S1041B

The stage Meursault stands on is made of irrationality.

Meursault struggles hopelessly against the currents. Alone. Abandoned without a role.

And standing in the gloom, I can only watch as the tides carry him away.

Just as the helplessness began to wear me down, in that stifling silence of the darkness that refused to answer anything...

The sunshine found me.

Something's weighing on your mind, Dante.

<.......>

Or... are you afraid, perhaps? Afraid of the choices to come?

Meursault warned me against talking with the sunlight - that I shouldn't look into it for too long...

... but it was nearly impossible to resist its compassionate warmth when I was surrounded by nothing but the frost of the frustrating, endless silence.

<... I am afraid.>

<I'm not... like you. I'm lost. I don't know anything - I can't seem to know anything. And that makes me... afraid.>

Hmm... I'm not sure how much I ought to reveal to you, but...

I wasn't all that different, Dante.

I... was trying to build a new set of rules above the rules of the City.

And that was when I met two children from the Outskirts.

And one of them... while they assumed the form of a human, ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■ ■■ ■■■...

<Wait, I didn't hear - >

Haha, I always end up confusing myself when I'm telling you these stories. I never know where I should start the tale... or where I should end it.

Anyway... I had to use that special child I met in the Outskirts for an experiment.

Without sacrificing that child... we couldn't have gotten hold of the Singularity.

But everything I believed in, the values whispering from behind me... made it impossible to accept sacrificing a child. Even if it were to connect the stars.

Well, now... I paint the world as I wish, but... it was truly, truly terrifying then.

My work didn't just end at making a new set of rules over those of the City - I had to stand against those who... tried to preserve the status quo...

I'm sure it wasn't just me. Everyone who had followed me must have felt the same way.

"... Death could come for us at any moment."

"Everything we've built up could come to nothing."

"This is it. There's nowhere else for us to go if this fails."

Every one of those concerns chipped away at the faith we had in our plan.

And there's that doubt that always rears its head at moments like those.

"What is any of this worth?"

How about it, Dante? Doesn't that sound familiar?

<... It's familiar - no, I've had that exact thought before.>

It wasn't a brief, momentary concern, either. I've heard that same question echoed many times since the beginning of our journey.

Even among countless other anxieties we carried on our backs... that phrase perfectly captured that one anxiety that refused to recede, no matter how far we got.

What kind of person is Meursault to you?

<A... Sinner. I think.>

<Someone who used to be an N Corp. resident until he was exiled... Someone who gives me sound advice... and has excellent memory...>

<.......>

This is no different from the gaze Meursault bears on a daily basis.

And... that does precisely nothing. It can't be the helping hand he needs.

What can I do, then?

What can I possibly do when I haven't the slightest idea whether any of this was - is - worth it?

<How... did you endure those anxieties?>

... I couldn't, Dante.

Their gaze bore into my heart like a harpoon, and it hurt so much that -

A child was dead. And we were so gripped by that guilt that we - I was pushed to the absolute brink that I -

... A choice had to be made. A choice in place of persisting through it.

<What choice?>

To use me to complete the project.

To discard me, to sacrifice me for our purpose.

That Singularity we seized through that child... could only be extracted from me.

With all that guilt, all that remorse inside me... I resolved to let go of my life...

I slid deeper... and deeper... into the bathtub,

letting my eyelids fall. And once darkness rushed in...

... I became... afraid. It was more overwhelming than any fear I'd ever felt, deeper and more viscous than any despair I'd suffered. It was just... different.

It was a cry... for life.

<You didn't want to die.>

.......

I think Meursault and Jeanne are much like me, despite appearances.

We're all people who can't find acceptance anywhere, crying out because the rejection has become unbearable.

But isn't that true for every single person in the City, at least to some degree?

They're crying so that they won't be forgotten by the world. So that rip currents won't carry them away and drown them.

Dante, think about it. What can you do for Meursault?

Just what are you, that you should be the one to lead them all?

<... All I can do is... struggle,>

<still harrowed by the anxieties of what tomorrow might hold...>

Who am I? What am I?

Am I a manager who leads the Sinners? A year ago, I was saddled with that title against my wishes. Is that really... what I am?

Don Quixote's family. Ryōshū's friend. Gregor's comrade. Outis's superior. Hong Lu's colleague. Sinclair's adult. Heathcliff's confidant. Ishmael's compass. Yi Sang's fellow. Faust's - Rodya's - Vergilius's - Charon's - Meursault's -

I realize that everything that came to mind when I thought of myself... is constructed by the gaze of others.

What am I without their gaze?

What, other than others, could prove me?

Once Meursault has shaken free from my gaze...

... what becomes of the entity that lies underneath?

What anchors his existence?

<.......>

.......

He met my gaze, and I his.

Seeing the cold fire that burned in his eyes, I decided not to reach out with my hand, my words, or anything at all.

I simply placed my anticipation, my expectation on that existence before me.