The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

"It's... again, not an exact science, but it's possible to do a great deal at the time of Induction itself to influence future malleability," Samium continued. "For example, to begin with the foreign and native pneumas completely separate, but to have connections form very easily should the person desire it, thus giving them greater agency in the evolution of their ultimate state of consciousness..." He wheezed a little, his voice further straining. "But even then, those modifications level out to become all but irrelevant after a few decades compared to the natural growth of the mind itself. Of course, I did not pursue that in your case at all, since your mental state seemed to be unstable... And now, further modification would be flatly impossible. Your pneuma cannot be altered directly. I would have thought... Nnngh... That this information would be relatively easy to obtain, even considering the aforementioned regulations around the topic."

I stared at him.

"Though, considering your perspective, where even foundational knowledge is difficult to confirm or deny absolutely... I suppose it's understandable that you might have misunderstood," he stated. "But it really does only boil down to those three techniques. Creation, movement, and repair. And there is much to be said about each, but--" Another cough, this time with a little drool rolling down the side of his lip. "...but nothing applicable to one who has already been fully initiated."

My face had gone pale. I opened my mouth, but couldn't speak.

"Though even if a means were discovered to interface with the pneuma directly... Which I suppose is not out of the question, should progress in the scholarship ever resume... Such a thing would probably still not be possible. After all, even though we have no limitations to altering the physical brain, it is not as if we can make targeted modifications to memory and personality through surgery. At least, not to anywhere close to the level you seem to be... hoping for." He swallowed, taking a deep breath. "By now, there will be nothing to distinguish the two portions of your mind from prior to Induction. Two bowls of fluid, once combined, cannot be distinguished. Only crudely filtered."

"I'm sorry if that isn't what you want to hear," he continued, after a moment. "...but, it's for that very reason that I say that you shouldn't view your own psyche in such binary terms. Despite any predispositions, your mind is still ultimately a gestalt... Of your native and foreign ego. And again, more importantly, the mind is fluid. You can--" A sharp, quick cough, almost sounding like a sneeze. "...conceptualize yourself in whatever way you wish. If you want to see yourself exclusively as Utsushikome of Fusai, then you can approach the situation like ridding yourself of any preoccupation, delusion, or unwelcome thought... If you wish, I can recommend you several books on meditation, mindfulness, or some specialists in cognitive behavioral therapy..."

"You're just saying the same stuff as they said at the end of my assimilation treatment," I said, my tone distant.

"Well... Unlike the glorified hypnosis and electroshock therapy in the treatment plan itself, it's sound advice," he claimed. "Of course, such methods aren't always effective. Some people are simply too self-conscious. But in that instance, as I said, time itself can be enough. Cling to the feelings and memories you value most, and the rest will dull, or else at least become uniformly distant." He closed his eyes for a moment, groaning. "...or failing that, I've also seen sufferers of assimilation failure with similar preoccupations find some success with hallucinogens, which can vastly accelerate the formation of synaptic connections--"

"Hallucinogens." I spoke very quietly, with an undertone of bitter, detached amusement. "You're telling me the solution is to take psychedelic drugs."

He frowned slightly. "Well, I wouldn't say 'solution'... It's one of many things you could try to bring you closer to the state of mind you wish for, or at least to bring you some comfort in my situation."

This can't be happening, I thought. No, no.

It can't end like this.

"I a-already said," I told him, my voice cracking. "My comfort doesn't matter."

"That's--"

"No-- No, there must be something you're not saying," I insisted, looking into his eyes for any sign of deception or restraint. "There must be something you can try. Some experimental process. You said you can't amend a pneuma further after Induction, but you could still attach it to another pneuma, couldn't you? Couldn't you, I don't know... Create some kind of artificial one designed specifically to fix this, then remove my pneuma and affix it to it, then affix the result back?"

Samium made an uncomfortable chuckle, this time more under the usual definition of 'uncomfortable' rather than one associated with physical pain. "Er, well... I'm not sure you realize how many impossible suggestions you've just made in the course of a single sentence." He coughed, more mildly this time. He seemed to be doing a little better now that he was getting into the swing of speaking. "For one thing, there's no way to extract a pneuma without destroying the brain. I recall telling you that back then... So going 'back and forth' in the manner you describe is impossible. One also cannot perform Induction without one pneuma being already anchored to a physical body."

"Y-You could clone my current body, couldn't you?" I inquired frantically. "I know Zeno did that, with the body he used when we were doing our presentations-- He made a copy of his original body. You could do that, then attach the artificed pneuma designed to fix things, then mine, or something like that?"

