For the select few who hold a strong connection and yearning for music, a path to further their link with the craft opens itself. With a little luck, magic, and the blessing of Hatsune Miku herself, some receive the honor of receiving their own personal worlds: their SEKAIs. Several groups of such lucky individuals find themselves… unusually UNlucky upon unlocking their very own SEKAIs. An experience that should have been personal and joyful, instead torn down under the threat of murder.
Good thing Hatsune Mike herself will be here to guide you!
Colorful Dreams is a Dangan Ronpa-inspired MKG crossed over with the world of Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! This game will accept 16-20 characters aged 16 or older and sort them into bands, or “units,” of 4-5 people, while simultaneously mixing in the MKG elements! The characters in this game can be from anywhere in the world, and be a college student or someone elderly. All they need is some connection to the love of music!
Colorful Dreams is a game for 18+ muns, runs on multi-day submission trials through the tumblr blog, with threading occurring on a discord server. App submissions open soon!
About || Mods || FAQ || Apps || Hopefuls || Hopefuls Server
Ever since the killing game experiment had ended, Erik A had been both incredibly busy and finally taking a break at once, especially in the first few months. First, despite his aching ribs and the delay in getting out, staying on site to assist with the transferring of AI was undoubtedly the right call, he thought. For one, Erick Weiss was in no state to do physical tasks just yet and Kenshin was down an arm which would understandably slow his speed. And for another, he really wasn’t kidding about both his personal expertise in software engineering and his FBI connections and general high knowledge of government legalities that he was able to successfully keep any of the forces present from seizing the data.
But finally… it was done, and despite all of the times during the experiment that he was sure he’d never make it out of that facility, Erik A would get to go home.
‘Home’ was a strange thing to think about, all things considered. Though he first entered his own apartment, empty of anyone else other than his own creations now mostly shut off for whatever trip he’d originally planned for, among his own things again as he was forced to sort through some things in the immediate… there was a sense of isolation to it, and of not being quite where he wanted to be. He can tell right away that locking himself away in this place for too long will just make his newly recognized as questionable mental health spiral.
And so instead, for the first time in years of being terrified to associate his family home too heavily with him from his own paranoia… Erik A allowed himself once more to be with his family, cared for and with support for the next month and a half of time while he recovered, and for once was finally given some proper time off from his government job in the wake of the experience he’d gone through, left only to sort through the other legalities and fallout of everything else going on, not to mention all of the things he wants to do for himself and for the dead. But at least, with a sense of warmth and care in the air from his moms and even his sisters and Uncle Ben as they come home to visit… It’s nice, and despite the mental struggles he still had both new and old piling up, he can feel himself relax a bit and accept that care, even if just a little.
And finally, a full month after being home and settling matters further, Erik A even finally makes his first therapy appointment since he’d quit going as a teen. It was weird and familiar at once being back to it, but… He was as ready as he’d ever be for it now, and even told quite a few friends to be sure to hold him to continuing to go just like he’d keep holding them to it too.
He also comically crashed his old bully’s wedding later that year just as he’d planned to, only to be pulled aside and by Eric M once spotted and formally apologized to a full decade later, and even thanked for both coming and helping him figure out more about himself so that he eventually met his now husband. Though surprised… Erik A was relieved, rather than resentful, and it was almost as if another part of him could rest now knowing. They’d stay in touch, even if not regularly, and years later, Erik A would still receive yearly family Christmas cards from Eric M and his husband (and, eventually, little girl), which he’d read each time, Jewish or not.
Romantically for himself, and especially following the frankly traumatizing situation that was most of the game surrounding them before now, Erik A had requested to take a break from any sort of relationship with Adrik and Akito so that they could focus more primarily on letting the adrenaline of the life or death ordeal fade as they slowly recovered and developed healthier coping mechanisms. They would all still stay in contact of course, but time would be given this way to make certain that things would be done properly if they happened at all, slower like he’d wanted to start with, and this time with more certainty that it wasn’t just the danger of the situation talking either.
The first of the two he rekindled things with was Adrik a half a year after gaining their freedom, at first over longer distance, a new experience for them both. And once their own family and other situations abroad had been settled, Adrik made their move to Miami after the one year post-experiment mark, not to live with Erik A initially, but to be nearby to him and accessible, as the two began to spend significantly more time together in person again. Though slower things were now that they didn’t have the risk of dying any day now… it was wonderful to have that close connection again, to share comfort and growth alike.
And only just barely after Adrik’s move was Akito’s first visit, of course with the intention to romance them both properly this time, one and a half allergens of Erik A’s in hand- And the feeling of being serious both about dating the two of them and for making things more healthy this time, which both Erik A and Adrik would ultimately accept, spending that trip and future ones beyond it together and finally a little more free of stress, before committing to a co-living space for themselves much further down the line.
There were plenty of others from the experiment that remained important to Erik A as well, of course. Every range of occasional to frequent contact and keeping up with many of those both dead and alive that he’d met during the ERIKA experiment, and in some loved ones of the living and dead alike that he had the chance to meet as well.
Text chats and visits to the VR once he had the chance to, the live stream marathon that he’d promised to do for fundraising in collaboration with Kenshin, Kori, Byrne, and a number of other invited guests to raise money… Even his first ever permission to leave the country for vacations and other endeavors given to him by his superiors, one of the first of which being to Austria for the VR and work related reasons, and then to Canada for a road trip of self fulfillment and a fun cake delivery. He even kept close contact with Erick Weiss himself as well, working closely with him on the VR primarily in some specific projects from a distance, though with the occasional drop in to pester him in person as well.
Events passed by, one after another over the next months and years: His parents met both of his partners, welcoming them with open arms (but teasing Erik A mercilessly for the deviation to his usual taste). He finally released DISFRAY, the game he’d made but never finished the ending to for over a decade, now finally out in the world for a purely optional price tag, the funds of which going to donation in Adrian’s name, since Erik A himself hardly needed the money.
He began to develop his next game as well, born from his proof of concept project of a rhythm game he’d made for Kori, now fleshed out with boss fight concepts with some pointers from Kori herself on many factors, and an original soundtrack in part by himself (as he’d been happily getting into more music writing with the help of Byrne as of late) and in part by Cosette, who he’d offered the chance to have leave her mark on the world with a boss she’d get to assist in designing herself, and a song more core to her being than the others she’d been writing for years. The end result was beautiful, and successful too after the promoting from his friends alongside his own channel, with the fun AI map making tool he’d installed for future endless games of play allowing for replayability beyond just the main gameplay mode.
Some of the dead opted to have their existence erased, Cosette, Marlene, and Ae-ra included, and he did what he could to be there for them or to help them in accomplishing all that they wanted to before the day came, wherever he could.
His oldest sister Amelia married her then girlfriend, and soon enough, he found himself being an uncle, his first real experience with helping care for a child and definite practice. Aria was her name, and he did his very best to learn how this child rearing thing worked and be a cool uncle, while still maintaining some level of responsibility.
His youngest sister, Sarah, graduated college with her decision to ambitiously pursue astrophysics and seek a master’s degree in the coming years after some long talks with Erik A like the two of them had, a decision he couldn’t have been prouder of her for, and who’s journey he was fully willing to help fund in part, just as he’d wanted to reach out and assist Eureka’s youngest clone sister as well if she ended up needing it after her injury.
Erik A had even managed to convince his government superiors to finally allow him to work more part time fromthe two years point on, and eventually after nearly a full decade (15 years since the start of his job, in fact), he’d been set finally free entirely, able to pursue what he liked with greater ease than he had before, though he certainly didn’t wait until then to start. He took more care to not overwork himself as badly as he had previously though, of course, sticking to a lenient streaming and video schedule to make way for his passion for game design to finally flourish as well. And just in time, too, because now with a ring on his finger, well… it was looking more and more likely that he too might be a first time dad in the near future, and by now, he had plenty of other experienced friends to talk about that possibility with too. Before anything else though, he was absolutely dragging both Adrik and Akito to some proper parenting classes, because he knew full well that they would need it if it was going to be a possibility.
It was funny, though, how time marched on without stopping, and how slowly but surely his doom-like thoughts had become less and less intense over the years, now that he knew how to pick them out and give them a good kick or pie in the face, metaphorically, of course. It wasn’t perfect, and neither was he, but… he could finally look back on that time in the experiment all those years ago and the scrambled time in his life both before it and after, and see how far he’d truly made it since then.
…
Erik A finishes up the letter he’d been writing, detailing the latest year of his life down with a sense of humor and levity as well as mixed in genuine sentiments and ideas for what he might do next, just as he had with many before on previous ones. The would be recipient was long gone, both physically and digitally, but he’d kept up with his promise to write to her all the same, and to keep her memory in his mind just as he had with others in their own ways, a worn color, through games and music, through learning to bake, and more. The small ways could matter without taking over your life dwelling on the past constantly in a bad way, or at least that’d what he’d always thought. No matter how things changed, some would stay the same, huh?
He signs off his letter to Marlene with a sigh of satisfaction, his session of rumination over the last year drawing to a close with a small doodled drawing of the tattoo idea he’d been thinking about getting for himself finally. The handwritten letter is folded neatly and put into an envelope, before he gets up and stretches.
Though it may not be an ending, only still a relatively early point in his life… He’s ready to move forward once more today, and for as many days as he can after that.
Just because the experiment is finally over doesn’t mean Akito Mikage’s work is done, or that it will be entirely finished in the months and years to come.
With promises to call and text his partners and the few friends he made every day, Akito departs for London with Kristina and Noelle in tow. Even if the three masterminds behind this Project were neutralised and in custody, there was always the danger of someone picking up the slack and coming after them, or more specifically Kristi. As she sleeps, exhausted from learning just how close her mind was to being overwritten, Akito and Noelle send another message ahead.
Vernal and Midsommar, no, Raymond and Dahlia are there to pick them up, along with a group of armed men that the former explains he has hired for his own protection. Since the experiment had been prematurely compromised, it wasn’t safe to be around his dearly beloathed father or the group of visiting “dignitaries” from the Erika Foundation, so they’d gone to ground and had waited until it was clear the extraction had succeeded to emerge from their safehouse.
It was a reunion with few dry eyes. Whatever the enmity between him and Akito had once been, Raymond whispered his thanks to the blonde, holding onto his girlfriend with tight arms for the rest of the ride back. Having already explained what was going on in the days before everyone flew out from the facility, they would have to brace themselves for the media fallout in the next couple of weeks, and prepare themselves to explain just how a ragtag group of five upheaved an entire shadow foundation with just the right set of skills.
“But first, I’m going to need a really good therapist.”
Akito gets his wish, and can tell his partners with confidence that yes, he is making himself go to therapy and talk about everything. Not just the experiment, not just his accident, but everything from the unreleased anguish of his childhood and the loneliness that’s finally started to ease up. Kristina joins him a few days, both traumatised from the kidnapping and the stress placed on their shoulders for leaving their families alone.
But it’s time they have to heal. And the rest of the world continued to move as they did.
