Eternal slumber made vengeful nightmares. Shifting shadows. Staring down at an angel's death. Wings clipped. A voice that could no longer sing. Blood trailing down the back. Pooling at the end of the table.
Eyes would finally open. A gasp. A soundless scream. A soundless cry. A gaze heavenward to a metal cage. The grave of heaven holding the coffin of the devil.
Am I dreaming again?
It might have been a blessing if he still lived inside the dream. Instead, he laid in the open casket. The skin powered with oil. The lining a cage of metal. A violent rebirth of ever shifting metalwork. The endless metallic ringing. Corpses falling all around him. People speaking over him in hushed whispers. His body strapped tight against the bed of life. His cries echoing in silence. Reflections of himself staring back to him in a haze of purple. A fog over him.
The mind was faded as he gazed across the room. Head shifting side to side to focus on anything. Blurred vision, thousands of alerts, a room that spun endlessly, a body that ached without cease. Carefully he moved his arms. Clenched his hands. Grit his teeth. Every movement felt slow. Felt unnatural. As if it was not his soul controlling his body. But another person. And he only could watch himself as the unknown person moved him. Watched as the other man that sat in his metal body would become him.
This has to be a dream…
Even if the poor little machine hoped it was another dream, another torture, another recollection… deep down, he knew the truth. Knew that this place was neither coffin nor grave nor monument. But a place of rebirth. A place that would grasp his arm and pull him from the ocean of spirits to drown him in the sorrows of life. A place where he would cling to hell. Where no devil wept.
He tried to scream. Tried to call out to anyone who might listen. But only the aches of pain echoed in the room. "Ah—" a sputtered voice box. Only to die into a madness. Was it everything attempted to come back online? A soft reboot? Had his soul left this cage leaving the 'him' behind? The carrier of the disease. Was 'this' no longer 'him' anymore?
That ringing finally stopped. Replaced by footsteps that spun around him. Endlessly. Growing louder. Growing closer. Calculated, careful, loud. He merely stared at the ceiling, trying not to move. Was he scared? Was he petrified?
A machine made for war. Yet all he could feel was fear.
Fear.
A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
Was that what he felt? In this empty coffin?
A bright light shined into his eye. It moved side to side. A trail of heaven. He felt a touch upon his face. The hand of God. He could hear it whisper to his ear. The holy spirit. The words blended together so easily. A string spun endlessly into a pattern. Another voice. This one of shock.
Perhaps they would find it fit to kill him.
Oh! There!
He moved his head. Felt his fingers move once more. Felt his tongue move. Felt his legs bend. Colors swarmed his mind but an object could not form. More voices. More talking. Panic. Fear. He could taste it on the air. A hand that touched him, pushing him gently into the lover's embrace of his coffin. Everything moved so slow. So strange. But those colors eventually formed shapes. Those shapes eventually formed meaning. His head was held by that gentle touch. Made to stare down at his newly formed machine.
First was his chest. A beautiful delight! Pried open to reveal his hearts. An empty cavity set aside by one, a beating mound set aside by the other. A tube pulsated. Beating along the heart in him. Moving the green liquid through him. In rhythm. In harmony.
Second was his arms. A tender metallic sheen! Bioluminescent glowed dim in the soft light, showing his beautiful veins. Flowing gentle beneath the mechanical twisting muscular structure. Strength that could rip apart anyone. Could break apart anything. Even the soul.
It was beautiful!
It was just as disgusting.
"Can you hear me?"
Yes. Yes… now he could. That voice was familiar. A voice that vibrated through the inner reaching of his mind cradling his soul. It was young. Full of life. Yearning. Wishing. Wistful. Aching as he did. He wanted to embrace that soul. That feeling. That emotion. Touch the one who touched him. Revel in the delight of it.
His gaze took him heavenward to that reploid. To that familiar voice.
And he saw… Him!
