3/16/2016
PSYCHO-PASS: WAVE OF PASSING THOUGHTS (MAKISHIMA'S IDEAL NEW WORLD)
[24 HOURS PRIOR TO THE ATTACK ON NONA TOWER]
Shogo Makishima's only true friend and surviving collaborator, Choe Gu-Sung, stepped outside the entrance to his and Shogo's shared apartment, high above the streets of Shinjuku-ku Ward to leave his accomplice to his innermost thoughts. The high-rise was incredibly upper classed, not that Makishima had need for such a thing. The previous tenant had bought out the place for the two, a former associate to Makishima, shortly before being silenced. Shogo always cut the strings to the puppets he manipulated to do his bidding, the only exception was Choe, whom he shared a strongly mutual understanding.
Shogo and Choe Gu-Sung had been quartered up in the building for about a week now, secretly plotting. Gu-san was still anonymous to the police. Makishima on the other hand, had finally made his presence known to the protest of Choe, brutally killing Akane Tsunemori's friend Yuki Funahara in cold blood in front of the prodigy inspector a few weeks back. After years of being a ghost with no leads or if he was even real, Makishima had put himself himself out there, along with bringing about the realization that the truth behind a crystal clear hue was very real indeed. Sybil had nothing to judge the criminally asymptomatic Makishima with.
The rumors of such a character existing began when the then-Inspector Shinya Kogami obsessed over a manhunt, after finding a blurry photograph with a chilling "MAKISHIMA" scribbled on it in red pen, which Kogami considered proof enough, having no other solid evidence to go off of after the tragic event. Kogami's fellow enforcer, Mitsuru Sasayama, who wrote the note, was found brutally murdered and put on display by Makishima along with his criminally asymptomatic acquaintance, Kozaburo Toma, in the first Specimen Killer case. Kogami's tenure as inspector deteriorated and he became a latent criminal. Becoming Sybil's personal lap dog, Kogami transitioned to Enforcer just as Sasayama had before him. Shogo was unsure of whatever became of his partner Toma. Toma had borrowed a book of his and disappeared upon venturing into Sybil to gain information. Shogo hacked into the MWPSB's classified files, but nothing ever came up. As far as he knew, the MWPSB didn't know anything of Toma either at the time.
Shogo had begun to reread one of his personal favorites, Foucalt's "Naissance de la Prison", while sitting at the end of the dining table. Shogo held the open novel at a low angle yet pointed towards him, with one hand, the left, enveloping its backside. The novel was the written and bound original of course, even though it was hard to come by now. Everything was digital now to Shogo's distaste. Choe Gu-Sung, while older, preferred newer age things and was well rounded in all things having to do with technology.
Shogo's copy of the French work was untranslated. Shogo was fluent in several languages including Korean which Choe sometimes used rather than standard Japanese, for the man was of South Korean descent. Choe's last name was actually pronounced Gu-Seong, since Korean variants were different than that of the Japanese he went by. Choe only went by the Japanese variant, since the genius hacker operated primarily with Shogo.
Shogo still hadn't touched the single tomato lying on his dinner plate, nor the glass of red wine he had kept bottled, despite the cork already being pried. Choe had a bit, he was more of a drinker than Shogo. Neither of them were really ever ones to drink regardless. Choe had less than he normally did. Besides, tomorrow was going to be a big day, a day of a reckoning, it would seem. Choe's meal had consisted of steak, which Shogo didn't care much for. Even though, Shogo was in fact reading, he wasn't taking any of the words in. Shogo was lost in his own racing mind.
The Ministry of Welfare Public Safety Bureau, the political center of Japan, holder to the Criminal Investigations Department, but a faction of this conglomerate for law enforcement... a global epidemic. What a pitiful thing really, it brings about a series of questions you cannot help bring to mind. What is the Sybil System's viewpoint on law and order? What are they trying to keep us safe from? Is it for our best interests, to keep us slave to a machine that tells us how we act or shouldn't, as if our acts aren't justified to reason that define us? We are but electronic sheep, no different than the dystopia that the great visionary Isaac Asimov predicted for us. It is draconian and illiberal in nature.
Shogo pushed his perfectly white bangs to the side of his pale face. He had Marie Antoinette Syndrome and discolored amber eyes for reasons the world may never know. Shogo was strangely beautiful at the same time, given his distinguishing features. Shogo was never one to talk about his past, but his backstory was sure to be sprinkled with tragedy. Shogo had been a genius for as long as he would honestly care to remember.
What makes our Crime Coefficients rise, a scanner acting as judge, jury, and executioner? All this needless technology has simplified the human race and made them weak, blindly following a dictator that will surely wipe them off the face of the Earth, should they choose to rage against it. You see, I just want it to go back to the old days. No matter how much effort Sybil puts into masquerading themselves, the blissful zeitgeist people are led to believe, is in fact a lie. I want a society that is not defined by our punishment for being unique, rather our uniquity for not being punished. At best, this world Sybil has created for us is very cruel and cunning, as it is nauseating and bland, a false sense of serenity to cast over our unsuspecting eyes.