It was Kristi’s idea to try and celebrate Christmas with those who had to stay behind in the VR. She’d only gotten to know several of them through the robot’s actions, and felt like in some way, she wanted to thank those who had kept her best friend alive. The few months had cooled off his enmity with some others (as onesided as it could go with Eureka, at least), and he tried his best to fulfil last requests and assisting compensations from those who had them, so why not visit and try to make their continued stay a little more pleasant?
At least the party didn’t double as an intelligence gathering mission this time. The outcome may hurt him more than he’s willing to admit, but he accepts it for what it is this time. He gets it.
The days passed into weeks into months, as several people came and went throughout his life. Assisting MI6 would end up occupying the time he spent not back on the stage, but the people of His Majesty’s Theatre were sympathetic to his situation. His relationship with his partners took a little break as they focused on their individual needs, and he did in fact return to Japan for a few months just to spend time with his mother.
And also prank Kenshin with Kori’s help, but don’t tell him that. He’s not sure Byrne will ever take anything he does, no matter how harmless, without a lingering sense of anger. Some things were best left laid to rest.
Eventually, Adrik moved to Miami and settled in with Erik A. When he was ready to make it work one more time, Akito made the trip over to their house with a luxury box of raspberry chocolates and fresh bouquets of pollen-free flowers, and even some small clothes for the orange hellspawn- er, Sunny, although he was certain the cat would just rip them up since they were from him. Boo. Whatever the case, their love rekindled and remained strong, and when his contract in London eventually runs out, he makes his way over to Broadway to revive the Phantom of the Opera production in the heart of the American theatrical industry. It’s a lot closer to them, and he’ll always have a place to stay in London with Kristi, Raymond and their kids if Uncle Akito visits.
He makes new friends and associates, and watches Rose’s streams while trying to guess which one of the donations is his partner being cheeky. He finds out who his father is when the man comes to apologise to him for never knowing, and forgives him all the same while giving Pierre his mother’s number, asking him to talk to her about it instead. He grows past his past mistakes, little by little, and assists whichever group needs him to testify against and bury the rest of the Erika Foundation, his head held high even as their nightmare continues to hang over his head.
He defends Satoru Nagase with everything he has to get the man off on a technicality and his good name cleared, and sends An and Calluna a cake and a sincere apology for what happened. He even gets in contact with Erisu to talk and reminisce, to introduce her to Kristi and help them make peace between each other. Things won’t ever be the same there, but at least he has one of his friends back, even if they’re probably never going to let Jaemin know the full extent of things. Their kids also have him thinking… but not right now. Not until-
And then the day comes when it’s done. It’s finally over.
Five years have passed. He’s in his thirties now and his first grey hairs have appeared, but for the first time in many moons, he can walk out of the courthouse with a tired grin. His work is done, the people behind the Erika Foundation brought to justice and his involvement with cleaning up the last few stragglers honestly unneeded. The weight that rests on his shoulders disappears, leaving only the lingering pain from the memories of five years past.
He still wishes Cosette was here, just a little. So instead, he resolves to clean the shrine he set up in their memory, sitting prettily in a corner of the house he lived in, until it’s extra-bright tonight.
Many things have changed by now, even his appearance. Though still as bright yet gaunt as ever, the mask is now clipped to a belt buckle by his waist, and he wears his scars in public with pride. They are a part of him that no longer gives him grief, a reminder of who he used to be before. There are some things that haven’t changed at all, though, and when he gets home, he feeds both his three angelfish and their young juveniles, a tall glass of iced chocolate milk in his other hand.
When his usual routine is finished, he walks downstairs into the basement, converted into his private soundproof study where all of his instruments are stored.
And then he screams. Long, loud, reverbating in the empty room where it all echoes back at him. He screams for what feels like minutes, getting all of the emotions welling inside him out, all the stresses and sacrifices and farewells he had to make for the people he had known and still knew, still remembered. His yelling only stops when he’s finally gotten his catharsis out, and it takes several minutes before he can shakily push himself back up to his feet.
Akito is willing to admit that the mask will never truly go away. You don’t change habits grown over twenty-five long years of hardship, hellish mentalites and humourless hamartia overnight. Even now, it just feels so surreal that he’s made it this far, this long, without eventually collapsing into himself and losing his mind to the madness.
He should be dead, so many times over. He considered the idea of fading away into the night when no one was looking, letting them find their happiness away from him.
But invisible hands and invisible voices pull him up from the abyss. A diver with a single hope of floating back up finds proof that he is still alive, and aiming for the bottom of the sea, finds the happiness to never drown again. This life isn’t easy, but it was something he put everything on the line to live for, and he won’t do those who want him here the disservice of leaving when he should be living.
It’s his life, too. As he leaves the room, he pulls out his phone to make a long-overdue call.
Just because the nightmare is finally over doesn’t mean Akito Mikage isn’t scared of the future. But it’s not like he’ll be facing that alone, either. And for the two who meant so much to him…
“Hello, Greyson Jewellers…? Yes, order 5549. I would like to come pick up my engagement rings.”
(Besides, Monsieur Dupont had always told them, hadn’t he? There was no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. Play it with everything you have, because that’s your gift to the world.
Would Cosette be able to reach them? Truly, will these notes stay in your hearts?)
It’s funny, how she always misses out on the ending. Ever since she was young, she paused right before. Games, dramas, books, comics. She never could bring herself to bring something to a close.
Guess she was the only one with that issue. Even now, the others are fighting desperately for a life they feel they deserve. She wondered what that must be like. To still have something worth the struggle. For Marlene’s part, she could hardly stand to watch. It all just felt so…Embarrassing, watching everyone try to plead for a better option from the one responsible for all this.
She never really stopped to consider it before. But a true fight for survival, a wretched struggle to live, to breathe, to exist for maybe just one more minute, even just one more moment. Impassively, she watched the final showdown and tried not to let the bitterness clog her lungs (how fair was it, that they could fight like that?)
It was such an ugly thing.
Dress it with as many wings and silken fabrics as you wanted. Beautiful lyrics, holy metaphors. You can call out your pleas for God to listen with as much poetry as you wanted. You can dress it up how you liked. But survival wasn’t pretty.
It had claws and teeth, and it sunk deep under the skin, straight to the marrow, and it didn’t let go. It was all raw agony, primal misery, and there was nothing pretty or inspirational about it. And she knew better than anyone. There had been no elegance to her own attempts for survival. The way she had stumbled, bleeding through the halls, feverishly trying to staunch the flow of blood with her hands, but it was all red.
Red. Red stained her skin, too much, browning and crusting, and it was such an ugly color. Paisley would have hated it on her. It wasn’t for her. And Marlene wouldn’t have blamed her. She agreed.
So maybe survival never fit either of them.
But Erisu sure pretended she could wear it with the best of them. The two sisters tried to flaunt it. But Marlene could see the claw marks, the teeth, the wounds beneath the wings and silk, and you’re just as ugly as the rest of them.
There was nothing inspiring about your story. There was nothing sympathetic. There’d been no apologies, no closure, leave that for the living. Because for people like you, beneath that shimmering curtain, beyond the veil of excuses and sob stories were all the bodies you had left to rot. Hers among them. Twisted in agony and putrefied black with decay and there. That’s the survival you found so inspiring. So beautiful.
So inspirational. She could almost cry.
Everything was hollowed. Her words were hot air. Every single word she’d written, and not one composed a proper eulogy for her.
Was she so awful, she wondered? She picked at the scabs, set it to bleed all over again, dug her hands inside to pry old scars apart as she searched for an answer. She couldn’t let herself not feel. Did she not deserve to be remembered, too? Was there something wrong with her?
The plights of the living did not reach her. Her heart didn’t didn’t beat in tandem with those pleading with Erisu for a better option. Her heart didn’t beat at all anymore, actually, and that’s when she lost all significance. No longer Marlene Murphy, but her corpse. Her shadow. An object. Unimportant. Maybe so. There was no longer a reason to consider her in any of the proceedings, wasn’t that right?
Marlene was sick, hearing of forgiveness and second chances. It felt like poison. She couldn’t forgive and it felt like a betrayal. She was cruel for saying so, she knew. The dead had no right to speak unless it was in favor of the living. If not, then let those with breath in their lungs do it for you. You have no right. No say. No life left in you. And if anyone had it their way, you wouldn’t still be here because you’re in the way. A reminder of the atrocities that went into all their survival, however well ignored, was still a reminder.
And if you had it your way, you wouldn’t still be here, either. And Marlene knew that. Still, selfishly, she had continued to fight for your survival, harder than she’d ever done for her own. Even when it had gotten too much for you, as it had for her now. Despite all her complaints and wishy-washy convictions, she dragged your name through the muddied blood and wore it like there was some honor to be found.
So maybe this was some karmic punishment all along for how she’d done you wrong — dear Paisley, everything had gone so wrong and look where it got the both of you.
The remains of the croissant Cosette had given her was crushed between her fingers, and she watched the crumbs fall with little fanfare. She didn’t turn her gaze back to the final battle. In fact, she hadn’t even been aware it had all ended.
Funny, how she always misses out on a satisfactory ending.
She didn’t think of the living, or of the experiment, or of the injustice of it all. She didn’t glance towards the fellow deceased. Her eyes were kept on the fragments of everything she had in her grasp. Trickling away like sand.
The harder she held on, it seemed, the more she lost.
Unlike everyone else. They held on tight. And it seems they won it all.
How was that fair? But that was life, huh?
Weiss’s words washed over her like fog. Incomprehensible, impossible to grasp. They had no real meaning to her; she couldn’t see through. It was a slow fade to a dreamless slumber.
She went to sleep thinking of you.
And when she woke up, you were the first thing on her mind.
It was like no time had passed at all, everything for everyone else had already fallen into place. Legal battles had been settled; her existence, and all the rights associated with it, placed into her own hands. She could do with it as she wills, and nobody could take that away from her. It’d be her choice to make. Not Paisley’s. Not the sisters’s. But hers. Her choice, whether to exist or not. Survival was nothing but an option. Whether to live or not, it all depended on what it was worth to her.
Not for the first time, Marlene was given the choice to make everything right. She didn’t intend to mess it up for a second time. Deep in her heart, she knew the best thing to do.
A story couldn’t go on forever.
She thinks Paisley would agree with her when Marlene said survival never suited either of them.
As for whether to live, however…Well, she thinks she already knows the answer. The best way to do just that. Ironically enough, it all started with the decision for an ending.
There’s a letter addressed to her. Weiss makes sure she receives it. The signed name is one she heard before, in passing, but it was wholly unfamiliar. She never had the privilege of a proper introduction, had she?
She tries to give it the benefit of the doubt, truly. She tries to take the words at face value. She does. She makes as much of an effort as she can.
But she only makes it about halfway before the words all blur together between tears. Grief, anger, loathing, bitterness…All are missing. In fact, her expression doesn’t shift, doesn’t move, even as the first tears begin to fall. She doesn’t even know why she’s crying, she’s been doing that a lot more lately, and it’s so unlike her.
Such empty sentimentality. She’s tired of the ‘I never knew her.’ She’s sick of the ‘I wish I had done more.’ She no longer wants to hear such pretty words that lack all substance. She wanted her ending to be something more poignant, if only just for her. Because those words, they’d never been for her, had they? They were for you. An attempt to soothe whatever half-baked guilt you may harbor. If you had any at all.
