Garion walked back to her department, her legs moving slightly faster than usual. It was a tiny difference, noticeable to none but herself, the one that knew Garion best.
That notion now felt hollow.
'You already know this, don't you?'
He had said little during that conversation, yet his words cut deeper than any other. It felt as though she had become a part of his beloved script, dancing to his tune and walking a path set long before. From the moment of the copy's entrance to the words Garion herself had spoken, all of it had been anticipated.
She should've realized the moment she saw a cup of tea poured seconds before her entrance.
"Good evening." Garion turned to see a rectangular robotic body, a mug held in its hands with the words 'Chesed' written below its eyes.
"I would say it's good to see you, but that would hardly be the truth now would it?〜" His voice was relaxed, composed.
She ignored the robot, instead attempting to enter the hallway that would lead to the disciplinary department. He stopped her, standing in her path just as he had done so long ago.
"Now why would the head of welfare be in central command?" She asked.
"An employee of mine is mourning a loved one, they need space to grieve. I'm ensuring that no one interrupts." There was bitterness in his voice, even if it remained relaxed.
"Open the door." There was a finality in her words, a command rather than a request.
"No." How nostalgic, just like her last mission as an arbiter.
"I'm capable of forcing my way through, you know as such from personal experience. I'm merely being polite. Open the door."
She expected him to bend, such was the weak heart of the one that stood before her. She was proven correct as he flinched at her words.
She was proven wrong when he shook his body in refusal.
"I'll have to refuse. I'm done making excuses such as 'there's nothing I could've done'. No matter how afraid I may be, I'll hold my loyalty above all else."
Garion raised an arm, fairy beginning to gather in her hands. Restricted it may be by his precautions, a singularity it still was.
It took a step back, fear clearly evident even with a metallic body. Yet he still stood, blocking her path, making no attempt at allowing her through. Garion waited for a few seconds, seeing if he'd break. He did not.
Pushing down her annoyance, she turned around to reach her destination through the hall below.
Was this too planned by him? To further prove his point even after she had left.
A single flick of the wrist, and a dozen sweepers are reduced to nothing more than a puddle, their mechanical bodies unravelling under the influence of fairy. Hundreds more stood behind them, not one willing to approach an arbiter of the head. They all ran soon after.
Covered in blood and with tears flowing down her face a little girl sat. Patches of color other than crimson revealed that her neck length hair would normally be a pitch black, not so dissimilar from her own.
She had to wonder, why did she not kill the girl the moment she stood to run at her?
Why did she allow the girl to hug her waist, dirtying her pristine clothes.
Why did she place a hand upon her head as she cried, patiently waiting and wasting her time.
Why did she bring the girl along, taking the lamb under her protection even though she had nothing to gain from it.
Was it merely a whim of the moment? If so, why did she keep her around for so long?
Was it a sadistic wish to see her suffer? If so, why did she offer comfort at the dead of night?
Was there simply no rhyme or reason? If so, why did she cling to those memories as though they were her only lifeline?
Was it a kindness hidden deep within her pitch black heart? If so, why did she allow the girl to be taken away, even as she silently cried out for her in terror.
Did she regret what she had done? Did she regret what she hadn't done?
It didn't really matter, for she never had a choice.
For all her power as an arbiter, she was more trapped than any other, made to exist and cease in service of the city. Any thought of rebellion would result in her prompt disposal and replacement, as was the fate of many before her.
Her sin was but one, the devouring of her fears and regret for the sake of survival.
She never had a choice, so why did her heart ache so? Telling her things could've been different.
She never cared, so why does she cling to the phantom images in her head? Insisting she could've done better.
"..."
Sip.
"..."
Sip.
"..."
Sip.
"What are you attempting to say to me? I wonder, for you to have been trying for so long."
There was no response from the brain floating in containment, of course there wasn't. Her voice was like the images within her mind—ever present, constantly trying to make itself known, yet never allowing itself to be grasped. A ghost that haunted her, no matter how far she ran or how hard she tried to keep herself hidden.
Yet she could never look away, such was her nature. She was to stare into the abyss and see everything from above, judging the world with the eyes of an eagle.
To her eyes that saw the present, everything would unravel, revealing their truths no matter how ugly it may be. Everything, including herself.
She had to wonder, since when did she begin to hide herself from the truth she always gazed upon, forcing her worldview into a neat mold that suited her slothfulness best.
She wanted to believe, yet the chaotic world had resisted that understanding at every turn, insisting itself to be different…Nay, it wasn't the world.
Nothing about it was chaotic, all of it had been carefully orchestrated. She had covered her ears and closed her mind to the sight she saw, for it was the easier thing to do. Such a sight was useless, only serving to corrupt one's image of the world.
She had hidden herself, so he had raised the sun over her head, so she may once again stare into the present. And he had asked her…
"Will you continue to hide?" He walked in casually, welcoming himself into her sanctuary as though it was common sense.
Garion decided on one last test. "From what would I be hiding?"
"From the possibility that things could've turned out different with Zena, that you could've been better."
Ah, there it was then, laid out bare. He knew everything, his gaze stretching far beyond the horizon, he saw right through her.
