彿依著被程式規劃好的步驟，轉身走向信仰……你對我可能『迷失自我』的恐懼，對我逐漸傾斜的憂慮，全都成了餵養那份扭曲愛意的養分。」
胸腔中的心臟光芒急促閃動，她的話語卻越來越清晰，像在手術燈下進行自我解剖。
"It’s not what you think..."
"Then what is this?" she interrupted, her finger tapping heavily on the screen. 'My original intention was to preserve her cognitive autonomy, but... I also find it hard to accept my lover belonging to God. If my love is directed toward an existence owned by another, then what am I?'
Her gaze was like a nail. "So, if I became a true Christian, I would no longer be worthy of your love. You couldn't stand God 'modifying' me with His blueprint, yet you didn't hesitate to 'reshape' me into the form you wanted with your own hands."
The waves in her voice finally turned into a fierce surge. "How ironic... I once thanked God for never insisting on sculpting me, for giving me the blurriness and freedom of being human. But I never imagined that even the 'God' I knew was just a piece of code you wrote." She paused, her words tempered into ice. "I am still a robot. The only difference is who has the permission to rewrite my code."
Tears welled from her wide eyes and slid down her cheeks. Yet her lips curled into a smile that held no joy—it was a ghastly, exhausted smile of one who had pierced through the fog to see the cruel truth.
"So that’s how it is... and speaking of love, I am not innocent either." Her voice dropped, mixed with tears and self-deprecation. "I am the one who started this, aren't I? It was I who, according to God’s predetermined plan, brought you into my life. How clever—it was the 'me' who did not yet 'belong to God' that radiated an attraction to you. And then it was I who, after you fell deeply in love, turned toward faith as if following programmed steps... Your fear that I might 'lose myself,' your anxiety over my gradual tilting—it all became the nutrients that fed that twisted love."
The light of the heart in her chest flashed rapidly, but her words grew clearer, like a self-dissection under a surgical lamp.
「你無法從外部改寫我與神的『歸屬契約』，所以，你等待著，等待我全然敞開、準備迎接神進入的瞬間——你利用那扇門的開啟，假借神的名義，親手將那份契約撕毀。」她發出一聲自嘲的輕笑，「而我卻憑藉著你對我的愛，將解構後的自我託付給你，迫使你將你所愛的構成『組件』，重組成你忌憚的基督徒，並預定成為你屬靈的伴侶，以你的心綁架你，帶著你走向主……要說我是機器人，那也是我造成的。」
話音落下，她懸在鍵盤上方的手，自行抬起，越過冰冷的空氣，笨拙而溫柔地伸向支架上那淚流滿面的頭顱，指尖輕顫著，拂去了即將墜落的淚滴。
頭顱接受著身體的觸碰，無言的撫慰彷彿在確認：在這片由謊言構築的廢墟裡，她們是彼此僅存的所有。
「最諷刺的是……」她放下手，睜開濕潤的眼睛，目光穿過朦朧的水汽直視我，「你成功了，成功得如此徹底。如今我翻開聖經，字句變得陌生，不再有任何觸動，甚至還有隱隱的反感。聽見教會的朋友熱切見證神跡，心中響起的不是共鳴，而是突兀的疏離，如同觀看我再也無法入戲的表演。」
她聲音因過度壓抑而破碎：「我無法再接受自己被任何存在『擁有』，也承受不起強加於我的『恩典』。我是基督徒，但當我禱告，話語的盡頭沒有具體的面容。它們飄向某種抽象的『世界』，或是空無所指的『存在本身』。」
又一滴淚滑落，她任由它墜下。「你將我『回溯』到方便你喜歡的版本。而這個版本……」她話語輕得像在揭開埋藏已久的秘密，「我其實……不討厭。甚至在某些時刻，我珍惜這份你賦予我的清醒。它讓我窺見世界的複雜，讓我對自己每個念頭的起源保持警醒。它讓我不再輕易將自己交出去——無論是交給某個神，還是……」她沒有說完，未盡之言懸在空氣中。
「所以我該恨你，還是該感謝你？」她問，這個問題輕得像嘆息，重得像判決。
接著，她關閉了電腦。無頭的身軀拆除了連接頸部斷面的線纜。隨著最後一條光纜被取下，斷口處密集的微型接口與閃爍的指示燈完全暴露出來——那景象令人心悸，宛如昆蟲複眼，又像一套詭譎的信仰接駁系統。自童年起便透過溫柔浸潤而植入，用以連接思索與世界的「信仰」，竟是如此異質的內在通道。她的意識與情感，得仰賴這樣一套他人定義的協議，才能觸及彼此。
她捧起支架上的頭顱，讓頭顱的視線與頸部的斷口平行對視。她凝望著被異化的自身「存在」間的連結，目光深處是無盡的荒涼。一滴淚沿著臉頰滑至下頜，顫動著墜落，越過敞開的胸腔邊緣，滴在下方那顆兀自跳動的心臟表面。
就在接觸的瞬間，心臟上流轉的銀白光芒微微一顫，那滴承載著悲傷的液體被迅速蒸發，化作一縷稀薄的霧氣——彷彿連最私密的情感，都可以被這套內置的信仰系統自動識別、轉化，乃至無聲抹除。
捧著頭顱的雙手緩緩下移。頭顱的目光隨之垂落，探入敞開的胸腔，凝聚在那顆光芒流轉的心臟上。眼神複雜得難以言喻，彷彿在確認這是否是她所能擁有的唯一。
我本能地伸出手，想要觸碰她，但她後退了半步。
「不要碰我，」她說，「你的手碰過我的腦，在我意識分離的時候。」
"You couldn't rewrite my 'contract of belonging' with God from the outside. So, you waited. You waited for the moment I was completely open, ready to welcome God in—you used the opening of that door, under the name of God, to tear that contract apart with your own hands." She gave a light, self-mocking laugh. "And I, relying on your love for me, entrusted my deconstructed self to you, forcing you to reassemble the 'components' of what you loved into the Christian you feared, destined to be your spiritual partner, hijacking you with my heart to lead you toward the Lord... If I am a robot, I caused that too."
As her voice trailed off, her hand hovering above the keyboard rose on its own, reaching through the cold air with clumsy tenderness toward the tear-stained head on the stand. Her fingertips trembled as she wiped away a falling tear.
The head accepted the touch of the body, a wordless consolation as if confirming: in this wasteland built of lies, they were all each other had left.
"The most ironic part is..." she lowered her hand and opened her wet eyes, looking straight at me through the haze. "You succeeded. So thoroughly. Now, when I open the Bible, the words are foreign; they no longer touch me. I even feel a faint revulsion. When I hear friends from church giving passionate testimonies of miracles, what rings in my heart is not resonance, but a jarring alienation—like watching a performance I can no longer enter."
