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ohnominamino · 3 years

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An Essay on Love in Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a movie about love in all its forms. From the love of family, friends, and neighbors, to the compassion we feel for people we have never met. The movie reminds us that love is something we continuously gain, lose, and choose, again and again. Which love is greatest? In my opinion, the answer to that question is left up to interpretation. In this essay, I will give my own personal interpretation on certain character interactions and what I believe we are meant to take away from their Rebuild portrayals.

The character I will start with is one I’ve noticed the most outrage over from people who haven’t seen the movie and read out-of-context spoilers: Kaworu Nagisa.

Kaworu is a beloved character among many Evangelion fans, especially those who are members of the LGBT+ community. He is a canonical love interest of Shinji Ikari and I want to reassure people that this final movie does not change that fact. However, it does not make the couple blatantly endgame either. This skirting around the couple might make some fans upset, and while their feelings are completely valid, I do not think they fully understand the difficulties faced by LGBT+ people in Japan, nor do they understand the way that romance is typically conveyed in Japanese storytelling. (I recommend watching “Is ‘Yuri On Ice’ Good Gay Representation?” by James Somerton for more about storytelling nuances.)

What have we been shown about Shinji and Kaworu’s love? The good news is, anything you read into the original TV series and End of Evangelion is completely true for the Rebuilds— because Kaworu is the same Kaworu. This movie proves Evangelion is a single universe set on repeat, and that Kaworu and Shinji meet each other every loop, and in each, Kaworu is trying to make Shinji happy. Within the final movie, Shinji becomes aware of the loops and chooses to break the cycle and free Kaworu from his pain.

What does the relationship between Shinji and Kaworu teach us? I believe the purpose of their love is to show the audience that first, in the words of Kaji, “love has no gender.” Second, I believe Kaworu’s love in particular is a warning about basing your own happiness solely upon another person. There are parallels drawn between Gendo/Yui and Kaworu/Shinji. Gendo could not exist without Yui, and so he was willing to destroy the world to be reunited with her. For Kaworu, it was not the destruction of humanity, but the destruction of himself that defined his tragedy. What’s important within the final movie, in my opinion, is that Shinji does not reject Kaworu’s love. With the insight he’s gained from remembering past loops, he sees Kaworu’s love and appreciates him, but he also sees his suffering and wants to ease it. He helps Kaworu into a new world where he can seek his own happiness and find balance in his life (something his father did not have).

While Kaworu and Shinji are not seen as an explicit couple at the end of the movie, it’s significant to note that, when he sets Kaworu free, Shinji holds out his hand to Kaworu as a promise to stay together. Over the course of the movie, Shinji comes to accept his connection to others through accepting touch (in the form of hand holding and hugs from Rei, Misato, and Gendo); however, Kaworu is the only character in the movie who Shinji initiates physical contact with and that speaks to how much Kaworu means to him. This simple gesture, in my opinion, keeps the door open for Kaworu and Shinji to be a couple one day, after Kaworu has found more balance in his life.

If I were to write an entire essay about Kaworu, it would be titled, “Out of the Coffin: How the Resurrection of Kaworu Nagisa Buries the Tragic Lovers Trope” because this movie truly does just that.

Another potential love interest for Shinji for many years was Asuka; however, unlike with Kaworu, the nature of this relationship is not left up to interpretation by the end of the movie. Before her big final battle, Asuka tells Shinji, “I think I loved you back then” (regarding their time in middle school) and Shinji, during Instrumentality, tells Asuka, “Thank you for saying you loved me. I loved you too.” It is past tense.

What does this relationship teach us? It’s a beautiful way of showing that we can love people, and grow and learn, and let go when we no longer fit each other. Letting go is an integral part of life. Whereas other Instrumentality scenes involve touch, Asuka’s, mirroring the ending of End of Evangelion, has a distinct lack of touch. Shinji sits with his arms around his knees and Asuka turns her body away from him. He gives her his thanks and he sends her off to find her peace. Asuka and Shinji teach us that it’s okay to grow out of relationships. You can appreciate what they were to you at the time they happened and move on.

What about Rei? To be honest with you, this movie is less about Rei’s relationship with Shinji, and more about her relationship with the world. Rei teaches movie viewers about the simple pleasures of living. While Shinji is in mourning for the first quarter of the movie, Rei (as “Sokkuri”) is learning about crop growing and community, the wonder of babies and kittens, the joy of the bath after a long day of fruitful work, and the power of words and picture books. At the end of her life, she only regrets not having more time to spend with the people she loves. In Instrumentality, Shinji accepts her hand when it is offered to him, which I hope signifies he is ready to see life as she had come to during the final movie.