"For how long?"
He took a seat across from her, just the three of them.
"Perfect knowledge and foresight make an efficient combination indeed. I've foreseen a moment like this since the very beginning, not long after I probed your brain."
'From the very beginning'.
To have the entirety of your being revealed to another, present and future.
How uncomfortable, to be so exposed.
How reassuring, to know there's always someone who understands you.
She's been observing the world around her, believing herself impartial, all the while refusing to pay heed to the one known as 'Garion'. Though it seemed she couldn't hide any longer.
"Perhaps I am." She said, deciding to finally pour the two of them a cup each. Tough he may act, she enjoyed seeing him struggle with the bitterness nonetheless.
"How far do you see?" She questioned.
"Far enough, even if my mind and heart is incapable of bearing the sight of it."
…What must it be like? To see the future, to see your struggles, to see the destruction and rebuilding of one's self millenia in advance. Such foresight must demand a truly diabolical host, capable of planning around the collapse of their own fragile sanity.
Perhaps she envied him, to be the bearer of such a gift.
Perhaps she pitied him, he who is forced to hide from what he always sees, lest he be crushed by the future he planned to create.
"What do you see of me then?" She decided to ask, even if she already knew the answer.
He saw the future in its entirety, she saw the present from the eagle's nest. He of the present who sees the future is still within her sight, a window into a new world.
"The future isn't always set in stone. Within you is a thousand people, all awaiting their moment. Which one shall come? I don't know, but they certainly will be a changed you."
'The hope to be a better person.'
Garion found herself smiling. She hummed to herself for a moment, tilting her head and contemplating his words.
"Perhaps I believe you, perhaps I don't. I'll decide that for myself when I have seen this future with my own two eyes." He chuckled as he stood up.
"That tells me you've changed already."
She spoke just as he opened the door to leave.
"Feel free to come at any time. Tea will always be ready〜."
"The same goes for you." He replied.
The door closed, and now it was just the two of them.
"..."
"...I will bear witness to this martyr of yours in your stead. It would be a shame if such a man was to be forgotten without a trace, no?"
"..."
There was no answer, of course there wasn't. She was simply left to ponder, what could've been.
A 10 year old girl asks her mother, "Mommy, how was I born?" - Page 1 ...Quite frankly, Angela was beginning to become desperate.
It was one thing to fail at something, it was another issue entirely for it to constantly repeat for centuries. The cactus continued to resist her attempts at making it bloom, remaining stubborn in its hostile and unsightly form.
She had tried everything. Every variable was adjusted, every potential solution tinkered with, every factor accounted for. Temperature, moisture, lighting, soil compound, chemical environment, radiation levels, she even tried adjusting Qliphoth deterrence levels on the off chance it was somehow related to the abnormalities.
No such luck.
To be watched by her creator as she made a mockery of herself and her intelligence, it left a knot in the stomach and a sinking in the chest. A feeling she realized was humiliation long ago.
It had reached a point wherein she decided to try asking the facility's automated logic A.I for help, though it of course remained useless as always, spouting nonsense about applying Serum G—something they didn't have.
So she remained stumped, glaring at the accursed object of her obsession through every camera in the room. It only served to annoy her even more, as she got its image ingrained into her memory from every angle.
"My, such twisting of the brows. One shouldn't allow themselves to be defeated by an inanimate object." In the corner of the room Garion sat, sipping tea as always. Angela wasn't exactly sure why, but the human sephirot had become a constant presence in the office and the laboratory, even when her creator wasn't here.
"It's difficult to remain composed when I've failed so many times even with the guidance of the manager."
Angela huffed mutely as she took a seat in a futile attempt at relaxing herself.
"You say that as though his guidance supports your endeavours." The sephirot said, with the ever present strange rhythm to her voice. Angela raised an eyebrow, she had come to realize that such expressions helped when attempting to communicate with others.
"The manager has no reason to make false statements, and his capability in such matters is unquestionable."
"Perhaps, though one must wonder if his goals align with your wishes."
"What are you trying to say?" Angela hurried her along, she was beginning to tire of Garion's roundabout manner of speech.
"To be so impatient, despite having lived four millenia. How strange indeed." She slowly took a sip from her cup. Angela got the distinct impression that it was done solely for the sake of annoying her.
It was working splendidly.
"There is no doubt that he holds a positive opinion of you, but that doesn't mean his actions will be agreeable for you. Perhaps he already knows what you wish to know, and is simply withholding his knowledge as it doesn't serve to further his goals. What will you do then?"
In less than a second, Angela answered resolutely.
"I'll accept his judgement. If such a scenario is beneficial to him in some way, I'll contently put up with the frustration of failure."
Garion hummed for a moment. "...Yes, such a scenario is quite simple isn't it? For one such as you, there is a clear correct choice…Then, what if his intended actions were to result in your untimely end? Would you still accept such an outcome?"
For the first time in her existence, Angela felt anger. The audacity of such a question, it left her rattled.
"...My duty is to follow the orders of the manager. If such an outcome is in accordance with his wishes, then I will comply without question."
A small smile Angela saw, a small smile she ignored. She did not wish to put up with her antics any longer.