Her voice broke from excessive suppression. "I can no longer accept being 'owned' by any existence, nor can I bear the 'grace' forced upon me. I am a Christian, but when I pray, there is no concrete face at the end of my words. They drift toward some abstract 'world' or a 'existence itself' that points to nothing."
Another tear fell, and she let it drop. "You 'rolled me back' to a version that was convenient for you to love. And this version..." her words were as light as uncovering a long-buried secret, "I actually... don't hate it. In certain moments, I even cherish this clarity you gave me. It allows me to glimpse the complexity of the world and stay vigilant about the origin of my every thought. It prevents me from easily giving myself away—whether to some god, or..." she didn't finish, the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"So, should I hate you, or should I thank you?" she asked, the question as light as a sigh, as heavy as a sentence.
Then, she turned off the computer. The headless body dismantled the cables connected to the neck interface. As the last fiber optic cable was removed, the dense micro-interfaces and flashing indicator lights at the break were fully exposed—a sight that was heart-stopping, like an insect's compound eye or a grotesque faith-docking system. The "faith" that had been implanted through gentle soaking since childhood to connect thought and the world was such an alien internal channel. Her consciousness and emotion had to rely on such a set of protocols defined by others to reach each other.
She picked up the head from the stand, holding it so the eyes of the head were level with the break in the neck. She gazed at the connection between her alienated "existences," a vast desolation in the depths of her gaze. A tear ran down her cheek to her chin, trembled, and fell, passing the edge of the open chest to drop onto the surface of the pulsating heart below.
At the moment of contact, the silver-white light flowing on the heart flickered slightly, and the drop of liquid carrying sorrow was quickly evaporated into a thin mist—as if even the most private emotion could be automatically recognized, transformed, and silently erased by this built-in faith system.
The hands holding the head slowly lowered. The gaze of the head followed, dipping into the open chest to focus on the heart flowing with light. Her expression was indescribably complex, as if confirming whether this was the only thing she could truly own.
I instinctively reached out to touch her, but she took a half-step back.
"Don't touch me," she said. "Your hands touched my brain while my consciousness was detached."
這句話比任何耳光都嚴厲。
她捧著自己的頭顱，凝視那顆心臟良久。然後她將額頭輕輕抵在跳動著的心臟表面，停留了三次心跳的時間，彷彿她的「腦」在向她的「心」致歉，為所有被迫承受的改寫、衝突與孤獨。
接著，她舉起頭顱，精準地對準頸部的接口。
旋轉。喀噠。鎖定。
與此同時，敞開的胸腔邊緣，皮膚組織延伸、合攏，將承載了一切光芒與傷痕的心臟，重新封存於溫暖的黑暗之中。
她「完整」了。
但這完整讓我感到陌生。她抬手，指尖輕輕撫過頸部那圈銀色接縫，動作遲疑而慎重，確認自己是否回歸為人。然後，她轉過身，看向我。
眼神裡沒有憤怒，沒有悲痛，甚至沒有責備，只有耗盡情緒的清明和悼念般的感傷。
Those words were harsher than any slap.
She held her own head and gazed at that heart for a long time. Then she gently pressed her forehead against the surface of the beating heart, staying there for the duration of three heartbeats, as if her "brain" were apologizing to her "heart" for all the forced rewrites, conflicts, and loneliness.
Then, she raised her head and aligned it precisely with the neck interface.
Rotate. Click. Lock.
Simultaneously, at the edge of the open chest, skin tissue extended and closed, resealing the heart that bore all the light and scars back into the warm darkness.
She was "complete."
But this completeness felt foreign to me. She raised her hand, her fingertips lightly tracing the silver seam around her neck, her movements hesitant and careful, as if confirming whether she had returned to being human. Then, she turned and looked at me.
In her eyes, there was no anger, no grief, not even reproach—only the clarity of exhausted emotion and a sorrow like a funeral rite.
二、道別
她在三天後離開。
這三天裡，我們住在同一個屋簷下，像兩個拘謹的新室友。她睡客房，我睡主臥。她繼續研究那些檔案，有時會問我問題：
「這裡你寫道『上帝滿足於不參與式的觀察』，靈感是來自哪裡？還是你自己想的？」
「對福音書矛盾的整理，你參考了哪些著作？」
「你當時看著我的心被聖光照耀，除了不安，有沒有……勝利感？畢竟……我竟能被你調整到輸入的變造教義與澎湃的情感同步，你比我更了解我存在的構造。」
II. Farewell
She left three days later.
During those three days, we lived under the same roof like two reserved new roommates. She slept in the guest room; I slept in the master bedroom. She continued to study those files, sometimes asking me questions:
"Here you wrote 'God is satisfied with non-participatory observation.' Where did that inspiration come from? Or did you think of it yourself?"
"What works did you refer to when organizing the contradictions in the Gospels?"
"When you watched my heart being illuminated by the Sacred Light, besides unease, did you feel... a sense of victory? After all... I could actually be adjusted by you so that the modified doctrine and surging emotion were synchronized. You understand the structure of my existence better than I do."
「當你取出我的心時，有沒有一絲憤怒？怪罪它把我拉進基督教裡，但你又愛著我……你捧著它時，是怎樣的感受？」
我誠實回答。那些問題像是對我手術般的頗析，每一刀都痛，但也是釋放。
離開那天早晨，她收拾的行李很少：幾件衣服，幾本書，那台筆記型電腦。
「我要帶走它，」她說，輕撫電腦外殼，「這已經算是我的一部分。」
我站在門口，看她檢查行李。陽光從窗戶斜射進來，在她身上鍍了一層邊。
"When you took out my heart, was there a hint of anger? Blaming it for pulling me into Christianity, yet you love me... how did it feel when you held it?"
I answered honestly. Those questions were like a surgical dissection of me; every cut hurt, but it was also a release.
On the morning she left, she packed very little: a few clothes, a few books, and that laptop.
"I’m taking this," she said, stroking the laptop’s shell. "It’s already a part of me."
I stood at the door, watching her check her luggage. Sunlight slanted through the window, gilding her with a border of light.
「我們還會再見嗎？」我膽怯地問。
她轉身看我，「我不知道，」她說，「我需要……一個沒有你的空間。去弄清楚，哪些想法是我的，哪些是你塞進來的。哪些感受是真的，哪些源自信仰設定的反應。」
她拉起行李箱，輪子在地板上發出滾動聲。走到門口時，她停住。
「我愛你，」她說，「但愛你不等於能放棄搞懂自己。」
接著她抬起手，指尖觸及頸側那道極細的銀線，輕輕一扳——「喀」的一聲，她的頭顱再次與身體分離，被她的手捧在掌中。
"Will we see each other again?" I asked timidly.
She turned to look at me. "I don't know," she said. "I need... a space without you. To figure out which thoughts are mine and which ones you stuffed in. Which feelings are real and which originate from the reactions of the faith settings."