"You're not..." He hesitated, looking to the side. "My understanding is what Professor Apocyrion does is based on remote control of the body. Remember that the Power cannot affect the brain. Your body could be replicated, but not it... Meaning that an altogether new human brain would need to be somehow grown or obtained in this scenario, which would then have its own incomplete pneuma, which would then be completed by the affixation of this, um, hypothetical artificial one you seem to have contrived, which would mean further Induction would then become impossible--"

"What if you made a copy of my pneuma, instead?!" I demanded. "I-Isn't that what they did to get all the ones normally used for Induction, with all the people they couldn't take during the collapse? Then you could attach that to a new body, and..." I flinched, frowning. "No, wait, that doesn't work... Rather, you could modify the copy directly! Change it so that Shiko is all that's left, and then just get rid of this one so that nobody would know!"

Samium stared at me in alarm for several seconds, probably not knowing what to say at my descent into complete fantasy. At this point, I was reaching so far beyond established science that I might as well as well have been asking him to brew me a magic elixir to transmogrify me into a cat. It could no longer even be called desperate. It was just stupid.

Briefly, I saw something odd in his expression. Almost a trace of bitterness and anger, but not towards me.

"Erm..." He reached over to one of the tubes attached to his mouth and neck area, pressing a button. Fluid flowed up towards his mouth, and he groaned softly, thinking. "...while it would be hypothetically possible to wholesale clone an existing pneuma, and then use it to perform an Induction... The former part of that feat has not been accomplished since the Imperial Era, when one could still use iron." He managed to raise a hand to rub his eyes. "But, even could it be so... As I said, we could no more resculpt an Inducted pneuma to any very specific end then we can resculpt the brain with a scalpel. Nor is your suggestion of an 'artificed pneuma' designed for such an effect remotely realistic even in abstract, for much the same reason."

I just stared.

"Perhaps it was irresponsible of me to even list that as a third function of Egomancy," he continued, "as I have only even participated in such endeavors a dozen times in my life as part of an experiment with the Order itself. Almost all of my research was focused on the transport element. The perfection of what I used to extract your pneuma to begin with... The callosum proxy and brane anchor. Or star-key, as my colleagues called it in reference to its distinctive shape. An artifice used to isolate a specific pneuma independent of a body indefinitely, and make it possible to examine. Vastly broadening our--" Another cough. "...agency over the Ironworkers system of random allocation, or cruder workarounds..."

"Star-key," I muttered, remembering his use of the term 12 years ago.

"Mm," he said, with a stiff nod. "...but in any case, such details are ephemeral, because even were that not the case... A copy would not be you." He hesitated. "That is to say... Even if you might feel otherwise, there is still an unbroken chain that exists between your current self and the 'Utsushikome of Fusai' who was born three decades past. Much more so than for your, well, other identity... Doing what you're describing while killing the 'you' in front of me would be the opposite of what you seem to want. Of 'saving' your pre-induction self."

I shook my head, feeling like I was going to be sick. "No, there has to be something you can do. Something to try."

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

It felt like my mind had run up against a wall. "No, it... I... I've been looking for you for eight years. I only-- I only got into the medical arcana at all so I could find where the hell you went!" My eyes welled with tears. "And I... Ran, she..." I shook my head sharply. "You're supposed to be able to fix this!"

Samium's eyes widened. "...you chose your entire career path... Just for a chance to have this conversation?"

I nodded weakly, once again feeling barely able to look at him. It wasn't the full truth - obviously the fact that Shiko had wanted to become a healer herself had also contributed, since I'd wanted to leave her life in as good a state as I could - but if I'd known it would end like this, I definitely would never have gone further than basic arcane training in Oreskios.

"I don't know what to say," he said distantly. "Again, I'm truly sorry. I should have gone out of my way to speak to you properly after what happened to █ █ █ █ █. Perhaps this could have been avoided, and you'd have settled in to a better state of mind--"

"How many times do I have to say that I'm not the one who matters?!" I yelled, the words coming between sobs. "Why are you acting like I'm just some unfortunate bystander?! I murdered her! Worse than murdered!" My face twisted into a scowl. "I stole her entire life! Invaded her mind like some storybook monster! And I didn't even let the people who love her grieve, because I took the 'her' that exists in their minds and replaced it with myself!"

Samium was silent, casting his eyes towards the foot of the bed sadly.