Yes. That was him. Zero knew that reploid well. The man that would visit him in those wonderful dreams that stained his soul like glass. So often would he find that man in his visions of unrest. Watching from afar like the reaper to take the soul. Replacing the ones he loved so dear and copy his love. Holding his mind so tight in his fingertips that it might explode into stars. The purple armor that would glisten in the same sun that Zero stood. A smile that would replace the same smiles he loved the most. Etching the patterns across his mind and dancing upon the laughter and joy he felt. Replacing each part of him. One by one. Embracing him into ecstasy. Replacing his body into God. The voice that would soon replace and dismiss all those he had remembered before.
GATE.
He looked at Zero. Smiling. A happiness that was indescribable. A happiness that made him sick.
Zero wanted to scream. Wanted to curse him into hell. Wanted to curse himself back into sleep. Wanted to so desperately pry away himself from the body. To cut himself open and destroy the 'self' back into that death. Back into that sleep.
"You don't need to speak." Gate pressed his finger to Zero's lips. "I already know what you want to say."
No!
So dearly Zero wanted to screech the words. Desperately he wanted to call out into hell to let him be brought back to those gates of flame. He wanted to tell him to empty his chest and cast them into the ocean. Wanted to tell him to take his data chip and break it into stars. Wanted to tell him to destroy any piece of DNA that was left within him. Wanted to beg for mercy, a mercy of death. But nothing came. Not a word split from his mouth as prayers were left unanswered. Only the wide open mouth. Only the emptiness of his voice. Only the emptiness of Gate's lips.
One thing Zero knew for certain.
A thought that echoed across his mind thousands upon thousands of times.
Endlessly repeating throughout his body and into his very bone.
Zero wanted to die.
But even the thought, the dream, set his body into convulsions as the drive to suicide repulsed him. Brought him to shame. Brought the system to his consciousness. Bringing him back into the machine. Back into the emptiness of humanity. Back into the shell.
The scientists cradled his hand upon Zero's cheek. Repulsed. Disgust. Zero grit his teeth, staring at the other scientist. Yet he could not push him away. Could not move away. All he could do was lay there. Still on the table. Consumed by the fires of hate. Consumed by the human nature to cry. Yet there would be no tears for a machine meant to kill. For what does the killer have to give but the hand of release.
"Don't worry, Zero." He was sweet. He was beautiful. He was sin. "You'll be safe with me."
No!
"No one will hurt you anymore."
Don't touch me!
"Together, we will build a new world."
Stop!
"A perfect world."
Please...!
"For only us reploids…. And machines…."
The ceiling became a familiar spot. It was the only thing he could stare at as the days presumably passed. The only thing he would let himself stare at as the emptiness washed over his body. The waves of the ocean. The waves of sadness.
Gate would visit often to his side. Watching Zero carefully. Touching him across his body. Sometimes it would incite pain. Sometimes it would incite comfort. But it was a maddening feeling all the same. Often, he would speak to Zero. Telling him of a world that they would build together. But never would he activate Zero's voice. Perhaps he knew what Zero would reply.
Perhaps he was scared of what Zero would reply.
Sometimes there were others. A reploid of an old man. Beastloids of all types. Dead machines. Dead reploids. Sometimes he searched for anything familiar in the dead. But often they were of things that Zero had never seen before. Maybe he searched to find comfort in the fact that no one was there he knew. Perhaps he searched to find comfort knowing someone he knew was out there once. Maybe… he just wanted some familiarity.
He would see his reflection often. Himself. Purple armor. Pale features. Grey hair. It looked at him with disgust. Most times, he likened it to his soul. A blackened feature staring at himself in disgust over the body he inhabited. Yet it never killed him. Never touched him. Never spoke a word. Only staring at him. Only becoming him. Only replacing him.
He found this other comforting. Found that this other was the only thing that might be his true self. Though they never spoke he knew it was his other soul. He felt it his other soul. The part of his soul he locked away so deep within. The part of his soul that only yearned for blood. The part of his soul that only wanted to kill and be released into senseless desires.
