Lupa is quiet for a moment. "Did his Hunger... was it only satisfied by the flesh of people? And was he transformed from human to something else?"
He looks away. "In the world outside the Junkyard, they called it 'Tuning' and the demons 'Avatars.' They would hunt those they had barred from their city, imprison them, and eventually use them as food. The meat was canned."
Re: CW: direct references to cannibalism from here on
"He was—and it was," Steven says, frowning. "Though it didn't have to be human, just thinking meat, and he did not need it for every meal, just on a regular basis. He and a friend and I would go out to hunt goblin to satisfy his hunger."
"There were no animals in the Junkyard; the soldiers were the only living things. I don't know about the world outside, but I don't think there were many animals? And goblins were just a subclass of demons. So I think... that 'thinking' might be what is required for it to satisfy the Hunger. Something that regular animals don't possess, but Pokemon seem to."
Lupa pauses for a moment. "Also, Avatar may be a... more accurate description than demon when other worlds are considered. One of the other Tribes had angels among their ranks. Mine was Cerberus, and Anubis was the demon of one of my squad leaders as well as a few other soldiers."
"We didn't have demons per se," Steven says. "At least not in the sense you seem to speak of them." He frowns. If he were anyone else, he thinks, this might have turned his stomach.
Only he's not anyone else. His stomach remains unturned.
"I've been through frightening and disquieting circumstances enough so that little shocks me," Steven admits.
He reaches over to gingerly pat Lupa's back. "There's nothing wrong with coming to enjoy what they have shaped you to be—it's better than to resign yourself to misery."
Lupa frowns at the admission. "I don't... believe that anyone should have to--"
The touch stops him short, and he's tense under it. "Are you certain? I can still hear the screaming, feel the struggling, taste the--"
He chokes and finally says. "Almost every night. In dreams I am trapped in those memories, and not the cherished ones of before over and over. Is it right to enjoy what I've become when even a day of survival dooms several other lives to a painful and abrupt end?"
Softly, he grits out. "Here is different, for now. But how long will it last?"
It's objectively terrible of him, Steven thinks, that everything Lupa describes seems more compelling than anything else. Well then. It is not as if he didn't already know how fucked up he was.
"... it is understandable, whether or not it is right, when the alternative is to hate yourself," he says, finally.
Muscles in Lupa's jaw pull tight as he clenches his teeth. Then he breathes out, a forceful rush of air out through the nose.
"From a logical standpoint, you are correct. With death denied, and no means of active atonement, self-directed hatred serves no purpose."
He lifts his hand to look at the indent on his ring finger. "I have discovered that feelings do not listen to logic. I was relieved to feel myself dying. But I also felt regret, because my death caused distress in Ga--the Embryon."
"He was-is the strategist of the Embryon. In the aftermath of my Tribe being decimated by Varin Omega and his new power, I sought out the Embryon. In other circumstances, I would have proposed an alliance, but what I could offer them was information, and my head, in exchange for treating my men fairly after absorbing them into their Tribe. I could see honor in his eyes, and I told him that after he challenged me. Later, he said that he would tear down the Temple if it tried to enforce the law that required my death at the hands of the Embryon in order to be admitted to the top, so that we could all go to Nirvana together, and that I could tell my child what I had desired to. I gave him my ring. He killed me after the Hunger drove me mad and kept a promise to tell my child my last words after he and the Embryon got to the world outside."
Lupa sighs again. "I saw him again briefly, after we were all dead, and granted him the power of my demon so that he and other other Embryon could challenge God and save the Earth from God's anger and pain."
"I respected him greatly, even before I met him. A good strategist is very valuable, and for a smaller Tribe to control territory the way the Embryon did, he would have to have been very skilled, even new. That he would be willing to go to such lengths for me... I--"
Lupa frowns, a little frustrated, but clearly unable to figure out what he wants to say there exactly. Words are hard.
"Why?" Steven asks. "This is a better place than your junkyard. It's safe, there's no Hunger, and nobody need fight and kill over territory here. Why shouldn't you wish he were somewhere better?"
