Ayin kept a close eye on agent Edward, seemingly the only former apostle still affected by WhiteNight after TT2's activation.
The man had a violent breakdown upon being hired, and had to be subdued via force. No other employee had shown a similar reaction so far, with the other agents who were turned into apostles only having a slight increase in mental corruption levels.
The agent walked into Punishing Bird's containment unit to perform insight work, running through protocols and writing his report as per usual. He had seemingly returned to normal after a memory wipe and heavy enkephalin therapy, but tests showed his mental corruption levels to still be higher than usual. Not a cause for dismissal or true concern, but still enough to require his attention.
"The mental corruption levels of the agents affected by WhiteNight remain slightly higher than the normal amount, there have been no signs of them decreasing on their own as we had first suspected." Reported Angela, as she had been told to do once per hour.
Ayin frowned at the information. He had expected WhiteNight to leave a lasting influence upon the facility, but he had still hoped that wouldn't be the case. No such luck.
Angela spoke up once again, concern clearly evident in her tone as it had been for the last few days. "Manager, are you sure you don't wish to give a mental corruption test?"
The concern was by no means unwarranted, as he was the only one among the former apostles to have retained his memory of the incident. It had caused him to become the second person to have manifested E.G.O, a clear mark of the effect it had on him. But…
"I've told you already, Angela. There would be little point in me giving the test as it was never meant for someone who had lived for over five millenia. The results will be wildly inaccurate."
She frowned at his words, clearly unwilling to accept it—
"I understand, manager."
—thought that didn't stop her from nodding in affirmation. It never did.
A hundred questions on the tip of her tongue, not one allowed to escape. Words left unsaid, conversations unspoken, hearts unrevealed. The powerlessness she subconsciously feels, an unwillingness to break free from his grip.
It was for the best, they were nearing the end either way.
He stood to leave, Angela moved to follow.
"Keep an eye on the facility, I need to see Garion." He said to her, she nodded after a second of hesitation.
Yes, it was for the best.
The sight of the extraction department shall never fail to pierce deep into his heart, no matter how many thousands of times he's seen it. A dark forest of pillars that rose above the skies and stretched beyond the horizon, truly a testament, for both of them.
Among the pillars wandered Garion, an easy expression and a calm mind that he could never hope to match no matter how long he spent wandering this forest of sin.
A small smile he saw as she saw him approach, a hint of amusement in spite of her recent 'death'.
"The flow of the river is quite powerful is it not? Eroding one's rationality below its unrelenting current, it drags you along to its destination, a basin of unchanging water where a person will reach their final equilibrium." Garion began.
"Some basins are muddied, unable to take form." She pressed a palm to one of the pillars, gently caressing it.
"Others are crystal clear, imprinting their existence upon the fabric of reality forever more." She looked to the one path that ran through the middle of the forest, where several employees dragged an extraction unit containing tomorrow's abnormality.
"It's a destined path, set in motion at the moment of one's conception. You can slow the flow down, you can drown before reaching the end, but there is no way of truly avoiding it, for by its very nature the heart desires this basin." Garion finally turned to him, her smile widening.
"Yet some people reject this inevitability, struggling arduously to dig out a new path, rejecting their deepest wishes in favor of something else. It's all pointless, as no matter how much one changes its course, the basin moves to match it." She chuckled with great mirth, almost laughing by her standards.
"I see that you have joined The Red Mist among those who redirect the flow, as lost as she may as of this moment."
He nodded after a moment of thought, as unworthy as he may be when compared to Kali.
"I ask you, why does one struggle with all their might? Fighting against their heart's deepest wishes. It seems contradictory, does it not?"
His answer came without a single moment of hesitation. "The path of the heart is the simplest, yet it is often not aligned with the principal of the mind. Futile as it may be, we struggle to reach a different destination, just as all living beings struggle to survive, in spite of the inevitability of death."