Rei teaches us that we can love living and to not take our limited time for granted.

Next, we move on to parent figures: Gendo and Misato. I think they both represent people ill suited to the role, who do the best they can despite it. Gendo, as mentioned for Kaworu above, is a warning about defining yourself by your relationship to another person (Ikari, afterall, is Yui’s name). He is also a lesson in how people mourn and how they can lash out. Misato, like Gendo, felt herself a poor parent, and while mourning the loss of Kaji, she gave up her child to be raised by other people, but, unlike Gendo, went forward to put all her energy into protecting humanity. Both of them reach out to hug Shinji within the movie and he accepts them where they are.

While I wouldn’t say the movie shows that Shinji forgives Gendo, it does show his making an effort to understand and make peace with what others have done. For Misato, it is fair to say we can still hope for a better future, even when it feels like everything is crumbling around us. Her self-sacrificing love for her son and the whole of humanity is what enables Shinji to then save the people he loves (via the spear of Gaius).

In the movie, we are also shown friendship. Touji, Hikari, and Kensuke are important members of their community who maintain open communication with those around them and respect others’ boundaries. They are patient and kind and represent the importance of being present. They teach us to meet people where they are and support them how we can, whether it’s giving them a warm meal or giving them space when they need it.

There are many more characters that could be talked about, but today I am going to end on Mari. Mari’s love is physical. She enjoys being in people’s personal bubbles. She cuddles Asuka and helps trim her hair, she gets into Gendo’s space at college, and at the end of the movie, she reaches out her hand to Shinji to help him stand up from his seat. Upon first glance, some viewers might take Mari and Shinji’s final scene to be romantic, but the reality of it is this: We do not, and cannot, know what kind of love she is meant to represent in his life.

We do not know Mari’s relationship with Shinji because they hardly interact in the movie. She clearly cares about him, but in my opinion, it comes from a place of duty and compassion— Mari was friends with Gendo and Yui. She has been there since he was born. (If we take the manga to be canon, then Mari even had romantic feelings towards his mother. Her hairstyle and glasses are from Yui. At the end of the movie, Mari has changed her hairstyle, which to me implies she has moved on, and “getting” with Shinji would be a thematic break.)

Additionally, their conversation, while flirty, is very much one that implies they haven’t seen each other for a while. Mari is someone who is very physically affectionate. With everyone. If someone ignores that and focuses on the fact she gets into Shinji’s space and claims that’s romantic, they better acknowledge it’s possibly romantic with Asuka, who we see far more intimacy with. When Mari flirts, Shinji flirts back and her initial reaction is surprise, “Wow, you’ve learned to talk back!” Her purpose is clear. She is there to remove the DSS choker from his neck.

Personally, I love that Mari is the one to close the movie, for the exact reason that we do not know her relationship with Shinji. For Mari to have an assigned role would be to say, “This kind of love is most important,” when the entire movie was spent showing us each love is of equal importance in the balance and building of our lives. (It’s wonderful to see those types of love embodied across the platform from Shinji at the end of the movie: Rei and Kaworu, who, just like in End of Evangelion, could signify the ability to connect with others and be loved.)

If you view Mari as a romantic love interest, then I think it speaks to the value that you as an individual give to romance rather than what the characters themselves are feeling. To me, Mari, the character who was created to “destroy Eva,” is a symbol of all love. When Shinji takes her offered hand and then pulls her to run into the new world, it’s a symbol of balance. The give and take of any kind of relationship.

We are the product of every relationship we have ever had, from our parents to the people we once loved, from our friendships to any other person we want to stay connected to. Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a story about these relationships. It is a story about love.

#rebuild of evangelion #kaworu nagisa #shinji ikari #asuka shikinami #mari makinami #rei ayanami #misato katsuragi #gendo ikari #thrice upon a time #kawoshin #essay #movie review #shinkawo

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sonderrow-moved · 3 years

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IC CANON VOICE BODY TRIALS PLOTTING

◭ I.D

FULL NAME: Roy Kaworu Spiegel BIRTH: March 14th, 27 y.o. SEX & GENDER: Male SPECIE: Human ETHNICITY: Asian American LANGUAGE: English, German, Japanese OCCUPATION: Intern in environmental research, masseur RELIGION: Shinto SEXUALITY: ??? ◭ ANATOMY

