Good evening everyone. You must be wondering what is happening with the unusually short chapter, hmm? Well, read on, and find out :) I do hope you will like it, and leave me reviews, for which I will be very, very greatful, as always :)
Chapter 38 - Where the world turns.
Prisoner's Dilemma
Two suspects in a capital murder are arrested by the police. The police have insufficient evidence for a conviction, and, having separated both prisoners, visit each of them to offer the same deal. If one testifies ("defects") for the prosecution against the other and the other remains silent, the betrayer goes free and the silent accomplice receives the death penalty. If both remain silent, both prisoners are sentenced to only six months in jail for a minor charge. If each betrays the other, each receives a life sentence. Each prisoner must choose to betray the other or to remain silent. Each one is assured that the other would not know about the betrayal before the end of the investigation. How should the prisoners act?
He had become aware of the other's presence only when he stood in front of the door; the sekki stone had marvelously done its job. Still, hand on the pressure plate that served as a doorknob, he did not feel tempted to go back. Stark's reiatsu felt extremely distant, and Grimmjow's had vanished altogether, as if the Sexta had left the tower. It made perfect sense, Szayel thought, hesitating for a moment before opening the door to his bedroom and facing into his doubts; Grimmjow had never been able to tolerate the presence of people who tried to remind him that fear was, in the end, healthy. That was why he'd always gotten along so well with Illfordt. Illfordt had never been afraid a single time in his life.
Or maybe, just in the split second before dying.
That would explain the sudden dent in his reiatsu reading, Szayel thought, then nodded to himself.
He wondered what his voice would sound like – he did not truly have any interest or mental strength to even attempt to act, and, if he was to be thoroughly honest with himself, he barely had any idea what kind of act would be the wisest under the circumstances. He therefore decided to utter the words without trying to impress any sort of nuance.
'Good evening, Kaname.'
Grimmjow hissed at the white silhouette in the distance, recognizing its reiatsu in a single whiff. He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, and he flexed his fingers, as if the feline within had meant to unsheathe its claws.
Indifferent to the threat, the figure approached, walking slowly and unhurriedly towards the Sexta. He was close enough for the blade to reach, Grimmjow thought, baring his canines in spite of the fact he was assured the other was too far to see the gesture. Or perhaps not.
'C'mon, Grimmjow. Is tha' any way to greet an ol' pal?'
Indeed, it wasn't; that was why, without lending his actions any further thought, Grimmjow pulled Pantera out of its sheath.
'You're not my pal, Ichimaru,' he snarled.
'Ya know,' Ichimaru Gin sighed, his smiling features managing to express deep sorrow. 'That well an' truly breaks my heart.'
'Extra ecclesias nulla salus,' Stark said. 'Nothing succeeds outside the church.'
The crescent moon lurked evenly above, veiled by a soft, shredded cloud. If Lilinette had been by his side, she would have said the cloud looked like a horse head. He would have disagreed; to him, it simply looked like a cloud. She would have sneered and told him he had no imagination – with that, he would have agreed.
Sometimes, however, if he looked at the desert in the perfect angle, he could almost imagine it looked like the sea. Given enough time for contemplation – and time was something that Hueco Mundo posessed in abundance – one could actually see the dunes shift with the winds, a landscape that should have been frozen, but instead always managed to look new. The only constant were the petrified trees, which always stayed in place, stretching their pleading limbs towards a heavens that would never grant their prayer for rain.
As no other prayers were granted.
The other man's kind smile did not falter, as the Segunda turned to face him.
'It is good,' Aizen said, with a sweet, polite bow of his head, 'that you have finally understood that. I also hope that you have gained enough wisdom to accept it.'
In a Prisonner's Dilemma game, each of the players acts in his individual logical best interest. In the classic form of this game, cooperating is always worse than defecting; why would one remain loyal, knowing that if the others defect, they may die? Thus, no matter what the other players do, the individual player will always gain a greater payoff by betraying the others. Since in any situation playing defect is more beneficial than cooperating, all rational players will betray, all things being equal.
Let the games begin.
Non-Bleach Commentary: Ironically, all players acting in their individual best interest leads them to bury each other. This sub-optimal equilibrium is called a Nash Equilibrium, after mathematician John Nash. For a super simple, correct and hilarious illustration of this game theory concept, go to You Tube and look up 'A beautiful mind, Nash's Equilibrium'. Watch the three minute sequence. I promise it is worth it.
As an end note, though the concept of a Nash equilibrium has revolutionized modern economics, and is arguably one of the greatest logical revolutions of the 20th century, John Nash was denied a Nobel prize in economics at the time of his discovery, because of his rampant paranoid schizophrenia and never proven hints at bisexuality. It took some 50 years for the Nobel committee to recover from their insanity, and he finally received his prize in 1994.
To my knowledge, in spite of the fact that he has been off anti-psychotic medication for some thirty years and is, by all accounts, very eccentric, he continues to hold a honorary tenure at Princeton University.
Just in case you thought Szayel Aporro was the only mad scientist around.