"And you helped me do it," I continued, my teeth gritted. "You-- You just went along with it, just to help your friend feel better! And now you're just telling me I need to get over it? That the only thing I can do is try mushrooms, or some shit? Don't you have any fucking shame?! Don't you understand how I feel?!"

At this point, I'd lost nigh-on all restraint and was just outright yelling at him. It was a good thing the voices from out in the courtyard seemed to have stopped, because if they were still there, there was a good chance they'd have been able to make some of it out.

"I did say... that I regret it," Samium spoke tiredly.

His reply was so unstated, so patient in tone, that it took the wind out of my sails a bit. I sniffed, taking off my glasses and staring at his dying face through puffy eyes.

Several moments passed. Some large sea creature moved though the water beyond the bioenclosure, its long oval torso cutting off the light from the Everblossom.

"I'm sorry for--" Another muted cough. He slowed the pace of his speech slightly. "...the guilt that you carry with you. I wish I could say something of meaningful comfort beyond that you are not accountable for the actions of your prior self."

You really don't understand, I wanted to say. Maybe you think it's okay to use some contrivance of perspective to deny reality. But I remember what was in my heart on the day I first contacted you, and on the day we met in that office building. And for the months and months after that.

The anger. The longing. The perverse anticipation and excitement. The joy and fulfillment.

Memory is self, and self is responsibility. And those feelings burn more brightly than anything else, in either life, before or since.

But I again remembered his shift in attitude before and after the Induction, and I knew it was pointless. I looked down at my hands, my eyes bleary.

"When you first spoke to me, back then, over the logic bridge and then in that office building..." I began, my tone bleak, "you were revolted then, weren't you? At my actions."

Samium was silent for a moment. "...I wouldn't say revolted," he said. "I will admit, I thought lowly of you because of how you were betraying someone I knew had been your friend for what seemed at first like a cynical desire for material gain. But ultimately... The more I spoke to you, the more I simply found your feelings and motives incomprehensible and disquieting. And yet at the same time, I sensed there was something in you similar to myself... It was an off-putting feeling."

I listened to him silently.

"Yet, still, what I thought of primarily was that you were a stroke of good fortune," he went on. "I was desperate, at the time, for my last memories with █ █ █ █ █ not to be ones of grief and sorrow, and yet he spent more and more days singularly focused on that girl... It felt as though both our lives were ending in a tragedy. And when I'd tried to reach out to Utsushikome directly..." He hesitated, shifting. "Pardon. You'd of course recall that yourself."

I nodded distantly. Prior to my attempt at contacting him, Samium had made an attempt to reach out me-- To Utsushikome directly, giving her a little information about her distinction treatment and how it related to her grandfather (though not the whole story; he'd only told her that he'd based her appearance on Wen as some sentimental act, rather than his far more disturbing actual intent) and had pleaded with her to consider acting out the role a little in exchange for securing her a place in pretty much any university on the continent.

But she'd just been creeped out and rejected the whole thing out of hand like a normal person.

"Primarily, I didn't want to look a gift horse--" He coughed, mostly through his nose. "...in the mouth. So, I avoided thinking about it deeply... Or about my own actions." He sighed. "Of course, what I did was wrong. I was so fixated... On that man, that I thought of nothing else but finding a way to repay my debt to him. I did not think about what he would truly want were he fully himself, much less about you in either sense."

"You're talking like you were in love with him," I said.

He snorted, letting out a wheezing laugh. "Perhaps you could call it that." He once again pushed the button for water, letting his head sink deeper into the pillow. "In the end, I only bought him a few months of false happiness... A poor bargain. At times, I even think he realized my deception, before he worsened in those final days." He looked towards the ceiling. "To that effect, I can't decide if I prefer to imagine he believed he'd at last reached his goal at the very end, or if he was simply putting on a smile for my own feelings one last time."

I was silent, staring into the middle distance. My mind felt emptied. I had nothing left to say.

"In any... case," he said, with another heavy breath, "if you feel that blame ought to be placed, you should direct it at me, not yourself. Regardless of what you were truly thinking, you were just a disturbed child-- Are still just a child, really. I'm the one who... Ought to have known better." He made an awkward smile. "If it would give you some comfort, I'd offer you revenge, but I fear it might create more trouble for you then it's worth. And I'm afraid there wouldn't be--" he cleared his throat sharply, "--much life left to take."

I looked up at him again; this man who had once given me everything I wanted in the world. Emaciated as he was, laid out in this bed with endless lines of bronze and cloth woven into his patchwork body, he looked almost more like a halfway-mummified corpse than a complete person.