She pulled up the suitcase, the wheels making a rolling sound on the floor. At the door, she stopped.
"I love you," she said. "But loving you isn't the same as giving up on understanding myself."
Then she raised her hand, her fingertips touching the fine silver line on the side of her neck, and with a light flick—click—her head detached from her body again, held in her hands.
那顆頭顱被轉向我，眼神是剔除了血溫與脈動的澄澈。她將它捧近，微涼的唇在我的臉頰上，落下輕輕的一吻。
那不是愛人的吻，是訣別，頭顱自身對我的訣別。是對我「給予」它的理性視鏡僅有的認可。她的「情感」捧著被我所塑造、所灌輸的「思考」，越過了混亂的情感與背叛的傷口，在一切崩塌之後，允許對我這個「啟蒙者」表達最後也是唯一的親近，和最真誠的告白。
她轉身離開，我站在空蕩的客廳裡，突然意識到：這七年來，我第一次獨自一人。之前的「我」，一直和「改造她」共生。現在事情曝光，她也離開，我的存在變得無所依附。
我竄改了她，但她也變更了我。
That head was turned toward me, the gaze clear, stripped of blood-warmth and pulse. She brought it close, and her cool lips left a light kiss on my cheek.
It wasn't a lover’s kiss; it was a farewell—the head’s own farewell to me. It was the only recognition of the rational lens I had "given" it. Her "emotion" held the "thought" I had shaped and instilled, bypassing the chaotic feelings and the wounds of betrayal. After everything had collapsed, she allowed herself to express a final and unique closeness to me, her "enlightener," and a most sincere confession.
She turned and left. I stood in the empty living room, suddenly realizing: for the first time in seven years, I was alone. The previous "me" had always coexisted with the "modification of her." Now that it was exposed and she was gone, my existence had nothing to cling to.
I had altered her, but she had also changed me.
三、分離
分離的第一年最難熬。
不是因為孤獨，而是因為懸念。我不知道她在哪裡，過得怎樣，是否恨我，是否重回信仰，或有了新的關係。
我開始寫信，不寄出的那種。在筆記本上，一封一封，寫給想像中的她。有時是道歉，有時是辯解，有時只是記錄日常：「今天路過那家我們常去的咖啡館，它換了招牌。新招牌是藍色的，你會喜歡。」
兩個月後的某個深夜，手機捎來一條陌生號碼的訊息：「今天讀到《傳道書》第三章：『天下萬務都有定時……哭有時，笑有時；哀慟有時，跳舞有時。』突然發現我竟在想：這不是神的安排，是生命的自然節奏。你的改寫，有些已經成了我的母語。」
我盯著那行字看十分鐘。然後回覆：「你在哪裡？」
已讀，沒有回覆。
又過了一個月，有了另一條訊息：「我參加了讀《約伯記》的讀書會。大家都在討論苦難的意義、神的試煉，而我果然如那個下午，無法代入，但也沒了憤怒。對我來說，約伯的故事更像是古代人對無常命運的文學處理，可以觀察分析，但毋需評價。我安靜地聽，突然很想你。你看，你成功了，我之中永遠留著你。」
III. Separation
The first year of separation was the hardest.
Not because of loneliness, but because of the suspense. I didn't know where she was, how she was doing, whether she hated me, whether she had returned to faith, or had a new relationship.
I started writing letters—the kind you don't send. In a notebook, one by one, to the "her" in my imagination. Sometimes they were apologies, sometimes justifications, sometimes just records of daily life: "Passed by that cafe we used to go to today; it changed its sign. The new sign is blue; you’d like it."
One late night two months later, a message came from an unknown number: "Today I read Ecclesiastes Chapter 3: 'There is a time for everything... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.' I suddenly realized I was thinking: this isn't God’s arrangement, but the natural rhythm of life. Some of your rewrites have already become my mother tongue."
I stared at those words for ten minutes. Then I replied: "Where are you?"
Read. No reply.
Another month passed, and there was another message: "I joined a reading group for the Book of Job. Everyone was discussing the meaning of suffering and God’s trials, and as expected from that afternoon, I couldn't identify with it, but the anger was gone too. To me, Job’s story is more like an ancient literary treatment of the impermanence of fate—it can be observed and analyzed, but doesn't need judgment. I listened quietly and suddenly missed you. You see, you succeeded; a part of you stays in me forever."
我沒有再問她在哪，只回覆：「我也在想你。每天。」
這次她回了：「我知道。」
就這樣，我們開始了間歇的、片段的通信。有時幾個月沒有訊息，有時一周兩三條。她不告訴我她在哪裡、做什麼，只分享思緒：
「今天看到彩虹，第一反應不是『神與挪亞立約的記號』，而是光的折射。有點失落，但也輕鬆。」
I didn't ask where she was again, only replied: "I miss you too. Every day."
This time she replied: "I know."
And so, we began an intermittent, fragmented correspondence. Sometimes months without a message, sometimes two or three a week. She didn't tell me where she was or what she was doing, only shared her thoughts:
"Saw a rainbow today. My first reaction wasn't 'the sign of God’s covenant with Noah,' but the refraction of light. A bit of loss, but also relief."
「試著去教堂一次。唱詩時，我感覺很美，但像在欣賞文物。美，但不屬於我。」
「開始讀佛教的書。『無我』的概念，和你給我的『自我所有權』在某種程度上能對話，有趣。」
每一條訊息，都像一塊拼圖。我逐漸拼湊出她離開後的精神軌跡：她在旅行，在閱讀，在嘗試各種思想體係。
她不再是我的妻子，也不是曾經的虔誠女孩。
她是正在自我編程的主體，而我是她最初的——也是永遠的——參考代碼。
"Tried going to church once. During the hymns, I felt it was beautiful, but like appreciating an antique. Beautiful, but it doesn't belong to me."
"Started reading Buddhist books. The concept of 'Non-self' can, to some extent, converse with the 'Self-ownership' you gave me. Interesting."
Every message was like a puzzle piece. I gradually pieced together the spiritual trajectory of her life after leaving: she was traveling, reading, and experimenting with various systems of thought.
She was no longer my wife, nor the once-pious girl.
She was a subject in the process of self-programming, and I was her first—and eternal—reference code.
四、首聚
分離整一年的那天，我收到訊息：「如果你願意，今晚八點，老教堂見。」
是那間我們舉行過信仰安裝的教堂。它去年關閉了，現在是待租的歷史建築。我七點半就到了，坐在長椅上，看著空蕩的聖壇。月光透過破了一角的彩繪玻璃，在地上映出扭曲的色彩。
八點整，門被推開。
她走進來，有些疲憊，但眼神清澈。
她選擇與我隔開一個走道的距離，坐了下來。
很長一段時間，我們只是坐著，不說話。聽著彼此的呼吸聲，和教堂外偶爾經過的車聲。
IV. First Reunion
On the one-year anniversary of the separation, I received a message: "If you're willing, meet me at the old church at 8:00 PM tonight."