Hardly he would slip back into the dream. Fearing to be sent back into another hellish nightmare. Not that it mattered if he slept or not. The constant energy that flowed through his body ensured that sleep was an option, not a necessity. There were times he wanted to drift off into that wonderful feeling, but Zero would fear what they would do to his body should he let his guard falter. But, at the same time, the feeling of helplessness was overbearing. Should he sleep he did not know, should he know he could not bear. Endlessly the feeling would not stop. Despair. Anxiety.
Sometimes he longed for the touch of Gate. Perhaps because it was the only touch that was not mechanical. Or, perhaps, it was coded into him whilst he slept. It was all so overwhelming. All so horrifying.
Every moment was the same. Gate would return. Whisper things to Zero's ears. Type on his computer. Touch his body. Then leave. The cycle was endless.
Until it wasn't.
Zero opened his eyes. Watching the ceiling. An unfamiliar voice echoed through the room. Carefully he turned his head to watch the conversation.
"The final preparations are almost complete, Wolfang." Gate handed a data pad to a brilliant white wolf beastloid. "Metal Shark Player will fulfil his role here as will Nightmare. You must do the same."
He watched as the ice glittered down his back. That name was familiar to him.
"I will do as you wish, Dr. Gate." Wolfang nodded his head carefully taking the data pad.
"Good," Gate smiled. "Do not disappoint me."
He heard the fading footsteps. The opening and closing of the door. Yet the white wolf stayed pacing through the room, reading the data pad. Slowly he came closer. Zero could feel the brilliant cold. A welcome to the persistent heat that muddled this place. Carefully, he watched. The brilliant blue eyes watching carefully. Deranged. Maddened.
"I see… so I shall pinch them here…" the white wolf muttered. "Ah… I see that…" a whisper. "And X…"
Zero gasped at the name muttered.
X…? He is still alive?
X.
That name he had not heard forever. Only a thought existing in the mind that plagued his dreams. A thought that he felt was an illusion brought onto himself to find comfort in the death that soaked his frame. The yearning all came back to him. The happiness that he saw became his antidote for this deluded cage. The voice became a harmony to the endless metal ringing that consumed his mind. But would X desire to see him in this way? Would he even see Zero as the same person he had been before? Could Zero even reveal himself to him? Could they even come to understand one another as they did before?
The pitiful noise brought the white wolf's attention. He raised his head upward, staring around the room. Only for his eyes to meet Zero's.
"So… this is Zero…" Wolfang approached the corpse on the bed. Placing the data pad aside. He watched the other carefully and so too did the wolf. Their gazes affix upon each other. Though no words were spoken, they could see the thinking in their eyes. "Gate spoke the truth of fixing you I see." There was a silence as Zero did not reply. The white wolf tipped his head to the side. Confused. "Can you not speak, brave warrior?"
Carefully, Zero shook his head. Opening his mouth. "Ah-…" A grimace. A frustrated exhale. Brows furrowing. Bitter.
"I see then… Gate has chosen to leave you without a voice." Wolfang pulled a chair to sit in the same spot that Gate often would. Replacing the dread with a brilliant white. "That is a shame. I would have liked to have spoken to you."
Zero raised a brow. Confused. Wolfang smiled. At least, Zero thought that it was a smile.
"Do you know of the world outside?" Wolfang brought his paw up. A single claw. Zero shook his head in response. "Let me show you…" Carefully, Wolfang pressed it against his chest. Frigid. Freezing. Overwhelming. But the new sensation comforted Zero. "The sun set today. It is night. The sky was set ablaze in red and purple. Not a cloud in the sky." Slowly he brought his claw back.
Zero closed his eyes, envisioning this.
"The cold reminds me of my home," Wolfang murmured. Zero opened his eyes, watching the white wolf. He could see him think of home.
Home. Where was his home now?
Slowly, Wolfang returned his paw to his side. The emptiness of the freeze settled on Zero. He wanted it back. Wanted that cool icy touch. Wanted the feeling of something else than agony. Wolfang could see the frustration on Zero's face. Could see the disappointment etch across his body at the soft lurch from the feeling gone.