Shogo Makishima strummed about elegantly with his fingers. Makishima may not look as strong as he did, having a toned yet slender figure. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from Makishima's previous three assets, simple thugs that questioned Makishima's power rather forcefully, about how Makishima intended to go about his plans. Makishima was sure the MWPSB was still mulling over how whosoever accomplished the feat, managed to strategically beat all three armed men to death. Makishima slowly laid the book down, closing it without usage of a bookmark, resting it on the table next to his food.
I am not one of those people, to follow such an establishment is foolish and degrading. We can only reach out and grasp the true potential of our souls when we give in to our most daring desires. I wish to create a new world that shines light and exposes the monster or man hiding within the shadows. In order to achieve my undying dream, I must undermine this society at its base. I know exactly where this base is, it wasn't hard to find out to be quite frank. All I needed to take were the necessary steps and careful planning. Twenty floors below the ground level, an underground facility, hidden off the books in plain view within the MWPSB funded skyscraper that is NONA Tower.
Makishima stared at his meal blankly. Makishima didn't feel at all hungry as much as he loved his tomatoes. Makishima felt more joyed than he had in a long while, just the notion that Sybil would fall made him almost smile. Makishima also had someone in mind, this Shinya Kogami... could he turn him? Kogami was hard to read. Nevertheless, Shinya had something in him, Shogo knew that much. Shogo had nearly completely forgotten about Sasayama, he was only one out of so many. Makishima didn't seem to notice the Inspector Kogami at the time, but it felt as if the turning point of the man Kogami cared about, Sasayama being found in such a ghastly form had burrowed all the necessary seeds deeply enough for Makishima realizing Shinya's true splendor.
Being born criminally asymptomatic helped all the more, the one trump card that can overthrow everything Sybil has in place. They cannot judge me for my hue is crystal clear. Not to mention all my records have been wiped clean, no one even knows who I am or where I come from. I have chosen to remain hidden from the world, because of this disorder, to continue giving in to whatsoever I desire. That is my will, primal and carefree. To not be defined by the Sybil appointed Dominator is both a blessing and a curse, though it has helped weld a realization deep within myself... I must become the innovator, the preacher of this new world I will surely find.
Shogo brought forth his prized razor blade, stroking the carved wood on the hilt, before turning its attention to the tomato. Shogo stroked the tip along the exterior of the spherical fruit and pressed inward. Juice poured out as he dragged the knife smoothly back towards him, dissecting the tomato all the way through. The tomato peeled apart and the two halves fully separated. Shogo wiped the tomato juice decorating the blade clean with a handkerchief, the stainless steel that had gutted and slashed a far larger diversity of objects than a simple tomato. Shogo folded the razor blade with a click and pocketed it inside the front sleeve of his collared shirt. Shogo pricked the tomato with a fork, ready to take his first bite, eating at long last.
I will deteriorate this despotic infrastructure as I squeeze it's heart dry of what makes it beat evermore. I will pave the streets of the blood that will ensue. I will show the world what they have been missing out on, having lived sensitized, null lives. There is only one attraction I am desperately in love with, and that is the game that is life. I have no room to love anything else.
Makishima stabbed his fork through the other half of the tomato. Makishima did so with a light motion, so the juice didn't squirt out anymore after being perfectly cleaved in two. It was all Makishima needed, he was every bit as different from the rest of the crowd as he claimed to be. Makishima had slept an hour less than the two that was his average. Makishima felt more rested than ever, the sleep deprivation never showing on him. Makishima always looked exactly as he felt inside, but remained inhumanly calm. How could the Sybil System ever judge a man that couldn't be judged?
I may be classified in misanthropy directed to how those who live life, though never to life as it truly is. After all, I am its greatest player. I never was one to prefer sitting out, unless it was absolutely necessary. That being said, there is a reason for the times when I do watch from afar. I like to take note, to expand on my way of thinking. I want to see the splendor of the human soul and see for myself if it is really as worthwhile as I am led to believe. There is so much mischief I have yet to experience, and it relieves me to say that my aspirations are finally set and coming to motion. Say Sybil System, are you prepared to embrace a drastically different world such so than your own objectionably impassioned making?
Taking pride in his own thoughts, Makishima smiled happily. It was a calculating, sardonic smile that stretched wide. Makishima topped the tomato he had just finished with a quick swig of red wine, before hoisting himself off the seat effortlessly. Makishima pushed the chair in politely and wiped his lips with the handkerchief despite there being no such mess whatsoever. Makishima walked over to the glass window with a beautiful view overlooking a vastness of the shiny, bustling metropolis below. Makishima watched as people the size of ants scurried across the busy streets and the blur of what was surely a police cruiser chased another car along an intersection. Makishima broke the silence, concluding with a cryptic condemnation, "Goodbye, Sybil. You no longer have a part to play in this game."
End.