As Ayin had expected, he and Garion didn't speak again for a long time. Though there was no true anger between the two of them, he had no doubt resentment still existed to some extent, buried deep under time, making it difficult to initiate interactions.
Garion thankfully kept to the rules he had set, not disturbing the script and continuing to carry out her duties in the extraction department. It was the expected outcome of the freedom he had allowed her, yet it still felt strange to watch the Arbiter silently wander the facility after work hours, avoiding the other Sephirot while staring into nothing every now and then.
Some employees attempted to speak with her. Most were ignored, the few who weren't usually scurried off after just a few minutes of talking to her. Agents who no longer flinched at the breach of an ALEPH ran from Garion as though they had met death itself.
He didn't blame them. It wasn't cowardice, simply the self preservation instincts ingrained in all humans at work.
He would've been content with letting her be were he not on a self imposed clock. The facility needed to move forward, the script needed to be completed, Garion needed to play her part.
That's the justification he made for himself as he approached the person in question in the welfare department.
Locating her was easy, she had a set path she followed each day, carefully planned so as to avoid the sephirot. Every single loop she retraced the steps of the previous one, step for step, second for second.
She stopped at the exact same moments to stare at the exact same spots, speaking to the same employees with the same words.
Every. single. time.
Had he not known better, he'd have thought her memories were getting reset by TT2.
"What are you doing?" He asked. Garion was staring into an abnormality containment unit, the one she stares into on the thirty eight day two hours and seven minutes after the workday is completed.
A glance over her shoulders revealed Judgement Bird within.
"Concepts of humanity, pulled up from our collective consciousness. That's what the abnormalities are." She began to speak, in a slow formal tone that made her sound far older than her appearance would suggest.
He did his best to ignore the underlying edge behind the words, carrying with it an unspoken threat that would not be acted upon. A reminder of her power as an Arbiter, however restricted it may be by the measures he had put in place so long ago.
"Contained within these halls is a microcosm of our world. Humanity in its purest form, forcefully removed from their hosts and exploited for a goal that sits far beyond the horizon." A smile that had scared off many of his agents spread across her face just for a moment. It disappeared as quickly as it came.
"For us, humanity is a tool to be created, used and disposed of at will. Yet among them exist ones that have emerged on their own, concepts too powerful to not exist. An artesian spring that has no need for a bucket or a well."
Ayin suddenly understood the point of her long winded speech. Concepts too powerful to not exist, those that naturally manifested with no influence from their singularity.
He could count such manifestations on one hand, one of them currently contained in front of him. The three of them represented…
Narrowed eyes, furrowed brows. "What are you trying to say?"
It was a rhetorical question, they both knew what she meant.
Garion turns to leave. "Who knows?～ 'One's eye never faces inward, it only ever sees what's in front of it'."
Ayin let out a sigh of exasperation the moment she was out of sight. After just two conversations, he was beginning to tire of her words and the roundabout manner in which they were delivered, even if he was somewhat enabling it.
He got the feeling he'd have to get used to it soon enough, the script demanded it.
Garion felt a tinge of annoyance when her day was interrupted for the second time. It was a reminder of those who attempted to change something, of those below who clawed at an insurmountable wall till their last breath in an attempt at breaking a cycle.
It was futile, all of them.
Sitting across the hallway was the copy of Carmen, fixing a terminal that had the stain she stared at this day. Its hands moved with unnatural grace, no doubt practiced from the millions of times it's done it before.
She decided she'd wait for it to finish; it likely wouldn't take long due to the sheer efficiency with which it worked. The copy certainly knew of her presence but made no attempt at speaking to her.
Garion observed silently, making note of every little bit of the copy's appearance. From her light blue hair to her closed eyes, all of it was imprinted into her memory, to be remembered and forgotten at a later date.
So this is what her companion in hell once looked like, quite different from the image she had in her head. She had expected the opposite of Ayin, an idealist and a weakling, incapable of bearing the weight of existence.
Instead it was a distorted mirror of him. So similar, yet so different. How strange indeed.
It got up after a minute of tinkering, carefully dusting off her lab coat as though it was dirtied somehow, which it clearly wasn't. It turned to her before bowing.
"Excuse me for the wait, Miss Garion." It spoke with an even tone, yet the undercurrent below couldn't escape the ears of an arbiter.
A search for meaning? An unearthed desire to live? A yearning for love?
