Maine and his crew's comfort was well-intentioned, a camaraderie among comrades, but it felt like scratching an itch through a boot when it came to David's deep-seated confusion about his path and the meaning of his existence, which arose from Osiris' words.
Just then, Lucy, who had been silent, walked over.
She didn't look at Osiris, nor did she acknowledge anyone else; she simply tugged lightly on David's arm.
"Let's go," her voice was soft, yet like a glimmer of light, it pierced through the heavy gloom that enveloped David, "Don't stand here anymore."
David looked up blankly, gazing at Lucy.
There wasn't excessive pity in her lavender eyes, nor the kind of encouragement Maine and his crew offered, but rather... understanding? Or perhaps, an invitation.
Like grasping a lifeline, he subconsciously followed Lucy, leaving the solemn atmosphere at the workshop entrance, leaving Osiris' imposing figure, his cold lingering words, and the concerned gazes of Maine and the others behind him.
Lucy led David through the messy but orderly passages within the outpost to her small cubicle.
It now bore more traces of life than when she first arrived, but it was still simple, even somewhat sparse.
She closed the door, and most of the outside sounds were instantly cut off.
"Sit down," Lucy pointed to the only relatively clean old chair in the room, while she herself sat on the edge of the bed.
David sat as instructed, his hands on his knees, his fingers unconsciously intertwined.
He was still immersed in the shock and self-doubt brought by Osiris' words.
Lucy didn't speak immediately; she took out a Braindance headset and fiddled with it in her hand.
"Want to watch?" She offered the headset to David, "It's about the Moon."
David was stunned for a moment. The Moon? This seemed completely unrelated to his current situation.
But he still took it, put it on his head; he needed anything that could distract him right now.
The Braindance started.
It wasn't a fierce gunfight or a sensual scene, but an boundless, silent expanse of cosmic space.
Then, the view zoomed in, and the grayish-white surface of the Moon clearly appeared before his eyes.
Craters were like huge scars, and the Sea of Tranquility was vast and desolate.
There was no sound, only absolute silence and an indescribable desolate grandeur.
The perspective slowly moved across the lunar surface, revealing Earth like a blue sapphire, suspended against a dark velvet backdrop.
This experience formed an extreme contrast to the noise, chaos, and crampedness of Night City.
David felt as if he had truly escaped that quagmire, finding himself in a pure, cold, yet infinitely vast world.
The Braindance didn't last long.
When David took off the headset, his eyes were still a little dazed, as if his soul was still lingering in that silent vacuum.
"Very different, right?" Lucy asked softly.
David nodded, unsure what to say for a moment.
"There are no corporations there, no gangs, no endless neon lights and the noise of AVs," Lucy's gaze drifted towards the small, sky-less window of the cubicle, as if she could penetrate layers of obstruction to see the distant starry sky, "Only tranquility... absolute tranquility... That's my dream, to leave Night City and go to the Moon."
She paused, her gaze returning to David's face; her eyes, often carrying a sense of detachment, now appeared exceptionally clear.
"I know the boss' words sound heavy and hard to understand. He... he thinks differently from us. In his eyes, everything might be a machine that can be disassembled, analyzed, and solved with knowledge and tools."
"But," she changed her tone, "he wasn't wrong about one thing: you can't always wait for others to give you answers, or expect others to save you. Maine and his crew could bring you back this time, but what about next time? Constantly relying on others, one day you'll truly have nowhere to go."
"I'm not asking you to learn his way of... seeing everything as a machine," Lucy chose her words carefully, "I mean, you have to find your own strength, your own way.
Maybe it's not entirely knowledge, but it must be something you can hold in your own hands. Like..." She pointed to the Braindance headset, "Like I want to leave here. I know I can't rely on others; I can only save money myself and find opportunities myself. This is my path."
"What happened to your mother is difficult," Lucy continued, her tone calm and firm, "The boss gave you a path, a very difficult, very demanding path. But at least, it is a path, a path that theoretically allows you to master the solution yourself.
Compared to placing all hope on 'charity' that might appear someday or on the help of others, this path, though difficult, is more tangible."
She looked into David's eyes: "Being deceived, being kidnapped, that's not your fault; it's the fault of those who set the trap. But if you can't stand up again because of this blow, or only think about 'begging' more carefully in the future, then that's truly losing.
You can be afraid, you can be sad, but don't forget why you embarked on this path. Don't forget what you want to protect."
Lucy's words, without Maine and his crew's boldness or Osiris' cold rationality, were like a gentle stream, seeping little by little into David's dry and chaotic heart.
She didn't directly negate Osiris but offered a different perspective, transforming "seeking knowledge" from a cold dogma into a possibility of "mastering one's own destiny."
She shared her dream, as if telling him that even in the darkest corners, one should retain a longing for the distant, for freedom, and accumulate strength for it.
David looked at Lucy, at the clarity and determination in her eyes that seemed out of place in Night City, and the tumultuous waves in his heart seemed to gradually subside.
Shame and self-reproach still lingered, but something new began to sprout in his heart—not an immediate understanding of Osiris' Adeptus Mechanicus logic, but a vague realization of the importance of self-salvation, and... the seemingly indifferent but actually delicate concern of the girl before him.
He still felt lost about the road ahead, Osiris' criticism still pricked him like a thorn, but at this moment, in this small cubicle, listening to Lucy's calm narration and seeing her yearning for the Moon, he felt... like he could breathe again.
"Thank you..." David's voice was a little hoarse, but it had more strength than before.
Lucy shook her head slightly, saying nothing more. The room fell silent again, but a silent understanding and support quietly flowed between them.
David knew he needed time to process all of this.
He needed to ponder Osiris' words, re-examine his own path, and also... live up to Lucy's guidance and Maine and his crew's life-saving rescue.
His apprenticeship, perhaps, truly began after this cruel blow from reality and the violent clash of ideologies.