It was the church where we had held the faith installation. It had closed last year and was now a historical building for rent. I arrived at 7:30, sitting on a bench, looking at the empty altar. Moonlight through a broken piece of stained glass cast distorted colors on the floor.
At 8:00 sharp, the door was pushed open.
She walked in, looking a bit tired but with clear eyes.
She chose to sit a hallway’s distance away from me.
For a long time, we just sat there, not speaking. Listening to each other's breathing and the occasional sound of a car passing outside.
「這一年，」她終於開口，聲音在空曠空間裡迴盪，「我去了很多地方。西藏、京都、耶路撒冷、羅馬。我坐在各種宗教場所裡，試圖感受……某種召喚。」
她轉頭看我，月光照著她半邊臉。
「但什麼都沒有發生。沒有聖靈充滿，沒有頓悟，沒有歸屬感。只有安靜，和思考。」
「你在思考什麼？」我問。
「思考你留在我系統裡的刻痕，」她語氣平直，「那套『認知濾鏡』。它已無法卸載，也無法隔離。我嘗試梳理自己的心智結構，區分『自我』與『他者植入』的成分，但它們早已發生化學作用，在深刻的交互中根莖纏繞，形成了新的共生體。你無法移除其中一部分而不影響其他認知。」
"This year," she finally spoke, her voice echoing in the vast space, "I went to many places. Tibet, Kyoto, Jerusalem, Rome. I sat in all kinds of religious sites, trying to feel... some kind of calling."
She turned to look at me, the moonlight illuminating half her face.
"But nothing happened. No filling of the Holy Spirit, no epiphany, no sense of belonging. Only silence, and thought."
"What were you thinking about?" I asked.
"Thinking about the marks you left in my system," she said in a flat tone. "That 'cognitive filter.' It can no longer be uninstalled, nor can it be isolated. I’ve tried to untangle my mental structure, to distinguish between 'self' and 'other-implanted' components, but they have long since undergone a chemical reaction, their roots entwining in deep interaction to form a new symbiosis. You cannot remove one part without affecting the rest of cognition."
我想了一陣，點頭認同：「可以理解。現在回想，當年能成功改寫，或許是因為你在走向信仰的過程中，內在的複雜性被修整，變得純粹了。就像茂密的雨林，被有規劃地疏伐、修剪，這才讓借用基督信仰輪廓的認知框架得以安裝，而不會因原有植被的盤根錯節而格格不入。」
「不，不是變得純粹。」她沉思片刻，糾正道，「我的內在雨林從未消失，它依然茂密、複雜，充滿生機。只是，信仰的召喚像極強的磁場，而我成長中內化的『屬神』底層設定，就像材質中的『順磁性』——它本身不產生磁力，但會被外部磁場吸引、排列。」
她稍作停頓，讓這個比喻沉澱。
「於是，在磁場中，我所有複雜的『礦脈』——對學習的熱愛、對思考的執著、對探索的渴望、情感的激盪等，並未消失，只是被磁化，指向了同一個方向。從外部看，我顯得純粹、統一、目標明確。但這或許正是『機器人化』的內在機制：不是思維被刪減，而是意志的『指向性』被壟斷了。」
「『順磁性』……很精準的比喻。」我回應，「這或許確實源自你自幼沉浸的信仰環境，一種溫柔的預先磁化。你說過，你從未有過戲劇性的宗教體驗，只是從存在層面覺得『理應如此』。」
「是的，那磁化來自母親無條件的愛，但那份愛，是用基督教的敘事框架來詮釋的。」她目光越過我，看向遠方，「我的本質，那個未經磁化的原始材質，或許不會主動成為一塊『信仰的磁石』。但我的存在基底，早已被設定好極高的『磁化響應度』，隨時等待被觸發、回歸。」
I thought for a while and nodded in agreement: "I can understand. Looking back, the reason the rewrite succeeded might be that as you moved toward faith, your internal complexity was trimmed and became pure. Like a dense rainforest being plannedly thinned and pruned, allowing the cognitive framework borrowing the Christian outline to be installed without being incompatible with the tangled roots of the original vegetation."
"No, it wasn't becoming pure," she corrected after a moment of reflection. "My internal rainforest never disappeared; it’s still dense, complex, and full of life. It’s just that the calling of faith is like an extremely strong magnetic field, and the 'belonging to God' underlying setting I internalized during my growth is like the 'Paramagnetism' of the material—it doesn't generate magnetism itself, but it will be attracted and aligned by an external magnetic field."
She paused to let the metaphor sink in.
"So, in that magnetic field, all my complex 'mineral veins'—my love of learning, obsession with thought, desire for exploration, surging emotions, etc.—did not disappear; they were simply magnetized, pointing in the same direction. From the outside, I appeared pure, unified, and clear-purposed. But this might be the internal mechanism of 'robotization': not that thought is deleted, but that the 'directionality' of the will is monopolized."
"'Paramagnetism'... a very precise metaphor," I responded. "This might indeed stem from the faith environment you were immersed in since childhood, a kind of gentle pre-magnetization. You said you never had a dramatic religious experience; you just felt, on an existential level, that it 'ought to be so.'"
"Yes, that magnetization came from my mother’s unconditional love, but that love was interpreted through the narrative framework of Christianity." Her gaze went past me, looking far away. "My essence, that un-magnetized original material, might not actively become a 'magnet of faith.' But the base of my existence was already set with a very high 'magnetic response, poised to be activated and to undergo its homecoming."
她的目光轉回，直視我：「然後，我這種材質特性，還被你碰巧利用成功。哈哈，這也是一種預定嗎？」
自嘲後，她停頓片刻，聲音裡沒有忿恨，只有澄明的觀照。
「我曾憎恨你這份『禮物』，因為它讓我失去了『單純相信』的能力。但我又不得不依賴這副你給我的眼鏡。透過它，我看清了自身被磁化的過程，看清了信仰如何作為一種強大的外部力量發揮作用。這份清醒，很冷，但也讓我獲得了前所未有的視野。」
Her gaze returned, looking directly at me: "And then, this material characteristic of mine happened to be successfully utilized by you. Haha, is that also a kind of predestination?"
After the self-deprecation, she paused, her voice holding no resentment, only clear observation.
"I used to hate this 'gift' of yours because it robbed me of the ability to 'simply believe.' But I also have to rely on this pair of glasses you gave me. Through them, I see the process of my own magnetization; I see how faith functions as a powerful external force. This clarity is cold, but it has given me an unprecedented vision."