Perhaps she heard all of it, perhaps she heard some, perhaps he heard none. Garion couldn't tell, her senses dulled by the millennia.
She finally spoke just as it was about the leave.
"Tell me, who do you think Carmen was?"
She received another question in return. "...Who is Carmen?"
Emotions surfaced. Garion's eyes widened, just for a moment, before settling into a small grin, how amusing～.
"I see…tell me then, who do you think Ayin is?" There was a lull, it probably didn't know the answer itself.
"He's my creator, the manager of this facility, and the project at large."
Garion prodded further "And…?"
"That is his self-designated role, there's nothing more to mention."
She couldn't hide her disappointment at the answer. She had hoped to gain a glimpse into his mind through a being that resembled him so closely, but no such luck. It seemed that its close eyes were more than just a choice of appearance, it truly was blind to the world around it.
She didn't dignify it with further conversation, instead turning to complete her routine for the day. It also left soon afterwards.
The stain in a hallway of Central command that appeared on day thirty-eight every loop without fail. She made time to observe it every single time, in the hopes of one day grasping the strange imagery that prods the back of her mind when she gazes upon it.
It vaguely resembles the figure of a female human, arms crossed low with the hexagonal lines of the floor running below it. Were she to stop gazing so intently, she'd see a figure of gold and black with ten rings adorning their fingers.
They spoke far too much, no matter the situation at hand. A mark of their youth, an arrogance she herself once held in her power as an arbiter.
A blink, and it was gone. All that remained was a stain on the ground.
She'll come back a reset later, and perhaps see the figure once again.
And again.
And again.
And perhaps, one day, she'll be able to remember the face of Zena.
was a sunny day like any other, the two of them basking in the light as they laid among a thousand flowers that lit up their surroundings almost as much as she lit up his life.
Carmen was silent today, not speaking a word as she stared at the blue sky above.
The silence wasn't particularly out of the ordinary, sometimes they'd simply lie here and let the hours pass them by without a care in the world. He never knew what she thought during these periods, but he hoped they were bright.
"..."
Alas, it appeared as though today wasn't one of total silence.
"I have something I should confess…I'm much weaker than everyone seems to think I am." Ayin turned on his side to stare at Carmen, giving her words his full attention.
"I always say things like 'Count on me!' but…never do I truly know what I should be doing. Even if I do, I'm often too weak to go through with it, and if anyone were to get hurt because of me, I know I'd hate myself." She continued to gaze upon the sky as she spoke those words. Very rarely does Carmen allow herself to be so vulnerable, it was perhaps only the third or fourth time he's heard her voice so weak.
"That's why I need to ask you for a favor." She also turned on her side to stare back at him. He'd probably have made note of how close they were if the current topic of conversation wasn't so serious.
"No matter what I may become, please finish what I started. I'm weak, like everyone else, but…I know you'll endure through it." Ayin's eyes slightly widened at the praise…and the implication.
"There is only one way forward." She held out her pinky. It was a childish gesture, but it somehow felt fitting coming from her.
He took it. "...I promise. No matter what, I'll see it through to the very end."
"CARMEN, CARMEN ANSWER ME!" He only heard the sound of running water and shallow breathing. No voice was heard beyond the door.
Kicking and hitting bore no fruit. Thinking quickly, he drew the pistol on his waist and fired at the lock.
The door creaked open and…
Carmen laid in a bath, the now crimson water beginning to overflow. He quickly dragged her out, her wrist was cut open in a dozen different places, all bleeding quickly.
He made note of his quickening breath.
He made note of the tears beginning to flow from his eyes.
He made note of the fact that she was still alive.
Anything, anything that could distract his mind from the question resounding throughout his being.
'Why?'
Of course he knew why, he's known for a long time. He simply didn't wish to see it.
A broken whisper he heard over the sound of water.
"...I...
...I want...
...to live..."
'I'm often too weak to go through with it—'
'No matter what I may become, please finish what I started—'
'I promise—'
"...!" The K Corp serum! They had a single dose in case of emergency. He could use it to…
'I promise—'
She'll be fine, he could speak with her after it was all over. She'll be fine.
'I promise—'
The project clearly wasn't working out, no one would truly blame Carmen. It simply wasn't feasible in the first place.
'I promise—'
They could sell their current research, then she and he could—
'I PrOmisE—'
"Ayin! You need rest, it's not okay to keep going like this!" Benjamin yelled out in worry and anger. Ayin made note of the fact that it was one of the few times he's heard Benjamin truly enraged.
