(Music: "Gjeilo: Sanctus (London)", by Tenebrae)
The entire crew was gathered in the Divinity Chamber. It had to be rather spacious to account for the 500-something odd crewmates, but it was entirely necessary for the Ritual. Every crewmate was kneeling in a full circle around a raised altar, where the body of Swansea, clothed in white robes, was gently laid upon the platform.
Disciples walked slowly up and down the small bridges that connected the platform to the outer ring, ritualistically spreading incense across the room. A large retinue of the crew was surprisingly skilled at singing, and were chosen as the choir for this Ritual. They sang in Latin, having fanatically practiced the verses for the last 10 months.
Every crewmate was donned in clergy robewear- pure white silk robes draped over the body like white doves. Even Hawkes was not exempt from this dress code- nor Curly, who was staring uncomprehending at the Ritual taking place.
"Wuh the fuck is happening..." Curly muttered under his breath, completely disconnected from the atmosphere. Hawkes leaned over and lightly smacked the back of his head.
"Don'tswear while we're in the Divinity Chamber. Clasp your hands together and pray for the revival of Swansea."
"...Wha...revival...? What..."
Hawkes groaned in frustration, trying to focus on prayer.
"Do I need to explain this for a fourth time?" Hawkes muttered in irritation. "Two months ago, the Era of Divinity began when a boy in Janma City was resurrected after his mother prayed over his body for hours on end. This event was recorded on city cameras, which led to people across the galaxy attempting to replicate it. It became a widespread phenomena, so the various nations sent out their scientists to study it. After several days, we discovered that revivification (as they called it) was an achievable outcome for most deaths that occur in the world, barring natural causes."
"However, revivification was, at the time we discovered it, a fairly low chance of occurring. That is, until we began incorporating more Christian Orthodoxy practices into our attempts of revivif- revifivi- re... I hate this word so ,the chance of resurrection is far greater the more Christian rites, passages and practices we incorporate into the Ritual, as it has been termed. Do you get it now? Haven't I made it simple?"
Curly could only stare unwittingly at me, then back at the Ritual site.
"What... who is that? What are they doing?"
Hawkes signed in resignation. Maybe it was better to stick to one word answers.
"It's Swansea."
"Swansea... that's... that's him?"
"Yeah."
"..."
He fell silent, but Hawkes could see tears emerge in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Swansea. I'm sofuckingsorry!"
"Itoldyou not to- ah, whatever..."
There were certain rules to be adhered to in the Divinity Chamber; but Hawkes couldn't find it in himself to chastise this broken man. This was a depressing sight, overall.
Staring back at the Ritual site, Hawkes still couldn't comprehend how this had come into reality. He was eternally grateful that this had become reality for him, but he couldn't wrap his head around it. Was God partial to Christianity? Or did he revive people who prayed in other religious formats? Religion, as a whole, had largely died out during the 2150s, but Christianity was one of the only religions that still possessed historical records of its origins. People had flocked to it after the Era of Divinity began.
It was so surreal...
The choir quieted for a moment, as the Arch Cardinal Jezarit (Jazz) stepped unto the platform, carrying a communion wafer and cup of wine. He began a short speech.
"We are gathered here, this day, to celebrate the return of life to a good man, husband, father and devoted laborer of engineering. Swansea Harold was an enigmatic figure who'd come from a rough upbringing and a rougher young adulthood. He turned his life around at the age of 28 to marry a beautiful wife who would go on to bear two children of his own. He was employed with Pony Express and spent a good portion of his adulthood working diligently in his role as the Chief Engineer of the Tulpar. He died a terrible death within the Tulpar, shot twice and desecrated."
The Arch Cardinal placed the wafer in Swansea's mouth, then poured a sizable amount of wine over the wafer, watching it cascade under the parted lips and down his throat. Jezarit then placed the goblet aside and knelt on his knees, clasping his hands together in prayer.
"Lord God Almighty, we humbly ask that this suffering soul be brought back from the Limbo Between Worlds, that his wondrous spirit be returned to his body and made anew, so that he may rejoice the love and mercy that The Lord shows us with his divine power."
He raised his hands as high as he could into the air, and chanted once.