Ayin wore a small smile. "Besides, you've already contradicted yourself, have you not? If the basin moves to match the redirected flow, that means the final destination has already changed. I simply desired a different equilibrium, that is why I have turned this stream of emotion into an outward tool to be wielded, just as Kali did."
Garion began to walk, he moved to follow suit, heading towards Carmen.
"Have you decided where this basin shall be?" She asked, Ayin felt it was more of formality than anything, he wouldn't have manifested E.G.O if he didn't.
"I have." He replied.
"And what is your decision?" She prodded further as she always did.
"I will simply do both. Both Carmen's dream and Angela's happiness shall be fulfilled." Garion stopped before turning to stare at him for a moment.
"You are aware of what would be required of you, yes?"
He nodded. "Of course."
"The head, the eye, the claw. You think yourself the holder of strength enough to overcome them?"
He nodded once again. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't know that to be the truth."
A frown settled upon Garion's face. "I'll not verbalise my doubts, but know they exist."
She began to walk once more, and in a few minute's time they sat with Carmen, silently sipping tea. A cup was emptied, then refilled, then emptied once again.
"What do you seek here?" Garion finally asked.
"You already know my answer." Was his reply. She did not chuckle as he had come to expect.
"I still wish to hear it." She pushed. Ayin sighed in annoyance, it always was so very difficult to deal with her.
"I come seeking your hand." He said cryptically, refusing to give Garion the answer she wanted purely for the sake of spite.
It was silent as she stared at him with her eyebrows raised, awaiting a different answer, it would never come. She gave in after a few moments.
"Perhaps you have, yet one loose end remains. One must face their past fully before moving forward into the future. Do you fear what my neighbour shall say to you when he comes to his realisation?"
"...Perhaps I do." He said, a slight tremor in his voice.
"Then you must turn back one last time. 'Face the fear, build the future' are the words you have inscribed into your wing, are they not?"
Ayin downed the rest of his tea in a single breadth before standing up. He let out a shaky sigh.
He nodded as he turned to leave. He had one more sin to face.
Garion poured a cup of tea in an alleyway of District 1, a small chair and a table set up to accommodate her. A few meters away stood Baral, the reason why this otherwise unremarkable alley had become a famous landmark, for an executioner of the Claw has stood guard here for nearly a decade.
The arbiter found herself coming here more and more often as the days passed, each time the sinking in her chest growing more pronounced.
Did she come here to reminisce?
Perhaps she did, in spite of how little meaning such an action held, for the time passed with Zena absent had already surpassed the period spent sheltering the girl in her home.
Her inquisitive eyes that seemed to see the world in its entirety, a thoughtful gaze that pierced through the veils of falsehood, she still thought of them often.
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised when Zena was selected for training. The girl was brilliant beyond her being, a kind of brilliance that a backstreet rat had no right to hold.
Was that why she took the girl in? To see how far that brilliance could be pushed? Or perhaps she saw something familiar within Zena's eyes, a pitch black iris that mirrored something within Garion herself.
…Nay, it was not a mirror, it was a window. To call it a mirror would suggest she still held the hints of luminescence that floated just beyond the glass of black. She did not look at a reflection, she looked at what once was, and what may have been.
But such a path was never to be. She had been swept up in the current, to never return to what once was.
All she could do now was reminisce, and wonder, as she always did.
"What did you think of Zena, Baral?" She asked the Claw.
A scraping of metal claws, a sign of discomfort. It was amusing how easily read the executioner was in spite of his supposed indifference.
"...I hold no particular opinion on the girl." He answered.
"That hardly seems to be the truth. You enjoyed her conversations, did you not? As one sided as they may have been."
Baral fiddled his claws once again before going silent, speaking not a single word more. Garion sighed before returning to her thoughts and her tea.
An hour passed, the world remained still, the air silent. Only the sipping of tea and the ruminations of memories that had long run out, revisited over and over again in some hopes of reaching an equilibrium. A cycle that never ended, an ouroboros of thought with no final goal. Perhaps that was the equilibrium, an eternity of meaningless reminisce.