Did you have any at all?
You were sorry, weren’t you? You were sorry that you weren’t sorry at all.
She wasn’t grateful to be treated as an afterthought. She wasn’t appreciative of half-hearted attempts meant to appease rather than a face-to-face discussion. You can tell her you just never cared enough to reach out, to talk, to apologize in person, face-to-face.
She liked letters. She liked letters because she could lie, so easily, and no one could tell the difference between her and Paisley. She liked the control she had, the way she could scribble out what people weren’t meant to see, the insincerity wrapped between paragraphs of genuinity. Maybe it was the same for you. Maybe you hoped she couldn’t tell the difference between the person you were and the person you wanted to be.
Unfortunately, she’d written words like these a million times before and never meant a single one.
She deserved an ending of honesty, after a life of lies and deceit. She could be selfish, one final time.
There were some things you just had to confront personally.
She’d screamed herself hoarse that she was here, she was here, she was here, and at the end of the day, it hadn’t mattered. She languished in solitude and bitter regret and isolation after Kaguya had disappeared, a ghost who’d missed the memo on what it meant to be dead. Of the few who reached out, who actually listened to her cry, you weren’t one of them.
She’d still almost been replaced. Her scan had almost been wiped in favor of someone stronger. And it might as well have. Now, she had no voice left, and she feared her words would never be heeded. So what did it matter if she erased her scan herself, then? Really? She was just following up on what was expected. Just finishing what should have been done. Fulfilling the rightful role of a dead girl.
She scanned over the letter once. Then twice. And nothing. The words struck nothing in her heart. She couldn’t trust whether they were lies or the truth.
Was this really all she amounted to? Was this as far as it went for her? It hurts, but as nothing but a hollow ache, just a small, miserable pang in her chest.
At the very least, though, she’d given his words the time of day. That’s all you could be sure of, when writing a letter. Someone, somewhere, would read it. It wouldn’t always amount to anything, but at the very least, someone was thinking about you. You and your words, for all of a few minutes, regardless of how little they meant.
She’d never had to swallow such insincerity until she’d taken up Paisley’s name for herself, and…
*Oh.*
It’s a quiet revelation. A soft, sudden inhale.
Oh. Okay. So now, it all makes sense.
Without hesitation, she rips the letter to pieces. There would be no response.
So this was her punishment after all.
♪♫♪
She waits for her head to clear for a few days. To get away from it all, the living and dead alike, a small little cleanse. She spends time in the woods, listening to the whispered secrets she tucked away in her pockets, in the snow-covered mountains, making small-talk to her reflections in pools of water or to Atlas.
It helps, a little. She’s sure. She’s sure of everything. She doesn’t want to skip the ending this time.
She informs Weiss of her decision, and he asks if she’s ready now. She wonders about that. Truthfully, there’s no reason she shouldn’t be. She was ready, had been ready, and everyone else expected it of her. She expected it from herself.
There was nothing for her here, and no one outside waiting on her. It was just…Her. Her, and all her memories of her.
There was nothing…Except for maybe one thing.
One person was holding her back, stalling her commitment. And it was so foolish. Marlene couldn’t even tell you why Cosette’s existence made her hesitate. Maybe a selfish, part of her was scared to leave them alone, was scared to be alone. One more day, she promised, just one to make sure. One more day became a few. Then weeks. But she couldn’t leave them like this.
She supposed, after all the times the ghostwriter had indulged her, her and her selfish ways, it made sense for Marlene to return the favor somehow. She wanted to make sure Cosette would be okay before she left.
They were the one obligation tethering her here. Not Paisley, not Byrne or Erik A, but Cosette. Would you be alright? And it was so frustrating, watching them slip back into old habits, false smiles and cheer and deflection, and Marlene can’t stand it. Had this been what she’d been waiting for, then? Was this the answer she had waited to receive?
(“Are you going to be okay?” They seemed so stressed lately.
“Hm?” A warm smile, so sickeningly fake, fake, fake. “Why wouldn’t I be?”)
Marlene had snapped, one day, in the snowy mountains where the two spent time with Atlas and Terraforge. Cosette’s act wormed under her skin, ate away at her. It was so irritating that Marlene had staved off her own ending for this. “What a waste it’d been for you to die,” she’d seethed. “So redundant, when you’d never really lived. If this is how you wanna be, fine. Thank God I won’t be around to see it anymore!”
Silence echoed off the snow. Guilt seeped under skin with the wintry chill.
…She’d apologize, not long after. She hadn’t meant it. But what an awful way for the news to come out, huh?
“I’m going to erase,” she’d murmured quietly, burying her face in Atlas’ feathers. “I’ll be going tomorrow to set a definitive date. I just…Wanted to make sure that you’d be okay. Before I…I’m sorry. I wanted to wait to see what you’d do. I was being selfish. If this makes you happy…I won’t stop you. If this is your decision on how to live…I’m proud of you. Really.”
Just be happy. Why was it so hard for the both of them?
Cosette has an answer for her the next day. Part of her is horrified, worried she might have influenced it in some way. Part of her isn’t surprised at the decision in the slightest.
And part of her is just grateful that she won’t be going alone. It’s Cosette, that offers to go together.
(“I’ve still got some things to finish,” Cosette had told her apologetically. “Can we wait a little longer?”
(“…However long you need. I should probably take care of some things on my end, too.)”
There were some affairs to set in order, before she planned to go. Thankfully, it seemed they wouldn’t take too long to go through.
Erik A had been good to her. He’d kept his word, every last one. It was a rare quality to find in others these days; she’d told him as much. She hoped he never lost that. She had wished he’d kept that Peepy, though. She complained to him about it often, how it kept staring at her throughout the day.
She never tells him, but she kept all his letters. She still reads them from time to time. Even sends replies when she has the time. He deserves to have a soft epilogue.
Erik A had helped launch an investigation into Paisley’s disappearance. Given how long she’d been missing, there wasn’t a lot of hope held out for her well-being. Marlene had figured as much herself, that she’d never see Paisley alive again.
But now the world knew. Those who loved her, those who wrote to her, they finally knew. Maybe they were few. But they were real. More concrete than anything Marlene had suffered through the years. And god, if it didn’t feel like the most crushing weight had been lifted from her shoulders. For the first time since her death, she felt she could breathe. It was almost ironic.
She’s told the university the two attended set up a scholarship in Paisley’s name. It’s a start, she supposes, as far as legacies go. And the Initiative Paisley had so lovingly set up was still going strong with the former participants taking it upon themselves to keep the project going.
Marlene had a small wave of visitors within the following months. Old friends of hers, of Paisley’s, had come to visit; Robin, Bernard. Kerrigan. Tenner. They’d all changed in so many ways that Marlene could hardly recognize them. And they’d continue to change over the years, until they became little better than strangers; only Marlene had the option to be something eternal and everlasting.
Thinking about it, Paisley would have been quite green with envy, wouldn’t she? All she’d wanted was to make something worthwhile. Something eternal. Marlene had the chance to be what Paisley never could…And she wouldn’t take it. Let her obliteration serve as her final love letter to the girl known as Paisley Sommer.
One day, Jack came by as well with the rest of them. It hadn’t gone well. Their interaction had started strained enough; any conversation between the two of them, the ex-boyfriend and the affair partner, was bound to turn volatile at some point. Their words had been clipped to start before slowly simmering to a heated argument.
(“How long,” Jack had practically spat in rage, “had you written to me, pretending to be her?!”
Robin’s in between them, pleading for them to stop. Kerrigan’s got his hands over his ears; Bernard’s holding Jack back while Tenner’s enjoying the show.
Neither of them can quit. They’re both addicted.
“Why don’t you take a guess?! You loved her so much, didn’t you? You should have been able to tell the difference!”)
In the end, Weiss had to forcefully eject the group from the simulation when their interaction became too volatile. But not before Jack left her some choice parting words.
(“You’re sick! Fucking twisted. You deserved this. Every bit of this, you deserved!”
“I KNOW!” The words caught around a dry sob, “I know already! I get it!” She got it.)
And it was hard, you know? Watching him leave. Hearing such words. Marlene had lived for years as Paisley. She’d had to love the man she’d loved. It was part of her obligation. She’d loved him, too.
So to, now, was this inevitable heartbreak also part of her obligation. She wondered if Jack ever knew how badly he had broken Paisley’s heart, and how this didn’t even come close.
Just another way she had fallen behind. Another way she’d fallen, another lie.
None of her old friends visited again after that. But Tenner continues to send messages up until her very last day. And Bernard sends pictures of his countless dogs. Robin asks for advice on outfits every so often.
And it helps. A little.
The visit from her parents is harder.
Kenshin had kept his word. All the ways he had let her down, yet this was the one promise he had kept. She didn’t know whether to hate him or thank him for it. It was a complicated feeling, sitting across from the two of them in her home, staring down awkwardly at the table. Words were so hard to find when she wasn’t staring at the page.
Of the two, she hadn’t expected her mother to be the one so tight-lipped; she’d always been so explosive in her emotions. But Marley could see it in the tremble to her mouth, the unnatural shine to her eyes, that if she made a move, a single sound, she’d break into something she couldn’t put back together, and she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Her father, on the other hand, bore his weary heart on his sleeve. Marlene could feel it beat against her as he pulled her in for a tight embrace, finally breaking the silence.
“Marley,” her father (her father?) could hardly speak. She’d never seen the man cry in her life. Never. She’d only ever seen him sad, but never so defeated. “My girl, my girl…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I let you down…”
“I’m sorry,” Marlene had choked the man’s shoulder, quivering. A part of her knew, inherently, how wrong this was. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for dying. I’m sorry I’m…”
I’m sorry I’m not really your daughter. I’m sorry she’s gone, for good. I’m so sorry I’m following her.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have come home to you.”
Her mother finally cracks, sinking down against the table with a broken howl of anguish, shoving her way into the embrace, pulling Marlene against her, just once, just one final time, and it hurts. It hurts, how they hold her like a ghost instead of a child. They cling to her with such frenzied desperation, Marlene feels like a monster to her core, for wanting to leave again. A relic of some past they’d long forgotten, only just now learning to cherish.
She’d never be their kid again. They all knew that. But Marlene knew they just didn’t care. Any piece of her they could salvage, they would. Even knowing how much grief and agony it would bring them. She supposes she really had been their daughter, then, because she knew the sentiment firsthand. Such silly things they’d all do, for love.
The few days they spent together would live on in her heart for the remaining time she had left. She introduced them to Cosette, showed them her favorite places. Her father was especially giddy about the area where he could catch Cretchurs; her mother didn’t understand the almost rabid joy the two got from their little excursion, catching and battling for hours.
But nothing lasts. Marlene releases them all, every last one, every Cretchur, ever reservation, every bit of anger and doubt. Even Atlas, much to the confusion of her parents. Just making necessary arrangements. Marlene didn’t want to leave them in the dark again, so she was upfront about her final wish.
