Elysium
Night
A full moon bathes the city in a silent, silver glow. On a quiet rooftop, Teddy stands motionless, her eyes fixed on the distant, icy specks of starlight.
The sound of familiar footsteps approaches from behind, but she doesn't turn.
Yo, I brought some drinks.
She lifts the plastic bag in her right hand, its weight testifying to the few cans of synthetic alcoholic electrolyte and black tea inside.
Yours is the black tea. Not exactly the right time or place for a proper brew, so you'll have to make do.
After passing a can of black tea to Teddy, Moineau settles in beside her and pulls out an electrolytic vape.
Keep sucking on that thing, and you'll need a new pair of lungs before you know it.
Moineau offers a nonchalant smile, then exhales a plume of vapor.
Then I'll get them replaced.
It's not like there's a shortage of bionic parts.
...
The can of tea hisses as Teddy opens it. She brings it to her lips for a small sip.
Has Norman been taken care of?
I thought you weren't going to bring that up tonight.
...
The body's at the HQ morgue. The forensic investigator's on it, and Moore's writing the report.
But I doubt they'll get anything useful.
That body was a perfect copy of Christina's.
Sorry.
What are you apologizing for?
I was too late. I couldn't stop those rioting machines.
Moore and I see it the same way.
With those words, a heavy silence falls between them.
What was she hiding? Why did she have to run? And why were those machines hunting her?
...
There are too many loose ends. It feels like we're missing a layer, something deeper we haven't even scratched.
The cause of the "Derealization Disorder", who's controlling the machines, the link between Christina and Norman's names and faces... we've got nothing.
Teddy sighs in resignation and crushes the empty can in her hand.
And then there's Jack.
What about him?
He's different from both Christina and Norman.
His wounds were not the same. He...
The memory of that illusion flashes behind Teddy's eyes.
Moineau's drone, the unfurling blade of light, its lethal lunge toward "her."
...His wounds didn't show any signs of high-temperature burns.
A sudden dryness tightens her throat.
She cracks open another can of tea, takes a bracing sip, and finally speaks again.
Plus, Jack had a normal, verifiable life history in Elysium. He was not someone who just "appeared out of nowhere."
So you're saying he was just an ordinary person caught in the crossfire?
I've been thinking... Maybe Christina and Norman weren't actually killed by whoever's controlling the rioting machines.
Teddy proposes the hypothesis in a half-joking tone, glancing at Moineau for a reaction as she finishes.
With the electrolytic vape between her lips, Moineau scratches her head in frustration.
That just makes this mess even more complicated.
And your evidence?
...Nothing concrete.
I have a much simpler theory.
She rests her chin on her hand, explaining methodically.
Jack isn't a Construct. There's no need for special methods against him.
The rioting machines alone would be more than enough.
...It is a possibility.
Moineau is about to take another drag from her electrolytic vape when Teddy snatches it from her.
Teddy raises the device to toss it into the plastic bag, then freezes.
She pulls it back, her eyes narrowing as she examines it.
What's this even feel like?
A mischievous grin spreads across Moineau's face.
Want to try it yourself?
Ah, never mind. Can't have a minor vaping.
Teddy rolls her eyes, tossing the vape into the bag like it's offended her.
"Minor"... I've told you, you have no talent for jokes.
Clouds drift in the distance, slipping away at a pace too slow for the eye to truly capture.
Moineau stares, her gaze unfocused, and exhales a perfect smoke ring. She watches, silent, as the breeze unravels it into nothing.
Moineau... why did you become an inspector?
The purple-haired woman hesitates, carefully weighing her response.
...Perhaps because this is the only place I have.
Heh.
She lets out a self-deprecating chuckle.
All I want is to protect Elysium—this city.
Years ago, a younger Moineau had posed a question to that figure.
Father, why is this city called Elysium?
In Greek mythology, there's said to be a paradise called Elysium.
I hope this place can become a similar sanctuary for those who need it.
When that day comes, you'll be able to run freely here, under every sunrise and sunset.
You'll be like a bird, flying freely.
Too bad I'm just an unwinged bird.
She murmurs, the words too soft for Teddy to catch.
What did you say?
You know, I've always envied you.
You got to choose. Becoming a Construct, leaving your family behind... escaping the cage.
...
What's the difference? I just traded one cage for a slightly larger one.
And now even Babylonia, that "slightly bigger cage," has crumbled to dust.
A stabbing pain pulses through her M.I.N.D. again.
Humanity clawed its way out of the Great Depression into a Golden Age. The World Government was barely established.
Then someone decided to start a global nuclear war. The surface was scorched, and the surviving cities went into lockdown.
So, Eden II became the sanctuary in the sky, with the elites fighting for a spot on their glorious Noah's Ark.
But even the Ark sank in the end. Ironic, isn't it?
Her face is a stark, smileless void.
So go ahead and mock the very idea of "cages."
People are always trapped by something.
If you want to fly, then fly. You're a sparrow, after all.
A hearty laugh escapes Moineau, sparked by Teddy's words.
You know what? That is such a "Teddy" thing to say.
Not everyone sees the world as darkly as you do.
Well, I suppose I could never match your particular brand of sharp-tongued superiority.
That's debatable.
A wave of even louder laughter overtakes Moineau, leaving her breathless.
When it passes, her face goes still, the mirth draining away to reveal a perfect, unsettling neutrality.
Remember when we first met?
You were just this tiny thing, tucked away in holographic cyberspace, teaching yourself to code all alone.
Stop talking to me like some wise elder. It's gross.
Moineau offers no retort.
Not everyone can break free from their cages.
Moineau pulls out another electrolytic vape, her next words lost to a sharp inhale.
Without waiting for Teddy's response, she's at the rooftop's edge, turning to face Teddy.
Let's call it a day. I'm not going to sacrifice my nightlife to more work.
Moineau tips backward into the void, her body swallowed by the night. Her final words and a ghost of vapor are all that remain, lingering for a moment around Teddy before dissipating.
But then, the falling bird soars upward, borne aloft by her drones that carry her into the distance.
Teddy remains perfectly still, a statue watching the drones' fading light trails until they are extinguished by the dark. Only then does a hint of sorrow enter her eyes.
Can I trust you... Moineau...