"It hurts to see you disgraced like this." The white wolf shook his head with a sigh. Was he too troubled by the feeling of agony in this solemn place? "I know what you must be thinking: How could I allow myself to be used by Gate?" Wolfang breathed a cool sigh onto the bed. Feeling the sparks of snow at his fingertips. Zero felt alive. "But I have a debt to repay. He brought me back from the dead. Even if it wasn't something I wanted, I am at peace with my destiny. I suppose I should thank you as well. If Gate had never found you, I wouldn't be alive here, once more."
Zero furrowed his brows confused. Then a memory flashed. Yes. That was why he was so familiar. Zero could recall that far off memory of once investigating the cause of Wolfang's death. How he had been labeled Maverick. How he had been pushed off into the unforgiving ocean. The details didn't add up, and Zero had been suspicious of a conspiracy. But the trail had gone cold, and more important issues had taken its place.
Eurasia.
The memory of that cursed satellite seared into his body and soul. The place which should have been his grave. The place that had now scarred the Earth forever. He wondered what it looked like outside now.
Zero opened his mouth to speak.
There was nothing.
So many things Zero wished to say to Wolfang. So many questions in his mind. 'What has the world become?' 'What has happened to the Maverick Hunters?' 'Did I truly create a world for peace?' 'Where am I now?'
A single agonized breath. Only to deflate back into his coffin. Submitting to the solitude of nothing. Frustrated again by the lack of information. Frustrated again by the prison. Zero turned away.
"I do not hate you for what you cannot control. Nor do I hate Dr. Gate." Wolfang rose from his seat. Zero did not want him to leave. Yet the machine could not allow himself to reach out to grab the other's hand. To bring him back to the cold embrace. Only silence as the wolf rose high to heaven, and Zero looked away. "Being alive gives me a chance to amend my failures. It is a gift."
I guess you're right.
Zero closed his eyes.
This gives me a second chance to make my mistakes right.
Drifting back to sleep.
But what mistakes do I have when the mistakes were the ones forced on me?
Zero kept a careful eye on Gate as he sat next to him. Typing away at his computer as he always did. Passing data chips in and out of the computer. Looking at code. Encrypting files. Flipping through physical pages of his journal. It was often that Zero would watch Gate work beside him. Either compiling code. Working on armor. Or whatever other project that he had within the same room that Zero was kept in.
Never did Zero attempt to engage, or try to engage, with talk. It was always Gate who initiated. Speaking a greeting, a caress of words, only for Zero to turn away from him and ignore him. Sometimes they were spiteful. Sometimes they were enamored. Sometimes, there was nothing.
But today… Zero tried.
Zero inhaled a deep breath, pursing his mouth together, and blew air towards Gate. It was the only way he could 'speak'. He watched the scientist pause for a moment, unsure of what he had felt, before returning back to his work. Zero would try again, only giving a broken sigh. "Ah—." The voice broke and fizzled in attempt to speak. There was a feeling of impatience at Gate. For once, Zero was attempting to make conversation, and the other couldn't even bother to respond when Gate had so many times lured him into him with his soft voice.
"Hm?" Gate paused his work, finally, turning in his chair to look at Zero who was staring deep at him. A brow was raised at the other. Almost surprised that Zero was attempting to talk to him. "Zero?" He moved closer.
Let me talk. Please.
Zero mouthed some words. Gate merely watched. Then… he smiled.
But it was always that wicked grin. A grin that only a devil would make. A grin that meant nothing but more torture and pain. A grin that destined him for the machine to overtake the shell once more. For Zero to feel nothing. Alas, Zero was used to it by now. Perhaps he could play the game that Gate had set. After all, life was like chess. Life was all about war.
