[ a worse memory later is killing me after reading this why is adolphe always dead
to elysia's credit, she watches all of this without flinching or grimacing. she has witnessed a massacre too vivid to be forgotten in her own time, and it has steeled her more than enough to see this even if it is much worse to see the corpses or children, innocents who never deserved this. the more elysia learns of arpechele, the more she thinks it needs change.
of course, since these mirrors only reflect memories, she can only make one conclusion. ]
Lucas. [ she turns to look at him after she can tear her gaze away from the mirror, her surprise fading. she only seeks to understand. ] What were you doing?
[THIS IS NOT THE WORST HE HAS!!!! Adolphe is so dead and so are so many kids though, that part is pretty grim.
This is truly what Lucas believes he has to repent for - this sole, horrific loss of innocent life in one big, sweeping incident, that he still feels he may have been able to prevent if he had only been faster. If only he'd been in a more opportune place. If only Scien Brofiise hadn't fucking been there.
His expression is quietly reflective as the memory ends, though; throughout, he mostly just looks grim. The deaths aren't so fresh to him anymore, but they're still heavy, and it's still painful. He turns his attention back to her at that, though, his hands coming to fold together neatly.]
...I clean the filth that afflicts our home before it can become a festering wound.
[His eventual soft-spoken answer. The twisted, disgusting Royals, and the devil responsible for starting everything - he purifies all evil, or at least tries to.]
[ I KNOW IT'S NOT THE WORST I SEE THE SCALE IN YOUR PRETTY MEMORY MENU
he is so unwell. that's not exactly what elysia is thinking, but it's close enough. her brows furrow in worry. she saw the way he moved, saw the feelings that must have been behind every slash of his halberd. his answer does not ease her concern. ]
What is the filth? That man who protected that girl? Those guards? Why did they do that to those children?
Anyway this is fine and he is fine and normal. He's quiet for a second, just stepping around Scien for the time being to answer the second set of questions.]
Our nation is ill. The people don't care for the children. Many no longer have the ability to do so. As I heard it, that orphanage was attacked merely because of its association with an enemy of the Royals during a power struggle between the Royal Family and the Institute. That's all that it took.
[Easier said than done sure applies to a whole lot about their nation.
He thinks it goes without say, at least; the fault for the massacre lies in the Royal Family, even though he shoulders guilt for not being quick enough to stop it. At the question, his answer is immediate.]
Of course not. I would never harm an innocent life.
[He only seeks to purify. He has never spilled a drop of undeserving blood.]
[ she clocks the innocent modifier. she's silent for a moment, wondering how she should address this. elysia is one who speaks her mind, sincerely without fail, but she doesn't lack all awareness despite her forwardness. ]
[He glances toward the mirrors, toward the vestiges of a brutal and senseless massacre at the hands of those who felt no guilt, no hesitance, no remorse.]
Those who would torment, harm and destroy the innocent are guilty of unforgivable sin.
[People don't understand the work that he does; he's used to that. But he's defensive of and loyal to the god that's granted him miracles, so there's a faint and faintly displeased frown.]
Only the wicked fear divine light. My god is merciful and loving; I stand by all that I've said.
[ the changes of his expression are generally so minute when it doesn't involve his sister. she has observed that well enough, has spent enough time with him to tell. faint embarrassment, faint displeasure, faint amusement even when he's being a gremlin. fridays and saturdays when everything is tired but mostly calm.
it is only in his cloaked form that nothing is minute at all. what's unspoken is loud. ]
It's not criticism. Those how murder children don't deserve forgiveness. I only want to understand if the anger I saw in your polearm came directly from you or not.
I can accept if your god says to strike people down. It's fine if it's just you. I want to know more about you, Lucas. Won't you let me?
[He does, at least, seem to lose some of that displeasure when she specifies that she agrees. His emotions are a strange thing; very big, very faint. A hand rises and rests against his own chest, over his heart. A real, true human heart, in all its loudness and silence and ugly imperfections.
There is just a barest beat of a pause, but he'll share at least this much.]
Who else could it come from but me? This heart is mine, and so are the emotions it contains. I can't bear to see the innocent cut down so mercilessly and unjustly. Neither can a God as giving as mine. I act upon both my own judgment and on the word of God.
[ her expression gentles, and so does her voice. she breaches the distance between them and holds out her hands. ]
You hold yourself with a lot of restraint, and there are times when I don't know if you know you are holding yourself back. [ she understands catholic repression, but even catholics don't mind being dissatisfied about normal things. she remembers their conversation about trying to get him to talk about any troubles, even the most minor.
she glances to where the mirrors reflect his fury before turning back to look at him. ]
That is the most emotive I've seen you, and that's why it makes me worried.