It was finally broken by a gruff voice.
"It matters not either way."
"..." Garion did not answer immediately, giving herself a moment more of thought.
"...Yes, I suppose it doesn't." She said, standing up to return to her residence.
It was the last time she visited the alleyway.
Garion stared at the receding sight of Ayin's back. She let out a sigh before finishing her cup of tea, to quench the green in her heart, to restrain the envy in her soul.
The chance to face her sin, the opportunity to mend their broken bond. She too had a chance, she simply threw it away in fear of the sight that filled her eyes.
At the end of the day, her sorrow was but her own fault, the only thing to envy would be his willingness to face it head on after a single nudge from her.
Benjamin sat across his desk, a chess board placed between them.
Just like always, pawn to E5.A familiar hue of silver white filled his sight, eyes of emerald green that seemed so familiar, but was ever so slightly different. Perhaps there was a sense of clarity within those eyes that was previously not present, Ayin couldn't quite tell, blind as he was to the world around him.
His junior, his student, his assistant, his friend. Benjamin once held many titles in his life, yet never was he required for the final goal.
The connections he had slowly built, the long nights spent attempting to refine cogito, the experiments he had run to find the correct dosage, the terrors of twilight that kept him in the shadows, away from the Eye's all encompassing gaze.
All of these he accomplished by himself, and now he stood on a precipice; preparations were nearly finished, and the project could get started in earnest soon enough. Yes, Benjamin was never required.
He was never required for the project, but perhaps Ayin still needed him in those moments.
When everything became too burdensome to bear, when he could no longer hide from the reality of the world he wished to dictate, when he could no longer close his eyes to the future he saw. Such moments when his fragile skin would unravel under the weight of suffering and give way to an unending void of despair.
Would Benjamin have comforted him? Told him that it was alright, that he'd stand with him until the very end.
Would Benjamin have been his sentinel? Protected him from the harsh winds of the world, if only for a moment.
He supposed it didn't really matter, for such a present never came to be. Benjamin had run, unable to bear the price of creation.
He had run far beyond the horizon, over the hills and across the lakes, to a place where Ayin shall never reach, where their shared memories will flow down the river of time, forgotten under the weight of distance.
Ayin didn't blame him, he never could. Those to be blamed were but two, the world that had refused their paradise and he who had failed to overcome it. His only hope was that Benjamin would be able to find a happily-ever-after without regret to weigh him down.
But rarely did hope come to fruition in the city, and here Benjamin stood, chained by regret and the misguided faith he had placed upon him, dragged from where he had fled back into purgatory.
Benjamin spoke to him, Ayin replied, yet not a single word did he truly understand. Apologies were given, a tear was shed, promises were made. They spoke for the first time in years, and perhaps Ayin was glad, and perhaps Benjamin was glad. Yet nothing was remembered, nothing was understood, nothing remained in his heart.
Nothing but a deep sense of tired melancholy, for another one would be killed by his hands.
Bishop to b2, attacking Benjamin's rook and forcing it away from the pawn that held his position together.
Rook to b1, striking back against the bishop and forcing it off onto the b3 square.
Knight to g1, attacking his bishop on h3. Bishop to d7.
Benjamin's brows were furrowed deeply in thought, their first game of the loop stretching above forty turns and deep into the endgame.
Benjamin had a single point of advantage in material, but Ayin held the superior position, his bishops weaving in and out of his opponent's back line and threatening to collapse the pyramid Benjamin had set up.
It was a position Ayin's seen hundreds of thousands of times before, put on repetition and only slightly changed with each match that was played. With his opponent unable to remember their previous games, the current advantage he held was one built through memorization rather than superior skill.
Just like always, Benjamin moved his rook to d1.
Just like always, Ayin's bishop escaped to e3.
Benjamin's brows furrowed even further, and Ayin knew the current game wasn't the only reason why. He had made no attempts at keeping Benjamin blind this loop, and his friend's mind was likely filled with a hundred suspicions for their current situation.