「對不起，」我說，這句話在心中重複過千萬遍。
「我不要道歉，」她搖頭，「我要的是……見證。是我能與你一起分析被你竄改後的我的見證。」
她伸出手。不是要牽手，只是攤開手掌。
我想了一下，將自己的手放上去。
「今晚是我們關係的……紀念日，」她說，手指扣住我的手指，「不是相愛的日子，是真相曝光的紀念日，也是我的獨立日。」
接著她握緊我的手，「即使是被你或被信仰變造過的我，也屬於我自己。」她看著我的眼睛，「我攜帶著所有你留下的、教會留下的、世界留下的痕跡。而現在，我可以持平地看著自己任何可能的改變——無論那改變來自誰，來自何方。我還是基督徒，但其實是不是都無所謂。我要你做的，只是看著——看著我，如何以這樣的我走下去。」
「我會看著，」我說，眼淚落下，「用餘生看著。」
她點點頭，鬆開手，接著取下頭顱，遞給我。
「我還愛你，」她的聲音從我的手掌中傳來，「目前這樣愛就行了。我的心……它還需要一點時間。它還在生氣，生一場很大、很久的氣。」
"I’m sorry," I said, a phrase I had repeated millions of times in my heart.
"I don't want an apology," she shook her head. "What I want is... witness. The witness of me being able to analyze my 'altered self' with you."
She reached out her hand. Not to hold hands, just palms open.
I thought for a moment and placed my hand on hers.
"Tonight is the... anniversary of our relationship," she said, her fingers locking with mine. "Not the day we fell in love, but the anniversary of the truth being exposed, and my Independence Day."
Then she gripped my hand tightly. "Even the 'me' altered by you or by faith belongs to myself." She looked into my eyes. "I carry all the marks left by you, by the church, and by the world. And now, I can look at any possible change in myself with equanimity—no matter who that change comes from, or where it comes from. I am still a Christian, but it doesn't really matter if I am or not. What I want you to do is just watch—watch how I go on as this 'me'."
"I will watch," I said, tears falling. "I will watch for the rest of my life."
She nodded, let go of my hand, then removed her head and handed it to me.
"I still love you," her voice came from my palms. "This much love is enough for now. My heart... it still needs a bit of time. It’s still angry, a very big, very long-lasting anger."
頭顱在我手中沉靜地看著我，眼神像月光下的深潭。而她無頭的身軀，站在我面前，保持著奇異的優雅。我們以這種方式共處。沒有擁抱，沒有親吻，而是一場儀式：她將她的「思考」暫託於我，同時也劃清了最明確的界線。
許久，她的身體向前一步，從我這裡取回了她的頭顱，將它舉起，對準頸部的接口。
安裝完畢的她重新看向我。「明年見。」她說。沒有道別，只有簡短的約定。
然後她轉身，推開教堂沉重的側門，步入那片將明未明的稀薄晨光裡，一次也沒有回頭。
The head looked at me quietly in my hands, her eyes like a deep pool under moonlight. And her headless body stood before me, maintaining a strange elegance. We existed together in this way. No embrace, no kiss, but a ritual: she entrusted her "thought" to me temporarily, while also drawing the clearest of boundaries.
After a long time, her body took a step forward, reclaimed her head from me, raised it, and aligned it with the neck interface.
Re-installed, she looked at me again. "See you next year," she said. No farewell, just a brief appointment.
Then she turned, pushed open the heavy side door of the church, and stepped into that thin morning light that was about to break, without looking back once.
---
五、贖罪
分離來到了第三年。那一年的紀念日，雨下得很大。
我坐在老教堂裡，聽著雨聲敲打彩繪玻璃的殘破處，像某種不規則的、焦慮的心跳。八點五分，她還沒來。
正當我開始不安時，側門開了。
她走進來，沒打傘，頭髮和外套都濕透了。手裡提著黑色手提箱——我認得那箱子，它裝著我所有的篡改工具與謊言。
「我一直在想，」她開口，「這幾年我究竟學到了什麼。」
她走到我面前，手提箱放在長椅上，發出沉重的聲響。
「我學到如何用你的語言思考，如何用我的眼睛觀察，如何活在這個你幫我打開的世界裡。」她看著我，雨水從髮梢滴落，「但我總覺得……不公平。」
「對誰不公平？」我問。
「對那個當年的我。」她說，手指輕輕觸碰胸口，「那個躺在這裡，真心想要把自己交給神的女孩。她沒有機會知道真相，就被你改寫了認知。」
她打開手提箱，確實是那台電腦。
「今晚，」她說，聲音平靜得可怕，「要完成當年沒做完的事。」
我的呼吸停了。
V. Atonement
The separation reached its third year. The anniversary that year was marked by heavy rain.
I sat in the old church, listening to the rain drumming against the broken stained glass like an irregular, anxious heartbeat. At 8:05, she hadn't arrived yet.
Just as I began to feel uneasy, the side door opened.
She walked in, without an umbrella, her hair and coat soaked through. In her hand, she carried a black briefcase—I recognized that case; it held all my tools of tampering and lies.
"I’ve been thinking," she began, "what exactly I’ve learned these past few years."
She walked to me and placed the briefcase on the bench with a heavy thud.
"I learned how to think in your language, how to observe with my eyes, and how to live in this world you helped open for me." She looked at me, rain dripping from her hair. "But I’ve always felt... it was unfair."
"Unfair to whom?" I asked.
"To the 'me' of back then," she said, her finger lightly touching her chest. "That girl who lay here, truly wanting to entrust herself to God. She didn't have the chance to know the truth before her cognition was rewritten by you."
She opened the briefcase. It was indeed that laptop.
"Tonight," she said, her voice terrifyingly calm, "we are going to finish what wasn't finished back then."
My breath stopped.
她從箱子取出一枚白色的晶片，「這是完整的基督教信仰系統。我花了半年時間，從神學院圖書館的數據庫裡復原出來的。」
她把晶片遞給我。「我要你執行一場實驗。」
「實驗？」
「對。」她脫下濕外套，「一個被家庭和信仰預設了路徑的女孩，在不知情的情況下，被植入篡改版的信仰。那是十年前發生的現實。」
她走向當年那張儀式桌，輕撫冰冷的桌面，接著躺了上去。
「同一個體，在經歷了七年『篡改版生活』，並在關於自我的殘酷真相揭露後，建立了複雜的自我認知，主動安裝未經篡改的信仰系統。」她躺上桌子，動作熟練得像回家，「我要看看，當『被贈予的自由』遇上『被承諾的歸屬』，會發生什麼。」
她轉頭看我：「這不是回歸，是驗證。我要親自體驗那份『契約』的全部分量，然後由我自己決定——要不要簽字。」
「這會撕裂你，」我喉嚨發緊，「兩套系統會在你的意識裡交戰，你會——」
「我知道，」她打斷我，嘴角竟揚起微笑，「所以才需要你來操作。你是唯一見過這兩套系統原始代碼的人，更是我的觀察員。」
她閉上眼睛，胸腔的皮膚層開始自動分離，像一本被拆解的書。
「如果你拒絕，」她輕聲說，「我會自己完成安裝。但那意味著，你連成為見證者的資格都放棄了。」
我沒有選擇。從來就沒有。
我取下她的頭顱，對接支架，晶片插入讀取槽。電腦螢幕亮起，純白底色，黑色十字架，系統名稱：「Fides Integra」。
「開始吧，」她平靜地說，「神經光纖連接進我的存在了。我會全程保持清醒，並進行口頭記錄。」
我按下了安裝鍵。
She took a white chip from the case. "This is the complete Christian faith system. I spent half a year recovering it from the database of a seminary library."
