— Hiyajo? What are you doing?
— I told you. It's easy to be deluded. Make no mistake... This right here is Amadeus. Not Makise Kurisu.
— That's...
— Makise Kurisu is dead. Dead. She's not here anymore.
No future awaits those who refuse to take action.
— Why are you so vocal with me when you could hardly pipe up at your group date?
— H-How did you...?!
— You're the one that forgot to close the app. I was listening in the background the whole time. It was so hard not to crack up. Your one-liners were atrocious. Who runs away when the dating games start? You totally ruined truth or dare.
— Wait a second... When we meet Hiyajo and the professor, will you be giving them your logs?
— Of course, and everything I heard will be included too.
— Anyways, you're Okabe Rintaro from another worldline. There's nothing more to say. Go back.
— I did that to you... I took the you who loved me and made you disappear... And yet... And yet... You're telling me to kill you again? I can't... I can't do it...
It's a pleasure to meet you, Ladies and Gentlemen. I am Hiyajo Maho. More specifically, my existence stems from hers as of 78 hours and 22 minutes in the past. In other words, I operate based on Hiyajo Maho's memories from roughly four days ago. I noticed somebody scoffing in the fifth row. Yes, you wearing red checkers. I can guess what you're thinking. If I were pre-programmed ahead of time, these sorts of responses would be nothing special. Or perhaps... Could the me over there be controlling all of my actions with the computer? But the majority of you are probably thinking this: That preserving memories as data is an impossible feat. Though, in that case... If that were true, what does that make me?
But, make one wrong move and you'd be disgracing the dead.