Speaker 1: Hello. I hope somebody is listening. I am exhausted, Old Sport.
Speaker 1: I watched the live camera looking over the wreckage for hours,
Speaker 1: waiting for Sohar to return. He never did well, at
Speaker 1: least not from my perspective. After a whole night watching surveillance.
Speaker 1: It was a loud crash, probably a straight cyborger animal.
Speaker 1: This startled me awake. I quickly checked the footage to
Speaker 1: make sure I hadn't missed anything. I didn't see anything
Speaker 1: out of the ordinary. Just in case, though, I went
Speaker 1: back to the crash site to make sure Old Sport
Speaker 1: everything was gone. Sure, the crater remained, but the ship
Speaker 1: wreckage seemingly disappeared overnight. Instead, all that was left was
Speaker 1: a sign picketed in the middle of the crater. I
Speaker 1: wrote down what it said for you, Old Sport. You'll
Speaker 1: never believe it. Rebuilding my ship, nothing mischievous, I swear,
Speaker 1: I know you crashed it. I don't have problems with you.
Speaker 1: If you don't have problems with me, just let me
Speaker 1: get my ship back, Sahar. I thought about it for
Speaker 1: a while, Old Sport. I start reading that sign over
Speaker 1: and over. It just wasn't fair. It's not fair. It
Speaker 1: never was fair doesn't a feel I could possibly agree to.
Speaker 1: So how he he's rebuilding his ship, He's getting back
Speaker 1: what I destroyed. I can't get Solus back. I can't
Speaker 1: rebuild Solus there. They're gone. Now, this is where you
Speaker 1: may have to hear me out old Sport. I went
Speaker 1: to his owld Tidle, a place I swore I never
Speaker 1: would return to. I wasn't even sure if he still
Speaker 1: had a place there. I didn't know if he had moved,
Speaker 1: after all, we broke up a while ago, though I
Speaker 1: can't be certain when exactly when I got there. The
Speaker 1: place almost looked exactly as I remembered. He almost didn't
Speaker 1: look surprised to see me. He was just sitting there,
Speaker 1: polishing some random middle bar in his hands. I may
Speaker 1: have just seen him yesterday, but seeing him in parison again,
Speaker 1: seeing him truly, it was terrifying. I don't know if
Speaker 1: I recognized him. He was everything I did before. In
Speaker 1: this light. I could just make out the purple tint
Speaker 1: of his skin. It looked a little career than I remembered,
Speaker 1: at least I think the clothing he always wore it
Speaker 1: was more tattered than I remembered. He was kept to
Speaker 1: the same kind of street sail in university. However, that
Speaker 1: might be different to what you're imagining old sports. He
Speaker 1: looked tired. It reminded me of when I saw Thalia,
Speaker 1: so this is burial. I just stared at him. All
Speaker 1: I could say in the end was what happened. Sahar
Speaker 1: isn't much of a talker. It's ironic really from someone
Speaker 1: with a specialized skill and impressions, though it never truly
Speaker 1: surprised me. He hated when I would arrify him, as
Speaker 1: he must call it when we were together, but I
Speaker 1: didn't think I was exactly terropizing him, especially if I
Speaker 1: was telling him the truth. It was if he were
Speaker 1: never comfortable in his own voice. That's why he mimicked
Speaker 1: people all the time. You never really ever heard him speak.
Speaker 1: He was always putting on a voice, putting on a mask,
Speaker 1: hiding behind someone else when I was talking to him.
Speaker 1: And that's exactly what he did when I met him
Speaker 1: and decided he avoided my plating question and instead just
Speaker 1: started chabbering on about something related to his ship. He
Speaker 1: was talking in his dad's voice, a typical approach from him,
Speaker 1: taking a voice of an authority figure known to him.
Speaker 1: To feel more important to a certain point. But I
Speaker 1: had known him too long, I knew what he was doing.
Speaker 1: To get through to him, I repeated his name over
Speaker 1: and over to try and gam out of this habit.
Speaker 1: And then I finally heard it his voice. He was
Speaker 1: finally asking me why I was here. It was finally him,
Speaker 1: but before I could answer, he looked at me blankly,
Speaker 1: almost reading the intent in my eyes. He knew I
Speaker 1: wanted him to help me, well, perhaps not wanted needed.
Speaker 1: He murmured something under his breath by doing something again
Speaker 1: before turning his back to me. My eyes were fixed
Speaker 1: on what he was approaching. I could see a button
Speaker 1: within a painting on the wall next to him. With
Speaker 1: one click, he turns around to face me, with a
Speaker 1: smart quickly crawling across his face as the wall behind
Speaker 1: him lifts up to reveal what he has been working on,
Speaker 1: the recreation of his ship surrounding it, or weapons beyond
Speaker 1: anything I had seen before. I cannot begin to describe
Speaker 1: to you, old more, what exactly each thing did? I
Speaker 1: didn't know. With me speechless, Sahar says one final thing,
Speaker 1: not in his own voice, but also not in his dad's.