Even though I'd seen him as a source of salvation once, he was now giving me nothing that I wanted. The one person in the world who knew the whole truth, and yet, he wouldn't judge me. My last hope to save Shiko, except he didn't have a single fresh suggestion. It was honestly a more pitiful anticlimax than I'd ever imagined.

Yet, I couldn't feel much of anything towards him at all.

"If you want to redeem yourself in some way--"

"I don't care about myself or my feelings," I repeated yet again, my voice close to a whisper. "I just want Shiko to be able to be happy."

"...well... The best way to accomplish that would be to find happiness yourself," he said, his tone almost pitying. "Since you're in the state you are, rather than continuing to live in the shadow of the your life before Induction, perhaps it would be better to distance yourself from it and move somewhere for a fresh start. In the old days I would suggest the Lower Planes, but perhaps you could... Go to the Duumvirate, or one of the new colonies in the Empyrean that the Alliance has been planning. Change your name--"

"I would absolutely never do that," I interrupted, with a cold firmness. "I would never in a million years hurt Utsushikome's friends or family by hijacking her life into something she'd never want."

Samium frowned. "I see... Don't you think you're being a little... Cruel to yourself?" A machine again made some clicking noises as he seemed to struggle with a breath. "From what you've told me, you've spent over a decade living with nothing but this goal in mind. Surely, if you've reached a conclusion... You've earned the right to act for yourself."

"I haven't earned anything," I said. "I don't even know if I've really felt any guilt. Maybe I've just been acting on Shiko's feelings this whole time, and my true self is just as disgusting as ever."

He hesitated uncomfortably. "W-Well, as I twice said... There are many things you can do to shift your self-perceptions. If I might ask, are you in any way medicated at present...? I'm not certain you're thinking wholly rationally."

He's seriously asking me if I'm taking anti-depressants at a time like this, I thought to myself, almost darkly amused at the absurdity of it all. And talking about 'thinking rationally'.

He really will just never understand.

Why did I come here?

Why did I delude myself into thinking things could be any different?

"If there's no way to save Utsushikome," I said definitively, "then I'm not going to just keep living her life."

Samium opened his mouth as if to speak in reply, but then seemed to understand my implication, and stopped suddenly, closing his mouth. He looked troubled, letting out a resigned groan, then shifting his body slightly. He looked off towards my right, towards the bookshelf.

"...on that shelf there," he said, inclining his head, "on the third-from-bottom row, there should be a wooden box. Go ahead and bring it over, if you would."

I almost didn't want to bother. He'd already answered my question, and part of me wanted to just leave rather than spend any more time listening to his hollow platitudes. But I had nowhere else to go. I was completely unprepared - had actively avoided thinking about - what was next after I left this room. What would I say to Ran? How would I pretend things were normal in front of the others for the rest of the weekend? Was there any point in even pretending?

I stood up, headed for the shelf, and located the box he mentioned easily. I slid it out, carrying it back to the chair.

"You can go ahead and open it," Samium said. "Take a look."

I did as much. Inside was a very, very peculiar book. At first I thought It was already open, but then I realized there was no cover at all and the spine had a strange, vertically-segmented design, in addition to being made of metal. I flipped it around a little, idly looking through the parchment.

"...oh," I said. "This is one of those manuscripts Ran was talking about...?"

Samium coughed, attempting to lean his head and look up at what I was doing. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, uh, just this morning my friend was telling me about this rumor that there were these circular books developed by Egomancers a long time ago," I explained. "That you could use to trigger some sort of mental paradox, or something... That reading them over and over again elicits some change in your mind."

"Mm, sounds like the sort of exaggerated folklore I'd expect for something like this, I suppose," Samium said. "But no, there's a little truth there. They do originate from the days that subjects like Egomancy and Pneumenology were very popular - back in the Second Resurrection - but they're more akin to self-hypnosis than anything. The concept, to the best of..." He coughed. "--my understanding, is that they're supposed to place the mind in a place of such tranquility, that one can enter a trance-state of intense mental malleability... A sort of conscious lucid dreaming, so to speak. Where one can see ones own mind from the outside and alter it as one sees fit."

I nodded along distantly, flipping through it idly like it was some magazine at a doctor's office. Is this about the Epic of Gilgamesh too? Ugh.

"This one was created by a member of the Order, and gifted to me some time ago... I'd intended to leave it here with my passing, but I have no great affection for these people after what they did to your grandfather, so I see no reason for you not to have it instead." His voice was growing a strained again, probably because of the change in position. "Apparently, this one deals one with the suppression of memory. But it supposedly takes... Mhm, a very long time to learn how to reach the state in question. I read it many, many times and accomplished little... But perhaps you could get something out of it. Though they made it sound as though the most it can do is trigger the mind's own mechanisms for sealing away memory, as is the case of trauma, meaning the results are predominantly crude and temporary."

