Oh, you're finally awake.
Can you hear me?
Her vision is blurry. Her head feels heavy, as if she has just surfaced from deep underwater. The suffocating weight of near-drowning clings to her. Shapes sway around her. Slowly, one becomes clear—a girl with long hair.
She stands in a shaft of morning light, the edges of her hair glowing gold.
Awake? How long was I out?
A sudden jolt snaps her body into motion, instincts taking over.
Sorry for disrupting the mission.
Mission?
The familiar girl giggles as if at a joke, stopping Discord from pulling out her IV and getting up.
This is Babylonia. There's no work for you here.
?
Babylonia... that's where I serve.
Serve?
The girl looks just as puzzled, but keeps moving. She pulls back the off-white curtains to let in more sunlight, then tucks a soft cushion behind Discord's back.
Once done, she returns to the bedside.
You've been retired for a long time now, sis.
What?!
Discord struggles to process her words, unsure if it's being called "sis" that stuns her, or if it's the word "retired" catching in her throat like a fishbone.
The girl quickly hides the troubled look that comes with having to contradict her, replacing it with the calm smile of someone used to these reactions.
Another beautiful morning! It's breakfast time. Come on.
The girl deftly produces a tray of light food, served in identical small insulated containers.
Steaming oatmeal sprinkled with a pinch of cinnamon—easy to swallow, with no pulp or residue. Brightly colored boiled carrot cubes and baked vegetables, clearly chosen for balanced nutrition...
Beside them, smooth pale-yellow mashed potatoes covered in light gravy, and finally, dessert—a small cherry-topped cake?
That same cloying, speckled frosting as always.
You're not supposed to eat sweets anymore. But this cherry cake? I saved it for you.
The girl smiles playfully.
The familiar colors and scents stimulate her senses. Discord squints, enduring the tingling in her mind as she recalls sharing this exact meal she ate countless times before—with someone.
Against the backdrop of this cherry cake, the date counter on the wall keeps ticking upward.
Finally, the cream melts away and the crimson fruit falls, releasing the scent of rot.
Don't tell me... you've forgotten my name again? I'm Lilith.
The girl presses the spoon into Discord's hand, her expression shifting from playful reproach to the patient gentleness one shows a patient.
Confused by the strange safety she feels, Discord pauses, the cream-tipped spoon hovering at her lips.
No appetite? You should still try to eat something.
No... that's not right. Your name is...
(Eleanor.)
What is it?
Melancholy washes over Discord as she searches for a mirror to glimpse herself. Is she gravely ill? Dying? Or has she been cast aside yet again, her usefulness spent?
So you don't even remember who I am now? I suppose that's to be expected.
<b>I'm your daughter, Lilith.</b>
No, that's not right! You just called me <b>sis</b>...
Discord struggles to her feet, scanning the room for the mirror that would show her the truth and shatter the lie. The only thing on the wall is a peaceful pastoral painting—blue sky, white clouds—its colors melting into one another until they are nothing but indistinct blotches.
She can't look away. The blotches start to run, pigment dripping to the floor and onto her own hands, which have become cracked and withered.
The soft curtains stir in the breeze, casting shifting shadows across the room. A faint, pleasant scent lingers in the air, mixed with the sharp tang of antiseptic.
Is this Babylonia too? The deathly silence only serves to remind her how ridiculous her unease really is.
Sigh. Poor mother.
You have degenerative memory loss. Your memories get mixed up, and sometimes you can't even remember what happened a few minutes ago...
We go through conversations like this several times every morning.
Degenerative... memory loss...
Do you want me to explain again how to slow this kind of central nervous system degeneration?
You need good habits, a balanced diet, and light exercise. But even the finest clinic in Babylonia can't reverse it. The aphasia, the apraxia, the agnosia—they will keep returning.
Discord freezes completely. The bedsheet under her hands is wrinkled deep from how hard she has been gripping it.
Sometimes you'll get angry. You'll see things that aren't there. You'll forget the past. You might even mistake me for your enemy.
But that's alright. I'll take care of everything for you. Because I am your █▅█▊, Lilith.
No... no, that's not possible. How could I be your...?
We're companions. You're my reason to live. My...
...
...
Images flicker and fade, leaving her caught between dream and waking.
Maybe it was the movie we watched last night that's making you feel like this.
In the movie, high-ranking officers planted false memories in soldiers—childhood sweethearts always by their side, siblings with unbreakable bonds, or goals so important they would stake their lives on them.
Those beautiful illusions kept them fighting for a hundred days straight.
And when they learned the truth, they had the same empty look you do right now.
<b>Maybe, in your dreams, you were fighting just as hard to protect me too?</b>
Time and again, she followed orders, plummeting from great heights with crushing force.
Chains coiled around her throat, cutting off her breath. She gripped her weapon, slick with blood, as the hounds leaped at her with murderous force.
Gunfire hounded her. Smoke chased her through the dim concrete. She crawled like a trapped animal, ragged breaths of the barely-surviving echoing in her ears.
A silhouette beneath the crescent moon.
It's all undeniably real.
No...
That's not it.
Then what is your reason to fight?
...Orders. Always orders.
Orders? No, you're wrong. We're mother and daughter, sisters. Our bond is selfless and close. How could something so cold as orders hold it together?
No, that was only what I wished for.
We shared a wonderful life, growing up together. You worked in a tailor's shop, became my personal seamstress, until we came to Babylonia and grew old... You used to tell me life passes in the blink of an eye.
...
So you were fake all along...
Does it matter?
Then what is real?
If you mean what can be smelled, tasted, touched, seen—those are only processed electronic signals.
Emotion is humanity's greatest weakness. So many people spend their lives chasing pleasure, seeking comfort in virtual worlds fed straight into their brains...
If you believe real feelings can be woven into clothes, hidden in a doll, or engraved on a dog tag, why can't they exist inside your "mind" too?
I know your wounds, your desires, your dreams. They abandoned you. Some saw you as a stand-in for a lost partner, some as a necessary sacrifice for their ideals, some as penance to wash away their sins...
They saved me, but I...
<color=#ff4e4eff>They used you.</color>
But I'm different. I see you as a person. You want to be loved, so I...
Lilith pulls her into an embrace. Her cheek rests on the girl's shoulder, long hair curling around her nose.
Light from the window wraps them in layers of gold.
"All the things that warm the soul and calm the mind are sealed within memory and the self."
"I give them to you, though you have no time to understand them."
I still have... a mission.
Forget the mission. You can have your own life beyond duty.
The war ended long ago. There's no need to fight anymore. We've already begun our new life together.
I play the Tannhauser Overture on the piano every day while you accompany me.
You're a part of me, so I know. Your wish is to live peacefully, relying on your own craft, isn't it?
My... wish.
She stares at the blank window beyond the curtains. Thread-like cracks begin to spider across the glass.