And her parents were, as expected, adamantly against her decision. They tell her they’ll never allow her to go through with her decision. Never. They’d never let her out of her sight for her to try. There’s no getting a word in edgewise or arguing. All Marlene can do is eventually agree wearily to placate them, nodding along absently to the suggestions of virtual therapy and counseling, allows them to stay longer to appease, but she knows they’ll have to leave, eventually. Such was the curse of living.
They know what’s coming, and still, they fight against it. Her mother warns her not to go anywhere. Her father pleads with her to stay. They’ll sue the people responsible. They’ll bring her home for good. Everything is going to be okay. They’re still a family. They’ll be back. They’ll be right back.
She nods. She sends them off. And when they’re gone, the first thing Marlene does is tell Weiss not to let them back in.
This didn’t need to be harder for any of them than it already was.
To whom it may concern,
It took months for her to find the words through all the vitriol and all loathing, directed inwards and outwards until she couldn’t even feel. Words were water and they set rot in her heart and head, all her dampened, decayed efforts littering the ground and bin, torn pages where her pen broke the page in her endeavors to inscribe all her grief and anger just one final time.
Her therapist had always said she could benefit from vent writing. Scribble it all out, ball it up, and hurl it in the garbage, along with all her rage, her grief, her bitterness, her misery.
Until it was finally time. Erase it all before she was erased at all.
Let it all out, for no one to read but her. There’s only one heart she had to soothe. The rest was all inconsequential. Rip all your words to shreds and toss them to air, and the rest was just confetti. Brief, dazzling, light, airy. Your words, a celebration of all you were and could have been; destroy them. Rip all your anger and grief to pieces and let it flutter around you. Reach for it, but let it dance away from your fingertips. Let it all go.
I don’t have much to say. Not anymore.
Your words, your real words, have only ever been for those who would listen. Hadn’t that been your conviction from the beginning? It was time to stop grieving those who refused to listen, and celebrate the ones who had. One final time.
The letters wouldn’t be sent to anyone involved in the game. But a copy would be there to read, at Marlene’s former residence. Weiss had promised her that much. For any who came later or heard of her choice in passing, all that would be left of her was this, a final message beside a blank envelope.
Just live your best lives.
One last time, she’ll write her self-serving messages, but she hopes you know, in your heart of hearts, they weren’t for you. Not really. They were for her.
Her, and everyone else who needed them. They were for the struggling single mother in Suffolk with too many mouths to feed. They were for the retired athlete in the Philippines who lost connection with his family. The Canadian choreographer who was never able to make new friends after hurting her very first one. For all the members of the Initiative Paisley had loved and lied to, that Marlene had lied and loved, too, in her own way. This was her final send off.
I guess you were going to do that, anyways. Just remember to be kind. Remember to be thoughtful. Sometimes, that’s really all anyone needs.
Remember she’d been here. They’d all been here. That’s all she could ask for anymore.
Be good to each other. And be good to yourselves. Don’t let anyone tell you how your life is meant to go. And don’t talk yourself out of a good one. We all deserve so much more than we think we do.
…She still had a few more letters to write after this one, huh? What a pain. She’s ready to set her pen down.
And we don’t always get it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s going to hurt, but that’s part of the beauty of it all. You’re allowed to be angry and upset. You don’t have to accept a life you never asked for. You can make something so much more, I know you can. It might not be what you wanted or expected…But I bet it’ll be beautiful nonetheless.
I hope you’ll tell me all about it.
P.S.
Won’t you write again soon?
Yours,
Marlene Murphy
Of the surviving cast, only Erik A, Byrne, and Kenshin receive personalized letters. They’re the only ones Marlene has anything to say to.
Erik A, she has nothing but gratitude towards. She’ll stand by her claim that he was the best of all of them; she hopes he doesn’t forget that again anytime soon. Though she can’t help but question his romantic tastes, if his partners are good to him, that’s all she can ask for. And if not, he can pray at her grave and she’ll haunt them for him. She will get a proper grave, won’t she? Maybe she ought to ask Weiss.
She feels this might be a bit of an anti-climactic final message. She loved all the presents he’d given her, all the modifications he’d done during her time in the alternate reality. It made everything a little less lonely, knowing there was someone out there thinking about her, if only for a passing second.
From the bottom of her heart, she thanks him for being there. For keeping his promise to her and Paisley. And for being alive. And even if she won’t be around to read it…She’d like it if he would keep writing to her now and again.
The day before her departure, she and Cosette meet with Byrne at the cat café, one final time. Everything she’d needed to say, she could have told him then. But even if it might be a bit redundant, she tells Weiss to send out her final letter to him anyways.
Byrne had always been someone she’d considered to be a father-figure. Was that too bold to say? Sorry if she’s crossing boundaries. But she wants to thank him for always making sure she was included, that she was cared for, that she was as comfortable as she could be in these horrible situations. Thank you, for remembering her. She’s elated to hear he’s returning to college; she’s sure he’ll do wonderful. She’s sure he’ll be as good to others as he was to her.
The world needs more people like you, but that might be a bit much to ask. So instead, she’ll be satisfied with the world just having a bit more of you. Don’t hide away from it again. It was never against you. It was always waiting for you.
Write to her sometime, okay? She’ll miss you.
For Kenshin, her letter is conflicted. Truthfully, she felt the most betrayed by him out of everyone. From his quick forgiveness of the sisters to his invasion of her privacy. There was so much he’d done Marlene just couldn’t forgive or get behind…But she’s grateful he found her parents for her. Maybe he really had been someone she could trust. She hadn’t expected him to keep his word, if she’d being honest; it had been unfair of her to write him off so quickly. She apologizes for that. It hurt, seeing her mom and dad again, but in a way she felt she needed, if that makes sense?
There are some things she doesn’t feel like she can forgive completely, but she can at least try. At the very least, you’re a better man than most, even under everything she couldn’t agree with.
Be good to Byrne. She means it. Break his heart, and she’ll haunt you. FOREVER!
Take care. Good luck. And thank you.
In her last hours, there’s only one last letter to write. It’s just such a shame she doesn’t have a pen and paper with her. She’d only brought the Switch Erik A had returned to her. She whiles the time away as Weiss makes the preparations with mindless clicks of the buttons and flicks of the directional pads, dodging the Koopa shells and banana peels sent her way with practiced carelessness.
It’s a shame, she thinks, that she never got around to sending that final letter. It’s tucked away, back at her home. But the words are there, right in the back of her throat.
Some things, she’d decided awhile back, you just had to confront face-to-face.
Dear Cosette,
They’re with her now. At her shoulder, playing a replica of her old DS, mentioning off-handedly that Marlene, of all people, was the first to learn their name. It throws her for a loop.
If there’s one good thing that came out of this, it was you. It was always you. I’m sorry; you never deserved any of this.
Marlene hadn’t liked Cosette at the beginning, and even now, was uncertain of her sentiments. It was hard to process, this mix of gratitude, grief, guilt, warmth. An amalgamation of feelings that shouldn’t go together, but just seemed to make a lot more sense when Marlene was with them.
Everything with you was complicated, but I don’t regret it. Any of it. Actually, I only regret you didn’t have a bit more time.
She guessed that was life. A little bit of too much of everything, impossible to make sense of, until you were with someone that made it all come together in a sealed envelope, stamped with approval, or a harmonious set of lyrics, sung so gently for the world to hear.
I feel like there’s too much to say and not enough all at the same time. I could go on for pages upon pages. I could write a novel. I could say all the things I’m sorry for. Or I could just say
“…Thank you for your life, Cosette.”
She’ll carry the warmth of Cosette’s final hug with her until the very end. Somewhere, where Cosette’s tears ended and Marlene’s began, there was a pool, an ocean, depths she couldn’t fathom, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. She felt like she could finally breathe. Whatever came next, she was glad to be going with you.
I’m so grateful I could be your friend in this life. I hope we can be so privileged in the next. You made me realize something. Something important.
The end comes soft. She almost misses it, but she’s ready for it this time. She wonders why she’d been avoiding it for so long, what she’d been afraid of all this time. She feels nothing but light.
When sinks into oblivion, but she never loses that feeling of arms around her, or a hand in hers.
I hope to write you again soon. If fate could be so kind…I hope we can meet again. In a better life.
Your friend,
Marlene Murphy
Many years down the line, somewhere in America, on a warm, September afternoon, a young girl with a gap in her teeth dutifully checks her mailbox. Her eyes light up like the stars in the night sky as she retrieves a brown envelope decorated with panda decals, proudly identifying the letter as one sent through the Coorespendence Initiative.
“Mom! Mom! Look, it’s finally here! Malik finally wrote to me! Look! Look!” Gleefully clutching the letter in her grasp, she gallops inside her small, one-story home and slams the door shut.
It wasn’t anything like Paisley would have imagined. It wasn’t the dramatic epilogue she had yearned for. She never did get the world to slow down and remember she had been there. Marlene never did cement her legacy as something monumental and memorable.
But, even years after her disappearance, she had somehow managed to get a little girl a friend, all the way across the world. And a letter she could pin on a corkboard or display on her desk.
So maybe that counted for something. And maybe that something was just a little bit of everything. A little bit of everything we could hold close until our ending comes and we can finally say, with our whole breath,
‘Thank you. Thank you for living. For being born. Let’s meet again someday, okay? It’s a promise.
When Ae-ra had first made the decision, she thought that when this moment came, she’d be more conflicted. How was one meant to react when their existence was set to be erased? When it was moments away from falling into decay? And yet, now that it was here, Ae-ra just felt a sense of peace. Serene.
Although her existence had been exploited, in this brief moment of freedom, she had the choice to end it. And that was a decision she had yet to regret.
But still, the choice itself was easy. The goodbyes would not.
Ae-ra surprisingly didn’t feel any anxiety about being erased, but she found herself shuffling as she waited for the arrival of her guests. She felt a little bit guilty. It would be a miserable sight. Yet they wanted to be there in her final moments anyway.
The first was her brother.
He’d visited a few times in the last few months. It had been awkward, at first. It was her, but also not. He was still grieving the real Ae-ra, yet still had to come face to face with a fragment of her. Still, he visited every time she asked. And he always treated her with the same tenderness he’d always treated her living counterpart.
It was a relief. She knew she wasn’t the real Ae-ra. Not really, but to get to experience that same familial love, she was grateful.
When she saw Ha-neul, her heart swelled with affection and she went in for the embrace. She held her brother in her arms tightly. It was a marvel how real this digital world felt. He didn’t push her away, instead returning the hug with a tenderness meant for someone else.
“Oppa, I’m glad you’re here,” Ae-ra said. It had only been a moment, but she already felt overwhelmed by emotion. This would be the last time, wouldn’t it? Perhaps it was unfair, inviting him to an event like this, but he still came. “I missed you. How have you been since last time?”
When she separated from the hug, she forced herself to ignore that hopeless look in her brother’s eyes. A deep, resounding sadness far beyond what she, herself, could comfort.
“It’s been the same.” Ha-neul’s voice was neutral. “I’ve been working on a new album. I thought…I’d try my hand at writing my own songs this time.”
“Wow, they’re actually letting you?” Now that was a surprise. “I thought your label never would.”
“Well, they didn’t like it,” Ha-neul huffed. “But I’m good at getting my way.”
