The Final Check-up (before battle)

We are almost done with the regular check-up.

Finally, we have a chance for you to overcome an adversity based on what you have learned thus far…

… and for me to prove my hypothesis.

<What hypothesis is he talking about?>

No need to worry. My hypotheses have never been wrong. Most of the time.

This experiment is entirely of my own design and supervision.

And I will faithfully follow my own pure curiosities and instincts as a researcher.

Guys, I have a feeling we're not gonna like where this goes…

Now, do you see this Monolith here?

Yep, I do. That's a Monolith alright. But…

Ah, don't you worry. My researchers will be the ones to activate the artifact.

A-activate the artifact?

Not on you, relax.

I understand that none of you would be willing participants to this experiment.

I swear, if you're going to force us to distort saying that we have no right to refuse or something, I'm gonna…

Yeah, hang on. I can't let you do that, even as your assistant.

Yes. But, if you must, we are willing to send the weakest Sinner among us for -

<…….>

Um, forget I said that. That was foolish of me to say.

I will be the subject of the experiment myself.

You're going to… distort yourself? Am I hearing you right?

Aren't you curious to see what kind of Distortion you'd end up becoming? I'm sure this is a question you have all entertained at least once.

No. I ain't curious. It ain't a very pleasant experience, either.

Stop gritting your teeth like that, assistant. It will have an adverse effect on your long-term dental health.

… What if you just end up turning into a Peccatulum?

You could end up becoming a Peccatulum, just another one of the fodder we slaughtered our way through for the 'tests' earlier. You're risking that?

It is indeed a possibility.

It would signify nothing more than my very own limitations.

Just a mediocre shell.

If such an incident comes to pass, these employees will transport me to a containment unit. We even made a bet on what kind of Peccatulum I would turn into.

He bet on Gulae, I on Invidiae, and her on Pigritiae.

But how could you…

Think about it like this. If I were to become a Peccatula, it would be akin to… losing at a game of chance.

Of course, what counts as a 'loss' may depend on what I, at that precise time, consider to be losing. But, the mere fact of turning into a Peccatulum...

... reaves me of any value to life.

I'd say he was being 'too hard on himself'... but that felt like too simple an expression to describe his tone.

The company would most likely attempt to transport me to a containment unit, but I disagree with that decision. I would like to ask you to dispose of me on the spot.

I am well aware that I'm not the kind of congenial person who earns others' favor at first meeting, if at all. I also don't believe that our brief relationship has been the most amicable kind. Therefore, I see little reason why you would hesitate to cut me down.

Of course, Sinners with gentle hearts like this young Sinclair here may express certain distaste against this decision…

... but once I become a Peccatulum, it may as well mean that Hohenheim, the entity, has ceased to be. So I hope no unnecessary emotions like guilt clouds your judgment in killing the Peccatulum, a mere byproduct.

…….

But… what if something unexpected happens?

We're talking about your life here. Don't you have any manuals with backup plans or…

This is a very simple matter. Nothing more than a coin flip. Heads, or tails.

It appears that you are still insisting on your absurd 50:50 theory.

I am a researcher who wishes to humiliate the field of mathematical statistics, unlike the general lay of the academia.

I believe there is a certain romanticism to research. It is much more exciting to run as many tests and gain as many samples as we can than to be stuck behind a desk, poring day and night over books and paper, isn't it?

If it's tails, then you may dispose of me immediately, and the employees here will take care of the rest. Don't forget to destroy the key inside that coat pocket and the files inside my cabinets, for example…

Yes, we remember.

If I were to successfully Distort, we would be halfway to success.

My, for the first time, I am feeling quite the envy for you all. I wish I could be a witness to my very own Distortion…

Huh…

If you've been paying attention to my lectures, perhaps you could even come up with a classification code for my Distortion too, going by the standards we have discussed earlier.

Not that I have a very high expectation that you would. I've recently come to a realization that people nodding along to my words is not a signifier of comprehension, but instead an expression of societal niceties.

…. Nods.

Then, the manager here will open the entrance to my Dungeon of the Fathoms…

… and you will progress through the Mirror Dungeon, as you have always done when facing a Distortion, to reach into its deepest fathoms to face my Distortion once again.

I wish you the best of luck in your suppression efforts.

Hm. Hexasection.

And once you've made it that far, it is likely that you will find me unconscious. Or, if luck would have it, conscious.

Unconscious? Are you sure this is safe?

A degree of case-by-case variance is to be expected. It may take some time for a full recovery, but it will happen, should you succeed.

That reminds me, that's how this 'Bamboo-hatted Kim' was brought back as well.

Bamboo-hatted Kim… He's recovered?

He is safely contained within our facilities.

Ah, it seems that they are ready to activate the Monolith.

I am confident that I, even as a Distortion, will be quite the exceptional specimen.

Hang on, just like that?

You're not a Peccatulum.

Indeed… and I…

… I can still hear them…

Yes, I… remember. I still do.

I know he'll be back, but… Gosh, this is pretty unnerving.

<…Don't worry. We'll bring him back, no matter what.>

The manager says that 'we will bring him back, no matter what'.

Sure sounds like a dependable sort, this manager of yours. Very well. Please, take a look at this.

<Is this... a note? Did he write us tips on how to do this, or something?>

He says that all you have to do is read what's on that note in front of his Distortion. Apparently it's some kind of... a code.

<I don't think he'll hear anything but ticking noises from me... Can you read this, Meursault?>

It will be done as you commanded.

Meursault nodded, then began to read the words from the note aloud.

Lobotomy Corporation. Five Minutes. Potentiality. Anticipation. Right-hand.

The moment Meursault uttered them...

The all-too-familiar portal began to appear around Hohenheim's Distortion, as though they were a key to a door.

Scattering shards of familiar yet alien sights appeared intermittently beyond the shimmering veil.

Hohenheim had already entered the portal as we stood there gawking. But we could still hear his voice echoing through the laboratory.

I suppose I'll be forced to share my past here. The past I never wanted to share, the past no one cares to learn about.

It is something I must endure for the sake of this experiment. However…

… I needn't expose every little detail of it.

It's… all in the past now anyway, isn't it?