[ she wants his emotions, but she doesn't want them like that. ]
[Oh... Well. He will reach out in return, though there's a bit of a pause because it's always surprising when people bridge the gap first in the wake of the violence he's capable of. Even though he believes it to be for the good, he knows that it's a frightening thing to witness, for some. He doesn't expect Elysia to be afraid, exactly; he just doesn't expect anyone to look kindly upon it without understanding more.
But he'll set his hands in hers, and his expression shifts again, apologetic - faint, still.]
I don't believe that I am, really. I may show restraint when I believe it to be better, but I always allow myself to feel my emotions. [Sometimes a binch just has so many faint emotions and also so many loud emotions.]
So please don't be worried. I apologize if it was an unpleasant thing to witness.
[ she has seen much worse violence. it's never healthy even if it's deemed necessary. it is not quite with kindness that she views what he thinks is divine justice, but it is because she does want to understand more that she is extending her hand.
her past is full of bloodshed anyway. ]
Is that so? I will be worried even if you say that. I will look at your past with my eyes open, no matter what it holds.
How many people know that's what you do, disguised?
[ because it doesn't look like many do in the memory. ]
[Sometimes you just are full of the spirit of divine retribution but don't get a cool alternate appearance for it. He does have his sweet, sweet serial killer fit, though.]
I can't stop you from worrying. I would never try to stop someone from feeling their own emotions, either. But it would be remiss for me to allow you to fret without saying that it truly isn't necessary...
[At the question, though:] Not many. [And then, after a bit of thought:] So I ask that you please keep it between the two of us.
[Because he adores Yves, and he knows his work is difficult to grasp, and the last thing he wants is to give Yves more reason to feel unhappy here.]
[ she could point out it makes him a serial killer, but perhaps today is not the time for that conversation. another day would probably be better when they both haven't witnessed 10 other memories from dozens of other people. we make them memshare when they're in love. ]
Does worry happen because it's necessary?
[ it's because she cares, stupid. (she doesn't think stupid.)
she's silent for a moment, deliberating. ]
All right. I will, unless you give me reason not to.
[ like if he becomes a murderer for some reason because it happens every week. ]
[NOT MORE MEMSHARES WHILE THEY'RE IN LOVE FUCKING HELP it'd be funny. But this is fine. They're doing a lot on this Monday. There is so much to process.]
Worry doesn't abide by logic. I do know that well.
[He worries all the time when he shouldn't... But he just smiles at that, seemingly pleased with the acquiescence. He is back to his usual faint sort of pleasant demeanor.]
But they do know that... Lucas is not thinking of the influenced murders right now, though. He's just feeling at peace once again, glad that Elysia is understanding, even if she doesn't understand in full. don't forget to give me my memory back hits you with a brick]
elysia has always known she was different for as long as she could remember, but she didn't know how. it's only been recently that's starting to figure it out, starting to place what it is that makes her different. the problem is that all her friends are figuring it out at the same time.
the mirrors reflect elysia, waiting by herself or with a robotic and AI companion, as she is left behind.
the problem is that they're figuring it out by having meetings without her to talk about her, and she doesn't like being distanced that way. she doesn't want all her memories, all her bonds, or her existence to be a lie, but she is coming to terms with it.
she has to, with what her world has come to. when humanity is dying and civilization is reaching its extinction, she has to. after she has a long conversation with one of her dearest friends, eden, she thinks for a long, long time.
elysia is a herrscher. to everyone in her era, herrschers are humans turned into vessels for the honkai. they are humans that may no longer be considered humans and no longer retain any humanity left in them, and they have just destroyed the last three major cities of her world. herrschers can't help but be humanity's enemy, and humanity in elysia's era can only see them as an enemy. if this is all true, why is she the way she is?
and why is thinking of what can she do to give hope for a future?
she can put on makeup for the first and last time in her life. as she sits in front of her mirror in her bedroom, she talks to herself, as it to confirm what she's doing is what she wants and what is right for her.
she will hold a banquet and invite all her friends.
it will be a banquet for the thirteenth herrscher.
(it will be a crusade against the thirteenth herrscher.)
[GOD THERE ARE SO MANY HUMAN-SHAPED PEOPLE HERE WHO ARE AND AREN'T TRULY HUMAN.