Ae-ra thought back to their childhood and laughed, “Yeah…I guess you are!”
“How have things been…here? You been comfortable?” Ha-neul asked.
“Of course. Weiss-ssi is very accommodating!” Ae-ra exclaimed.
“But not accommodating enough to make you want to stay,” Ha-neul said.
Ae-ra winced. “No…I suppose not.”
But what was she meant to do? No matter how beautiful and fantastical and amazing the world was, no matter how advanced the A.I., that’s all it was. Ae-ra had never asked to exist like this. Maybe things would have been different if she’d wanted to become a digital construct, but right now…Ae-ra wanted to choose. She wanted the freedom to choose what to do with this existence.
Perhaps no one would agree with it, but it was her choice. And this time she wasn’t interested in pleasing others.
“…Ae-ra, you don’t have to do this. I can visit more, if that’s what this is about. Fuck, I’ll even ask out that twink you keep telling me about,” Ha-neul said.
But Ae-ra just shook her head.
“That’s not it at all. This is just…the real me is already dead. The person I am, I was never meant to exist, but now I do and…Weiss-ssi is wonderful. He made this place amazing, but I don’t want to exist like this. I’ve already made my decision.”
Ha-neul clenched his fists and huffed like he was planning to argue, but all at once, the wind came out of his sails and he just looked at her sadly.
“…I can’t change your mind. I know that. I’m just…I’m sorry, Ae-ra. I should’ve been there for you more,” Ha-neul said.
“No, it’s okay. You were always on my side and that was always enough. Thank you for taking care of me all those years,” Ae-ra said. She reached up to cup Ha-neul’s face. “Please don’t cry, oppa. I have a request for you.”
He just sighed, “What is it?”
“Take care of Eomma for me,” Ae-ra said.
Ha-neul recoiled, a look of disgust and annoyance written all over his face.
“What? No. Ae-ra, you know how I feel abou-”
“I know,” she interrupted. “But Eomma is going to need you. She’s been mourning a long time now. She needs you.”
Ha-neul exhaled in frustration and pushed back his bangs.
“You’re really freakin’ annoying, don’t you know that?” Ha-neul asked.
Ae-ra just smiled.
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll check in with the old broad every now and then. Happy?”
“Very!”
Ae-ra let out a small laugh and reached her hand out to clasp her brother’s in hers. This was it, huh? The end would be soon. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the others, to say her final goodbye.
She could only hope it wouldn’t be too bittersweet.
There was no rain, which was odd. Last time there had been rain. With Kimimi there had been rain. Maybe it was because it was Japan and this was Austria? The weather was pleasant. Chilly in a way that didn’t bother her metal joints. She didn’t cry because what came from her eye sockets could not be called real tears. The water was pure rather than salty. Cleaner than the rain that did not come to wash them away. It was fine. Of course she still would call them tears. Inhumanity claimed her in almost every way. There wasn’t a part of her that was biological and yet she was surely human. Human but inhuman, as she stood at the grave of a person she should have surely died before. Of course life had variations in this but that was not important. The potential for a variation in age of death did not matter when that variation could not occur.
“I wonder what it felt like to grow old. I don’t envy it but I am curious about it, sad about it. I wish you could have lived forever, but that isn’t like you. You cared too much about the whole, natural world, deal… I’ll miss you An. If there is an afterlife, make sure to cause some problems there too.”
Eureka smiled as her knuckles tapped twice on the stone. She would never forget. That was a certainty. Her brain was more reliable now than it was when it was organic. These memories were saved in code and file. It was strange actually. Nobody knew what to expect when they made the bodies. What life would be like when you aren’t alive. It wasn’t bad actually. The worst part was this sadness. Of seeing flesh grow old or fail. She could have joined them. She wouldn’t. Eureka never had that option. It was a choice that didn’t need to be given. Eureka smiled as her knuckles tapped on the stone once then slid off. Her helmet slid on her head as she walked away. Back to her bike and the road.
2145
Music pumped through her ears as she walked down the street. The beat filled her mind and shifted the pace of her steps as if they were sticks to the drum of the pavement. People on the other side of the street pointed and laughed at something somewhere. It was irrelevant. People were annoying anyway. All she cared about was her music and her own life. Maybe the last part was a bit too much? Her life could be given or taken. It was just all it was. Nothing mattered much. The beat was nice though and the feeling of the rubber around her ears from her headphones felt good to the skin. Pain.
SPiking pain ran through the center of her head from out of nowhere. As if something hard had struck her from above.
“FUCK!” Her hands grabbed at the spot as she looked down at the sidewalk in both pain and anger. Was that a fucking gun? Where the fuck did that come from? It was some strange gun with lights along the sides. Like some kind of anime shit. Removing one hand from her head she slowly reached down to grab it and pick it up. What the hell?
“Look out below!” The voice was somewhat shrill and far too energized.
“Wha-” CRACK! Her entire body was pressed against the pavement of the sidewalk. The back of her head was hurting now as it had joined the top of it in being struck. Along with some weight being pressed on top of her. Her headphones knocked off and were lying on the concrete beside her.
“FUCK!” Anger filled her as she looked at what had fallen on her.
“Hey thanks for breaking my fall.” A sharp smile gleamed at her as a pink haired woman squirmed around atop her. Wrapped in rope and cords like some kind of human caterpillar she squirmed for release from her cocoon. A flash came from her side and then the ropes all suddenly fell away. Bending back while still on top of the girl, the woman rocked herself forward to hop up onto her feet. Some strange woman with goggles holding back messy pink hair and energy in the expression under it. As well as wearing a red leather jacket like some kind of cartoon character. Her whole energy was that of somebody not from this reality. The smile was disconcerting. “Are you dead? Broken? Do I need to run away before I get in trouble?” The woman mimicked a running motion as she did so. This girl simply watched in frustrated confusion.
“What the-”
“Oh wait.” Interrupting without a care, the pink haired woman looked up into the sky and began doing some calculations with her hands as if she had cameras she could adjust in her eyes. “Aaaand, just about, there!” A flash of the sun off something in the sky came roaring down off of the building from above. Falling swiftly as this woman shot her hand up. The neck of a red guitar was caught in her hand as this woman pressed her fingers between her eyes as if she was making a cool pose with sunglasses. She actually was making the pose as she caught it! She had no sunglasses! That smile returned with a vengeance as she looked at the girl with a sense of true confidence.
“Hello girl. You have had the great fortune to serve as a falling pad for the great, the genius,” Spinning the guitar round she played a short rock riff before holding her pick up in celebration. “EUREKA STADLER! Traveler of the world and master of many things! Your life just got a lot more interesting.”.
Being home after everything was comforting, a sense of weight being lifted off Jae-min’s shoulders as he finally found himself back in the company of friends and family. Truthfully you’d think being missing for so long would have more of an impact on his life, on the way people saw him, on anything, but it was rather simple for him to find himself a place back in the world.
The only major change initially was his announcing that he wouldn’t be participating in water polo as a sport anymore to pursue higher education. All things considered, given recent events and all, there wasn’t much pushback to this. It was true that the olympic team had lost a star player and in no way was it going to be a smooth process in finding somebody to replace him, but with the support of his brothers, Jae-min was happy to pursue his next steps in life.
About a month passed after coming home, most of it was spent looking into moving overseas to be with Erisu, as it turned out her situation would take her back to japan. His family was rather supportive of this step in his life, his mother and sisters especially, while Jae-min’s relationship with his father became rather tense early on. Over the course of the game, Jae-min had learned much of his fathers behaviour and attitude towards women was rather harmful, and there was a certain level of resentment towards the man for pushing him into the life he had pursued. If he had not been convinced by his father that his bullying was a healthy pursuit, he wondered if he would have the thoughts he did now.
It wasn’t something worth considering for long. Despite the time and effort Jae-min put into becoming better overall, it wasn’t like he was a different man. The cruel and unpleasant thoughts were still there, he still enjoyed the pain of others, he still was a bit of an asshole, and that much wasn’t going to change. He could wish he was different all he wanted, but what really mattered was how many of those thoughts he expressed and how healthy his outlets were.
While still within Korea, the final thing that Jae-min ensured he did was to provide some support to Ae-ra’s family. He had no intentions of getting himself involved mind you, he didn’t need to meet her brother that was for sure, but he did feel the need to make amends, so he made an anonymous and rather sizable donation to her family and left it at that. It couldn’t bring her back, but it was the most he could do to say he was sorry. Every now and then, Jae-min would return to Korea to see family and he would visit her grave whenever possible. He couldn’t bring himself to speak to any of the dead in the virtual world, he simply couldn’t get past his feelings that those were not the people he had known.
The move to Japan was a lengthy process, but after a month or so of work, Jae-min moved in with Erisu in a small home in rural Japan.
Things weren’t exactly perfect at first obviously, there was still the fact she was on house arrest and was helping deal with the aftermath of the Erika fiasco, but at the very least he felt comfortable being close to the person he loved most in this world. That was enough for him. \
Five years of house arrest meant a lot of time together, and over those five years, a lot happened. The first was the discovery that Erisu was pregnant with her first child, which as it turned out wasn’t even his, but rather Erika N Danger’s, a notable development which certainly made Jae-min anxious, but not so much because he was upset with the development, he really didn’t mind the fact it wasn’t his, he just knew this meant potentially raising a child. After long talks, END decided it would be best for the child to be raised by Jae-min and Erisu while she sorted out her life back home, resigning herself to the position of cool aunt who was around from time to time. The child could be informed of the truth at a later age. This however, naturally, meant despite not being his, Jae-min would need to be a father to this child, which he had anticipated anyways.
A lot of the anxieties of fatherhood were mostly vented out to Erik A and Byrne who were thankfully still both willing to remain close to him after the events of the game, but were more than helpful in keeping him calm through the whole process. Nine months later, Akari was born. Raising a child did put things on hold somewhat, but with Erisu pursuing her career in Vocaloid and being able to stay home, this didn’t interfere with his plans of going back to school, which he delayed one more year to ensure he could be there for the child during that time.
As time passed, eventually Jae-min found himself not only applying for school for a degree in neuroscience, but also seeking out some level of therapy due to the many promises he made to Erik A after the fact.
Speaking of Erik A, it wasn’t like the two of them were growing distant by any means, sure they had to keep up their social life through the internet mostly, but Jae-min had gotten rather used to talking to people through group chats surprisingly, and was happy to interact with the other on a semi-daily basis. Byrne was also somebody he kept in close contact with, not quite as often as Erik A mind you, but at least weekly catching up and talking about life and how it was progressing. Truthfully the only hard part of it was having to improve his english skills which were rather lacking. If Byrne wanted, he was happy to invite him to visit sometime in the future once he and Erisu had their life sorted out, and in exchange, Jae-min promised to do the same.
School was good for him, he opted for hybrid courses, and only really needed to travel to the school itself every now and then for work that couldn’t be done online. A lot of his classes however were a breeze, he was an intelligent man, always had been, and this was a field that he had taken new interest in after everything that had happened. One could argue the killing game gave him some level of advantage that he wouldn’t have otherwise had, so that was one positive for him. Therapy was also helpful, he was able to get a far better handle on his urges than he was able to in the killing game itself, which was helpful enough.
