The city of Romdeau is useless.
We are all just dolls, marching to the commands of a half-dead old fool with glassy eyes and no mind of his own. We're all waiting for that one person to come back.
Ergo Proxy created us. We should hate him, but we don't. He is our Father, and we are the children who desire to make him proud. We're useless, but we still want him to smile and praise us. How could he? We're nothing more than disposeable pieces to a great disaster that could be undone if it weren't for the life contained within.
Sometimes I think I understand the infinite pain of the Proxy.
"Raul Creed," says one of the statues. "What is the meaning of this?"
I don't listen. I can't bear to. I hope when I'm done those statues will shut up. It's not enough that we have to suffer; they have to explain our meaningless pain to us to try and make it seem less menial.
And I don't blame the creator for leaving. Look at us! We cannot even hold ourselves together.
"Stop!" cries another of the statues. I ignore them. I can't take this anymore. I am not a blameless citizen. But a perfect citizen is a perfect fool. I am not going to sit by. I am not going to tolerate this.
"Raul!" I hear a voice cry, only this time it's human. It generates actual warmth, filling the room for a second. A voice with the sound of someone long-suffered, while still as pure and innocent as a child. I don't turn, but for a second I slow.
"Raul," calls the more mechanical voice. A monotone of something that shouldn't have been born; shouldn't have been created. I want to put the poor creature out of it's suffering. I want to kill it. I want to stop creating something useless. I want to become less useless, but it's hopeless. I hate this place. This perfect city is a gold-gilded cage in which we live, suffer, and die. There is no point or meaning to our lives.
I understand Monad Proxy, now. Maybe in it's violent ways, it was only trying to help us. Maybe we don't deserve to live.
I grab him by the neck, knocking over his IV. The Proxy always by his side doesn't even pretend to care. It simply steps out of my way and lets me do my task.
I feel his weak pulse beating against my palms. One of the statues cries out, but again I ignore it. I don't want to be here. I don't want to live like this.
His pulse is slowing. The paper thin face of Dominov Mayor simply stares at me, as dead as ever. For a second, I tighten my grip.
But suddenly, I come to my senses. The old fool falls to the floor, as much a doll as any of us. I hear footsteps running up behind me, and I prepare to die for my crime.
But instead, there he stands. It's Daedalus, and his face shows concern. I expect him to scream at me or yell at me, but instead he reaches out a single hand towards me.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I can't speak. When I try, nothing happens. My trembling kness give out, and I hit the floor. I hear more footsteps coming up behind me, and the same cold voice speaks.
"Raul," it says lifelessly. But if Kristeva were alive, I think she'd pity me. I hate myself for being weak, but I can't stop gasping for breath as though I was the one who was almost murdered. For a second, I see the pale, lifeless face of Dominov Mayor again. I shut my eyes tightly.
I think Daedalus understands, because I can feel him move over to where I lay.
"Breathe, Raul," he says, reaching out a pale and slender hand. I vaguely wonder what will become of the owner of that hand if his fingers will never find the ones of his loved one. "You're okay, just breathe."
I take his advice. He is, after all, a child prodigy. But I keep seeing my hands, tightening on that frail neck. I gasp instead of breathing regularly.
"Raul, it's okay," said Daedalus calmly. "You weren't going to do it, Raul. You wouldn't have killed him."
"What makes you think that?" I rasp.
"I knew you wouldn't," said Daedalus, giving me a small smile. "That's why I didn't try to stop you." His words shock me. He knew I wasn't going to do it when even I thought I would kill Dominov?
"Indeed," says Kristeva. And then I realize that if I were going to kill him, she would have stopped me.
Those warm hands, so full of life, gently pull me to my feet.
"Come on," Daedalus murmers. "Let's leave this place." He turns to the Proxy. "He's not feeling well. I'll take him to my home and examine him."
But I know Daedalus won't really. He'll set me down on his couch and fetch me some water while Kristeva waits in the corner and Monad Proxy eyes me curiously. Then he'll get a cool cloth for my forehead and lay it over my eyes. I'll sleep then, and I'll dream of a warm voice, pained and innocent, calling out to me.
I let him lead me away.