HAIR: Bright auburn red EYES: Light grey FACE: TBA COMPLEXION: Milky honeyed skintone HEIGHT: 184 cm BUILD: TBA VOICE: Melodious and serious

◭ PERSONA

LIKES: Reading, anthropology, people older than him DISLIKES: Injustice, vices, ignorance MBTI: TBA ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good POLITICAL STANCE: Middle ground EDUCATION LEVEL: PhD DRUGS: Do vitamin supplements count..? PHOBIAS: Acrophobia DISORDER: None diagnosed

♚ “AND LATER MY MACABRE JOY SOURS AND I’M WEEPING FOR MYSELF, UNABLE TO FIND SOLACE IN ANY OF THIS, CRYING OUT, SOBBING, “I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED,” CURSING THE EARTH AND EVERYTHING I HAVE BEEN TAUGHT: PRINCIPLES, DISTINCTIONS, CHOICES, MORALS, COMPROMISES, KNOWLEDGE, UNITY, PRAYER - ALL OF IT WAS WRONG, WITHOUT ANY FINAL PURPOSE.”

This man has lived too long. A classic concept written, imagined by artists. To comfort them about their mortality, explore the ins and outs of an alien narrative full of ifs. How would this even work ? Even the people with the best memories, to a genius level even, eventually forgets, for the brain can only retain so much. This feeling people gets as they grow older, the biased nostalgia of glorified items they saw through their pure, untainted, still developing eyes and the resentment towards new trends as they cannot see anything without any scum anymore. The yearning not for those movements, but for this soft sensation, of looking, admiring something and think, for a moment, that it’s idealistic form was real.

This sweet, unadulterated notion became only a distant, forgotten memory as time hardened the one known today as Roy. For years. Decades. Centuries. Millenniums.

A man who was born during another civilization, another time, long forgotten with only myths remaining of it. Not even a relic to be talked about, as everything had disintegrated, returned to earth for another life cycle.

♚ “THE PAST ISN’T REAL. IT’S JUST A DREAM,” I SAY. “DON’T MENTION THE PAST.”

Roy was born under another name, one he still remembers, but has long buried away, as it is not his name anymore. No one remembers it. It is not him anymore, as much as he might like to. It is only an appellation to let go of. As humankind developed its technology to a peak, so did their power, as they yielded control over nature people nowadays couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t as clear as one making a motion to have the waves, wind and earth respond to it. It was a much more fundamental, rawer sense to it. Where the energy of the world could be used to build even new life.

Always the diligent person who only lived to serve, executing tasks exactly as he was asked to, Roy had been appointed to be the Right Hand of the High Priestess. A young female who had only recently bloomed into womanhood. So perfect in existence, like a bright, pale, white being given to their kind in exchange of their discovery over worldly power. She had embraced her role as a symbol since birth, and he was to accompany her every step of the way as she rose to an official position. To inspire and love. Untouched by anything, for her importance was too great as people shook the world order in their insatiable human curiosity. Nowadays, Roy could have been defined as a bodyguard, yet, in this time, there was no fear of another person’s mishap. Only was he to protect her from accidental injuries, get more menial tasks off her shoulder and, most of all, as they understood this aspect deeply, have her emotional and social needs satisfied.

The way she was so beautiful, the way she would only crack a laugh at his shenanigans, the way he knew how to soothe her and she, in her infinite kindness, learned to soothe him back when a crack of worry grew between his impeccable … how could he not fall in love ?

He loved the way she would recite poetry while he slowly got used to her wanting him to caress her head, and she loved the way he would sing her verses in his smooth, sultry voice. The way she would eye him while someone else was talking on stage with a soft smile while he was guarding the entrance and he’d let a smile crack.

It wasn’t a consummated love like you would see in the current, modern days. There were, of course, pairings who held deep affection towards one another and brought in the next generation, but she had a role where she would never have the chance to do so, for her symbolism was not to replicate, only to be a happenstance, a gift which mustn’t be tainted by an attempt to be artificially redone. She accepted her role with no issue, and so did Roy. And the two of them were perfectly happy with this.

This was a time before the continents even started to noticeably separate on Earth, or even before the initial ground became more and more flooded by the waters. A time where Roy’s kind felt so unified, at peace… until this built up, free of conflict power shattered in on itself.