That part isn't exactly surprising, at least. He'd expected it, roughly, considering her absolutely insane age. Humans can't live that long. Even if Relivers could in theory, he'd be shocked if any did; it's hard to even picture, given their absolute oldest still haven't even rounded out a full century.
But to think of Elysia as being grouped in with creatures that retain no humanity, born from humans and twisted into things that only cause destruction... He can't see it in the least. She is different, but she isn't, all the same. Just a step to the left of the humanity she was willing to become a villain for.
As the memory begins to roll to a close and slide into its loop, Lucas just stares at the reflective surfaces around them for a few quiet seconds before turning to face Elysia.]
...May I ask what happened to you...?
[It's a quiet question, but he wants to know. Was this the point at which she ended, or just one mark in a long story? Did her friends get to see her again? What came of the banquet and its true intended purpose? His hands fold together, the gesture just a little anxious.]
[A whole 50,000 some years... It does sound confusing, though - and then there's just the slightest itch in the back of his mind. The real Elysia. If that's the real Elysia, then who is this person with the same name, face, temperament, memories, feelings?
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to elysia's credit, she watches all of this without flinching or grimacing. she has witnessed a massacre too vivid to be forgotten in her own time, and it has steeled her more than enough to see this even if it is much worse to see the corpses or children, innocents who never deserved this. the more elysia learns of arpechele, the more she thinks it needs change.
of course, since these mirrors only reflect memories, she can only make one conclusion. ]
Lucas. [ she turns to look at him after she can tear her gaze away from the mirror, her surprise fading. she only seeks to understand. ] What were you doing?
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This is truly what Lucas believes he has to repent for - this sole, horrific loss of innocent life in one big, sweeping incident, that he still feels he may have been able to prevent if he had only been faster. If only he'd been in a more opportune place. If only Scien Brofiise hadn't fucking been there.
His expression is quietly reflective as the memory ends, though; throughout, he mostly just looks grim. The deaths aren't so fresh to him anymore, but they're still heavy, and it's still painful. He turns his attention back to her at that, though, his hands coming to fold together neatly.]
...I clean the filth that afflicts our home before it can become a festering wound.
[His eventual soft-spoken answer. The twisted, disgusting Royals, and the devil responsible for starting everything - he purifies all evil, or at least tries to.]
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he is so unwell. that's not exactly what elysia is thinking, but it's close enough. her brows furrow in worry. she saw the way he moved, saw the feelings that must have been behind every slash of his halberd. his answer does not ease her concern. ]
What is the filth? That man who protected that girl? Those guards? Why did they do that to those children?
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Anyway this is fine and he is fine and normal. He's quiet for a second, just stepping around Scien for the time being to answer the second set of questions.]
Our nation is ill. The people don't care for the children. Many no longer have the ability to do so. As I heard it, that orphanage was attacked merely because of its association with an enemy of the Royals during a power struggle between the Royal Family and the Institute. That's all that it took.
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she's silent for a moment. ]
Those children... That should have never happened. The fault lies in whoever ordered that and only in them, but is it carnage that you truly seek?
[ if it's children he wants to save, does he have to make the walls even more red? ]
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He thinks it goes without say, at least; the fault for the massacre lies in the Royal Family, even though he shoulders guilt for not being quick enough to stop it. At the question, his answer is immediate.]
Of course not. I would never harm an innocent life.
[He only seeks to purify. He has never spilled a drop of undeserving blood.]
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What makes someone guilty to you?
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Those who would torment, harm and destroy the innocent are guilty of unforgivable sin.
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[ or is it both? ]
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Only the wicked fear divine light. My god is merciful and loving; I stand by all that I've said.
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it is only in his cloaked form that nothing is minute at all. what's unspoken is loud. ]
It's not criticism. Those how murder children don't deserve forgiveness. I only want to understand if the anger I saw in your polearm came directly from you or not.
I can accept if your god says to strike people down. It's fine if it's just you. I want to know more about you, Lucas. Won't you let me?
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There is just a barest beat of a pause, but he'll share at least this much.]
Who else could it come from but me? This heart is mine, and so are the emotions it contains. I can't bear to see the innocent cut down so mercilessly and unjustly. Neither can a God as giving as mine. I act upon both my own judgment and on the word of God.
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You hold yourself with a lot of restraint, and there are times when I don't know if you know you are holding yourself back. [ she understands catholic repression, but even catholics don't mind being dissatisfied about normal things. she remembers their conversation about trying to get him to talk about any troubles, even the most minor.
she glances to where the mirrors reflect his fury before turning back to look at him. ]
That is the most emotive I've seen you, and that's why it makes me worried.
