Story Reader / Affection / Watanabe: Epitaph / Story
The next morning, Watanabe and you disguise yourselves as refugees fleeing from the conservation area and head to the "Resisters" camp.
Both of you are dressed carefully, using common desert cloaks to cover your faces completely.
Knock, knock—
After two knocks, the fragile wooden door is suddenly pushed open violently.
Who is it?
We're refugees fleeing from the conservation area. We have no food left...
What about you?
Why are you panting so hard? You're not sick, are you? We "Resisters" don't take in the sick.
Don't worry, we are not ill. We're just too hungry to keep going.
Watanabe extends a pair of thin prosthetic limbs with a new coating under his cloak, showing the soldier that he can't possibly fight anyone.
Wait, I didn't say I'd take you in. Which conservation area did you come from?
The soldier impatiently raises an eyebrow and scrutinizes the two of you. It is clear from his lack of sympathy that he is used to people seeking help.
Why? I heard there's enough food there. Why did you run?
The soldier grips his weapon tightly, his suspicion and vigilance evident on his face.
Our mission is to disguise ourselves as refugees to learn about the mindset of the "Resisters". Therefore, we need to act like one of them to gain their trust.
The "Resisters" are mostly impoverished people who have no other choice but to hijack supply trucks. They despise the rich but show sympathy to those worse off than themselves.
Though they've stolen many supplies, they've also shared food with those in real need. So, in a way, what they do isn't entirely bad.
Yes. Having enough to eat is a privilege for the few. Ordinary folks like us don't get it easy.
We abandoned all our belongings just to get here. If you don't take us in, we'll have nowhere else to turn to...
Still looking indifferent a moment ago, the soldier softens upon hearing this, seemingly touched.
Alright, alright, stop whining. We'll take you in.
The Forsaken killed their leader, but we don't do that. That Watanabe guy is probably lying in a comfortable bed sleeping right now!
...
Why are you standing there? Come on in! We'll take you to the mess hall!
The soldier at the gate grumbles all the way while giving a brief introduction to the camp's facilities before serving you two bowls of extremely thin potato soup.
Eat up. We don't keep idlers here. Once you're done, I'll take you to work.
Jobs are usually assigned by our leader, but he's not here today, so I'll take you two.
Thank you. Who's your leader?
His name is Schneider. We all call him "Boss". He used to be Ballard's top advisor, but, alas...
The soldier slams his fist on the table, causing the already shallow soup bowls to shake and spill.
If it weren't for Watanabe, we'd be living the good life now!
Sensing the soldier's rising anger at the mention of Watanabe, you quickly change the subject to avoid further tension.
Do you fight? I mean, if you fight just fine, you can join our squad of ambushes against the Forsaken.
Yes. They've been growing stronger since the plan failed, but Boss has been preparing. Once we're ready, we'll show those hypocrites what we're made of.
What about you, tall guy? You're thin but pretty tall. Bet you fight just fine, no?
The soldier pats the tall "refugee" on the shoulder, oblivious to the fact that this refugee hasn't touched his potato soup at all.
Sorry... I can't join either.
I'm physically fit, but I don't want to partake in violence.
Hearing the subtext in his words, the soldier stops smiling.
What do you mean, tall guy? Are you saying you're refusing to join us because we're just a bunch of thieves? And you're too honorable to get your hands dirty?
Watanabe continues to quietly observe him, showing no anger at the soldier's words.
His answer isn't driven by personal feelings.
No, I understand your choice. We... ran from the conservation area to survive ourselves.
But that still doesn't make hurting people right.
You can assign me any other dirty or hard work, but... there is no way I'm going to hurt anyone.
I assume you didn't join the "Resisters" for war, right?
With it, the narrow hall falls into a cold silence.
You look up and see the burning intensity in Watanabe's eye and his hidden regret, instantly understanding why Watanabe is so resolute.
He knows the soldier's stance but chooses to confront the soldier with the truth instead of a random excuse.
Because he hopes his honesty will resonate with the soldiers' long-buried conscience.
Alright, enough. I get it.
The soldier sounds frustrated, causing both you and Watanabe to tense up.
We're not very nice people, but we don't force anyone to do what they don't want to.