"Lord God Almighty, we pray you deliver him from death!"
"Lord God Almighty, we pray you deliver him from death!"
The crew chanted in tandem with the preacher, and Curly looked around in utter disbelief; a cracked mind which couldn't make sense of anything.
"Lord God Almighty, ruler of Heaven and Earth, Father of Christ and man, King of Kings! O Lord, we pray for the resurrection of our brother in Christ, Our Lord, so that he may be cleansed of sin and made whole!"
"Amen!"
"Lord God Almighty, let us bear witness to the resurrection of our brother in Christ, Our Lord, Amen!"
"AMEN!"
Hawkes continued to chant with his eyes closed, but he wasn't sure if there was supposed to be a feeling of divinity coursing through him or not. He'd never done this before, so he had no idea of what expectation to have. As surreal as this was, the one thing he wanted to do was bring these people back.
"Please, God..."Hawkes pled under his breath."I pray for his return."
Seeing Hawkes pray so fervently along with everyone else, Curly was sure he'd lost his sanity. What was going on? They were praying for Swansea's resurrection? This must be a cult, he thought. Surely, he had been abducted by a cult. This was nearly incomprehensible.
And yet, when he peered at the altar, seeing Swansea's body laid out over the altar, Curly couldn't help but break down sobbing. He knew he was responsible for what happened. He knew. It hurt too much for him to not know.
He wanted to turn back time. He wanted to redeem himself for his sheer stupidity and ignorance. That he could be so blind to the demon he called his 'friend'. That he turned a blind eye to Anya's rape. That he doomed his crew because of one bad choice.
"Please... please... let me see them again... just one last time... just for one more minute... Please, God, let me see them..."Curly sobbed, clenching his fists in total frustration at himself.
-!
Without skipping a beat, an otherworldly feeling coursed through every human in that room. Their eyes shot open, and they bore witness to the most ethereal event they'd ever seen in their lives.
Swansea's body began to rapidly reconstruct itself, as if time were rapidly reversing in a small halo around his body. His gunshot wounds dissipated; mummified skin turned to smooth, pink flesh; bereft eyes laden with moisture and clarity; bruises and welts evaporating entirely.
A man was being reborn, right before everyone's eyes.
And just as quickly as it had come about...
It left.
...
...
...
Swansea shot up from the altar, gazing around frantically.
"What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Swansea was beside himself, cursing and screaming in terror as he fell off the altar, stumbled onto his feet and tried running away from the procession.
"WHERE AM I? WHAT? WHAT?!WHAT?!"
Hawkes was beyond words. He could hardly describe the feeling of seeing someone long-dead suddenly jump back to life. Holy shit.
God was real. God was... had just witnessed a dead man come back toLIFE!
But whatever complex emotions Hawkes was feeling in that moment, was absolute dust compared to the mental shock Curly was going through.
He had just watched Swansea get up and start moving around. He had just watched someone he'd seen die, get up. He had... failed to comprehend what his lying eyes were showing him.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. He couldn't hear. He couldn't breathe. He was in abject horror that, if even for a half-second, he tried any of those things, he would lose the illusion of seeing Swansea alive again.
"This is just... amazing." Hawkes muttered with incredulity, beginning to tear up. "Curly, I told y- What the hell? Stop that, Curly, you idiot!"
Curly's face had turned blue from holding his breath for so long, so Hawkes punched him in the gut to bring him back to reality. Curly gasped for air, a bit of sanity restored from the pain.
"I..." Curly whispered, inconsolable by every measure. "I..."
"Alright, don't lose your shit again, bud." Hawkes said, tapping him on the shoulder. I need to go question Swansea for a minute, so start praying again, because Daisuke's up next."
"H-Huh...?"
Hawkes, who was completely tone-deaf to social environments, left a mentally-shattered Curly kneeling by himself, forced to try and comprehend the series of events that had just occurred.
"GET YOUR FUCKIN' HANDS OFF ME, SHITHEADS! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!"
"Swansea! I know you're a bit addled right now, but I- GRK!"