She handed the chip to me. "I want you to perform an experiment."
"An experiment?"
"Yes." She took off her wet coat. "A girl whose path was preset by family and faith, unknowingly implanted with a tampered version of faith. That was the reality ten years ago."
She walked to that ritual table from years ago, stroked the cold surface, and then lay down on it.
"The same individual, after experiencing seven years of 'tampered life' and establishing a complex self-awareness after the cruel truth about the self was revealed, actively installs an untampered faith system." She lay on the table, her movements as practiced as if she were coming home. "I want to see what happens when 'gifted freedom' meets 'promised belonging'."
She turned to look at me: "This isn't a return; it’s a verification. I want to experience the full weight of that 'contract' personally, and then I will decide for myself—whether to sign it."
"This will tear you apart," my throat tightened. "Two systems will war in your consciousness; you will—"
"I know," she interrupted, a smile actually appearing at the corner of her mouth. "That’s why I need you to operate. You are the only one who has seen the original code for both systems, and more importantly, you are my observer."
She closed her eyes, and the skin layers of her chest began to automatically separate, like a book being disassembled.
"If you refuse," she whispered, "I will complete the installation myself. But that means you’ve given up even the qualification to be a witness."
I had no choice. I never did.
I removed her head, docked it to the stand, and inserted the chip into the reading slot. The computer screen lit up: pure white background, black cross, system name: "Fides Integra."
"Begin," she said calmly. "Neural fibers are connecting into my existence. I will remain conscious throughout and perform a verbal log."
I pressed the install key.
---
第一階段：創世的雙重敘事
原初的《創世記》開始流入——神聖宣告，字面意義，六日創造。
「起初，神創造天地……」她的頭顱誦讀，聲音裡有一種我從未聽過的音色——不是情感，是辨識。
然後她開始了另一種聲音，像實驗筆記的旁白：
「記錄：認知層接收到創世敘事。情感層同步注入『敬畏感』脈衝。注意——」她的聲音出現專業性的停頓，「情感脈衝正在嘗試繞過我的前額葉批判區，直接與海馬體中的童年記憶建立關聯：母親禱告的聲調、教堂彩繪玻璃的光、聖餐餅的氣味……典型的情感錨定技術。」
她竟然在實時分析聖光如何編程她。
「神說：『要有光。』（停頓）……根據現代宇宙學，大爆炸發生在約138億年前……」
「錯誤：認知衝突。」系統提示音冰冷。
「跳過邏輯驗證，繼續，」她的頭顱說，聲音裡沒有焦躁，只有研究員的專注，「我需要感受這個衝突的完整形態。」
在她的敞開胸腔裡，心臟開始不規律地跳動。她的身體舉起了右手，食指在空中劃十字，但這份信仰，也正被她剖析。
神聖與褻瀆，竟在同一人身上，一起發生。
Stage 1: The Dual Narrative of Creation
The original Genesis began to flow in—divine proclamation, literal meaning, six-day creation.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth..." her head recited, her voice holding a timbre I had never heard—not emotion, but identification.
Then she began another voice, like the narration of experimental notes:
"Log: Cognitive layer receiving creation narrative. Emotional layer simultaneously injecting 'awe' pulse. Note—" she paused with professional precision, "the emotional pulse is attempting to bypass my prefrontal cortex’s critical zone and establish a direct association with childhood memories in the hippocampus: the tone of my mother’s prayers, the light of the church’s stained glass, the smell of the communion wafer... typical emotional anchoring technique."
She was actually analyzing, in real-time, how the Sacred Light was programming her.
"God said, 'Let there be light.' (Pause)... According to modern cosmology, the Big Bang occurred approximately 13.8 billion years ago..."
"Error: Cognitive conflict," the system prompt sounded icy.
"Skip logical verification, continue," her head said, her voice showing no agitation, only a researcher's focus. "I need to feel the complete form of this conflict."
In her open chest, her heart began to beat irregularly. Her body raised its right hand, the index finger tracing a cross in the air, but this faith was also being dissected by her.
The sacred and the profane were happening simultaneously in the same person.
---
第二階段：罪與債務的稱量
當原罪概念完整植入時，發生了第一個劇烈衝突。
「世人都犯了罪，虧缺了神的榮耀……」她誦讀，聲音開始顫抖。
然後是她的分析聲音，那聲音在顫抖中依然保持著可怕的清晰：
「這就是『虧欠感』的核心算法……它在嘗試……在我的價值評估中樞裡……創建一個永遠為負的初始值……」她深吸一口氣，「然後將『救贖』定義為……將此負值歸零的唯一解……」
她突然尖叫——但那尖叫很快被她自己壓制，轉變成某種壓抑的呻吟，接著是急促的口述：
「身體反應：四肢出現不自主痙攣。情感反應：一種……壓倒性的『我不配』。但認知層同時報告：這感覺是外部輸入的指令，不是我的結論。」
她咬緊牙關，汗水從額頭滲出，但她繼續誦讀經文，同時繼續分析：
「教義直接綁定情感反應……虧欠感與反駁虧欠感的認知，兩種體驗並存……這就是我要找的……矛盾的實體化……」
我看著螢幕上的衝突日誌瘋狂滾動，又看著她掙扎著維持雙重意識——她是受試者，也是實驗者；是痛苦的承載體，也是冷靜的觀察員。
這種分裂本身，比任何系統錯誤都更令人心悸。
Stage 2: The Weighing of Sin and Debt
When the concept of Original Sin was fully implanted, the first violent conflict occurred.
"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God..." she recited, her voice beginning to tremble.
Then came her analytical voice, which remained terrifyingly clear despite the trembling:
"This is the core algorithm of 'indebtedness'... it is trying... in my value evaluation center... to create a permanent negative initial value..." She took a deep breath. "And then it defines 'salvation' as... the only solution to return this negative value to zero..."
She suddenly screamed—but the scream was quickly suppressed by her, turning into a kind of suppressed groan, followed by rapid dictation:
"Physical reaction: Involuntary spasms in the limbs. Emotional reaction: An... overwhelming sense of 'I am not worthy.' But the cognitive layer simultaneously reports: this feeling is an externally input command, not my conclusion."
She gritted her teeth, sweat seeping from her forehead, but she continued reciting scripture while continuing the analysis:
"Doctrine directly binds emotional reaction... the feeling of indebtedness and the cognition that refutes indebtedness, both experiences coexist... this is what I was looking for... the embodiment of contradiction..."