[ she wants his emotions, but she doesn't want them like that. ]
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But he'll set his hands in hers, and his expression shifts again, apologetic - faint, still.]
I don't believe that I am, really. I may show restraint when I believe it to be better, but I always allow myself to feel my emotions. [Sometimes a binch just has so many faint emotions and also so many loud emotions.]
So please don't be worried. I apologize if it was an unpleasant thing to witness.
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her past is full of bloodshed anyway. ]
Is that so? I will be worried even if you say that. I will look at your past with my eyes open, no matter what it holds.
How many people know that's what you do, disguised?
[ because it doesn't look like many do in the memory. ]
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I can't stop you from worrying. I would never try to stop someone from feeling their own emotions, either. But it would be remiss for me to allow you to fret without saying that it truly isn't necessary...
[At the question, though:] Not many. [And then, after a bit of thought:] So I ask that you please keep it between the two of us.
[Because he adores Yves, and he knows his work is difficult to grasp, and the last thing he wants is to give Yves more reason to feel unhappy here.]
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Does worry happen because it's necessary?
[ it's because she cares, stupid. (she doesn't think stupid.)
she's silent for a moment, deliberating. ]
All right. I will, unless you give me reason not to.
[ like if he becomes a murderer for some reason because it happens every week. ]
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Worry doesn't abide by logic. I do know that well.
[He worries all the time when he shouldn't... But he just smiles at that, seemingly pleased with the acquiescence. He is back to his usual faint sort of pleasant demeanor.]
I won't give you any reason to.
[Unless he's the murderer for some reason!]
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I hope you won't.
[ but they both know that murderers do be influenced, and even without his divine retribution background, he could still be pushed into it.
i will give you a memory back tomorrow. ]
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But they do know that... Lucas is not thinking of the influenced murders right now, though. He's just feeling at peace once again, glad that Elysia is understanding, even if she doesn't understand in full. don't forget to give me my memory back hits you with a brick]
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the images in the mirror warp.
the mirrors reflect elysia, waiting by herself or with a robotic and AI companion, as she is left behind.
the problem is that they're figuring it out by having meetings without her to talk about her, and she doesn't like being distanced that way. she doesn't want all her memories, all her bonds, or her existence to be a lie, but she is coming to terms with it.
she has to, with what her world has come to. when humanity is dying and civilization is reaching its extinction, she has to. after she has a long conversation with one of her dearest friends, eden, she thinks for a long, long time.
elysia is a herrscher. to everyone in her era, herrschers are humans turned into vessels for the honkai. they are humans that may no longer be considered humans and no longer retain any humanity left in them, and they have just destroyed the last three major cities of her world. herrschers can't help but be humanity's enemy, and humanity in elysia's era can only see them as an enemy. if this is all true, why is she the way she is?
and why is thinking of what can she do to give hope for a future?
she thinks and thinks, and she decides. (55:00 to 59:33)
she can put on makeup for the first and last time in her life. as she sits in front of her mirror in her bedroom, she talks to herself, as it to confirm what she's doing is what she wants and what is right for her.
she will hold a banquet and invite all her friends.
it will be a banquet for the thirteenth herrscher.
(it will be a crusade against the thirteenth herrscher.)
she made herself into a villain. ]
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That part isn't exactly surprising, at least. He'd expected it, roughly, considering her absolutely insane age. Humans can't live that long. Even if Relivers could in theory, he'd be shocked if any did; it's hard to even picture, given their absolute oldest still haven't even rounded out a full century.
But to think of Elysia as being grouped in with creatures that retain no humanity, born from humans and twisted into things that only cause destruction... He can't see it in the least. She is different, but she isn't, all the same. Just a step to the left of the humanity she was willing to become a villain for.
As the memory begins to roll to a close and slide into its loop, Lucas just stares at the reflective surfaces around them for a few quiet seconds before turning to face Elysia.]
...May I ask what happened to you...?
[It's a quiet question, but he wants to know. Was this the point at which she ended, or just one mark in a long story? Did her friends get to see her again? What came of the banquet and its true intended purpose? His hands fold together, the gesture just a little anxious.]
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I met my end, and I tried to give hope to a new world.... although I didn't know if I succeeded until very recently before coming here.
[ a whole 50,000 some years. but she knows what she says sounds confusing. ]
The real Elysia met her end back then, fifty thousand years ago.
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Insofar as he has known her, at least.]
...Then... who are you, if not the real Elysia?
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More of a simulation, or a copy, but I am Elysia.
[ she doesn't have identity issues, but she does make a distinction. ]
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