"Benjamin, hand me the tablet." He replied, referring to the one lying on a table among hundreds of notes and observations.
His assistant ignored his request. "Listen to me! I know things have been difficult but you can't just cut us all off like this and bury yourself in work. Kali's trying her best to hold everyone together, but she's barely staying composed as is."
He placed a hand upon Ayin's shoulder. His mentor pushed it away as he went to grab the tablet himself.
Benjamin's voice softened, almost sounding broken. "...Please. At least allow yourself to grieve."
A hundred emotions raged within his heart, he allowed not a single one to surface.
"I have nothing to grieve for."
His voice wasn't emotional, yet it wasn't dead. It was simply neutral, uncaring, as though what he had just said was an obvious statement of fact.
He ignored the expression of rage that crossed Benjamin's face. He had work to do.
He ignored how his friend loudly slammed the door as he left. He had work to do.
He ignored the hole he felt in his chest. He had work to do.
Ayin probed through the Arbiter's brain, recording every last bit of information stored within. Secrets of the head, kept hidden for centuries unearthed as he looked through the memories of the first arbiter to have fallen in battle for a long time, perhaps ever.
"...Benjamin, hand me the tablet."
"..."
"..."
Benjamin finally spoke. "Kali's corpse is right outside these doors."
Ayin went to grab the tablet himself instead.
"Daniel is still lying across the hallway covered in his own blood."
He noted down an observation, a clear blindspot in the gaze of Beholders.
"Everyone who believed in the project, our dear friends who stood with us all this time died mere moments ago."
It could be used to avoid the head, they could be the first to oppose them.
"... Will…will you still not allow yourself to grieve?" Ayin made note of the fact that his assistant was crying. It seemed he wouldn't be of use today.
"I have nothing to grieve for."
His voice wasn't emotional, yet it wasn't dead. It was simply neutral, uncaring, as though what he had just said was an obvious statement of fact. He didn't even turn around to look at his assistant as he said it.
Something hit the back of his head. It was Benjamin's I.D.
"I resign!" He stormed out a moment later.
He ignored how quiet it was to be all alone. He had work to do.
He ignored the thousands of emotions raging throughout his being. He had work to do.
He ignored the irrational grief that had settled into his heart long ago. He had work to do.
He needed to maintain rationality at all times.
The project needed to be completed.
.
.
.
.
.
The theory of cogito was completed, the scientists have done their job.
The arbiter was subdued, the head could now be dealt with, the fixer has done her job.
He could continue on by himself, his assistant wasn't needed.
Through his eyes that saw the long path ahead, with not a single thing obscuring his sight, he had rationally come to the conclusion that there was no need for grief.
Thus, there was nothing to grieve for.
Ayin opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep on his desk once again.
He buried his face into the pillow that had found itself beneath his head, no doubt courtesy of the A.I that stood just a few meters away.
He and Garion had settled into an unsteady ritual. She'd complete her routine each and every day, he'd occasionally approach her in an attempt to break the ice between them.
She took every opportunity to get in under his skin, her being of the few who knew of his past putting her in a uniquely powerful position to do so. Her words cut deep; with each roundabout speech she unearthed memories from long ago, buried under the eternal passage of time.
He had been mostly ignoring it, though it appeared his subconscious hadn't. It's been a long time since he's…
He made note of the silent concern Angela displayed, it was quite rare for his thoughts to spiral this badly.
He should try to be more rational.
"..."
"..."
He silently stared at Angela, detailing within his mind every strand of hair, every wrinkle of cloth. Truly, she had ruined everything, destroying what little rationality he had remaining ever since that day.
If only he had the rationality to abandon Angela, as he had abandoned Carmen.
If only he had the rationality to carry out his plan to the fullest.
He made no note of the hatred that flooded his heart at the thought.
Water boiled and steam rose across his face as he shoveled sugar into two cups. He didn't know when he had left to brew tea, he supposed it didn't really matter.
Angela was still standing in her spot when he returned, she took a seat as he placed a cup for each of them. His body relaxed at the familiar sensation and the rhythmic sound of sipping, even if his mind failed to follow suit.
Angela's voice rang out as he got up to leave the office. "Manager?"
It seemed like she was still worried about him. It only served to make him feel worse.
"Don't worry about me, I need to do something in the extraction department." He assured her, she nodded a few seconds later.
He needed to see an old friend. It was about time.