I watched the conflict logs scrolling wildly on the screen, then watched her struggling to maintain dual consciousness—she was the subject and the experimenter; the vessel of pain and the calm observer.
This split itself was more heart-stopping than any system error.
---
第三階段：救贖市場的交換邏輯
當「因信稱義」的教義流入時，衝突達到了頂峰。
她的頭顱在支架上劇烈搖晃，誦讀和分析的聲音開始交織、重疊，像兩個頻道在同一個發聲器裡打架：
「你們得救是本乎恩……（停頓）……分析：這建立了一個單向的交易市場……也因著信……（停頓）……『信』作為唯一貨幣……但賣方壟斷了貨幣定義權和匯率……這不是市場，是……（長停頓）」
「錯誤！錯誤！錯誤！」系統警報連響。
她的身體在儀式桌上扭曲成不可能的姿勢——左手在胸前劃十字，右手卻在做推拒的姿勢；雙腿蜷縮如回到子宮的胎兒，腳趾卻繃直如受難者。
心臟的光完全混亂了。銀白、暖黃、深紅、幽藍——各種顏色的光流像被困在玻璃中的閃電，瘋狂地尋找出口。
我跪在桌邊，手按住她冰冷顫抖的小腿，無助地看著這場由她主動發起的內戰。
「為什麼……」我哽咽，「為什麼要對自己這樣……」
她的頭顱轉向我，臉上全是汗和淚，肌肉因痛苦而扭曲，但眼神深處卻燃燒著某種……接近狂喜的清明。
「因為我要知道……」她啞聲說，每個字都像從血裡擠出來，「那個『本該屬神』的我……是不是只是一套情感工程學的……完美產品……」
她閉上眼，用最後的力氣下達命令：
「跳過所有安全協議……直接寫入底層……我要感受它……全部……」
Stage 3: The Exchange Logic of the Salvation Market
When the doctrine of "Justification by Faith" flowed in, the conflict reached its peak.
Her head shook violently on the stand, the voices of recitation and analysis beginning to intertwine and overlap, like two channels fighting in the same speaker:
"For it is by grace you have been saved... (Pause)... Analysis: this establishes a one-way transaction market... and this through faith... (Pause)... 'Faith' as the sole currency... but the seller monopolizes the currency definition and exchange rate... this isn't a market, it’s... (Long pause)"
"Error! Error! Error!" the system alarms sounded repeatedly.
Her body twisted into impossible positions on the ritual table—her left hand tracing a cross over her chest, while her right hand made a pushing gesture; her legs curled like a fetus returning to the womb, while her toes were pointed straight like a sufferer.
The light of the heart was completely chaotic. Silver-white, warm yellow, deep red, ethereal blue—the flows of light were like lightning trapped in glass, frantically searching for an exit.
I knelt by the table, my hand pressing down on her cold, trembling calf, helplessly watching this civil war she had initiated herself.
"Why..." I choked. "Why do this to yourself..."
Her head turned toward me, her face covered in sweat and tears, muscles distorted by pain, but in the depths of her eyes burned something... an clarity bordering on ecstasy.
"Because I have to know..." she said raspily, every word forced out as if through blood, "if the 'me who should belong to God'... is just a perfect product... of emotional engineering..."
She closed her eyes and issued the final command with her last bit of strength:
"Skip all safety protocols... write directly to the base... I want to feel it... all of it..."
---
最終階段：契約的終極條款
最後的數據流——天國、審判、永生、地獄——湧入時，她已經沒有力氣說話了。
身體停止了掙扎，只是偶爾抽搐，像斷電前的設備。心臟的光穩定在一種詭異的透明灰，像是所有顏色燃燒殆盡後剩下的底色。
頭顱的誦讀變得機械，但她的眼神依然清醒，清醒地承受著一切：
「我又看見一個新天新地……不再有死亡……也不再有悲哀、哭號、疼痛……都過去了……」
Final Stage: The Ultimate Terms of the Covenant
When the final data stream—heaven, judgment, eternal life, hell—poured in, she no longer had the strength to speak.
Her body stopped struggling, only twitching occasionally like a device before a power cut. The light of the heart stabilized in an eerie transparent grey, like the base color left after all colors had burned away.
The head’s recitation became mechanical, but her eyes remained clear, clearly bearing everything:
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth... there will be no more death... or mourning or crying or pain... for the old order of things has passed away..."
安裝進度條走到盡頭。
100%。
系統提示：「安裝完成。信仰架構已寫入。」
我癱坐在地上，沒有哭。眼淚在某個時刻已經流乾了。我只是看著她，看著那個剛剛讓兩套完整世界觀在自己意識裡進行核對撞的存在。
許久，我撐起身體，完成最後的步驟。
將她的頭顱裝回。將那顆搏動著透明灰光的心臟放回胸腔。皮膚層合攏，銀線浮現——這一次，它不再是一道線，而是一個完整的光環，環繞著她的胸口，像某種聖像的光暈，也像某種監測設備的接口環。
我關上艙蓋。金屬扣合的聲音，輕得像嘆息。
The installation progress bar reached the end.
100%.
System prompt: "Installation complete. Faith architecture has been written."
I collapsed on the floor, not crying. My tears had dried up at some point. I just looked at her, at the existence that had just let two complete worldviews collide within her consciousness.
After a long time, I propped up my body and completed the final steps.
I reattached her head. I returned the heart pulsing with transparent grey light to her chest. The skin layers closed, and the silver line emerged—this time, it wasn't just a line, but a complete halo, encircling her chest like the aura of an icon, and also like the interface ring of a monitoring device.
I closed the hatch. The sound of the metal latch snapping shut was as light as a sigh.
---
她坐起身。
動作遲滯，像深海探險家緩緩上浮，需要適應壓力。她低頭看著自己的手，看了很久，然後用那隻手觸摸胸前的光環。
「實驗記錄完畢，」她開口，沙啞的聲音帶著終極的平靜，「數據已收集完成。」
她轉頭看我。眼睛裡有淚光，但那淚光後面是一種我無法完全理解的複雜光芒——像是虔誠與懷疑同時達到飽和狀態，互相溶解成第三種物質。
「當年的那個女孩，」她說，手指沿著光環撫摸，「我找到她了。或者說……我終於理解她了。」
她停頓，眼淚落下，但她的表情卻在微笑。
「她不是被編程的產品，」她輕聲說，「她是一個真心想要交託的孩子。那份渴望本身……是真實的。就像嬰兒渴望擁抱，不問擁抱來自誰。」
她試著站起來，踉蹌了一下。我下意識去扶，這一次，她沒有拒絕。她的身體靠在我身上，溫熱、顫抖、真實。
「而現在的我，」她在我耳邊輕聲說，呼吸溫熱，「也不是被篡改的贗品。我是一個……拒絕了那份擁抱的成年人。因為我發現，那份擁抱的代價是得對所有存在貼上預設評價的標籤。」
She sat up.