Raw abominations started roaming, not in the form of creatures, not exactly. So ephemeral, yet spreading chaos and distortion at every corner, fueled by the abuse and infighting of those who had gathered too much and only yearned for more. Years and generations of peace had made civilization take harmony for granted, and the couple was powerless as they saw it unfold. As the world balance collapsed, Roy was approached by a group of pacifists, trusted people for outside the conflicts, everyone knew anyone, respect one another, grew with one another. And as sickly dear ones, growing tainted by the plague pleaded with him, for his position had him perfect for what needed to be done for the greater good: kill the priestess, so the good in her would spread across the land, calm the spirits through their weeps, and save them.

Someone like Roy, of unfathomable loyalty, had a decision to make. And despite the tugs at his heart, it was an easy one. For he believed that, if the Priestess was present, the choice would be simple. That she would understand, because, in her infinite goodness, she could forgive them, forgive him, in the end. And as his trust towards her was strong, it is during a bright morning, away from the war, in the beautiful temple they inhabited, up in the mountains, away from civilization, that he entrusted her with what the people wished of them… and like the great woman she always had been, she kept a serene, albeit slightly sorrowful expression as she accepted. If there was a chance the power built inside her since birth could save more than one person, she would die.

But when his blade pierced her heart, tainting her white, ceremonial clothing in the middle of the garden, she only clanged onto him, eyes wide with desperate sorrow, an expression she, and he, never ever witnessed in anyone before. Fear and betrayal spread across her dark eyes as they grew more and more obscure.

I don’t want to die. My love, I don’t want to die…

―were her last words before, as she wept and choked, the High Priestess expired in her guardian’s blood soaked arms, him wearing too stunned an expression for her to ever hear an answer for him.

Just like beliefs and idolization are made-up by man for comfort and, ultimately, are fake, so was the glorification that one death, from someone incredibly beautiful from the inside out, would be a solution to mankind creating their own demise.

And so, it was at his feet that Roy saw the last of humans slowly die out, first from their endless conflict, so harsh they forgot where it even started, and then to the unforgiving nature, taking back the life they had abused off her.

Only, as he himself felt like he was expiring, with all lifeforce living him in the deserted, now ruined temple he had taken cared of with his beloved.

♚ “THIS IS TRUE: THE WORLD IS BETTER OFF WITH SOME PEOPLE GONE. OUR LIVES ARE NOT ALL INTERCONNECTED. THAT THEORY IS CROCK. SOME PEOPLE TRULY DO NOT NEED TO BE HERE.”

And with the end of this first Humankind was the land so dry of its lifeforce that the cycle of resurrection immortality and resurrection ended. It was quite simple at the time, and helped with the utopia free of grief and unnecessary sadness for their knowledge-seeking kind. If happenstance had you gone, your aether would go back to the earth, only to rise again in the next year, century, no one knew, but they would rise again, the same people, to meet the ones they knew in another life again, with hazy memories, but just enough to recognize your loved ones, and find them again. The more time passed, the less did people come back from this dormant phase, millions and millions now sleeping under the crust of the Earth, never to awaken again. Only the one who had gathered more power could come back more quickly, not the servants, no matter how strong they were, like Roy, who was only, despite all his strengths, a support to a higher one.

Only, as their kind ended, in her last breath, was he given the last link to the cycle, to be connected to his brethren, when he wasn’t supposed to be the one to live again to better the world.

She gave it to him, as her last gift. As the forgiveness she could never give him while she clung to dear life so desperately.

For the greatest gift to give to someone where inevitable death surround them is to still live……… isn’t it ?

I have seen too little, did too little to be of any solace in chaos. You, my love, have seen, experienced. I cannot think of a finer person to carry out our legacy, for I trust that only the best will come out of you.

♚ “PEOPLE CAN GET ACCUSTOMED TO ANYTHING, RIGHT? HABIT DOES THINGS TO PEOPLE.”

Life went back to its natural course. Ancient structure became ruins as vegetation took over, and, strong as it ever was, mankind rose again from the ashes. At the dawn of a new civilization, an orphan would be found at a nearby river, taken in by farmers and eventually would be a child raised by the whole humble village… a child who hadn’t forgotten a thing, and worked towards the dawn of a new age where he could protect what was dear to him.

And so, the one these days called Roy, grew up like he did before, to train and refine his ways. Only, this time, he didn’t only focus on his personal growth, but on others’ too. Estranged from other children like he had always been, with adulthood reaching his mind too quickly, only devoted to his craft. Despite snarl from the youth, his reputation grew amongst the adults and elders, and the communities beyond. As soon as his body was barely out of its formative years, did the boy set home in the mountains. Out of the leftover ruins his past life would let him have. A strong foundation to not lose sight of his objective.

