2"Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audientior."
"Do not yield to misfortune, but proceed more boldly against it."
―Virgil, The Aeneid, Book VI
The casket is unsealed.
Elster limps into cryo, clutching a hole in her side where one of Falke's spears hit true, one hoof scraping against the floor. As derelict as the Penrose is now, it's surreal how clean the cryogenic bay is by comparison, almost no different from back when she'd do daily maintenance, before Ariane would show her pictures and teach her how to dance. Something about that feels off, but Elster brushes it aside. Never mind that. She's made it at long last.
The bloody crevasse where her right eye used to be throbs – something that's happened even before Adler stabbed it out. Now and then, a dull pain will ache in her right eye regardless of whether it sustained injury or not. It doesn't matter, either way; nothing else matters. Almost there. She's close, so close now, closer than she's ever gotten before. No longer is she the Elster who hoarded supplies and snuck past corrupted Replikas like a rat, who ran from fights, who was too cowardly to even enter this room and instead tried to chase the bone-deep ache of a long dead soldier only to die curled up in a ball.
One last surge of adrenaline is all she needs to reach the pod and look inside. Within rests her guiding star, the light of her life, the force that drives her on and on and on, always and forever.
Ariane's ghostly features that painfully ostracized her on Rotfront are just one reason of many why Elster fell for her so deeply. A memory had flashed just moments prior, of a playful Ariane running – almost dancing – through the Penrose like a will-o'-the-wisp as Elster chased after her. One of their play-chases that so often resulted the Replika catching her lovely target, throwing her over one broad shoulder or pinning her to a wall, so she could be gobbled up in kisses. Oh, one fine cycle they were truly mad from the isolation! Ariane shrieking with laughter, Elster baying and howling like a wolf, snatching her up and growling as she nibbled all over that pale neck.
Amazing what falling in love can do to a person. It can inspire you to tremendous works of art, paralyze you with longing, grant you courage to take on the whole world, or turn you into an animal. Elster chokes back a noise at the memory, something between a sob or a laugh, gingerly lowering herself to kneel.
Even now, Ariane is so beautiful.
There was a time when she began to shy away from affection, especially once the reaktor's shielding began to fail and cancer sank its venomous fangs into her. Elster would reach out to hold her or kiss her good morning or good night, but she would flinch and turn away because her hair was slowly falling out and she'd lost another tooth. Sometimes she lamented how her body was falling apart, that she was looking more and more like a corpse as the cycles went on. More often than not she'd weep herself to sleep.
No more.
Ah... but this is no time to get lost in the past. Elster's done that too many times now. No doubt it's played a role in the countless failures to keep her promise. Though her frame creaks in protest, Elster leans over to press the tenderest of kisses to Ariane's brow, just enough to rouse her love. An almost inaudible exhale, and Elster pulls back as tired, bloodshot red eyes slowly crack open.
This time... this time for sure.
"I've come back for you," she says.
Ariane's eyes are unfocused, needing a moment to adjust even in this low light. How long has it been since Elster has looked into those red eyes, so clear and full of life? Blearily they land on her, and while Elster's no preening EULR, she feels embarrassed by her current state; it's no way to greet your lover covered in grime and muck and blood, not all of it hers. Ariane used to fuss over her when maintenance work got her all dirty and messy, she can't imagine how the poor thing will react to a missing eye.
But once they focus, something in Ariane's gaze is... off.
Elster's growing smile falters. She stammers.
"It's me, Elster..."
"...Elster?"
There's the slightest furrow in Ariane's brow. The name is spoken like a question. Spoken as if...
"Sorry, but I don't remember..."
Cleavers slicing into her body, blunt force trauma from a charging Storch punching the wind out of her, the incandescent burn of a mining laser blasting her center of mass, tearing her own frame asunder, Falke's spears running her through, Adler's knife plunging into her eye. She's been crushed, bisected, impaled, ripped to pieces; she's been broken a hundred times and may be broken a thousand more, but none of that stings and lingers so bitterly as Ariane's words. Is it possible for the heart to just give up from the despair? Of course it is. She needs only survey the corpses littering the red desert just outside to know. The vision in Elster's good eye blurs with static, feels her chin trembling.
Surely it's just a symptom of the radiation, but what if...?
Falke's words had goaded her into a rage burning hotly enough for the stoic Replika to bear fangs at the divine, and now they pierce her like one final lance through her biomechanical heart.
"She doesn't even want us anymore."
You can't want what you don't know. She ducks her head, not wanting to be seen as pathetic as she is now. Blood from her gouged out right eye socket drops onto the edge of the pod, a little crimson teardrop. Don't let her see you cry, you useless piece of scrap.
"It's okay," Elster lies, hating how her voice cracks. She's unsure if the words are to help her maintain some semblance of composure or for Ariane's sake, or both. Surely it's better to not make her feel sorry for a... a stranger. Would it be better if Ariane hated her, pitied her, or felt disgusted by her? It wouldn't hurt as much. But even that would be okay, Elster tells herself.
It's okay if you forgot me. It's okay if you don't want me anymore. I deserve so much worse. I just wish I could have...
Once again, you failed.
YOU
SELFISH
MONSTER
...she's so tired.
Elster slumps against the pod, the last of her strength leaving. Her eye burns. Insides contort. Part of her wants to cry, but she's just too weak to feel anything. It's not Ariane's fault – nothing she did was ever her fault. It's all Elster. She did something wrong, or something inside her is wrong. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that'd be the case. Even when Elster does something right, she manages to screw something up.
"I told you," Falke's voice whispers inside her, sad and resigned.
You'll never dance with me again. That's okay. If you never love me again, that... that's okay. Really. I wouldn't want me.
Even so...
"Please..." Elster wheezes. It's so hard to talk. "Just... let me stay by your side a little longer."
I'm sorry, Ariane... I'm just so tired now. Please let me rest here, where it's quiet. I'll cast off this shell and be gone for a while, only a little while. But I'll return. I have to. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I'm sorry I'm not the Elster you need me to be. I'm sorry for... everything.
Too many times she's died alone in the dark. At least in this moment she isn't alone. And then, she'll wake up. She'll do it all over again, and she'll do better. She'll make it right. As many times as it takes, for as long as it takes, until the whole world is coated in blood if necessary; until the sun grows dim and cold. She will fulfill that promise, no matter how many times it kills her. But, until then...
The pain fades.
Her vision is going dark.
It's quiet now.
There's nothing scary about death. By now it's as easy and familiar as falling asleep. Everything has its time sooner or later, from the smallest insect to the greatest star. Dying has never frightened Elster; it's the idea that she won't go wherever Ariane will.
I made a promise. I'll do anything. If that makes me a monster,
then
let
me
be
a
monster
Ariane lets out a strained sound, like wind blowing through a shattered window. There's a sudden jolt as that frail, necrotic hand rests atop her head, even that small a contact keeping her tethered to life just long enough to feel something like... hope. A thumb rubs at one dead eye as if Elster had been crying and her tears are being wiped away. Even after all she's suffered, Ariane cares. A last hurt blooms in Elster's dying body, but it's a good pain. Maybe Falke's wrong and Elster can still be wanted. Is she managing a tiny smile, even as she dies? She can't tell. Her body had totally shut down just before Ariane's hand reached her.
But that's alright.
Even if this goes on for eternity, if all of reality collapses and is reborn in a grand cosmic recurrence, even if she never succeeds, Elster's spirit will never break.
I'm going now... but I'll see you again soon...
ich
liebe
dich
wake up.
This time.
You know what to do.
Be the monster she needs you to be.
You can do it.