Swansea had wrestled out of the officers' hold on him and delivered a solid right hook to Hawkes' face, sending him careening to the floor. Swansea attempted to book it for the nearest exit but was promptly tackled and restrained by nearby officers. He continued to curse out his captors and shout incessantly in confusion and shock.
Hawkes got up from the floor, groaning in pain.
"That son of a bitch has a mean swing on him." Hawkes said in admiration. "Get him to Interrogation ASAP!"
Swansea was roughly sat down in the chair and his hands were cuffed to the table. He resisted heavily against it at first, but over time his fury died down, and he was left glaring at Hawkes from across the table.
"Thanks for being so cooperative with us today, Mister Swansea!"
"EAT ME, FUCKNUGGET!" Swansea shouted back in a fit of desperation and madness.
"Uh huh. So, you're probably wondering how you got here-"
"Where the fuck am I? Where's Daisuke? Where's Anya?! Where's Curly?!"
His eyes suddenly glazed over, and an even more powerful rage possessed him.
"WHERE'S JIMMY?! WHERE'S THAT SELFISH PIECE OF SMEARED SHIT?!"
"Jimmy seems to be a popular guy amongst your crew. Would you like to know what is going on, or would you rather keep throwing fits?"
Swansea, though addled by so many different emotions and experiences at the moment, heard clearly the words of Hawkes. Grumbling threats and curses, he sat down begrudgingly at the table.
"Thank you. So. You've been resurrected."
"What the fuck are you rambling about?"
"Let me finish, okay? I'll give you a short synopsis."
Swansea stayed silent, electing instead to glare daggers at Hawkes.
"So," Hawkes started. "I'll just stick to chronology. Your ship crashed a year ago, on January 24th. Luckily for you and the crew of Tulpar, "Last Human-Manned Freighter for Pony Express Stranded in Remote Deepspace" was a very compelling headline. Your story gained intragalactic fame, and eventually our home nation, Canaris, who was the most closely-located to the crash site, volunteered to send out a vessel to retrieve the freighter and its crew. Eight months into the travel, we had deduced that the chances of your crew surviving after so long, what with the dwindling resources you had, that you would starve to death before we reached you."
Hawkes raised his hands sheepishly.
"Being as frank as possible, we were about to ditch you lot and head back home. Then..."
Hawkes did finger guns at Swansea, making the 'pew-pew' sounds as he did so. Swansea was entirely unamused.
"...In comes the Era of Divinity. To make a long story short, humanity discovered resurrection, and found out not only the existence of souls, but of God as well. We've been given the opportunity to bring back people who were wronged in life, back to life. The same goes for the guilty. The exact parameters would take a long time to explain, so that's the short-form summary."
Hawkes politely placed his hands on the table, signaling he was finished talking. Swansea stared at him for quite a while, and Hawkes was beginning to wonder if his brain was functioning.
"That's your explanation?" Swansea mumbled derisively.
"Yep. That's the history." Hawkes replied, almost sardonically. He was well aware it was a bizarre concept to wrap one's mind around, so he didn't necessarily want to be mean-spirited to someone who had gone through so much-
"You're a fuckin' idiot." Swansea replied in contempt.
"I beg your pardon?" Hawkes inquired as he leaned in performatively.
"I said you're a goddamn fuckin' idiot."
"Don't take the Lord's name in vain, please."
Swansea cupped one hand over his face, staring at the metal table in between his fingers.
"What the fuck? Was all that just a fuckin' nightmare? Was I hallucinating? I don't understand anything. It had to be an acid trip. Or a nightmare. Yeah. That's it."
"Don't try to overthink there, buddy." Hawkes replied mischievously.
"Shut the fuck up." Swansea replied, still holding that contempt in his voice. "You're not gonna indoctrinate me into your shitty cult based off a bad acid trip."
"From the looks of you, it seems like you need some discipline in your life, Swansea."
"That's rich, coming from the most pompous-looking prick I've ever glimpsed in my life. Do the fancy pauldrons make your dick feel bigger?"
"The only measurement contest you'd win would be waist size."
"You wanna talk athleticism, yet I clocked you earlier. I guess all that fitness doesn't increase your reaction time, does it?"
Hawkes cracked a grin. He liked this guy.