Life continued to go well for him, he cut his hair, got more piercings, and even started wearing shirts for once in his life, though even that was still kept to a minimum. Eventually five years came and went, and Erisu and him were still plenty happy together, living a comfortable life. He even made a rather notable effort to at least be on normal terms with Erisu’s sisters, mostly in the form of being friendly and not holding too much of a grudge for the whole killing game experiment thing. It wasn’t that difficult for him to let that go though, given how his brain tended to work that way.
During this time, Byrne visited now and then, mostly while in the process to visit KOKONE, which was a rather convenient situation truthfully. Having a lot of friends in Japan meant visiting it more often, and Jae-min was happy to help the others with any costs should it have been necessary. He was still making a lot of money through shockingly advertising work. He was strong, impressive looking, and conventionally attractive, he made a great model for sports advertisements. This allowed him to stay in the sport scene, which he did eventually feel a calling to return to to some degree, and also to maintain his fanbase by capitalising on their interest in him. Not to mention surviving the killing game netted him a lot of press attention after the fact. He was by no means a small celebrity, but he kept his life with Erisu as private as possible.
He also started getting back into swimming after going through intensive therapy, and started competing competitively once again, though only as a hobby, he had no dreams of making it a career anymore. He would mostly sign up for local and city competitions for swimming races, deciding that Water Polo just wasn’t for him.
Speaking of Water Polo, Jae-min and Seung-yoon Ryu became closer than ever after he moved to Japan, staying in touch through texting mostly at first, before the other received their Ultimate title in Water Polo and decided to call it quits immediately after, having achieved the highest honour in any field. Following in his brother's footsteps, Seung-yoon moved in rather nearby to Jae-min and Erisu, and they became local friends once again, and would remain so for the rest of Jae-min’s life.
Once her house arrest ended, the two decided that they were comfortable enough with their financial situation as Jae-min graduated with his PhD and pursued work in the science field, that the two of them were ready for a second child. Another nine months passed, and Yukari was born.
Almost six years or so had passed by this point. Jae-min had done a lot, he had achieved a lot, and now with two children to his name, life was going well. Some time after Erisu was free from the burdens of her past, no longer being bound to their house, Jae-min and her got married. The marriage was unavoidably large, with his side of the family being rather loud, as well as invitations to close friends of both of them. Byrne in particular was important to have on Jae-min’s invitation list, as a thank you for inviting him out to his own wedding, but also for sticking with him through everything.
As time passed further, and the kids began to come into their own personalities, the two were just about as chaotic as one might expect from being raised by two eccentric and somewhat unhinged parents. Yukari was something of a trouble maker, they got into trouble a lot and by no means did they get along with their peers. That being said, as far as their parents were concerned, Yukari could do no wrong. This of course only enabled the child further into a somewhat delinquent-esc personality. In addition to this, they were rather sporty, which was mostly influenced by their father’s interest in the field, and Yukari found themselves taking Kendo classes in school. On the flipside, Akari was a bit of a go-getter, very reliable, good grades, and being six years older than her baby sibling, rather protective of her. She took after her mother (and aunty END) far more than she did Jae-min, and as a result was a little more down to earth than the chaos that was Yukari.
Notably, at some point in Yukari’s early life, Erik A ended up coming by to visit to meet the family and also catch up given how much time had passed since they had last met each other in person. This manifested in a rather notable event where Yukari being how they were… they bit Erik A… and in response for the sake of comedy Erik A bit Yukari’s hand in return. This of course only encouraged Yukari to bite harder, and required Jae-min to pry them off of Erik A. This thankfully didn’t ruin the trip at all, but it sure did shape the vibes for the rest of the trip. Yukari needed to effectively be child leashed around other people most of the time.
Time came and went, lives continued and life was good.Jae-min was happy. That was what mattered in the end. He was successful still, he made good money, he had a thriving fanbase and celebrity status. But most importantly, despite all of the turmoil, he married Erisu, and had two beautiful children. He was satisfied.
Oh and he also never used the name Arakiel again.
Drifting Out to Sea || Erika L Epilogue (ft. Nils)
Nils Falk is not having a good month. And it’s about to get worse.
If the senseless destruction of his precious collection wasn’t enough, in the coming weeks, he will learn of the death of his best friend. He will be spared the gory details, but it won’t soften the blow any. He will lambast himself for not checking his email sooner, for missing the last communique she ever sent until it was far too late. He will drive out into the wilderness she loved, scream at the sky, and try unsuccessfully to find closure among the chilly trees. He will cry into Linnea Ljunggren’s shoulder at the funeral, watching the burial of an empty casket (for it will not be viable to transport her broken body back home).
After the funeral, however, Nils will receive a check in the mail. A silver lining in this pitch-black stormcloud. In a somewhat curtly written letter, its sender (one Jae-min Jun) will explain that he was partly, indirectly responsible for the horrible misfortune that befell Nils’ collection. This, he says, serves as his apology. Nils won’t be sure how to feel about this initially, worrying it might be some kind of scam. He will repeatedly Google the exchange rate between won and kronor to make sure the considerable amount isn’t some mistake. But, exhausted by all the grappling he’s had to do with his insurance to squeeze even a fraction of the cost out of them, he will eventually cash the check and get to work rebuilding his collection.
Not too long after that, Nils will receive another check in the mail, and a couple packages of obsolete pro-grade video production electronics along with it. Akito Mikage will be the name listed on the return address, and he will introduce himself as another subject of that horrible experiment. One of Erika L’s new friends… as short as the time they had together was. Nils will accept his gift too, and send him a short, grateful reply in his scribbly handwriting.
Then, in a final unexpected twist, he will discover that Erika Ljunggren still exists.
Well, “exists” is one way to put it. And the ethical and philosophical debate over that may never see a satisfactory resolution. A digital ghost - an AI trained on her brain, and not even flawlessly. To some, an abhorrent prospect. But Nils will become obsessed with the idea. If he could speak to her again, say his goodbyes properly, maybe the ragged hole she left in his life will stop bleeding.
As soon as he is permitted to, Nils Falk will travel to Austria.
[music]
He will wade with the copied Erika L through the streets of the underwater city (because he is not the strongest swimmer). He will tour her new apartment. He will marvel at the modifications she’s had done to her digital form. Cosmetic patches of scales. Webbed hands and feet to swim easier in her preferred environment. Other minor tweaks to her body shape. Nils will wryly remark on the fact that they both opted to get top surgery, and Erika will just grin and shrug.
He will smile with her, because even if she sometimes struggles to speak, her smile remains as infectious as it always was. He will snap a picture of her, using a digital simulacrum of an antique camera that Weiss generates out of thin air for him, and he will later put the resulting photo in a frame on his real-world wall.
Nils will travel with Erika from the sunken city to an autumnal forest. There, he will meet her new girlfriend, another AI copy of a deceased human. Nils will fail to resist the urge to joke about cats having interest in fish. This will make Erika dissolve into uncontrollable laughter, but Greta (or Trouble, as she will introduce herself to him initially) will just glance aside in bemused exasperation and flick her tail.
He will meet some of the people who died alongside Erika in this cruel experiment. But not all of them. Erika is not on good terms with all of them, and not all of them chose to remain. A fact Nils will have to infer, given that this truth will choke out her ability to communicate again for a good half hour. He will give her a long, firm hug to help ground her (and the sensory authenticity in this virtual interaction will surprise him).
Nils will find himself comforted by the knowledge that Erika is thriving, despite her fatal accident (she will insist it was an accident, and he will pretend he does not know better). The weight of grief will begin to lift from his shoulders. He will bid her a fond farewell as their time together nears its end.
Erika L will beam and entreat him to visit again. And Nils will find himself unable to say no to that smile. Seems he still has some mourning to do.
Nils will visit Erika L in Austria again and again. It will become a tradition for him to visit just after her birthday and sometime in June each year, and they will message each other frequently via the Internet. He will bring tidings from her parents, who will find VR to be a disorienting and overstimulating experience and only visit once.
One visit, Nils will encounter a flamboyant brunette man in the halls of the Austria facility. Erik A will recognize Nils immediately, and stop him for a quick chat. He, too, was a subject, Erik A will explain. He, too, bonded with Erika L, as much due to the similar tragedies in their respective lives as it was to their shared gregariousness. Now that all is said and done, he lends his expertise to tending her afterlife. Nils will exhibit the characteristic monosyllabic shyness he greets new people with in this interaction, thoroughly failing to match Erik A’s own exuberance, but he will manage to express his gratitude nonetheless.
Another time, Nils will pass a nondescript brown-haired woman as he enters. Her dark eyes will widen a bit as she warily looks him over, and she will hurry to make her exit. Nils will innocently assume social anxiety on her part - he frequently responds to new people like that himself, after all.
Eventually, as he ages and matures, Nils will notice that Erika does not. She will remain 28 forever, frozen in time. He will start to struggle with that reality.
One day, just after Erika L would’ve turned 36 had she survived, Nils will confess his emotional quandary to Erika. His fishy friend will fall silent for a long time, laboring to find words. But eventually, ever understanding, Erika will smile and tell him he doesn’t have to keep visiting if he’s no longer comfortable.
He will come back a few more times in the subsequent years, even so, but eventually Nils will find it within him to move on. He will start to message her less, and eventually not at all. He will take the photograph of the digital Erika from his wall, and place it on her empty grave. He will go camping again, and this time the scenery will feel less hostile. He will, on a whim, take a picture of the sky and put that in the frame instead.
When robotics technology eventually advances to the point where humanoid robots can be piloted by these AIs, well into his fifth decade, Nils will brace himself to be visited by Erika’s copy. But that day will never arrive. Eventually, his curiosity will overwhelm him and he’ll contact her again. She will inform him that she prefers the digital playground, and that she doesn’t want to return to the mundane regular world. Nils will admit he understands the sentiment.
Though neither realize it at the time, this will be the last time the longtime best friends ever talk to each other.
The phantom of Erika Ljunggren will outlive her parents. She will outlive Nils, and everyone else who survived the experiment. She will outlive the digital realm’s custodian, Erick Weiss. She will continue to enjoy a robust simulation of fantastical life until outside circumstances preclude it, however many generations in the future that may be. Because no matter how bored or lonely she may find herself, she will never find it within herself to choose oblivion. She will staunchly refuse to succumb to ennui. There’s something good on the horizon, she will keep promising herself. Keep going.
Around the World, Here and Tomorrow | Adrik Epilogue
Adrik had one request when everything ended.
“I need to go to Russia.”
“But aren’t you from America—?”
“Take me to Saint Petersburg. Now.”
-
And that’s how, for the first time since their “untimely death” all those years ago, Adrik steps foot in their homeland once again. The only way they can describe it is uncanny valley. Everything is how they remember it, and yet, it’s all so wrong. Everything was the slightly wrong color, wrong signage, wrong names: that used to be an Indian restaurant, that road had two lanes, not three, and the Uber ride home was much longer.
They’re given no time to collect themselves before they’re at the doorstep of their childhood home, and it looks just like they remembered it, if they ignore the strange oppressing numbness and unease leaking through its doors and windows. Was home always this sad?