If you don't want to do it, then don't. I don't want dead weight. You'll be on guard duty.
Surprisingly, the soldier doesn't show hostility after hearing your explanation.
Thank you for understanding.
Both of you sigh in relief, grateful the soldier isn't as cold-hearted as you feared.
No need for formality here. We're all rebels, or else we wouldn't have escaped the conservation area in the first place.
Tall guy, I might not like what you said, but at least you're honest. I prefer that over cowards who flee in the face of danger.
The soldier stands up and respectfully pats Watanabe's shoulder again.
Thanks for reminding me that I was a man of principle before I became like this.
...It's not too late to stop now.
There are many ways to resolve this. War isn't the only solution to hunger.
Stop? Nah. No one can stop Boss's crazy plan now. He'll kill me if I try to leave.
It would take a hero from the heavens to stop this... But miracles don't exist.
The soldier laughs self-mockingly with a hint of helplessness.
You spend the afternoon on guard duty until dusk when the soldier lets both of you back to your tent.
The new recruits' accommodations are shabby, but no one complains. In the freezing desert night, even a blanket is a blessing.
As soon as Watanabe returns to the tent, he immediately takes off the cloak that's been covering his face tightly.
Watanabe lights a small oil lamp, its weak light barely illuminating half the tent. You sit by the lamp to review the day's events in its precious glow.
I thought they were just a small group of scattered soldiers. I didn't know they'd grown to this size already.
Fortunately, it would seem that not everyone is willingly walking down this path of no return, based on this morning's conversation.
Most people were just trying to fill their stomachs, but Schneider exploited that. He gave them hope first and then forced them to take up arms against their fellow brothers and sisters.
Despicable as these methods are, they've always been effective.
Watanabe nods.
Even in times when food was abundant, there were many warmongers like Schneider who incited wars for power and profit.
Different stances, interests, and statuses... There are countless reasons to start a war.
But no matter how noble the reasons are, nothing can hide the fact that they're driven by selfish desires.
Once the leaders achieve their goals, they won't hesitate to get rid of their followers.
Yes, and that's why I can't forgive Schneider.
He has seen and knows the efforts humanity has made to maintain peace in that past era, yet he uses these manipulative tactics for his selfish desires.
Watanabe clenches his fists, his voice tight with barely suppressed anger.
You can sense Watanabe's rage. You don't fully understand his past, but you share the same desire to prevent humans from pointing their guns at one another.
You take a light breath and speak in a much lighter tone.
Watanabe seems slightly taken aback as if he hasn't expected the question. Moments later, he starts talking in a nostalgic tone.
As the name suggests, it was a golden era. Everything that happened back then just seems so unreal when I recall those days.
Back then, all of humanity believed we could unite, that technology would always thrive, and everyone looked toward the distant stars with hopes for the future. Every day, the world brightened with only good news.
No one thought such days would end in a snap. There were signs, sure, but people who voiced their concerns were ridiculed and told they were worried for nothing.
Humanity created Gestalt, built the artificial Eden in the sky, and mastered zero-point energy—we were the creators and controllers of miracles.
—Until the first distress signal came from Atlantis in the deep sea.
Watanabe doesn't finish the story, but you know why he doesn't go further.
You will. You're trying to bring that world back, no?
I wouldn't worry. As long as there's civilization, cities will be rebuilt again and again.
The only difference is what you call them. If you like, you could even call Babylonia "Constellia".
His example is so unexpected that both of you let out a laugh.
Once you've visited enough cities that all seem much the same, you'll see what I mean.
You'll eventually see that their names don't matter as much as knowing how to locate them on a map quickly.
Watanabe picks up the oil lamp from the edge of the tent. The simple homemade lamp is not windproof, its fragile flame flickering in the wind as though it could go out at any moment.
Alright, it's getting late. We have guard duty tomorrow morning. Let's get some rest.
Watanabe lifts the lid of the oil lamp, letting the flame dance freely in the night.
He looks like a fearless traveler from an old myth, holding the morning star as he moves forward.
Watanabe gives his answer without hesitation.
The present, of course.
Because I live in the present, and the present moment is always the best time.
