Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Elysium. The blessed isles of the afterlife, where those chosen dead could live with the decadence of life that the rest of Hades was denied. According to Homer, Elysium stood at the far western edge of the world. To him and the other ancient Greeks, perhaps the Americas discovered centuries later would've validated that belief.
"They certainly like their ostentatious names," Maribel said as they unpacked their things. "Did you know that Elysium was ruled by a king named Rhadamanthus?"
"Really? I thought it was ruled by Hades," Renko paused placing books on the shelves. "Still, you must admit. The place lives up to its name."
Elysium aboard the Rhadamanthus was the name for the living habitat of the station. It was gentle hills of rolling verdant grasses, which were stirred by a pleasant breeze that offered a cool reprieve from the late spring warmth of the air. Water flowed aplenty, with crystal clear streams fed by a great shining lake. The soil was rich, able to grow plentiful fruit and grain.
Yet Elysium was no simple Arcadia. It was home to at least several modest cities. It was a testament to the size of the Orbital Ring that living in the city closest to the heart of Rhadamanthus, Maribel could look in either direction and not see the other cities. Only the gentle plains of Elysium, fading into the impossible distance.
Such a place would have only been called Paradise by the ancients. Even now, it seemed an impossible marvel, compared to the state of the Earth below. Still, Maribel could feel the difference. Could feel the thrum of the unfathomable machinery that surrounded them, hidden out of sight yet without which Elysium could not exist. The impenetrable, invisible steel that shielded them from the merciless space that surrounded them. She knew from smell alone that the bountiful vegetation that graced Elysium was the same synthetic strains created on Earth after most of the originals had gone extinct. If Homer had appeared here, plucked from his time, would he truly have been fooled by such a sight?
"I know that look," Renko said as Maribel pondered into the depths of a fern. "You're thinking about how fake this all is. For someone who blurs the lines between dreams and reality, you get hung up on that a lot."
"You must admit that our plants are much better," Maribel sniffed archly.
She thought of Satellite Torifune. The Japanese government's first attempt at a space habitat, an experiment that, at the time, had been compared to Noah's Ark.
How quaint a thought, comparing such a small satellite to the grandeur of Elysium or the Icarus.
It had failed anyway. A mechanical failure had triggered a failsafe that had thrown Torifune to one of the Lagrange points. All aboard it were presumed dead.
Yet Maribel had gone to it, once. In her dreams. She had even taken Renko with her, the first time she had managed to do so. And Torifune was not a sterile derelict, but a wild jungle, its habitat free from the careful manufacturing of humanity. It was beautiful. It was dangerous . Monsters had evolved in the absence of humanity.
In Maribel's dreams, only she could be hurt.
Looking out at Elysium, as brilliant day turned into a twilight worthy of the greatest poets, Maribel could not help but think back to Torifune and its abandoned jungle.