So it's basically useless for what I want even in the event it's not all just pointless mysticism, I thought. Why is he even giving me this? Just so I'll have more false hope? "I see," I said.

"...there are some other books on the shelf about Egomancy more explicitly... You can take those too, if you like. You won't find any answers, but perhaps it would bring you comfort to see the underlying concepts--" A more hoarse cough. "...explained properly, so you have an independent understanding. Though, they are proscribed literature, so you will need to be very careful."

I was barely even listening now. My eyes found themselves stuck to a random page in the tome. Gilgamesh was fishing in a river with Enkidu. They were talking about a time they'd been in a fishing contest. Each of them was talking happily about the fish they'd caught. It was strangely relaxing.

"...if you don't mind me asking," Samium spoke again after I failed to respond, "how did you come to know I was here? The Order is supposed to be keeping it secret." He snorted. "Though, I suppose they've become rather poor at that of late."

"O-Oh..." I blinked, still reading as I answered. "Uh, I spoke to another of my grandfather's friends a while ago. Autonoe of Koranthia. I remembered you called her on that night when I first saw you, so I thought she'd be a good lead..." My tone grew more muted. There was a strange sensation growing in the back of my mind. "I told her a vague story about having memories from someone else in the Remaining World after my Induction, and sort of prompted her into bringing you up. She didn't tell me anything useful... But about a month ago, after the academy arranged this visit, she sent me a letter saying she'd heard you were here, so I should look for you."

Samium blinked, then slowly frowned. "Autonoe?" He sounded confused. "Why would she... No, I must be misunderstanding something."

I hesitated, glancing upwards. "What do you mean?"

"Well, right now, she herself is in--"

𒊹

Inner Sanctum | 7:50 PM | Third Day

In the middle of that sentence, the recording ended suddenly. Again, there were many questions. Why did it cut out? Why had he been about to say about Autonoe? Was the obvious conclusion that the book had been responsible for my period of clouded memory?

But I didn't care anymore. Because I had my answer, and now there was nothing left.

I didn't bother retrieving the echo maze. I turned, and slowly wandered back the way I came. Not knowing where I was going. Not knowing why I was moving at all.

I could no longer run from the truth, so instead, I ran from everything entirely. The world seemed to fade away, so that all that remained were my steps on the floor and an endless, all-encompassing darkness, gentle and still.

It's okay, I said to myself.

Balthazar and Fang said it, right? And the message left in my handwriting said it, right?

None of this is really happening. Everything will reset. It's all just a nightmare.

It's all just a nightmare.

I'll see Ran and the others again soon. I'll get the real answer from Samium soon.

Heh... It's so silly... I mean, Theo could never kill anyone. He's useless.

Kam would never let herself get killed. She's too stubborn.

Neferuaten would never be the first to die... She's too smart.

And Ran said she'd be with me until this was all over.

Why did I ever think this was real? It's all ridiculous.

I wandered back towards the conference hall, almost tripping over one of the books that had fallen when we'd been desperately barricading the doors hours earlier. I saw a phantom image on the conclave in full swing, of everyone sitting up on the wooden stalls, the council staring at me from the far end. But then I blinked, and it vanished into nothingness.

For a moment, I felt so sad that I didn't even have the words. But then the feeling sank into the miasma of my mind.

Yes. None of it mattered. Even on the off-chance it had all been real, it didn't matter anyway, because my life was already over. This illusion would soon fade.

I didn't know where I was going, but I nevertheless stepped back through the heavy stone doors to the exterior of the building. There, to my surprise - leaning against the side of the statue of Phui with an impassive, expectant look - was Balthazar, now sans-sunglasses. He smiled slightly as I arrived.

"Ah," he said, his tone mild and friendly as ever. "You're right on time."

Somehow, in spite of everything, I still managed to be annoyed by his presence. He also brought me back to reality a little bit, which I didn't appreciate at all, and my face darkened considerably. My legs hurt; my concentration must have been waning. I was so, so tired.

"You're still alive," I said, with overt animosity. "I thought you'd died in the contact paradox."

"Contact paradox? Ahah, so it turned out to be one of those times." He sighed wistfully, shaking his head. "No, nothing to do with me, I'm afraid."

So Theo must have used a blood sample after all, I thought.