"Well..." He said, getting up from his chair and scooting it in most gracefully. "I suppose I don'thaveto convince you. I'll just head over to the Divinity Chamber to seeDaisukereturn-"
"DAISUKE?!"Swansea shouted in alarm. Hawkes turned his head, revealing a smirk.
"If you can tone down the cursing and sarcasm, accompany me to the Divinity Chamber. You'll get all the proof you need. But you'll have to pray with everything you have."
As Swansea entered the Divinity Chamber with Hawkes, he immediately spotted Curly, and didn't comprehend it; he was so used to seeing Curly as a charred amputee, the sight of Curly simply did not compute in his head.
Curly, on the other hand, could only whimper and shiver in discomfort as he watched a living, breathing Swansea walk past him. His mind was still recovering from the agony of his former state, and now he had to grapple with the reality of resurrection.
It would take him a while to begin recovering mentally.
"So?" Swansea posed a question to Hawkes. "What the fuck were you talking about-"
"Please stop cursing when you enter this room."
Swansea was initially annoyed by Hawkes' rigid demand, but his cunning and curious nature diverted his response to a question.
"Why?"
Hawkes turned his head, his eyes searching Swansea's own.
"Because," Hawkes stated. "I'm gonna be quite plain with you. Cursing and sinning in a Holy Sanctuary can, quite literally, result in misfortune."
"Wh... What does that mean?"
"It means exactly as its said. If you want some personal examples, when were first constructing this chamber, one of our construction workers was smoking a cigarette and cursing like a sailor near some scaffolding. One of the support beams collapsed, and an activated plasma cutter fell down and cleaved through his lower arm. Five days after that, a maintenance engineer was boinking a female from Medical in this chamber, and within minutes an electrical wire snapped and electrocuted the f-...mess...out of them. Wasn't fatal, but they lost feeling in their -get this-sanitary areas,hehehahaha!"
Swansea did not share the same giddiness that Hawkes did, and instead stared at him like he was demented.
"You're fu-... you're sick in the head."
Hawkes sighed. "Give me a break, man. The last two months have changed my whole world. Same for everyone else. Anyways..."
He pointed to the altar, where Daisuke in blue robes was being laid upon. The crew was taking a quick break off their knees due to the aching, but the disciples continued their incense ceremony.
"Daisuke is up next for resurrection. Would you like to-"
"Daisuke... Daisuke! DAISUKE!"
Swansea was about to rush toward the altar, but Hawkes rigorously grabbed his shoulder and threw him to the ground. Swansea tumbled, getting back up on his feet in a rage.
"DO YOU WANT YOUR ASS WHOOPED?!"
"Listen!"Hawkes urged him. "You don't believe me and my supposed horsesh-...crapstory about resurrection? All I'm asking is that you wait just afew a few minutes, Swansea. That's literally all I'm asking. Kneel, pray for Daisuke's resurrection, and just keep praying. Okay?"
Swansea seemed as if he were on the edge of throwing another punch at Hawkes' face. The veins in his neck and forehead were bulging in rage.
"I swear, on everything I am..." Swansea muttered maliciously. "If you're playing me for afool...I'm going to murder you, right here and now."
"Well, I mean, thereisa small chance that-... alright, fine."
Swansea knelt in grumbling fury, though I noticed that he tried to avoid cursing as much as possible. He himself seemed almost as uncomprehending of the situation as much as Curly; who was still sitting in the corner of the room, staring at the floor without moving a muscle.
Swansea stared with a great depression and shell-shock at the body of Daisuke; as if horrified at himself. Hawkes became curious. Was Swansea the one who killed Daisuke? Based on Swansea's reaction to the name, Hawkes had to assume that Swansea genuinely cared about him.
So it WAS a mercy kill,Hawkes thought to himself. This made sense in hindsight; he'd observed the multiple lacerations to Daisuke's body, indicative of electricity burns and gashes caused by punctures. It was likely he was dying a slow death and Swansea didn't want to see him suffer like that.
For a moment, Hawkes felt a mound of guilt. The more Hawkes unraveled this story, the more tragic it revealed itself to be. These people went to such lengths for each other, feel such guilt and love and yearning for safety, for one another.