"You finally want to speak to me?" Gate questioned. Zero nodded his head. Slowly. Unsure. It was almost as if Gate could see right through him. Right into his very soul. Perhaps he chose to ignore the warning signs. Or, perhaps, he felt like being an angel. "One moment…"
Gate stood from his seat. Walking around to the top of Zero's head. He felt his hair pull back. A wire inserted to the back of his head. Several keys were pressed. Shifting clothes. Shifting bodies. A minute passed before Gate walked back to his vision.
"You can speak." Zero opened his mouth, but before he did Gate held a finger. "Ah! But if you scream, I will be sure to remove your voice box. Are we clear?" Zero furrowed his brows. A frown. Before a nod. Gate sat back in his seat with a smile, before motioning towards Zero with his hand. He was simply the hostage, and Gate had full control. "Now, Zero. Tell me, how do you feel?"
There wasn't a word that could describe how Zero felt. In fact, there was nothing to describe how he felt. What could he even tell Gate to summarize the exact feeling he felt? Pain? Agony? Despair? Imprisoned? Disgusting? There were thousands upon millions of words that echoed through his mind. Words untranslatable that described thousands of hells. Words that simply described a single minuscule pain. What else could Zero do but laugh at the audacity to such a question? In fact, it was all he could do. A laugh that resounded throughout the room. Echoing from one side to the other. Piercing. Crying. Agonizing. A cry that came from the soul. A laugh that came from the machine itself. A laughter that split him into two.
It would falter eventually. It would fade with time. Zero would look upon Gate again. A disgust on his face. "I feel like I'm in hell." Gate only nodded his head. Unphased by such a response. It angered Zero. Angered him that Gate still saw him as some pet project. Not as a 'living thing' that he tore from heaven. "Why?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Gate shook his head. "I'm asking the questions, dear Zero."
Zero sneered. "Don't you think I deserve to know why you brought me back!?" He deserved to know. Deserved to know why he existed again.
"I already explained it to you. To create a world where reploid and machine can exist." Gate spoke matter of fact, without missing a beat. But Zero could hardly believe that was the only reason for his meaningless existence. "Whilst you were dead, what did you—"
Before Gate had finished his question, Zero shook his head. Slamming his hand hard onto the table. For a moment, Zero could see the fear in Gate's eyes. See how he barely recoiled backwards in fear at an impending death. Even if he kept that smile, that devil's grin, Zero knew well that should Gate's senses falter, Zero could easily tear his fingers deep into his body. Consuming. Tearing. Peeling away it all. Even if he was a hostage to this beautiful mausoleum, Gate still was holding hostage a war machine. The perfect killing machine. "No." He stared at Gate with teeth grit and bare. The anger and madness was sinking deeper into him. Whilst Gate sat calm and sane. "Why was it me? I want to know why. Why me?"
Gate opened his mouth to reply, before pausing a moment. Zero could see that there was part of him that didn't want to give him a proper reply, and the other part of him that did. It was… surprising for Zero. Surprising that the other was having a battle of morality between himself. All over the simple question of Zero's existence. Over his suffering. Eventually, Gate would give him a smile and sigh. Shaking his head side to side. As if he had given up. As if Zero had won some fight. Like a child winning a piece of candy for begging.
"It was for your soul." Gate smiled down at Zero. Watched as Zero recoiled back. Recoiled back into the machine. He stood. Placing a hand upon Zero's chest. Watching him suffer. Watching him squirm. "At first, I thought it was because I wanted to make something for myself. You see, Zero, I am like you. I was betrayed by those I thought cared for me. I gave them everything, and in return, they defiled my soul." Gate's smile turned into a frown, the anger replacing the serenity.
I'm nothing like you.
"A long time ago, I was a scientist that wanted to do good for the greater world. Do not think me heartless." Gate lifted his hand. Standing before Zero. The prayer to the saint. "So, to help the world, I built reploids. They were the model of perfection! Angels, almost!" He lifted his arms up to the sky. "But… humanity… and machines… fear perfection. They became envious and greedy and destroyed what I gave them." He lowered his hands, dropping his head down over Zero's corpse. "They killed them in a conspiracy against me. Labeled them as Maverick. Tainted that perfection I sought because they coveted my success." Gate shook his head, sighing.