There was a limit to how much a lie could be stretched before something broke, and it was time for Ayin to face his friend once again.
King to g2, bishop to g4, rook to e1, bishop to d2. On and on it went, identical to the thousands of games that came before it.
Ayin had lost every match that came before, improving by marginal amounts and slowly increasing the number of moves it took for Benjamin to be victorious. But a critical point had come, wherein Benjamin's skill was no longer enough to overcome the endless trial and error.
"Checkmate." Ayin said, ending the millenia long tirade he had put up.
Benjamin stared at the board for a while. He didn't cheer, he didn't jeer. Slowly, his gaze lifted to match his.
Ayin recognized those eyes, for he had seen it once before. The eyes of a man that had come to a realization, one who had seen through the veil of falsehood to find the truth of his situation.
Benjamin did not speak, he did not scream. He simply stared at him, searching for something within his auburn eyes.
What did he seek? Perhaps Ayin knew the answer, perhaps he didn't. Even after all these years, he could not grasp what lay beyond the surface of his being.
In a single moment, a current of anger, sadness and blame flashed through his emerald eyes before settling into a look that could only be called resignation.
Benjamin let out a long tired sigh before standing up.
"I must gather my thoughts." He left without a word more, Ayin couldn't help but sigh as well.
'What do you mean you built a nuclear reactor?!' Benjamin yelled in utter bafflement.
'It means I built a nuclear reactor, come on junior keep up.' Ayin said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
'Our physics professor confiscated it under the excuse that the parts used belonged to the university, and as such the prototype is technically their property.' He explained.
Benjamin's bafflement only deepened at his words. 'And how do you intend to get it back exactly? I highly doubt it's small enough for the two of us to just pocket and leave.'
Ayin scoffed. 'They can have that unfinished junk, the problem is that he took my patent for the design while I wasn't looking, that's where the real money is. I have an engineer from R-Corp interested in buying it for a hefty price, I'll give you 10% if you help me get it back.'
Benjamin fervently shook his head. 'No! I've been on thin ice with the physics professor as is, I'm not risking my degree.'
'15%!' Ayin insisted.
'No!'
'20%!'
'It doesn't matter how high you raise it! A no is a NO!'
"30% off! A deal of a lifetime!"
Benjamin rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stared at the loaf of bread in his hands that's been on sale for at least a month. What a strange moment to be reminiscing about.
He's been doing it more and more lately, recalling random moments from the past, whether it be from their days as roommates in university or the time they spent together at the laboratory in the outskirts.
Such incidents weren't particularly rare back when they were younger, Ayin would always find trouble one way or another. He thankfully mellowed out with his crazy ideas after meeting Carmen, and even then there were no shortage of smaller incidents in the laboratory.
He ended up giving in and going along with Ayin's plan to get his patent back. As expected, their plan ended up going completely off the rails and eventually ended with the professor fired and at least half the department destroyed. Most of the cash they received selling it was spent paying for the damages and the two of them decided to waste the rest drowning their sorrows.
Quite frankly, it was a pointless endeavour, dangerous to boot, but he supposed it made an amusing memory if nothing else.
Benjamin found himself chuckling, even as sorrow took root in his heart. He supposed all those memories meant little now that Ayin's lost his way and he's run away, but even still, it was fun while it lasted.
"What is so amusing about that loaf of bread?" Someone suddenly asked from behind him.
Behind him stood a tall lady dressed in purple, a fixer judging from the weapons upon her person.
"Just reminiscing." She appeared to have noticed the bitterness in his voice.
"A happiness now lost hmm? I suppose we have that in common, I too spend much of my time reminiscing about days long past." The fixer stood beside him as she began to place groceries into her basket.
"It feels suffocating doesn't it? A crushing sensation that devours your life whole and makes you feel like everything is pointless. Throwing you out into the sea with no compass, it makes you feel as though you have nothing more to live for."
Benjamin had to stop himself from lashing out. Though he wished to accuse the woman of overstepping, he couldn't deny the accuracy of her words.
