Chapter Text
The chest of the Shouki no Kami shatters into a thousand pieces.
He knows how this one will end. The Dendro Archon will reach her hand in and take the Electro Gnosis. He will scream and beg for her to let him have it, if nothing else, and she will not listen. Then, in his desperation, he will tear himself out of the Kami, and fall to the ground.
He has run through this twenty-seven times already. He does not want to count - he loathes counting more than anything - but the way in which he was programmed and designed has the count ticking inside of him automatically, mechanically.
Buer had said that he had fought her one hundred sixty-eight times before she and the Traveler defeated him. It would not surprise him if she wanted to make him repeat this a hundred sixty-nine times as well, for the sake of revenge, or even double the count for the sake of truly making him suffer. Perhaps she will trap him here for all of eternity, perhaps she will refuse to let him ever leave. It would certainly be an effective way of preventing him from causing any more harm, that’s for sure.
The Gnosis makes contact with the Dendro Archon’s hand, and everything stops. It feels like he’s getting stabbed in the chest, like someone thrust their hands inside of his body and carved him out, until he became nothing but an empty shell. His skin feels like it’s on fire but his insides feel like they’re being frozen slowly, slowly, enough for him to feel every bit of hurt but not enough for his body to break so that he can finally force the suffering to end.
There was no shouting this time. Despite being a puppet, despite never experiencing physical fatigue, he is exhausted. And despite the lack of screaming, the dream has the tubes connecting him to the Kami snap.
It feels like someone is carving into his back. It feels like acid is being poured into his body. And before he has the time to even scream, he’s falling all over again.
Repeat count: 68.
He does not forget. He does not a single repeat, for he is a puppet designed to withstand eternity, and thus he never, ever forgets.
He is a puppet made to withstand eternity, and thus he catalogues every single action that occurs. He is a puppet made to withstand eternity, and thus he hears every single cracking of glass. He is a puppet made to withstand eternity, and thus he watches as his everything gets taken away from him, over and over again.
The pain is hellish, though it’s nothing he’s not used to. The feeling of having the Gnosis taken away, however - that is something he will never get used to. He feels it, feels every single bit of agony as everything he has ever worked for is crushed under a little girl’s foot, over and over again.
He is a puppet designed to withstand eternity, and thus he is not capable of forgetting anything.
Repeat count: 109.
When humans are in these kinds of situations, they have some kind of coping mechanism. Dissociation is a common one.
Perhaps he can do this by dehumanizing himself. After all, as a prisoner, he is little more than an object. Might as well get used to the role.
He- it. It is…
It is still a puppet designed to withstand eternity, regardless of the ways in which it regards itself. And this time again, it feels the pain of a thousand knives as the little girl takes the Gnosis.
Repeat count: 154.
His programming adamantly rejects being objectified, for he was designed to house a god.
There is something deep within him that prevents him from treating himself like an object, something like a physical block that refuses to allow him to dissociate. He is present for every second of his execution, for every second of his destruction, for every second of every repeat. He is a puppet, a pathetic creature, neither god nor human, neither object nor human, bound to this place for eternity.
If eternity was Mother’s goal, then perhaps the intention was for him to cling eternally to this pathetic, futile desire to become human. If eternity was Mother’s goal, then perhaps the intention was for him to cling eternally to this pathetic, futile desire to become a true god.
If eternity was Mother’s goal, then perhaps the intention was for him to cling eternally to this pathetic, futile desire to become something, anything more than a failure to be tossed aside.
He has lived for five hundred years, but he feels like he is barely two weeks old again.
Repeat count: 170.
Perhaps she intends to double the count, then.
Repeat count: 341.
Perhaps she intends to keep him here forever, then.
This would not surprise him.
Repeat count: 392.
If he were human, he would have gone insane.
If he were a god, he would have found a way out of here.
He is neither, and thus he is lesser than both.
Repeat count: 467.
So, this is where it all ends.
Isn’t that funny. Everything he has ever done has always been a pathetic imitation. And now, everything he has ever worked for will become naught.
Repeat count: 582.
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