A laugh would echo through the room soon enough. A clarity washing over Gate as he stared at Zero. A freedom of his mind.
"I wanted to prove to them that I could help people by bringing you back." Gate smiled at Zero. Reaching his hand out to gently touch Zero's cheeks. Embracing his creation. "But over the past few years working on you I've come to realize something… You've shown me that no one cares about us... So why should we try to save them?"
"You're insane!" Zero spat back.
"Am I!?" He grinned at Zero, stepping back from the coffin. "Don't you think someone would have come saved you by now? Don't you think the world should have been reborn from the ashes?" Gate laughed at Zero. It pierced through his soul. Setting the decay further into his heart. "You're wrong… the world is exactly the same as it once was. Nothing has changed. In fact, I believe that it has only become worse." There was that smile again. That terrible smile. "In fact, let me show you myself."
Gate approached the casket. Slowly, he released the binds that held Zero. The pipes, the wires, the endless flow of the heart that would beat through his chest. It was practically instinct that Zero shot up to grab at Gate. His hands grasping the scientist's neck. Digging into the fleshy synthetic skin. So easily he could break the other apart. Ending this nightmare. Ending this charade. The body, the soul, the system, so desperately wanted to see Gate's insides decorated on Zero's hands.
But Zero couldn't.
Desperately he wanted shred through the other's body. Wanted to return the favor of death unto the scientists. But no matter how hard Zero seemed to will his hands into Gate's body it seemed as if the act of killing Gate was sin. So dearly his hands trembled wrapped around Gate's neck it was if his coding had stopped him from harming the most precious person to him. It frustrated Zero's mind. Frustrated his soul. Yet, the system, seemed to have been content.
The unbridled rage turned to confusion. It turned to wanting. Turned to… comfort.
"What?" slowly his grip relaxed. Gate merely smiled, taking a step back from Zero's grip. He motioned with his head to follow.
Zero stood still for a moment as Gate walked away. As if trusting Zero to be left in his casket. There was a moment that Zero looked around the room properly. Noting the semi-completed projects within his room. Noting the schematic of Zero's own body. His own heart that was set aside on the table.
Eventually, he would turn away from his coffin. Breaking free from the morgue to step into the world.
Zero followed Gate closely, noting the layout of the laboratory. Having walked through hundreds, perhaps thousands, Gate's laboratory felt more like a morgue dedicated to life. Dismantled reploids laid upon tables. Metal containers filled with half disassembled machines. Creations of madness sprawling through hallways. Computers that filtered data that Zero could barely keep track of. As Zero walked through the defiled land, he noticed some other scientists. Reploid. Human. They seemed to have practically bowed to Gate's step, holding their head in reverence to his passing, hardly giving Zero a glance.
Zero strained to hear what they whispered beneath their breath. Though he could only make out some words that seemed to have worshiped Gate's greatest project (whom Zero assumed to be himself), a pain began to settle deep within the machine's chest. There was a gasp as Zero carefully paused by a wall. A hand gripping to his chest feeling as if a stone had settled into his body. Weakness overcoming him as it felt as if his body could no longer walk. A rush of light-headedness.
Gate approached Zero, a careful hand placed upon Zero's chest. "Ah… Careful." Gate whispered to Zero. His hands pulled Zero's away from where his heart should have been. Gate seemed to nod his head as he mumbled to himself, with the machine simply looking away at the disgusting presentation of himself to all those that peered upon them. "Hmm, I see. You'll be fine." Gate gently touched the gap in Zero's chest. Carefully placing away the wires that hung from him. "Just pain," he offered Zero a smile, which was returned with a scowl. Yet Gate still smiled, a gentle laugh, before he stepped back and turned. He beckoned Zero forward.