No, that's not completely certain, my deductive instinct reminded me. Remember, you never actually saw the contact paradox happen. That leaves open the possibility that it was some sort of trick.

Why was I bothering to even think this?

He glanced over me, curling his lip slightly. "You're looking rather worse for wear. I think you'd be a little terrified if you saw yourself in the mirror at this point."

I scowled at him.

"Pardon me," he said, with a small laugh. "I guess even in the circumstances, it's a little vulgar to comment rudely on a girl's looks."

"Y-You're so chipper," I said. I realized I was shivering. Too much internal blood loss. "Don't you realize what's happened? That everyone else is dead?" The last word seemed to somehow take me by surprise. I found myself pushing my lips together sharply.

"It's ephemeral," he replied casually. "I explained this all to you already. You're really not yourself this time around at all, are you?"

"Are you the one who killed the others...?" I asked. "Who strung up Anna, Lilith and Mehit? Who shot Fang from outside?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, with a gentle shake of the head. He reached into his pocket, withdrawing what looked a piece of wrapped jerky, and took a bite. "I hadn't done anything but sit around where you left me until about an hour ago. I read some more magazines, watched the Nittaimalaru explode - never had a good view of it, before - then waited for the lights to come back on. After that, I did a little Divination, then headed down here to see who would be left." His smiled widened slightly. "I figured it would just be you. Even in a scenario like this, you have stronger survival instincts than your persona would ever give the impression."

I stared at him, his chewing the only sound in the silent air of the vestibule.

"So what happened, exactly?" he inquired. "If you don't mind my asking. I pieced a good amount together, but it would be interesting to have the general outline confirmed, at least."

I blinked, then cast my eyes downward. "We went to the security center to hold out while Anna tried to reroute the transpositioning controls so we could leave the sanctuary, but some of us had to go out into the halls because Mehit was injured in the printing room. Then, while we were running about trying to treat her, Sacnicte and Yantho were killed. Lilith confessed she'd attacked her mother under Hamilcar's orders, so we went underground to confront him, and he was killed too... Or, well, it seemed like he was... But then when we went back up, the Everblossom exploded. After that, we had to split into two groups to repair the runework of the sanctuary, but--" I frowned, rubbing my eyes as I tried to even figure out how to express the story with everything I'd learned. "...but we were attacked, and a bunch of things happened, and Fang was shot, and it seemed like there was a contact paradox, and... Ophelia and Anna... And Zeno.."

Come to think of it, there was no definitive proof that any of them had died. Even though Theo has confessed it was his plan, it wasn't out of the question that Ophelia had escaped. Anna hadn't even been Anna. And there was nary of trace of Zeno's true body other than some gore in the tunnels.

Seeming to pick up on my hesitation, Balthazar cut in. "I visited the security center about 40 minutes ago," he said, "and confirmed there was no one else alive other than you and Theodoros. And judging by the amount of blood on you and the chunks of bone that seem to be stuck in your scepter, the situation has, well, progressed."

I blinked. I looked at my scepter, which I'd unthinkingly hooked back to my waist after I'd killed Theodoros. Sure enough, it was caked in blood and worse. The ankh at the hilt had splintered and broken along its arch, and there was viscera all over both it and my chest.

It didn't feel real. Like it was all a costume for the Thoth festival, or something.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off," he said politely. "Please, continue."

"Uh... After that, we were going to try to leave, but I found the hidden bioenclosure..." Wait, am I responsible for everyone dying? "and, uh, Lilith, Anna, and Mehit's body. E-Except it wasn't the Anna we'd been talking to all night... And we found out that most of what had happened had been some setup by the Order... And that Theodoros had been one of the murderers. There was a fight, I think. And-- And that's it."

"I see." He threw the packaging to the ground as he finished the jerky. "So it was one of those times after all, huh... I'm guessing he only confessed to trying to kill Ophelia, and everyone at the end?"

I frowned. "Yeah. W-Well, he said he wanted to kill Bardiya... But he killed himself first."

"Makes sense." He cast his eyes over the field surrounding the building. "My guess would be that he saw something that displeased him on the other side of the window. That man has quite a secret, you see. It's come up a few times." He brought his forefinger to his lip, thinking. "As for the rest, I can only guess. He was probably right about Sacnicte's death, at least, being masterminded by the Order, and he probably really did trigger a contact paradox, as insane a gambit as that is. I've caught him taking my blood once in the past. Can't catch a break, eh?"

"I thought you said you didn't know who the killer was," I said mutedly.