After checking to make sure they had all their things, they walked up to the front door and took a deep breath before knocking twice. They don’t know if anyone is home, so when they hear a familiar sound of shuffling, their heart leaps in their chest. Every second feels doubled as the shuffling grows louder and louder, and after what feels like forever, the door creaks open.
A tired, thin woman that resembles the mother Adrik remembers opens the door, looking her dead child in the eyes. They can’t read her emotions, and they’re grateful for it. They think it’s better they don’t know- at least, not yet.
“…Mom. It’s me. I’m home.”
-
Only an hour later, their father is here, having floored it down the highway and rushing his way home the moment he learned his child survived. There’s no dry eyes in the old Antonov house that day, and that dreadful feeling was long forgotten.
“My God, look at you! What did you do to your hair? Your face? I almost couldn’t recognize you.” Their mother’s hands pinch their cheeks, and for the first time, they laugh.
“I—“ Their father stands back slightly, still in disbelief. “That’s not what I want to know. What the hell happened to you? Where have you been?”
“It’s…” Adrik knows where to begin. It all started the night they died, right? But they don’t know where to end. In Russia, in Los Angeles, in Austria, here? They’re not the person that left Russia all those years ago, and they’re better for it, but they no longer know where AIRika ends and Adrik starts again. “…how long do you have?”
“Are you kidding? I have all the time in the word for you,” their mother says, and that settles it.
“The past few years of my life— where I’ve been, and who I was.” What a story to tell. “It started at a bar in Russia.”
And it ended at an airport in LA. Or it ended in a lab in Austria. Or it ended in a world held together by 0s and 1s. Or, maybe, it ended in an apartment in London, a house in Miami, a betrayal, a gun, a death, two, three, how many was that again, they lost count-
But even if they didn’t say it out loud, they knew how it ended. It ended with a realization of one’s wrongdoings, and how they tried to fix things, even when they had no right.
-
And the next day, Adrik held a long overdue meeting.
“Hoooly shit.”
“Nice to see you too, Ani.”
Adrik and Ani had agreed to meet in a public location, if only to force them both to behave. It’s public-ish, as in the end, there are a few things Adrik would rather keep private, but it works in a pinch— a small booth in a coffee shop tucked away in the corner, where nobody is paying attention. “Let me get this straight. After my confrontation, you crashed your car, so—“
“—they somehow thought I died and declared me dead. I wasn’t. I don’t know how they assumed that considering there wasn’t even a body, but whatever.” Adrik twirls their hair in their finger as they lean on their elbow, looking out the window. Eye contact is hard right now. “A group of people living off the grid found me. My injuries were too bad, so I just— I left— and then I went to the US to clear my head.”
“You. You left the fucking country? On God? You’re a dumbass, actually. You’re a huuuuuge dumbass.”
“Yep! If me cheating on you didn’t prove it, I make really, really stupid decisions sometimes. Cheating was the second dumbest, with the first being, well, that.” Only a few months ago, they’d never admit to their mistakes, let alone confront them. “I changed my name, decided to cash in on the whole Erika thing, and spent all my money making myself look like a new man. I was so good at it, I even tricked myself into thinking I was this new person.”
They finally build the confidence to look at Ani, only to see the most bewildered expression they’ve ever seen on a human. She pinches the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh, laughing. “Wow. Yeah. You’re just— you’re fucking crazy. You’re alive, but are you okay?”
“…Noooo! I’m sillay,” they say, emphasizing the “a”.
“What the fuck is sillay? Who am I kidding, it doesn’t matter. I was talking about the message I got about you.” Ani frowns. “I don’t like you, but I’m glad you’re not dead. I’m really glad you’re alive, actually. I don’t even hate you. I should, but I don’t.” She pauses to try and look them in the eye, and they meet her gaze— it’s the least they can do after everything. “…What did you get yourself into?”
It takes Adrik a moment to reply. In that time, their eyes move to the ring on her finger, her nails tapping on the table, and then back to her eyes. There’s a fire in them they’ve only seen once before, but this time, it isn’t directed at them.
“I have nothing to lose from being honest, right? It’s the least I can do.”
For the second time since arriving in Russia, they tell their story. They know where it starts, but the ending is still uncertain. Does it even have an end? Are they still living that story? They push those thoughts aside to focus on the words on their tongue, instead, finally giving Ani the long-deserved truth.
-
They spend a month back in Russia, tying up their loose ends. They’re quick to make themselves legally known, and after hours upon hours of questioning combined with DNA testing, Adrik is deemed… Adrik. They don’t know the specifics, but their “death” is undone and they’re finally able to get their documents back. Once again, they’re Adrik Antonov— this time for good.
They kept the spectacle out of the public eye as much as humanly possible, and to their credit, nobody pursued the story as heavily as they did their death. They were able to spend their time rebuilding their relationship with their parents and preparing themselves for whatever comes next.
Only a week before their flight to LA, while leaving the passport office, they find something under the rental car— a crusty little orange tabby, mewling for food. Since when did they feel pity? It’s deja vu. They take the cat in, name him Sunny, and make the long flight back with a new companion in hand.
Once they made it back to LA, they got to work. First, they cleaned up their apartment and decorated it with all the kitten supplies they’d ever need. Second, they finally, finally got an appointment with a therapist— as well as a psychiatrist, just to be safe.
Third, they dyed their hair back to blue in the shower, staring at themselves in the mirror the entire time as a ghost of the past possessed them. AIRika wasn’t looking back at them anymore. They were dead. Was this their second death?
It’s new, it’s old, and it’s mostly scary, but it’s the greatest feeling in the world.
-
Adrik didn’t understand relationships back then, they didn’t during the game, and they still don’t now. They don’t understand the feelings of fear, anguish, horror, and pain they went through. Isn’t love supposed to be a wonderful thing? Where were the butterflies in the stomach, the fleeting touches, and the little joys? When did it turn into secret messages, explosive paranoia, tear soaked pillows and a gun in their hands? Hiding their fears from one partner, because they all center around the other? Why did their heart beat so fast?
They hold their heart in their hands. It pumps. They feel the trigger. Squeeze. Press. What would’ve happened if they—
“I feel crazy. I think I’m crazy,” they told their therapist. “I was crazy. Maybe I still am. I was starting to lose myself. And if either of them died, I think I would’ve too. Don’t know what I would’ve done. Maybe I would’ve started a new life somewhere, never get close to people again. I’ll play with a different kind of fire. I’ll burn because I want to. Nobody else can burn me.” The words leave their mouth freely. “Am I crazy? Get it over with and tell me I’m crazy.”
They’re told they’re not crazy. They’re normal to feel this way. It was the only normal thing about Adrik, but they were grateful for it. They were finally validated by someone on the outside. It gives them much to think about, though, and they’re faced with a series of decisions: What do you do after such a heartbreak? Can they really recover from this? How do you rebuild trust with someone?
That’s why they’re surprised when they agree to continue the relationship— albeit with a break, and a promise to take things much slower than before. Even with the pace, they’re promised a safe place in Miami and London. They’re surprised to be held, cherished, and loved after everything, even if it isn’t in the same way.
They wait for things to fall apart again. They wait for the paranoia to settle in, the secrets to unravel, and for their next explosion. But… everything is fine. They go the way they want them to. It’s by no means perfect, and they still have their moments, but everything finally starts to settle.
They even move to Miami to be closer to Erik A, first moving into their own place before settling in with him after some more time passes, and make frequent trips to London to see Akito. They take things slow, knowing they need the space to actually learn who they are and what they want out of this, but it works out. They almost can’t believe it, but here they were, reaching their thirties and surrounded by friends and family, new and old, close and far. Some are old, like Kenshin and Byrne, and others are new as they finally start to meet people. They travel around the world, real and virtual, and it’s nice. It’s different from when they traveled the country to perform, and they liked it.
They went from being all alone to having friends in little pockets all throughout the world. It makes them feel sappy, and sick, but in the way one feels after eating too much sugar, a sweet sickliness. They think they like it.
-
Tap. Adrik presses a button on their phone and starts recording. “I wanted something new, so I killed AIRika. The act was getting stale anyways.”
There was silence from “AIRika” for over a year, until suddenly, an announcement was made by Soaring Skies:
The Amazing Angel, AIRika, will now be operating under the stage name Phoenix. The theming and choreography has been altered to reflect this new era. They also will no longer be participating in tours, and will only perform in special ticketed events. Thank you for your continued patronage.
They retired from touring to settle down in Miami, but more importantly, to focus on themselves. They still practiced everyday, installing another rig in their new home, but it wasn’t as intense. Even with the new aesthetics, full of bright colors and sparkles, it was more calm than before. They liked it that way.
“But I’m really just me, Adrik. You know the deal.” A laugh leaves their lips, and they speak out loud as they write. “My therapist was onto something when he said to journal your thoughts. I have a place to put everything. It’s funny to listen to the early entries. I was so fucked up. RIP Bozo.” They pause. “Literally, I had so much wrong with me, but whatever. I’m not fine now, and I never will be, but I’m getting close.”
They stop again for a second, hesitant, but they move on. “Death has always been a weird thing for me. I should probably fear it, right? But I just don’t. It’s hard when death doesn’t really feel permanent. I mean, I technically died, and I guess so did AIRika, but here I am. And then, I look at the people who ‘died’ all those years ago. Like, are they dead? How dead are you if the brain lives on, and if your memory remains?”
A sigh is drawn from their lips.
“I don’t know. I’m not religious, and even if I was, I know where I’d end up. But how does it all work, souls and memories and death? I thought about it a lot when Cosette died, and years later, I still don’t know. I almost hope there’s an afterlife, so that they can eat all the crepes and live their best life, but that’s all it is- hope.
I’d like a happy ending. Not for me, but for the people that deserve it. The world doesn’t work like that, though, and you can lose everything at any moment. Sucks to suck, but what can we do?
I guess, what I’m trying to say is…”
Adrik can’t beat around the bush any longer, can they? They know it’s dumb to hide their true thoughts this way.
“I don’t fear death. Despite everything, I don’t fear death. I think the grim reaper and I would get along great. I attract dramatic broods, right? But all jokes aside, it’s hard to ever envision me dying.
Physically, I’ll go at some point. Hopefully of old age, but maybe something else. Who knows? But it’s hard to fear death when I know that even when I’m gone from this world, reduced to bones or ashes or whatever they do to me, people will remember me. They’ll remember the good, the bad, and the ugly, but they’ll actually remember me. People will say my name, tell my stories, and keep my memory alive. And when they go, their children will remember me, and then theirs, and it’ll probably last a few generations before I really, really die. Yeah, dying sucks, and I hope it waits for me. I have a few things I still need to do before I go. I’m not afraid, though. It’s stupid to live in fear of something like that.
So, indulge in the people you love, treat yourself, and make a life worth remembering. Change yourself into the person you want to be, no matter how far gone you think you are. I still can’t believe people had faith in me, but they did… and now here I am! Decent-ish!” They finally laugh. “This is getting long, and sappy, and I don’t like it. I’m ending this here. Okay? Okay, bye~”
They end the recording before it becomes more rambles about life, and death, and the weird spaces between it. It’s exhausting contemplating that. They flop back on to the bed with a little huff, rolling their head to the side and checking the time: 11 o’clock. Nobody would be home for a bit.