Lupa shakes his head. "He and the Embryon are on a mission to stop the destruction of the Earth by God. He is with his Tribe. And surely, if there is a true Nirvana they are destined to find peace and happiness together there after they succeed."
"This place is a paradise compared to the Junkyard, but to damn the Earth, take him from his Tribe, and deny him true peace and happiness is selfish. ...but I still desire it."
"We are not ourselves but copies of the true versions," Steven says. "Our true selves stay in our worlds while the selves we are here—our copied consciousnesses—get to experience respite."
Lupa's eyes narrow. He's not sure he likes the sound of that. "If this is true, what would this place be? Who has brought us here? And what is the true purpose?"
To give a 'copy' of someone respite instead of the actual person... yeah, seems suspicious.
"Some kind of simulation," Steven says with a shrug, "based off a child's game. As for the rest of it... God only knows. I don't talk about it much to other people—most people don't like the implications any more than you do. But it got pointed out to me as a theory and it makes more sense to me than anything else."
Lupa's concern immediately turns... almost angry? Definitely sad and worried, and the anger doesn't seem to be directed at Steven.
"The Junkyard was a simulation. I was a combat AI. We all were... except we were not. When Angel infected us with the Atma Virus, it awakened older data--memories, souls--of the people we had been before. So you understand why I am extremely concerned about your theory."
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fingersandteeth) wrote2022-02-21 05:11 pm
CW: direct references to cannibalism from here on
He looks away. "In the world outside the Junkyard, they called it 'Tuning' and the demons 'Avatars.' They would hunt those they had barred from their city, imprison them, and eventually use them as food. The meat was canned."
Re: CW: direct references to cannibalism from here on
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Lupa pauses for a moment. "Also, Avatar may be a... more accurate description than demon when other worlds are considered. One of the other Tribes had angels among their ranks. Mine was Cerberus, and Anubis was the demon of one of my squad leaders as well as a few other soldiers."
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Only he's not anyone else. His stomach remains unturned.
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Lupa looks away. "I don't-- The Hunger is unbearable. But sometimes I miss...parts of being Cerberus. And that... I feel fear about it."
What if that missing becomes strong enough that the Hunger becomes an acceptable price to pay?
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He reaches over to gingerly pat Lupa's back. "There's nothing wrong with coming to enjoy what they have shaped you to be—it's better than to resign yourself to misery."
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The touch stops him short, and he's tense under it. "Are you certain? I can still hear the screaming, feel the struggling, taste the--"
He chokes and finally says. "Almost every night. In dreams I am trapped in those memories, and not the cherished ones of before over and over. Is it right to enjoy what I've become when even a day of survival dooms several other lives to a painful and abrupt end?"
Softly, he grits out. "Here is different, for now. But how long will it last?"
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"... it is understandable, whether or not it is right, when the alternative is to hate yourself," he says, finally.
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"From a logical standpoint, you are correct. With death denied, and no means of active atonement, self-directed hatred serves no purpose."
He lifts his hand to look at the indent on his ring finger. "I have discovered that feelings do not listen to logic. I was relieved to feel myself dying. But I also felt regret, because my death caused distress in Ga--the Embryon."
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Lupa sighs again. "I saw him again briefly, after we were all dead, and granted him the power of my demon so that he and other other Embryon could challenge God and save the Earth from God's anger and pain."
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"No wonder he was significant to you."
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There's conflict there though, clearly.
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Lupa frowns, a little frustrated, but clearly unable to figure out what he wants to say there exactly. Words are hard.
"But it is selfish to wish him here."
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"This place is a paradise compared to the Junkyard, but to damn the Earth, take him from his Tribe, and deny him true peace and happiness is selfish. ...but I still desire it."
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To give a 'copy' of someone respite instead of the actual person... yeah, seems suspicious.
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"The Junkyard was a simulation. I was a combat AI. We all were... except we were not. When Angel infected us with the Atma Virus, it awakened older data--memories, souls--of the people we had been before. So you understand why I am extremely concerned about your theory."