"I don't," he stated, amused. "I only know peripheral details. For example, I have no idea who could have shot Fang, much less the other three. There shouldn't anyone still around." He laughed softly. "How funny. Even now, I'm still just a hapless bystander."

"What about Anna? You saw her in the tower."

He nodded. "It's quite a good trick, isn't it? It got me the first time. When you're that old, nobody quite knows what a young version of you is even supposed to look like."

"Who was she?" I asked, vaguely curious in spite of everything.

"The cook."

I frowned. "Vijana?"

"Sure," he replied idly. "You probably never inspected the body closely yourself, did you? If you had, you might have noticed something." He smiled warmly. "That one happens about half of the time."

I rubbed my eyes. There was still blood on my hand. "I don't... Understand."

"No, I'd expect you don't," he said. "But there's not much point in explaining now. And besides, I don't really feel like getting into it."

"What are you doing here, then?" I asked. "Are you trying to escape?"

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "I'd like to, don't get me wrong, but it's quite impossible. Even if we were to go to a transposition chamber and get Sekhmet to activate it, it wouldn't do any good. They're always sabotaged by the end of the first night unless someone deliberately keeps a vigil to prevent it." He crossed his arms. "Though, I wonder if they'd even do anything if they weren't? After all, this isn't reality. Well, not normal reality, at least."

"S-So it's really true," I said, a little hope on my lips. "That this is some-- Some fake world? And that everything will loop back to the way it was?"

"'Fake world' is a little too melodramatic. My understanding is that it's more an illusion we're collectively buying into, although even that isn't quite correct," he explained. "Maybe more like we're dipping our faces into a pool, while the rest of our body is on the surface... Well, I suppose it's just semantics." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But setting that aside, I'm not sure where you got that last part. I already told you that this was the final loop."

"Yeah, but..." I stopped for a moment, catching my breath as I felt a spike of pain from my crotch area. I'd fallen into a negative feedback loop where my mental state was affecting my incantation, which was damaging my physical body, which was in turn worsening said that mental state even further. "...b-but Fang's note said that the weekend would still repeat one more time. In the real world."

"Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, that's true," he said, with another nod. "...however, it's nothing to do with us."

I frowned, feeling a sense of dread growing in me. "What do you mean?"

"That will be our other selves, who were never trapped here in the first place." He pushed himself up, taking a step away from the statue. "But as for us, we'll be going somewhere different altogether."

"What? W-Where?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't say. That woman," he nodded towards the bell tower, "seemed to hope it would be like paradise. But it could also be hell. Or we could just disappear into nothingness, though I guess that would be closer to the latter than the former at this point." He looked back at the image of Phui, of her cut-in-half face, one side peaceful and the other screaming. "Are you religious, Shiko? I don't think I've ever asked."

I grimaced, looking down at my shaking legs. "...no."

"Mm, I'm the same way." His smile grew fainter and more sentimental. "My father was Asharomi, so I was raised on the Old Pantheon. On the idea that the gods would one day finish dying, and the world would be reborn in its proper shape." He snorted. "But my mother was a devout Principist, and whenever I was visiting her, she made every effort to talk those ideas right out of me. I guess in the end, the two cancelled each other out, and I ended up finding it hard to think anything I couldn't see with my own two eyes was really true." He closed his eyes for a moment. "...but honestly, at this point, I just wish I believed in something, you know? To feel that confidence that, at the end, everything will be alright, one way or the other."

"Mmpgh," I mumbled, shivering.

I probably would have related if I'd been listening to what he was saying.

He looked back towards me. "Sorry, it doesn't seem like you're in the mood for my sophistry." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "You asked me why I'm here. I was actually looking for you, specifically."

"Wh... why?" I asked, panting.

"Well, I'm not exactly the most subtle person, and I basically said as much already... But I'm actually feeling a little sour about this situation." He took a step towards me. "I mean, this is the last loop, and no one has any idea what comes next. And yet, even though I'm the only one who completely remembers and has had to actually face that reality, everyone basically told me to just sit quietly and not make a fuss. While you, just because of your role, had everything set up to give you special treatment. I mean, I suppose I can understand the logic insofar as it won't matter to me after this one way or the other, but... It feels like salt in the wound, after everything." He smirked. "You're the type who gets jealous. I'm sure you can understand."

Again, I only parsed a fraction. "What's... Your problem, with me, anyway? Why did you call me Shiko?"

"Because I know it upsets you," he said plainly. "And do you really want to know?"

I hesitated, then nodded.