Discipline. Commitment. Responsibility. Peace of mind. Realism. Alongside harsh but fair mental and physical training, all from what he had been taught and remembered, Roy kept exploring martial disciplines he even hadn’t touched in the past, wanting to reestablish what had been lost, and, before he knew it, he was known nearly as a Sage Deity across the land. A man coming from another world, who set up his temple atop the mountains made of smooth boulders eroded with time, near a clear water source, in the middle of a blossoming garden full of colors and hybrid one never knew how such an abundance of different species naturally grew alongside one another in this location, like it was enchanted.

Often, the village elders sought Roy’s advice, which he hoped have given sparingly, in neutrality, since he couldn’t guide mankind every step of the way, only show them a flourishing path. Travelers would come from afar to seek both his teaching and words, with glorified stories growing slightly intimidating to the young man. Despite this, he did his best to carry on his duty, taking care of the new temple grounds he assembled himself, wearing flowing clothes he sew himself; all loyal to the form and aesthetic of the woman he cherished, adorning the same attire she did and flowing, long hair. He wasn’t hoping for them to meet again, only honor her memory. He had grieved and grieved, wept and wept before she gave him the gift of eternity. His salvation was throwing himself into his training, contemplating his sorrow, and so on and on again until he only felt peace.

Roy’s stories of a lady in white with the darkest of eyes became legends, tales of kindness, bravery and adventure. And, amongst his own legacy growing, did Roy decide, after much deliberation, to take in disciples. One, then two. People under his tutelage, who would, in return, vow to spread and defend what the temple fought for, alongside taking equal parts in temple duties. And as the young people he accepted under his wing grew, Roy would soon be surrounded by four bright students he deeply loved. Unable to truly have a father’s touch, he, at least, believed he was a good guardian, hoping that, with time, his students would become masters, and that humanity could flourish.

It was then that, surrounded by his disciples, minus one, actually, that Roy had just finished drinking light tea and eating some sweets. He sighed as a cloud formed in front of his thin lips, the cold air announcing the winter to come. Even as his eldest disciple spoke, Roy didn’t reply. He stayed still, unmoving, silent, for there was nothing to say about what he felt was to come.

He didn’t even groan when he felt the ornate blades of his disciples pass through him, all three at the same time, for they were bound to be guilty together. While the screeching pain enveloped his senses, he wondered if this was what she felt, when he betrayed her.

That night, the Sage’s remains were cut to pieces, scattered far and wide, while his head was burned in the courtyard bonfire, all in an attempt to stop the link he had with his brethren, to cease the “gift” he had been given and for the cycle carried by the billions sleeping to come to an end.

But, unlike what men thought, Roy’s cycle was only part of nature, and he was to rise once more.

♚ “MY NIGHTLY BLOOD LUST OVERFLOWED INTO MY DAYS AND I HAD TO LEAVE THE CITY. MY MASK OF SANITY WAS A VICTIM OF IMPENDING SLIPPAGE.”

It was always the same. Again and again. He would be reborn, train, work, bond, and die at the hands of the very ones he had linked himself. The only reliable companion Roy ever had was nature outside of mankind, harsh but fair, just like him. With a behavior he could coexist with peacefully. It started eating him from the inside out. This time around, Roy had come back from the dead a few decades after his murder, found stark naked in a rice field even farther East, still in a young adult form, regenerated. Mankind hadn’t been doomed yet, and so, he vowed to save it by himself.

Roy would travel far and wide as mankind spread its territory and the continents started separating, being the only one of his kind which could still read the flow of life, its remaining corruption, and how to neutralize them. He would never stay in one spot for too long, only focusing on what he had to do. Because if he didn’t do it, who would ? If he didn’t do anything, he would only be left seeing the same amount of suffering and death, all by himself.

He couldn’t sit down. He couldn’t lose hope.

But Roy’s respect for life took the better of him. As he helped others with his abilities, presenting himself as somewhat of a medium as others also showed special traits, he hadn’t seen how darker human’s hearts had become. So much more quickly than the society he had known in the past. People turned envious of his abilities, and, soon enough, he needed to fight and run for his own life, at the risk of being torn apart yet again.