The scowled stayed planted on Zero's face as he stood there. Watching Gate as he stepped deeper into his laboratory. Watched as the man with power over him bid him closer. Bid him deeper into his sanctum.
What am I doing?
Gate turned back once more. Staring at Zero who stood still. They said nothing. Only stared.
What do I hope to find?
Gate stretched his hand out. Beckoning the machine. Beckoning the system. He led him to Eve's apple.
Zero walked forward. Carefully. Gate took Zero under his wing. Pressing his hand to his shoulder. A smile. "You want to see the world you made?" Gate whispered to the machine. He pressed a hand to the door's pad. Pressed several buttons. Brought him to an elevator.
Zero stared forward. Emotionless. He felt the elevator pull them upward. "The world has changed," Zero glanced towards Gate. A perpetual scowl. "I believe in X."
Gate smiled. A sick laughter escaping the empty elevator. Echoing. "You really think he changed anything." He pushed his hand against Zero's back as the elevator came to a stop. Edging him towards the outdoors. "Then go. Look at the world that your friend created. Look at the world you saved." The elevator slid open. A hallway sat before them. Zero stared forward stepping outside the doors. Carefully he took several steps forward. The system was quiet.
He looked back at Gate who followed Zero slowly. His hands behind his back. "This isn't some trap?"
Gate shook his head, still smiling. "Where would you go?" Gate stopped next to Zero. "There's nothing out there for you anymore. You belong here now."
Zero narrowed his eyes. The system still slept. Quiet. This place was quiet. He hated it. Slowly he parted from Gate, walking down the empty hallway. His steps echoing through the metal corridor. He could hear the wind howl. Sense the emptiness of the outdoors. Before him stood the door to the outdoors. The door to his freedom. Though he wished for death, he longed to see that beautiful sky. The blue and red and purple that Wolfang would regale. The cold of the night, the warmth of the day. Ah… he recalled those beautiful days. The sun kissing his face as he would sit atop the HQ. Staring at the stars that lit overhead that made the night sky so beautiful. Sitting with Iris. Sitting with X. Sitting by himself.
That was the beauty he envisioned.
But the door opened, and that world disappeared alongside the wind that blew.
The world outside was defiled.
There was no beauty that marked the landscape that Zero saw.
The sky was bleak. Tainted by a perpetual yellow. Lightning flashed across the sky tearing the desolate quiet apart with roars of thunder. Radioactive swirls gushed across the plains. Bowls of dust tumbled in the distant as winds etched the land. Animal carcasses laid barren upon the dry desert begging for the mercy that Zero once had. Littered across the beautiful endless desert laid the resting place of Eurasia. The shards praying to the sky. The metal twisting into a disgusting canopy of hell.
The wind would howl sounding like screams.
It was a world of no paradise. A world with no hope. A world so different than the paradise he had envisioned.
Here… there was no hope.
Here… was death.
Zero trembled as he walked forward. His eyes wide, mouth agape, as his steps took him closer through the desert. The wind blew through him. His ghastly form etching through this place. Gate merely followed behind. The vulture to the dead.
"Children are still born into the world without hope, and yet we still pretend to them that we are happy." Gate stared out into the desert his face sullen. He too wept for the land without tears. As did Zero.
The machine slumped to the ground. He turned away, unable to stare at the world any longer. It pained him. Agonized him.
Was this the world that I wanted?
"Do you understand now?" Gate stood behind Zero. "I am giving you another chance, Zero." He carefully squatted down, placing a gentle hand on Zero's back staring down at the machine. "I am giving you another chance to recreate the world that you want. To save the people from the nightmare." His hand reached to the other's neck. Pulling Zero to stare at him. Their eyes locked. The agony. The terror. The madness. "But I will be giving everyone their due. And you're going to help me."
Zero shook his head. "I won't. I refuse."
Gate simply stared, betraying not a hint of anger. "Where will you go?" he asked again. And Zero remained quiet.
He closed his eyes once more. Letting the emotions wash over him.
Is this my legacy?