"Well, I can hardly say no if you're explicitly asking," he said, taking another step forward. "I told you before that the number of notches in the pantry represents the number of loops which have transpired. But in truth, I'm not wholly sure that's true. I can't even remember how long this has been going on. A thousand times? Ten thousand? A hundred-thousand?" He smile grew more bitter, and as he grew closer, I could see that his eyes were filled with a tremendous, bitter fatigue. "It's been a very long time of having to die over and over again, even though I'm only here by a stroke of bad luck, and shouldn't have ever been involved in the first place."

"What does that have to do with me?!" I demanded. "I didn't-- I didn't ask to be here, either!"

"I'll tell you," he said. "Because in the overwhelming number of scenarios - more than nine out ten - the one who kills everyone is you."

My eyes went a little wide. I stared at him.

"I can't even begin to count the number of times," he went on, "that the last face I've seen before I've 'died' has been yours. After I've been shot in the back. Blown to pieces with the Power. Shoved out a window. Strangled. Drowned in the stupid fish tank. Thrown out into the vacuum beyond the bioenclosure walls. And that's not even counting the low hanging fruit-- Spitting up my own blood in a prosognostic event, or dying without even knowing what's happening in a contact paradox."

I took a step back from him, and lied. "I-I'm not a murderer."

He laughed at full-tilt, smiling widely. It was a melodic sound that was very much reminiscent of Ophelia. "Now I wish I'd brought a mirror. I'm not even going to justify that with a response."

He took another step in response to mine. I gripped my scepter, feeling afraid.

"This whole scenario, save for what was to please Her, was contrived for your benefit. So the other you wouldn't have to remember the truth." He inclined his head slightly, his eyes piercingly focused on my own. "And yet, it ended with you in this state all the same. It almost makes me want to laugh. I suppose, even if you coddle it in a gilded cage and stuff its face with replicated meat thrice a day, a leopard simply can't change its spots."

"W-What are you going to do...?"

"I'm going to be the pawn that reaches the far side of the board," he said gravely, "and break my pattern of good behavior." A look that was both cruel and pained spread across his face, and his eyes looked as though they might have been watering slightly. "And then maybe, for probably the last few minutes of my existence, I'll have just a little catharsis of my own."

He advanced another step, and I stumbled back towards the stone doors. "S-Stay back!" I ordered him, brandishing my scepter.

"No."

He began to mutter something, and his hand went for his scepter - adorned with a crescent moon, one of the symbols of Transformative Thanatomany - but he was at a disadvantage, since mine was already drawn. I couldn't see the sheen of a barrier. A simple discharge would be enough to kill him. I spoke the initiating word--

There was a flash, and a sharp bang. Smoke was coming from a hole in his pocket.

It had been a feint. He'd made me think he was casting, while actually going for his refractor pistol. It was such a basic tactic it felt embarrassing that I'd fallen for it.

I felt a spike of pain from my chest. I glanced downward. There was a hole dead in the center.

Right through the heart.

He raised the pistol properly and quickly flicked up a lens, increasing the intensity of the beam. He fired three more times, each time targeting the same area. He struck my heart again, and my left lung area twice, such that there was barely anything left. Clumps of flaming flesh and bloodied ash splattered against the back wall.

I tried to incant, or reach for my own pistol, but all I could do was spit so much blood that it instantly closed my throat. The strength left me, and I dropped my scepter, my legs all but falling to pieces as the Flesh-Animating Arcana failed.

I fell forwards, my face slamming hard into the stone floor. I felt nothing but coldness, confusion, and despair. My vision grew dark.

And then I died.

𒊹

Balthazar of Isan killed Utsushikome of Fusai at 7:56 PM. After this, he wandered the sanctuary alone for some time, inspecting the crime scene in the hidden bioenclosure. He then returned to the Inner Sanctum and briefly visited the artifice intelligence chamber, conversing with Sekhmet. Finally, he spent the next hour in the greenhouse, reading a book he'd retrieved from the main hall and drinking from a bottle of whiskey from the Order's wine cellar.

At 9:07 PM, just under 30 minutes prior to the end of the scenario, he painlessly ended his own life using the Life-Slaying Arcana.

At the time of his death, there were no other survivors.

ATTEMPT TERMINATED

RESULT: FAILURE

WIND-DOWN CONCLUDED

ABORTION SEQUENCE COMMENCED

Tell me, O ferryman Urshanabi,

For whom have my arms labored?

For whom has my heart ached so?

In all my labors, I have done no good for myself

but only for this lowly beast.

- The Epic of Gilgamesh, Tablet XI