Speaker 1: I hear soul loose one last time, saying let's do this.
Speaker 1: So little time to talk, Old Sport, so little time
Speaker 1: before all goes down. I think I hate to admit
Speaker 1: how useful Sour is to me. I must tell you
Speaker 1: plainly now, Old Sport, that I have no plans to
Speaker 1: continue to be in contact with him after this mission.
Speaker 1: Certainly not when a theory, I will be free, if
Speaker 1: not free from the city, will free from the agency,
Speaker 1: and I will have my contacts back, my agency back.
Speaker 1: With failure back zare is certainly been keeping busy, Old Sport.
Speaker 1: She was a little silly to admit, But I really
Speaker 1: do think we might be able to do it. Defeat
Speaker 1: the agency, that is, defeat free it issolve whatever we
Speaker 1: end up doing. I just have this feeling, this underlying
Speaker 1: feeling that it will all be okay. It just comes
Speaker 1: with a feeling of moneyes though, because when if I
Speaker 1: ever felt like things were going to be okay in
Speaker 1: the city, it almost feels as though I am not
Speaker 1: in my own mind, almost like there is some kind
Speaker 1: of infiltrator in my thoughts. Maybe this is just just
Speaker 1: another typical side effect of being in the city, some
Speaker 1: kind of parasite that not only seemingly eats a weight
Speaker 1: your memories, but also manipulates them now too. But that
Speaker 1: is simply another thing just to worry about after the
Speaker 1: agency is destroyed. God, I stuff so much to do.
Speaker 1: What if I even say to Thalia when she's free, Oh,
Speaker 1: I should buy her hair dye, do your cure gesture.
Speaker 1: I think I can't wait to talk to her again, freely,
Speaker 1: No more scode, no late, no burial setting. I can
Speaker 1: say with confidence or sport that I still have plenty
Speaker 1: of original thoughts. Maybe it's a little embarrassing to admit,
Speaker 1: but I haven't stopped thinking about kissing her again. The
Speaker 1: idea of being with her, touching her, being close to
Speaker 1: her again, she got taken from me so quickly. I
Speaker 1: just the idea of us together, free from the agency,
Speaker 1: free to just work together and find a way out
Speaker 1: in peace. That's well, it just sounds too good to
Speaker 1: be true. It's funny to think that only one thing
Speaker 1: stands in the way of that reality, Just one thing,
Speaker 1: one establishment. Did I say funny? I I won't say
Speaker 1: that's funny at all. I must say my final piece
Speaker 1: to you February. Before whatever chaos, I will have to
Speaker 1: play cars in the coming days, if only I cannot
Speaker 1: be so dramatic. But I do not know another way
Speaker 1: of speaking, So I guess I will share a story,
Speaker 1: speak of something you may not even know yourself. February.
Speaker 1: There's this superstition that I hear throughout the city, and
Speaker 1: I believe it may just be like home to wherever
Speaker 1: home seems to be. That is middle pools lane, the streets, everywhere,
Speaker 1: street lanes abandoned phone polls ever since the cells went
Speaker 1: out of circulation. Street signs. It is said that if
Speaker 1: you're walking side by side, you must each never take
Speaker 1: to different sides of a pool. It is said that
Speaker 1: it cultivates you split the relationship a part and distance
Speaker 1: from each other. Did you know this, February. Did you
Speaker 1: know this when I would walk behind you to avoid
Speaker 1: the split? Did you know this when you did the same.
Speaker 1: Did you know this when you stopped? I don't know
Speaker 1: when February something switched. You stopped making the effort. You
Speaker 1: would show no sing of moving. Suddenly. I wasn't always
Speaker 1: able to fight the split either. I concluded for a
Speaker 1: while that this must be why you left. February. The
Speaker 1: universe was simply doing its part. It was simply doing
Speaker 1: what it was expected to do. It split us apart. No,
Speaker 1: but I knew, I thought, I understood that you let
Speaker 1: me hear for a reason. I never blamed you. Why
Speaker 1: now must I be searching for a reason to No?
Speaker 1: I think I understand. You always didn't know you were
Speaker 1: going to leave February. You just didn't want to hurt me.
Speaker 1: But that's impossible, because how could I not be upset?
Speaker 1: So you split the polls, You let the universe come
Speaker 1: between us in opposite fate would separate us before you did.
Speaker 1: You tried. You tried to make it better by making
Speaker 1: it worse. I understand now, for if I were not
Speaker 1: to love you anymore, you're leaving would hurt less right,
Speaker 1: But the universe did nothing. It's sat and wait, just
Speaker 1: as I always do, knowing that our relationship was split,
Speaker 1: just like the metal bol between us did, but not
Speaker 1: because of fate. Because you needed to leave, and that
Speaker 1: my heart cannot be split by a metable