All... ruined... by... one...fucking... R-A-C-H-E-L.
He twisted his radio on with a fury lit in his stomach. There was no doubt in his mind now, who theculpritwas. He just wanted to make sure the dots were connected.
"Caz."
"Yeah?"
"Keep Jimmy's corpse in confinement for now. We'll be resurrecting him separately. If he revives, drag him out of the Divinity Chamber straight to interrogation. Blindfold and gag him. Ensure he is chained up more than the Gauss Citadel."
"Roger that."
Hawkes switched the radio off, and continued praying. He glanced to his right to see Swansea silently sobbing, hunched over in misery and regret.
"Please, Daisuke... If this ridiculous idea is even remotely true... then come back, and live a full life... just come back... please... I'll do anything..."
"Lord God Almighty," Jezarit preached relentlessly. "Daisuke Juarez was a young man who came from a loving and wealthy family, who loved him but wanted him to find ambition. He spent much of his young life partying, making friends, and most importantly discovering himself."
"Lord God Almighty," Jezarit proclaimed proudly. "Daisuke was aimless when his parents sent him for an internship on the Tulpar. He spent much of his tenure under Swansea, the Chief Engineer, who guided him with a rough but intense affection, finding his youthful energy and charisma to be endearing and hopeful!"
Uh, how does Jazz know all this?Hawkes thought in utter confusion. Maybe divine knowledge? He couldn't doubt anything at this point.
"Lord God Almighty," Jezarit grieved with great sorrow and brevity, tears cascading down his eyes. "Daisuke tried to be of help to the crew, even when he was misled by a snake in the grass! He made a fatal mistake and suffered as grievously as those around him. He died to his mentor, who wanted to spare him the further suffering their circumstance provided in endless supply! O Lord, Almighty God, he has died a most tragic death, his soul restless for the yolk of life!"
"Please, Daisuke... you didn't deserve to die there... you didn't need to suffer like that... come back... come back to us... come back..."Swansea muttered, believing with everything he had in this bizarre ritual.
"Please, O Lord, Almighty Father!" The preacher cried out in desperation, falling to his knees and sobbing in unrelenting sorrow. "Please, bring us this lost soul once more, so that he may enjoy the fruits of life as it was intended! Let him bask in the beauty of this universe once more, so that he may depart from it many years from now, content and lived in joyous experience!"
"Please, God, bring Daisuke back to me..."
-!
There it was again. A divine energy- indescribably, inexplicable, yet undeniable in every sense of the word. It flowed through the room, timeless, undetectable yet felt completely, and swirled around the body of Daisuke.
It began once more. The lacerations, the bruises, the gashes, the infections, broken cartilage, bone, sinew, and brain matter- all restored as if nothing had touched the young man.
And then- it was gone.
...
...
...
"AAAAAHHH! AAAAHHH-!"
Daisuke flailed around wildly while gripping his face, and fell face-flat on the hard ground below. He groaned loudly as his nose bled from the impact. He steadied himself on the altar and slowly stood on his two feet.
"What... Huh?"
He wiped his own face, seeing blood in his palm. Confusion was the first thought, followed by alarm at his surroundings, and finally abject shock as he felt a massive weight tackle him over the altar, crashing to the ground.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!" He shouted in panic.
"DAIIIIISSSSUKKKKEEEEEEEE!"
Swansea wailed uncontrollably as he bear-hugged Daisuke, who was still utterly in shock at his surroundings.
"Am I dead? I'm dead, right?!"
His frantic questions were drowned out by the unrelenting wails of relief and pure happiness emitting from Swansea's cries. The crew who were kneeling in prayer momentarily stood up and cheered raucously at the joyful reunion between the two.
Hawkes smiled, a warm feeling of hope surging through him like wildfire. This isexactlywhat he wanted to do. He wanted to bring people back, to unite them through time and space- to give them the happy ending the universe never gave them.
He would do it, no matter what. He would help bring humanity to the utopia they so deserve. No more suffering. No more monsters. No more cruelty. No more sadness. No more tragedy.
From now on, his goal was to save every life that could be saved.
And he would start by making this crew whole once again.
Minus 1 little shit-eating cunt.