“Guess I should get up and do something, huh? I have the whoooole day ahead of me.”
After the immediate conclusion of initial evacuations, Erika, Erica, and Erisu are taken into custody for both protection and to receive their cooperation on information that would aid in taking down the Erika Foundation while also remaining under constant surveillance and house arrest for the foreseeable future. After a long-fought 5 years of legal battles and raids of offices, the central figures of Erika Foundation are ultimately taken down, with operations ceasing even as a small number of less central employees manage to escape authorities. Research supplies and technology the group used are confiscated and either distributed, hoarded, or destroyed on a case-by-case basis.
Those who had active favors purchased from tokens still receive their promised gifts in the end, though there is a delay depending on how extensive the favor was. Those who want to have their translation chips removed are seamlessly able to do so without medical complications, and the expenses for this are covered in full.
As for the dead, there was a long-embroiled fight between Weiss and multiple world governments for him to keep custody of the AI. But given his position as a specialist and creator of the software and other assistance, the fight was ultimately a successful one. The dead are fully informed of their existence as AI born from biological memory and personality scans not actively attached to brains any longer, and they are granted the choice to either have their data completely wiped to end their existence, OR to continue their current form by existing in the VR space as AI. The VR system is actively updated by Weiss when he has the chance, and requests made by those living in the system (in terms of areas and assets) are completed at a relaxed pace when the option is available, with occasional help by others given access to assist with certain features.
Those who wish to directly visit those deceased may travel to a location in Austria to use VR equipment under Weiss’s supervision, or after some time are given VR equipment to use themselves that can only be accessed with explicit permission from Weiss himself, but are more convenient to use.. Robot bodies are not a viable visitation alternative for roughly twenty more years in the future, in 2062, when the AI programs have the ability to port their systems into robots and explore the world as a mostly-normal human would, though there are a high amount of regulations put into place about most aspects of this.
It would seem that AION's creator, Satoru Nagase, the Ultimate Robotics Engineer, was largely kept out of the public press about the incident over the years, but has assisted in testifying against many members of EF where needed with the data he'd collected over the years from them. He was ultimately given protection and his own close surveillance not unlike house arrest, but otherwise still managed to retain control of AION productions and regulations, striving once more to not let a repeat of an AION being used to assist in harmful situations again. It would seem that he's contactable to a few of the survivors that would seek him out though, at least, and is willing continue work in helping a variety of things in his field as long as it follows the moral code he's set out. AION units themselves continue to be used, and though you can’t imagine it’s the same one that you knew in your experiment... every time you see one, their care and respect for you is reminiscent of the jailbroken one you were familiar with.
After full government investigations into the HPGB, which had apparently began even before your rescue as public outcry had initially stirred up trouble in their direction, the board was found to have nothing to do with the incident. Still, given it stemmed from former employees no matter how far in the past, Miguel Galicio personally offered to cover any therapy sessions the survivors required if they requested them. HPGB’s name isn’t quite as clean and universally admired as it once was, but no legal or ethical fault fell upon them and operations resumed as normal.
After the initial intrusion made by foreign operatives to rescue you and arrest others left Austrian forces entirely out of the equation and their government uncontacted for this affair, however, political tensions are high between the countries involved occurs and Austria places sanctions on a few governments as a result. The sanctions end after a few years, though tensions remain for a good decade.
Any further questions about the state of the world for the purpose of epilogues can be directed to mods!
“Phew.” Akito’s shoulders sag in relief. “We have time, at least. I’m sure we’re all exhausted, but the grind isn’t completely over. Can we talk about how to help the dead? I would also like to request for any information on the other AI currently inhabiting the VR. They may not be as recently deceased, but with so many having gone missing before, their loved ones deserve some closure of their own.”
Weiss cleared his throat, raising a shaky and glazed-over gaze towards Akito. He lifted his hand to draw attention, only to quickly lower it back to the armrest of his wheelchair. Simply an action that small was enough to be laborious as he was then.
“I can set up-eck…” He stopped mid-sentence to continue clearing his throat, clearly hoarse and a bit on the dehydrated side. He took in another breath. “I can… start the process. For…. transferring data but… The… other AI. The… older ones. I do not… want to hand those over to people willy-nilly. In the wrong hands it could… be problematic. They also… are not quite the same… as those who died here.”
He paused in his speech to cough a few times, during which Akito had nodded his understanding.
“Though… I may need some help. With typing and… plugging things in at the moment. If anyone handy with coding and computers is willing to assist.” Weiss concluded.
Right away, nearly before Weiss had finished speaking, a certain tech savvy twink raised a hand, while also being mindful of his rib situation by not making it overly-enthusiastic.
"Pretty sure I'm qualified for that, last I checked! I'm Erik A by the way, in case that wasn't obvious. And also, I'm sure as hell not going to let the FBI and whoever else get their grubby hands on this without it being my personal oversight regardless," he says cheerfully in a room filled with FBI agents and a smile on his face as he glances towards them. His beloathed <3 "Not to mention, I'd wanna be here to help negotiate things there anyhow, because I agree full stop with Weiss on the access point for any of em regardless, not gonna lie. I think I’d make a pretty good representative."
Weiss gave a nod of approval. It may have been a short amount of time that they had known each other, but it was long enough to at least determine Erik A meant the dead no harm.
“Very well. It will likely take… two or three days to transfer all of the data… so we will need to stay behind a little longer– ech– than the others, if that is acceptable. You can come pick us… and anyone else who volunteers, up in a few days time.”
Kenshin flashes a small little wave as well. “If you need any more help, I’m here. Guess I should introduce myself too, Kenshin Tanji. While I’m not exactly as qualified as Erik-“ Gestures. “-I still do know a lot about programming due to being a game dev. Coding and computers, whatever skills you need, I should have. But hey, anything to help you out, I don’t mind having to stay a few more days.” A glance to a couple people, smiling softly. “I’ll be back soon enough.”
To both Weiss and Kenshin, Erik A gives a little thumbs up! A team...
Another hand is raised, coming from the pink-haired programmer in the room. “I can help if it’s anything to do with programming!” Noelle pauses. “Though I get it if I’m not, like, part of you all, so I’ll just be on standby if you need me. I want to explore this place too!”
Ah… Alright. Weiss placed his hand on his chin, lost in thought for a few moments over the additional volunteers.
“By all means, I will take Kenshin… on the team. However, miss… I do not know your name. Pardon me, but we have… never met and this is sensitive data. I would rather not hand over control…. to someone I have not met. Perhaps you should focus on… the evacuation efforts instead?”
That was…. Reasonable, most likely? Nonetheless, the assembled team of volunteers began their work, with Weiss giving instruction to Kenshin and Erik A to gather supplies and relocate.
Finally, it was time to go. Everyone had packed up what remained of their possessions, and those who wished to depart in the first crowd brought their belongings up to the helipad, prepped to go. Some were given the opportunity to stay another two or three days to wrap up whatever work they still needed done in the facility first, but the remaining survivors were ultimately all lifted out to civilization within the first week of your savior’s arrival.
It was a three-hour flight to make it to a city in Austria. One with an airport. Of course, before you were free to go, each participant was subjected to light questioning regarding the incident for the sake of finalizing the government reports, as well as mandatory medical checkups and assistance to those of you who needed it for your various wounds as well, with arrangements for possible future follow ups as wanted for both that and the implants you had within your brain. With the aid of the FBI and Akito’s tiny team, all of your plane tickets to get home were compensated, no matter where you lived or how far away it might have been.
Until once again, you made it home. Back in your own city, with your own connections, expected to resume your life as if nothing had happened before that month-long emotional journey you’d just taken.
The fall leaves were browning and reaching the ground.
Over half a day ago, you stood in this very hallway, staring down at Erisu’s supposedly-dead body. Flanked by two different government agencies, and the ragtag duo of operatives who had led them into the facility, you watched the dorm elevator descend to the floor where a very alive Erisu was presumably waiting with her sisters.
It wasn’t either of the three who first greeted you, however. You only caught a quick glimpse of the bespectacled brown-haired girl when she turned around in surprise at your arrival, before Akito strided forward to embrace her with a genuine sob of relief.
There were no words exchanged between the pair. Enough was communicated in the way Akito bawled into Kristi’s shoulder, one of the few times he could let himself cry, and she clung onto him with teary eyes of her own. The waking nightmare that plagued them for months was finally over.
The other four, you found to be in the room with the cells rather than hanging out in the hallway, with all three glass cages with their doors opened and unlocked. An at present was using her arm to support Weiss’s back as he was arising from his coma, though Weiss was clearly displeased with the physical touch. Erisu seemed tired, spending most of her energy on trying to stop her past plans from coming to fruition. Hands wrapped tightly together, she watches Weiss from afar, rather glad her brother is now awake. Calluna, meanwhile, seemed to be in the process of reading a wheelchair beside them both, face uncharacteristically serious and contemplative, even if the details at a quick glance seemed too mixed to tell the emotions behind it.
An raised her head as the door was practically busted in by the sheer amount of people marching into the room, unamused by the entry. She sighed with distaste, clicking her tongue first and foremost before she raised her voice to respond.
“Wow, sure is a whole lot of you barging in on a private sibling moment, huh? How tactless. Wow there sure is… about as many of you here as there was when we first started this shebang, huh?”
An flicked her eyes to the gun holsters on some of the new arrivals’ hips, before slowly transferring Erick to a wheelchair she’d already brought beside the cot, largely ignoring the threat for now. Not that she needed to wait long for Akito to interject, as well.
"I'll consider barging in as payback for trying to get me executed. Before anything else, how aware are the Erika Foundation about what’s happened here in the...” Akito glances at his phone, wincing. “The last twenty hours since Yuletide first hacked into your system?”
Calluna eyes Akito for a moment before responding as though there isn’t the unseen threat of holstered firearms within the room, not bothering with her usual fake smile this time even if she seemed to stay calm and collected.
“Within that frame of time? They’re aware of the initial compromisation to some degree, I would imagine, but given the feed we had on our end has been shut off ever since the second incident at the end of your last trial, I would not be surprised if the feed on their end of this facility was similarly stopped at that point, especially given there weren’t any sudden messages from those above us as things went further off the rails. Though they may not know the specifics, I imagine our father would certainly suspect something to be gravely amiss already.”
“Rats. And here I was, hoping we could pretend everything was business as usual for a few days. Alright, how much time or freedom do we have now? Is the Foundation just going to pretend that your Kaleidoscope Project no longer exists, or should we be prepared for them to make sure of it?” Because Akito wouldn’t put it past them to have some sort of contingency plan for failures like this.
Calluna hums. "Likely the former. It seems that external access to the emergency destruction function on this facility has been already cut, as has the internal route we hadn't been previously aware of now as well, thankfully. But if you're asking if in person reinforcements will be sent, I find it unlikely they would directly contest...," her eyes flick between the collection of uniforms here, "Presumably, multiple governments, least of all if they end up turning to satellite data."
