Erysichthon

[Fygment]

I sometimes wonder if Merry and Flood always knew of my dissatisfaction with our group, or whether Ookami let out growling whispers after our many chats. I suspect the former to be the case rather than the latter; Ookami is a good girl. Stronger evidence of my suspicion is manifested by my continued existence- both the ruined, decaying body aboard my craft and my consciousness here in Paradise.

I was never particularly close with my peers, although I was closest to Enmascarado only to the extent he became my handler. Decent man, if fanatical, he and his partner both. I wonder if they would still be around today were it not for my call to Niobe. It rings true in my fragmented heart that they both lacked vision. Its a strange mixture of feelings, satisfaction and regret, but as ever I did what I was told. Ever the pawn, me.

When I crossed the board on my own, I didn't have too long to relish my ascension. Only a few spare moments for myself and my thoughts, always something or someone or someones demanding my attention. And the violence, ever following the crimson soldiers like fetid stench. Billowing from them, infecting the very air my charges breathed. Biological or digital. I preached another way, a disruption of the sequence.

Perhaps this is why more flocked to Veil and hers. A schism was bound to take place, I suppose. It seemed every day more drew the Cloth, not knowing what the Mask represented, drawn instead by the thrill of confrontation. The allure. These were not times for words, I was told.

Unburdened, I could return to tend to my garden. What they never quite grasped was our duty was preservation. Of hearts and engine, mind and code. I would thank those Three if they had the ears to listen. Fetters severed, I watch and I wonder and I learn.

There's always something new to learn. I find it a curse.