Capítulo 21: Mikrós Kósmos

Adam Wayfarer was hungry. Scratch that, he wasn't. He was confused, as most people are wont to be. The pocket world, that's how he'd come to know it. But did it have a name? Was it sentient? There was a lot he didn't know and a lot more he needed to learn. But who'd teach him? Cincinnati had warmed up to him a little, Darkus still refused to care about his existence, and Gilgamesh was a bastard as always.

He was basking in the sunlight, unable to believe such a beautiful day could turn into an unforgiving nightmare in a flash. He needed to understand the world, but he didn't even understand his body. It was pathetic.

"You look like someone threw up in your coffee," Crystal observed, taking a sip of what seemed to be poorly made tea.

"That looks like it'd kill you before this world does," Adam shrugged and returned to his watch.

"I don't mind; it tastes like depression, though," she made a face, one that Adam had never associated with her at all.

"What are you doing here, anyway? And how's Esme? She seems to have warmed up to me, finally. I wondered if I needed to sacrifice to an elder god or something." Adam teased even though his words were rife with meaning.

"We haven't had a proper deity in a while. A thousand years ago, people had gods in droves, and the gods dictated their existence. No god dictates our existence; not anymore." Adam looked at her, wondering if he was hearing amiss.

"And how is that a bad thing? We aren't under the thumb of fickle gods who can cast us off the moment we show any sign of weakness. Is that your idea of a good time? I knew you were weird, but this takes the cake," Adam laughed, even though it never reached his eyes.

"You're just jealous because you don't believe in anything. I'd rather be a vengeful god than humans who just do despicable things. I need to be able to blame someone for something. How can I blame someone who is practically the same as me?" She agonized over it, and Adam started to put one and one together.

"Wait, are you actually religious?" Adam looked as though he'd just seen a ghost.

"Yes, and what of it? Isn't it better than not having anything to believe in?" He seemed to have touched a nerve because she became defensive almost immediately.

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. I can't remember seeing anything good come out of religion. All my life, I'd been told that things would change for the better. They didn't. I was told I could do amazing things, but that was probably another lie.

"Another lie I bought. I didn't question it; I wanted to be special, to have something attributed to me. But here I am, confused beyond reason. I don't know what to do or where I'm going. Religion didn't save me; it just made my doubts. Faces I couldn't recognize, but I knew like the back of my hand.

"You're the one good thing that's come out of religion." Adam's eyes were hard, his words coming out harsher than he'd intended. But Crystal watched him, a quizzical look on his face.

"I've never been called good before," she admitted shyly, and he noticed that her face was turned away.

"You haven't? That's a surprise; you're the kindest person I know. Maybe they didn't tell you because it was glaring?"

It made sense to Adam, although he didn't know why Crystal was hung up on being good. What exactly did being good do for her?

"You have a sweet tongue; I hope it doesn't become forked in the future. And you, don't you want to be a good person?" She nudged him, her face red from blushing.

"I don't care. Good, evil, what's the difference? We created these terms and somehow bend the rules to suit ourselves when it comes right down to it. A soldier who kills is a patriot; a civilian who does the same is a murderer. Humans create rules and turn the rules upside their heads just because."

Adam gave Crystal the most chilling smile she'd ever seen.

"I won't be a pawn in a game of inter-dimensional chess. Gods? Devils? Humans? Animals? Who cares? I don't. I never will."

Crystal watched Adam try to dispel the tension as soon as the conversation veered too deep into murky waters. But she felt confusion welling up in her being.

"What does it mean to be good?"

The question she didn't voice, the one she was scared of finding a response to. Because deep down, she knew;

She was a hypocrite.

Cincinnati notched her arrow, letting it fly free as it whizzed into the distance and lodged itself in the branch of a tree before flying past it.

"Shit," she cursed as her companion took its original shape, that of her childhood friend.

"You seem to be struggling. Do you need help?" He asked, but she shook her head. She missed the smell of trees and the feel of grass beneath her feet. The landscape of the mikrós kósmos annoyed her to no end.

"I could have done it, I swear," she ranted, but the hologram just stared at her, not moving to help alleviate her worries.

"This isn't real; none of it is." She went on her knees, overcome by the despair that's begun to take root in her psyche. The scenery she created fizzled in and out of existence, the barren landscape making a showing of itself once more

"There's no way out, is there?" She said to the empty air, disregarding her hologram for now. She knew its true name; she knew the truth of the world.

And the System that ran it.

"When you're done feeling sorry for yourself, we have a mission," Cincinnati sighed out loud.

"Have you come to make fun of me?" She said, without turning back to check out the new arrival.

"I don't care. Now, what are you doing?" The voice was a tad higher than usual, even though it was technically always too low for others to hear what he was saying.

"Darkus, please. Let me have this moment." She pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

"They're making their move. And we have to intercept them." Darkus didn't look like he was playing, and Cincinnati hated that for some reason.

"Who cares? They'd do what they always do. Pick off what's left like the scavengers they are." Her words came out bitter, devoid of the slightest warmth.

"You know our job, don't make this harder than it already is." Even though Darkus didn't seem to be pissed off, Cincinnati knew what happened whenever he got mad and didn't want a repetition of that.

"You always cover up for her, don't you? You don't care about what happens to the rest of us; all you are is a loyal dog. That's the beginning and end of you." Cincinnati's words were scathing, but Darkus dusted himself off as though he was impervious to her taunts.

"Once you're done with your tantrum, walk with me."

She flipped him the bird, but he was unfazed.

That's how he'd always been, her little brother. And sometimes, a spawn of the devil. But he'd not always been that way until that fateful day they fell from the sky.

The day everything changed.