He was floating in a sea of white. For a moment, he forgot who he was and thus, forgot the pain that ebbed within the confines of his suit. It was blissful if not for a moment, but then his vision cleared as a line of rails sprung up in his vision. Sluggish arms reached out and held tightly – the movement seeming dreamlike in the calm blue of the ocean. In a split-second, the brief tranquility was shattered as he was brought up to the surface with the roar of the engines following at his heel.
He watched Rapture fade into the ocean, invisible eyes holding the city in silent regard. This used to be a paradise. He remembered elegant masquerade parties – clean floors and bright halls. People were smiling and laughing over the news of the day so far. There was a time when he didn't exist and when Eleanor was too young to remember – and that time was as close to paradise as it could get underneath the sea. All of this had fallen with the introduction of single substance. The snake, Fontaine, had offered an apple of ADAM, and Rapture, unsuspecting and vibrant, had taken a bite and succumbed to the slow poison of avarice and corruption. Was the perfect world so fallible that it could be toppled easily? He could only wonder if the utopia Ryan had so feverishly sought could ever exist in a world ruled by men.
He took hold of the rail post and pulled himself over. There was pain in every moment, but it was passing and receded like water upon the shore. Every ache and sting he felt was numbed by railed determination carrying him forth. This was all he could do for her. She wanted for him to live, but he knew in his rapidly deteriorating state that her wish was impossible the moment their physiological bond had been severed. He only hoped that if they could be reunited one last time that the passing would be easier. For now, he could only bear the weight of the ocean until they reached topside. He had survived death, and surely, he could last a little longer.
Stumbling, he passed by the second set of inner rails and leaned against the scratched glass, looking inwards. There was Eleanor and Lamb. Where were the Little Sisters? They had gone into the escape pod as well, hadn't they? He ceased his worrying as he watched the glide over to Lamb, every movement smooth and graceful as if she had been swimming all her life. Such perfection had been instilled into her, and he could only wonder the limits of her seemingly infinite potential. If she wanted to devastate the world, he had no doubt that was entirely possible for her, and if she wanted to protect it, there would be no better guardian than she.
The girl offered an oxygen mask to her mother, showing mercy despite all the trials she and her father had been forced to withstand. In this gesture, there was forgiveness and compassion that could only have come from within. Eleanor always had strong ethics and morality deep engrained into her mind, but she treasured her bond with him above all else. He could only venture an assumption that their relationship was only due to Suchong's intervention in their lives. He had never asked for a daughter, and surely, Eleanor never meant to be separated from her caretakers. Pure circumstance had brought them together, and as the first successful Protector, he was the beginning of a terrible lineage as Eleanor sparked the dawn of a strange web of relations between Little Sisters and their Big Daddies. They had pioneered the pairbond, and as a result, Delta was to die from it. He was not angry – how could he? There was something strangely compelling about them, and it was something he could not describe at first.
But then he knew, because how could he not recognize his family? The same blood may not course through both of their veins, but the same drives, thoughts, and love were all mutual and shared.
For something so wonderful, could it be real? Rapture was said to be utopia, and it had fallen into shambles – a mere vestige of its former glory it could never hope to re-attain. It had been built by a frustrated man and his desire for true freedom. Delta and Eleanor's love had been birthed in a laboratory and baptized with neurological chemicals. Their purpose had only been to provide and supply for the greedy. With a such a flawed existence, how could it possibly be tangible?
Regardless, something existed between them that grew steadily. The simple reliance of the girl had been the root of instincts that went further than mere guardianship. Young Eleanor had then surely sensed the subtle shifts within their time together. The little things – patting her on the head, carrying her to the vents, indulging in her pretend games – all added up, and their sum forged the unbreakable links of the their relationship. He was a father then – protecting and guiding her, and he was a father now. That was something Lamb could not hope to change, as even in death, he was still on Eleanor's mind.
Her visions led to his miraculous resurrection, and it seemed that if he could rescue her, his forbearance would be rewarded by regained unity. They would have been father and daughter, walking through the valley of shadows hand in hand. They would have stood triumphant, ready to embrace their earned freedom.
But it was something that wasn't meant to be.
He was bathed in light, the bright sky stripping away the layers of darkness that clung to him. On his back, he watched as the red sky was just beginning to welcome the sun with open arms. The night bled away into the warmth, and then Eleanor was there. Her helmet was gone, revealing her vibrant, young face as she kneeled down to him. Through the thick armor, he could feel the butterfly-like touch as she gently caressed his head. The movement was simple, but the mere gesture conveyed a sense of overwhelming love and admiration.
She took his hands and rested them upon his chest in the same manner as the angels. They locked gazes, Eleanor finding his eyes even through the glass that perpetually separated them. She raised the needle, the tip hovering over his chest. Words formed on his lips, but he could only mouth them unseen. Regardless, Eleanor smiled, a sad shine in her eyes as she carefully pressed down. The tip sunk in to the armor and skin easily, but strangely there was no pain. There was only simple peace.
"The Rapture Dream is over, but in waking, I am reborn. This world is not ready for me, yet here I am. It would be so easy to misjudge them."
She stood up, eyes sweeping over the readings. Delta's ADAM was undeniably powerful, but despite it, there was restraint. The needles drifted to the edge but did not try to go any further. Eleanor removed the instrument of death, setting it carefully on the ground as she approached the edge of the escape pod. In her body, there was a strength that went beyond mere humans and brilliance that outshined any other. Looking into the calm waters, she saw her reflection and sought Father in her eyes. Several faces joined her, the little girls reminding her of her new responsibility. Eleanor accepted her guardianship without hesitation.
"You are my conscience, Father, and I need you to guide me. You'll always be with me now, Father – your memories, your drives… And when I need you, you'll be there on my shoulder, whispering."
One of the former Little Sisters handed her a small doll. It was a crudely cobbled together, but the effort went into making it was entirely apparent. It held a lot of memories for such a small toy, and she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the fateful night on New Year's Eve. Then she thought no more of the day that had passed ten years ago and allowed the doll to slip from her hands. It glided into unseen depths. She didn't need it now that Father was with her.
"If utopia is not a place but a people, then we must choose carefully for the world is about to change."
The sun began to rise over the endless horizon. The new day was here, and she stood up, feeling its warmth for the first time.
"And in our story, Rapture was just the beginning."