This fight and flight narrative happened again. And again. Until Roy’s duty had no time to be done; if he wasn’t around, there was no way anything could be done. He had to survive. And as the world grew around him, his mind and memories became muddied, and the depravity surrounding his person slowly creeped into his mind, as any remainder of his initial purpose was muddled with a constant years of bloodshed. An age of decades where he was to be burned and tortured, captured again and again before he’d lay waste to entire villages for his own safety. So no witness was to remain, and less people were to go after him. His training was used in a way he had never done before. For a cause he couldn’t decide to stop. He learned how to kill as efficiently as possible, how to decimate communities, destroy morale through underhanded means. Jumping from one allegiance to another as he either killed or fled before they’d go after him. For the first time, Roy could see how much his raw abilities could be of use in carnage, with no ceremony, no cause behind them. Only death. The very somber death he swore to stop.

He didn’t even stop to wonder at the technology men came up with, using the growing devices as meant for an end, anger and rage creeping into his very soul, indulging in vices he was being offered by humans which morals he always despised. There was no relief in this life, no moment of quiet, only screams and chaos, and only sins could provide a moment of respite. Roy, actually, never remembered how he died, but he did, at some point, in some time, after all sane people had left the territory, and only savagery had roamed the land he had loved so dearly.

During this time, he had forgotten her name, even her face.

♚ “THE CONVERSATION FOLLOWS ITS OWN ROLLING ACCORD - NO REAL STRUCTURE OR TOPIC OR INTERNAL LOGIC OR FEELING; EXCEPT, OF COURSE, FOR ITS OWN HIDDEN, CONSPIRATORIAL ONE. JUST WORDS, AND LIKE IN A MOVIE, BUT ONE THAT HAS BEEN TRANSCRIBED IMPROPERLY, MOST OF IT OVERLAPS.”

At some point, Roy had no recognition if he had been in the same world, the same plane of existence amongst the cycles when he awoke once again. This time in a white, desperately empty desert. With no one at his side. He was still, somehow, a fully grown person, with the fresh memories of violence he had laid, and the scent of blood into all his pores, and the grotesque weapons he had used with no ceremony.

Yet, in this newly regenerated body, in this empty space by himself, his mind centered itself. His discipline kicked in between the silence and hunt for sustenance. He had spent so long a time by himself, alone, in the most chaotic of scenarios. With no one who remembered him, no one who remembered his loved ones, no one who remembered who everyone he even knew were.

After spending time and time, he couldn’t count how long, to rebalance his person, reshape his senses and skills yet again, Roy readied himself to reach civilization once more… yet when he started his journey again, he stopped, the sudden weight of his contact with humankind anchoring him to the ground, unable now to stand. His body was trembling, and everything he had packed fell to the ground. He knew what would happen if he gave up. What he would need to go through and experience. Again and again. He tried. He tried so hard. But no matter how good he could be, it seemed so… hopeless. However, even if it was an impossible endeavor, he couldn’t stop, or else he would have nothing.

He wouldn’t be able to, maybe, one day, see everyone again. How many times had it been ? His memory couldn’t bear so much, what important things could he not recall ? He could start counting, but there was no way to say if entire lifetimes were not thrown into the abyss, and if forgotten crucial knowledge would end up with yet another failure…

This is when, hunched onto himself in this deserted, white horizon, Roy held his head in his hand. He groaned of pain as his mind was strained to its limits, drooling as he agonized, and images faded far, far away as he life flow was being torn apart from him by his own hands. He could hear the screams of his brethren, their legacy being desecrated. Useless. Useless. He didn’t need to remember their names. He didn’t need to remember their faces. Everything deemed useless to the core of his mission was shred out of his very soul, making the pain, the worries fade away, for he only needed to focus on what needed to be done.

Discipline. Commitment. Responsibility. Peace of mind. Realism. For those virtues to lead mankind to a greater part. And maybe, just maybe, recover part of everything he had lost.

For it was the one thing she had not accounted for, for she saw this man as someone so perfect through her affection for him.

That, ultimately, he did all of this so he could see them, see her again if he ever succeeded, and mankind could doom itself if it wasn’t the only way he knew to move onwards. That he did what was needed of him, without taking it so much to heart, that, in the deep of his heart, laid a hidden, selfish reason for all of this. Yet, it may not be this one anymore, he couldn’t tell.

And as Roy literally lost his mind, all by himself, with not a soul around to witness his sorrow, he laid there, vegetable from the trauma, feeling but unable to move, in a haze of horror and pain, before, finally, dehydration took him, and he was back in the cycle again.

Only, this time, there would be no memories. Only physical ones. No loneliness, only fake memories pieced by the world to balance his existence. Only a man, his training, his virtues, and an impossible task that is his only defense against despair and insanity.

♚ “THERE IS NO TIME FOR THE INNOCENT.”

#mobile about #. Spiegel ( muse )

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