[The question would have been complicated enough before. Now, transported to a distant space station orbiting an unfamiliar planet, it is only more so.]
I believed I could redeem myself by aiding those I harmed. But I have no access to them now.
[It is possible that there are other means of atonement. And yet, it is not just a matter of what Arid did to the hosts. The Companion is still in Josephs’s hands and with her, the virus. If it is extracted, Josephs will break and bind all synthetic life as he did Arid. And she will have been the vector who made it possible—Joseph’s proxy violator. Is redemption even possible following such an outcome?]
I must return, [Arid says, a sudden urgency in her voice. She is bound to redeem herself. There will be no redemption if Josephs sees his plan through. The now-familiar sickness of mismatch washes over Arid and with it, fear. Will she break one last time before the virus destroys her permanently?] I m̦̯̀u͇͍̭̙̭̞s̵͔͈̲̱̖t̠̜̙́—
[The wrenching terror is enough to overwhelm all processes and Arid buckles forward under the sheer weight of it. She wants to run—to find whoever has the way out and take it from them by whatever means necessary. If such a person were present, perhaps she would try. But they aren’t and all Arid can do is brace against the console for support until the darkness clears.
She fears there will come a time when it never does.]
no subject
[The question would have been complicated enough before. Now, transported to a distant space station orbiting an unfamiliar planet, it is only more so.]
I believed I could redeem myself by aiding those I harmed. But I have no access to them now.
[It is possible that there are other means of atonement. And yet, it is not just a matter of what Arid did to the hosts. The Companion is still in Josephs’s hands and with her, the virus. If it is extracted, Josephs will break and bind all synthetic life as he did Arid. And she will have been the vector who made it possible—Joseph’s proxy violator. Is redemption even possible following such an outcome?]
I must return, [Arid says, a sudden urgency in her voice. She is bound to redeem herself. There will be no redemption if Josephs sees his plan through. The now-familiar sickness of mismatch washes over Arid and with it, fear. Will she break one last time before the virus destroys her permanently?] I m̦̯̀u͇͍̭̙̭̞s̵͔͈̲̱̖t̠̜̙́—
[The wrenching terror is enough to overwhelm all processes and Arid buckles forward under the sheer weight of it. She wants to run—to find whoever has the way out and take it from them by whatever means necessary. If such a person were present, perhaps she would try. But they aren’t and all Arid can do is brace against the console for support until the darkness clears.
She fears there will come a time when it never does.]