"I suppose such an answer is not unexpected…Then, what if it were to result in his own death, do you see yourself accepting that?"
"..."
Garion's smile widened at the silence.
"What is the point of this line of questioning?" For the first time in her existence, Angela had to resist raising her voice. Such an act would be inappropriate.
"Not answering I see." Once again, she slowly took a sip, the seconds ticking by and bringing down her patience along with it.
"To ask a question simply because it's possible, is that not the spring of all wisdom? I'm merely a swallow flying across the lands, digging at patches of dirt in the hopes of finding where water flows." With one last tug, Garion empties her cup.
"It seems to me that this land remains dry. I'll be taking my leave now, perhaps the ones below will have more to give."
Angela was fairly certain she had just been insulted. She was still more than happy to see the sephirot leave.
"Perhaps you should try glancing down, more may be found only if you are willing to look for it. Who knows? Maybe you'll find the solution you seek〜."
And with that cryptic advice, she was gone. Angela sighed, for what she couldn't quite say.
"Why have you decided to welcome yourself into my department?" asked the robot covered in cloth. With a singular eye glowing in purple and nearly every inch of its body unseen by the outside world, it made for a unique sight even with its rectangular appearance.
"My, my. Such bad manners, you should be more hospitable to guests."
"You should mind yourself first, forcefully welcoming yourself in isn't the height of manners either." It glanced her up and down, seeming to take in every detail. She heard a sigh as it went on to pour her a glass of water.
"At least you appear to be following proper dress codes, even if it's completely different from the standard."
Garion glanced at the translucent glass of plain water now sitting in front of her.
"No tea?" She asked.
"The only drink allowed within the workspace is water for hydration. All others are banned as per protocol."
Ignoring her heartbreak, Garion continued to question. "Now why is that? Is it to be followed simply because it's the rule?"
"Of course not. All protocols and rules are to be based firmly upon logic with a clear purpose in mind, pointless procedures only serve to increase workloads and hamper efficiency." Was his quick reply, with absolute confidence and unshakable belief.
The Claw stood across the hallway, silently guarding a door, just as he has been for the last few weeks. It wasn't an important door by any means, one among the hundreds that connected one empty hall into another. In fact, it could be considered the least significant location in the entire building, out of sight and out of mind.
The Claw slightly bowed his head in greeting upon her approach, saying not a single word. "How long have you been here, executioner?" she inquired.
"Since I was given the order to stand guard by you, lady Garion." His reply was short, curt, and straight to the point. Even among Claws, this one in particular caught her eye for how stiff he was.
"The last time you left this location?"
"Never. I've yet to leave since my first arrival, nine weeks ago."
"Not even to eat?"
"The beholder has already arranged for my sustenance." An interesting specimen indeed. This one will do just fine.
"Follow me, executioner." The only sound of confirmation was the scraping of metal as the Claw moved to walk behind her.
"Have you questioned why you were ordered to guard that door in particular?"
"No."
"What do you think the reason is?"
"Irrelevant."
"Now why would that be the case?"
"My duty is to follow orders. I was told to stand guard, not reason."
She hummed to herself for a moment. This one was certainly the most obedient among the Claws assigned to her; they normally required some wrangling at the very least.
"Hmm. What if I told you you've been guarding nothing for the last two months, would you be frustrated?."
"No."
"Why not? I've wasted precious time you could've spent doing something else. You could've been a better asset to the head at the very least."
"Being ordered to tear an impurity apart. Being ordered to guard a door without purpose. There is no difference in significance between the two. I have followed my instructions: to follow the orders of Arbiter Garion."
"You won't bother to question the reason? The meaning behind your actions?"
"No. There is no reason for me to question. My only duty is to follow the rules as set by the head." How interesting indeed, to be given such an answer.
"And yet, that answer tells me you grasp the concept of meaning. Are your claims of not caring as true as you say?"
"I'm to not lie without permission."
Garion smirked, how amusing it was to dissect these strange creatures.
"Ah, but if one were to convince themselves of a falsehood with all their being, would that lie still be a lie?"
"..." The Claw remained silent.
"You will not answer?"
"I was not ordered to answer." Garion chuckled, truly amusing indeed.
"And therein lies the contradiction, doesn't it? What is your name, executioner?"
"Baral."
They were outside by now, standing in one of the many back alleys of district one.
"Baral, you are to guard this pebble until ordered otherwise." She said, pointing at a stone that laid in a corner of the street. Grey and lumpy, it was one among millions.
"Yes." Was his stoic reply.
Garion took a sip from the glass. It was plain.
"Why would water be the only drink allowed?"
She received her answer immediately, not a moment wasted. "It reduces the risk of harmful liquids created by abnormalities being ingested by mistake."
She hummed to herself, such familiar confidence.
"If you have no further business here, I'll kindly ask you to depart. You're making my employees nervous."
"Yes, yes〜."
Garion found herself chuckling as she left. Two people, both utterly obsessed with rules, yet so different in nature.
"You remained there until the very end, not questioning for a single second." She whispered to herself, having recovered a single nugget from the ocean of mud that was her memory.