A Horrifying, Yet Miraculous, Absolution
Ch. 0
[x]
Maria didn't say anything today, either.
Aged hands rubbed the underside of his chin; old back creaking in movement as he hit the side of the dining chair. It's plump feathers helped to alleviate the physical stress he held, but the mental…? Gerald had that nagged sense of worry and trepidation ring louder than-
A shake of the head. He shouldn't be so soundless when Maria was. Something was wrong with his precious granddaughter – something he could address and fix – HAD TO repair. She was at least at the table today; compared to the past three this was a massive improvement. Those eyes of hers were no longer empty and faraway; her body no longer limped over the sheets; the food placed before her was at least partially consumed. [Of course he had panicked. Gathered the doctors. Basically ordered them. Yet, Maria was 'fine' – as fine as it was her to possibly be, at least. Her brainwaves' charted erratic movement was the only hint of what had befallen the child, but even then that was well within normalcy. So, there she returned back to her room. Back where he had stared at her door, willing her to move. One night became two; three…] Clearing his throat, the scientist moved a warm cup of hot green tea closer to the child's dinner plate. "Maria," he begun, spilling as much warmth as he could muster, "was it Abraham?"
It didn't bring her out of that off, dazed expression. In fact, it didn't affect anything about her at all. Pensive lips crushed together. Had she had… a collapse? Was she trying to hide something from… him? Was it nothing related to her disease? Maybe he needed to undergo a different approach… "I know it's been difficult with you being alone here," Gerald attempted, hoping to the stars around that she would respond, "but you'll soon be getting a…"
He trailed off. One should never get attached to their experiments, but eventually one of his petri dishes' offshoots would stay alive. That lucky one should give Maria… some comfort. "Friend." It sounded strange on the lips: there was no guarantee that the first specimen to survive the latest changes would be responsive.
Blue eyes snapped up at that.
An action! Is this the right track? Was her state melancholy? Maria never complained about her isolation, but if this was the result of eventual mental wear and tear, he should have just given her that slight hope earlier – damn the consequences. He was not going to fail. He was a Robotnik. The quest for the Ultimate Lifeform will succeed. "I've had more growth in the lab once we've absconded the reptile."
Those eyes, finally attentive, remained on him.
Was she…? She was. She was holding her breath – the one her weak lungs needed. No, no; no. He needed to continue. Maria shouldn't be like this. Gently, he pushed back his chair and walked closer to his joy. It was a relief to know she didn't flinch back away – meant Maria wasn't upset at him – but her intensive gaze never left his face. "Would you like to see the-"
Those small hands – normally so pale with a grip of a newborn – slammed on to the table. With a rattle, the steel utensils fell off; hot drink sloshed; food scattered on the tablecloth. It was a mess.
Maria-
Never looked-
So-
Alive.
She still said nothing. Didn't have to. Gerald understood. "I think the present would be best, wouldn't it? Why don't we eat up later, hmm?"
In a blur, blonde hair the only thing he saw, his granddaughter reached to shoes. Dark, they slipped on with her years of experience. The expression never changed: Maria was filled with a sudden urge. A sudden need. She basically started to run – no, she did indeed sprint. Her breath had become heavy and louder as soon both their steps echoed the sterile walls with its endless glass visions.
[It scared him on a deep level. If he hadn't already checked that she had become bedridden by something not her disease, one might have called this a final gasp of energy. While her silence was not a symptom, he was going to call the medical wing as soon as the visit was complete. Just in case.]
Away they ran.
Ran.
Ran.
Her hands inputted the password to his lab with no hesitation. Gerald couldn't help but notice that each pound increased the trembles in the finger. Was it her excitement? That passion? Or was it…?
M-A-R-I-A
There was a near soundless grunt as her small frame pushed the door open with her entire might. The thundering echo ricocheted off the glass tubes; red in their blood-like nutritional fluids. Not everything was a good sight – in fact, some were straight ghastly. If it hadn't been for Maria's strange, and unnerving, actions of her mental state, he would have not allowed her to see… this. Some of the specimens didn't even have muscles attached to the bones or cartilage – those were the failures. His granddaughter didn't need them.
It was as if she read Gerald's mind. The pitter patter of a child's feet continued in the massive room. His strides easily kept up. He couldn't help but note of all the subjects that the duo passed: the dead array of lizards with cancerous growths, kept to seen where he had gone wrong; the strange, gel-like creatures of translucent cyan created in the image of an ancient deity [one that taught him how to inject Chaos; taught him how bodies, even artificial ones, could be wrought with few physical weaknesses]; the array of Chaos Drives that 'whispered' to entities with the ability to harness their glories [or so his researched hinted at]; past the newest series of tubes where the shapes of a Mobian floated; past that larva [and having never seen it before, Maria continued as if it wasn't worth her awe nor horror]. It was only when she reached the last filled tube where her lungs could carry no more burden. In defiance, those blue eyes turned desperate.
"Maria," Gerald panted himself as he crouched besides her shivering body, trying to stabilize what he could. By now, the tones of fear couldn't be hidden anymore. "What is it, what's wrong?!"
She didn't respond. Instead, her eyes roamed around, trying to find something. Eventually, they caught the stack of papers that held his preliminary results; the ones he was terrified to read because of the implications-
The hands of the child tore past the cover sheet. Eventually, they rested onto the line that simply had a series: PSUL2.018-BD. Simple. A cataloging system. In of itself, it meant nothing.
But not to his granddaughter.
What was once the object that held her attention became discarded. Flung towards the side. Useless. Before Gerald could ask again of what caused her pain, she lunged herself at the capsule that held onto the curled embryo of his next attempt at immortality. With the change of the angle, the red fluid finally revealed the small, infant lifeform within: crimson and ebony, the colors of his grave sin – one that reminded him of what he had done and would continue to do-
The change in Maria was instant.
Hands wrapped around the tube as far as they could reach, she created her first sound in almost a week. Tears escaped from closed eyes as her sobs filled the entire lab. Nothing coherent could be picked up – just the wails of a youth that struck Gerald to his core. It was everything: despair, grief, fear, loss, and agony. There was a gasp once more, an action so raw that it shook her whole body; reassessed herself that the subject was still before her. Maria's cried once again after that slightest of break, but this time… there was something new in the way her voice carried.
It was as if she had found salvation.
[x]
[[Author's Notes:]]
[[Been a while since I have done fanfiction.]]
[[Apologies.]]