"Don't make such a dreary expression, you still have one more thing to cling onto do you not? Perhaps you should try mending your broken bond, I'm sure he needs you." A hundred alarms were raised at her words, his body stiffening in fear.
"Who are you?" He asked. She smiled sweetly at him, though he couldn't help but compare her to a snake.
"Simply a concerned bystander, you may call me Iori."
He wished to question her further, but the fixer had already left, the only proof of her existence being the missing groceries among the shelves.
He had tried his best to ignore the strange woman's words, but like napalm they stuck to his thoughts and burned away everything around it.
He found himself staring at a familiar pair of auburn eyes, an unkept pile of black hair to accompany it.
Beside him stood Angela, the conflict within her clearly visible in spite of her calm demeanor.
Benjamin turned away to gaze upon the Records department. Castles and clock towers seemingly stretched on forever, built with no rhyme or reason; it could only be described as a dreamscape, where all employees awaited their turn in eternal slumber.
It seemed that he too was counted among those who slumbered, even if he wasn't aware of it.
"How long has it been?" He eventually asked.
Ayin stayed silent for a while, the only sound in the air being the steady ticking of clocks.
"...Three thousand years, almost four." He eventually said.
"I see…" Benjamin closed his eyes, taking the number in for a moment.
"Why now then? After all this time." He asked, even though he was aware of the likely answer.
"We are at the precipice, I wanted you to be there for the final days." Benjamin could practically hear the apology that was to come afterwards.
"Do not ask for my forgiveness, that would suggest you believe yourself to have made the wrong decision. You still think it was for the best, do you not?" He couldn't stop the accusatory tone that bled into his words.
"...Yes, I do." Ayin admitted.
Benjamin knew it to be both the answer and the truth, yet it still hurt to hear.
"And you have no intention of rectifying this, do you not? You still intend to go off on your own, leaving me behind."
'I'm sorry, Ayin. For having left you behind that day, I should've looked beyond my own grief to see that you were hurting just as much as I.' He said to Ayin. His friend replied, telling him he was sorry as well; yet Benjamin couldn't shake the feeling that Ayin was looking beyond him, rather than at him.
"Yes, there is no need for the both of us to suffer. There need only be one." Ayin told him.
"Then save your apology for something deserving of it."
'Ayin, from now on, no matter what happens, I won't run. Through the waves of the great lakes and to hell then back again, I promise to stand by you, to be a pillar of strength should you ever need it. In exchange, I only ask one thing. Allow me to fulfill my promise, and promise me to share half of your burden.' It was an oath made from the deepest part of his soul, words that he will live by until the day of his non-existence.
'I promise.' Ayin said, auburn eyes meeting his emerald. Yet Benjamin still couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't looking at him, instead staring at a vision that laid far beyond the horizon.
"I understand." Ayin said, an apology for breaking his promise never verbalised.
So that is why his gaze felt so off that day, he was never speaking to him.
Sadness, anger, despair, betrayal. There was no one word to describe the feeling in his heart, but the only ones that mattered was resignation, and quiet resolve.
"If you believe yourself capable of walking the path by your lonesome, then prove it to me." There was a tiny shift in the hundreds of clocks that surrounded them, unnoticeable even to Angela.
"If I am not needed, if you hold the strength to carry the burden by yourself, then show me how much you've grown." The clocks began to hasten, each tick coming sooner than the last.
"Show me your resolve, and should it be found lacking I will be the one to reap your failure." No longer did the clocks hold any meaning, no longer did time have power over the facility. A tick came before the last one could, the seconds overlapping as some moments repeated itself a dozen times while others never came at all.
"Return to your office, let us make up for all our lost time together." Benjamin finally said, and the hands laid silent.
Ayin nodded before turning to leave. There was no hesitation in his actions, as though the current situation was exactly what he had expected.
Benjamin stopped Angela when she moved to follow him.
"Angela, remain here with me. We have much to speak of."
They too had much time to make up for.