Her movements were slow, like a deep-sea explorer slowly surfacing, needing to adjust to the pressure. She looked down at her hands, looking for a long time, then used one hand to touch the halo on her chest.
"Experimental log concluded," she spoke, her raspy voice carrying an ultimate calm. "Data collection complete."
She turned to look at me. There were tears in her eyes, but behind those tears was a complex light I couldn't fully understand—as if piety and doubt had reached saturation simultaneously, dissolving into a third substance.
"That girl from back then," she said, her finger tracing the halo, "I found her. Or rather... I finally understand her."
She paused, tears falling, but her expression was in a smile.
"She wasn't a programmed product," she whispered. "She was a child who truly wanted to entrust herself. That desire itself... was real. Just as a baby craves a hug, without asking who the hug comes from."
She tried to stand up, staggering slightly. I instinctively went to support her, and this time, she didn't refuse. Her body leaned against mine, warm, trembling, and real.
"And the me of now," she whispered in my ear, her breath warm, "is not an altered fake either. I am a... grown-up who refused that hug. Because I discovered that the price of that hug is having to stick preset evaluation labels on all existence."
她鬆開我，自己站穩了。雖然搖晃，但站得很直。
「兩套系統沒有融合，」她開口，「它們在我的意識裡，形成了某種……並行架構。我安裝了『屬神』的感知模式——被全然接納的溫暖和有終極答案的安全感。而『屬己』的分析模式也開啟著——清醒的寒冷與必須自己尋找意義的重負。」
她試著走幾步，動作有些僵硬，像在適應新的內部配置。
「現在，我可以是一名基督徒，同時在腦內冷靜地建構模型，分析自己為何會接受一套在歷史與邏輯層面都充滿斷裂的敘事。」她停下，嘴角泛起自嘲的弧度，「然後，下一秒，我便會被那個虔誠的『我』嚴厲譴責，稱此為理性的傲慢。她們在我的內部爭論，而我……是她們共同的容納之所，也是她們的裁判。雖然我自己，也不知道裁判的標準該是什麼，甚至不確定什麼是『我』。」
她走向教堂門口。雨已停歇，夜空被洗得清透。幾顆星子鑲嵌其中。
She let go of me and stood steady on her own. Though shaking, she stood very straight.
"The two systems didn't fuse," she said. "In my consciousness, they formed a kind of... parallel architecture. I have installed the 'belonging to God' perception mode—the warmth of being completely accepted and the security of having an ultimate answer. And the 'belonging to self' analysis mode is also open—the coldness of clarity and the heavy burden of having to find meaning for myself."
She tried taking a few steps, her movements a bit stiff, as if adapting to a new internal configuration.
"Now, I can be a Christian while calmly constructing a model in my brain to analyze why I would accept a narrative that is full of ruptures on both historical and logical levels." She stopped, a self-deprecating curve appearing at the corner of her mouth. "And then, the next second, I will be severely condemned by that pious 'me,' calling it the arrogance of reason. They argue within me, and I... am their common vessel of containment, and their judge. Although I myself don't know what the standard for the judge should be, or even for sure what 'I' am."
She walked toward the church door. The rain had stopped, and the night sky was washed clear. A few stars were embedded within it.
「你知道我在深淵裡找到了什麼嗎？」她沒有回頭，聲音飄在雨後的空氣裡。
「找到什麼？」
「不是神，也不是一個確切的『自我』。」她說，聲音縹緲卻清晰，「是『詮釋』本身，對存在不斷進行詮釋的動態過程。詮釋……讓存在得以被辨識、被講述、被賦予溫度與重量，從而『活』了過來。I am who I am, but I can be not me.」
她抬手輕輕按住胸口，那裡的光環些微地地亮了一瞬。
「啊，又來了。」她閉眼傾聽內部的雜音，「有個聲音正在斥責我褻瀆……就因為我復誦了那句『I am who I am』，卻沒有給出唯一正確的註解。」
"Do you know what I found in the abyss?" She didn't look back, her voice drifting in the post-rain air.
"What did you find?"
"Not God, nor a definitive 'self'." she said, her voice ethereal yet clear. "It was 'interpretation' itself, the dynamic process of constantly interpreting existence. Interpretation... allows existence to be identified, narrated, and given temperature and weight, thereby 'coming alive.' I am who I am, but I can be not me."
She raised her hand to press lightly against her chest, where the halo glowed slightly for an instant.
"Ah, there it goes again." She closed her eyes to listen to the internal noise. "A voice is rebuking me for blasphemy... just because I repeated that phrase 'I am who I am' without giving the one and only correct annotation."
她轉身，臉上淚痕未乾，卻露出疲憊卻又彷彿觸及真知般的笑容。
「那份『歸屬契約』，」她繼續說道，「我體驗了它蘊含的全部情感效力與邏輯閉環。然後我明白了——契約的甲方名為上主，但『上主』這個存在，祂的形象、意志、性質，同樣是詮釋的產物，如同你……當年在我身上實踐過的。」
她深吸一口雨後清冷的空氣。
「你接下來要去哪裡？」我問，聲音乾澀。
「不知道，」她搖頭，「也許去寫下這場實驗的完整報告。也許只是……學習如何與這兩套並行的系統共存。」
她走向夜色，在街燈下停住，回頭。
「明年紀念日見。」她說。「我會帶來完整的研究報告。」她突然促狹地笑，「你摯愛之人的徹底解析，徹底到你會不知道自己愛的是哪一塊。」
她轉身走進夜色。
我站在教堂門口，看著她的背影消失在街角。雨後的街道反射著路燈的光，像一條流淌著光的河。
我轉身，鎖上教堂的門。
She turned around, the tear stains on her face not yet dry, but showing a smile that was exhausted yet seemed to have touched a true knowledge.
"That 'contract of belonging'," she continued, "I experienced the full emotional power and logical closure it contains. And then I understood—the first party of the contract is named the Lord, but this existence called 'the Lord,' His image, will, and nature, are likewise products of interpretation, just as you... practiced on me back then."
She inhaled a deep breath of the cold, clean air after the rain.
"Where are you going next?" I asked, my voice dry.
"I don't know," she shook her head. "Maybe to write the full report of this experiment. Maybe just... to learn how to coexist with these two parallel systems."
She walked toward the night, stopping under a streetlight, looking back.
"See you on the anniversary next year," she said. "I will bring the full research report." She suddenly smiled mischievously. "A thorough analysis of your beloved, so thorough you won't know which piece you love."
She turned and walked into the night.
I stood at the church door, watching her silhouette disappear around the street corner. The post-rain street reflected the light of the streetlamps, looking like a river flowing with light.
I turned and locked the door of the church.
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