"Because... I was born into this world."
Why did those words entice him even now?
What did they mean? How did they come from a human like him and not a demon?
An apple soared into the air. But before it could fall, it was caught by the same hand which threw it. He tore a bite out the side, chewing the remnants sliding within his mouth. His body jolted, and now he was seated upright in bed. Did something call him or was that motion of his own free will?
Nevertheless, whether it was one or the other, he reached the window, and the edge bordering it. Shuffling into the verge so he could sit against it, he sighed. Caught in awe at the scenery of the night sky in tandem with Retly's mechanical city, the Jester's mind turned blank. Nothing more—nothing less than this sight competently mesmerizing him. He continued to ponder. Not further about the Founder's being, but about the truth laid before him.
'I still remember what happened back then.'
Twelve years ago, when Retly was less of a place and more of a people, there floated the Jester's lifeless body, drenched in a baby blue liquid.
Shining the same light onto Japanese scientists' faces, they watched in awe at the naked vessel continue to hover.
Then, Icarus's eye opened, revealing his pupil's blackness. And what more could they do but gasp in terror at the sight of their conscious creation?
'The first thing I vividly remember is my parents' frightened faces. Maybe they didn't think their experiment would work, so that's why they looked that way, but it didn't matter. No matter the logic behind that look infecting their faces, their eyes held the same thing that my soul was given since birth. Hatred.'
Time went on. As it accelerated, Icarus was granted several tasks to complete. As expected, he accomplished every one of them with unprecedented accuracy. In time, as he was bred to become the leader of the New World Retly planned to orchestrate, he would be granted 'freedom.' And so, he was set out into what was the outside world, to see what the average person was like. To see what 'normal people' were like.
'I observed what humans lived like. I was given basic restrictions. No antagonistic behavior. Besides that, breaching privacy and anything else apparently deemed 'sublime' by Retly was extendable. I saw how humans acted. From the way, the sexes mated to their daily commutes to school or work. Humans are good people. Humans are bad people. Needless to say, they were intriguing, they were neither one nor the other. Well, besides one group of people.'
While being escorted off a rooftop in the past, the Jester spontaneously stopped. The guards holding those rifles seemed puzzled despite their shaded eyes. They inched closer after sharing a collective nod and with their firearms' safety clicked off. But we all know how this ends, right?
In the future they saw for themselves, the guards were horrified at the probability of their collective demises. And when they looked into the Jester's lifeless dark eyes, there it was incarnated. An uncaring expression like that one could never become humanity's light for hope. Their fingers on the triggers--they readied to shoot, but what stopped them? Was it that nightmarish face he made or was it those tendrils slipping out his bones, penetrating their faces to splatter brainy bits onto the rooftop below?
'Retly. From the moment I opened my eyes the second I was born, there were those faces. They never showed me the tiniest smile, even a glimmer of laughter. I'd always accepted that because that was the way things were. But, what I experienced WASN'T 'normal.' Specifically picking every human out of the plentiful crowd of beings I watched, their cruelty didn't rival that of Retly's. So, I cleansed the world and killed those bad people.'
Surrounded by those chopped apart corpses, some heads split apart, some heads caved open to reveal brainy chunks, Icarus yanked a sword from a scientist's back. Blood dirtied his cuticles with the stench of exposed innards leaking all around the gory crime scene. But even so, with such an exorbitant amount of death surrounding his naked feet, for the first time in his life, Icarus smiled.
'I feel as though what I did was right, never mind whatever anyone else believed. What lay bare in the world beyond the confining walls of those facilities were 'good people'. And I was one of the many who were granted 'bad people' to surround me. I wonder, if I was given a proper home, maybe everything things could've turned out differently. But that hope is squashed at the realization of unavoidable despair. When I mercilessly butchered Retly's scientists, I didn't feel disgusted at that unforgettable scene. More than anything, at that moment, I loved it!'
Icarus overtook Retly's scientists, prompting turning them to his command. Thereafter, he learned of the secret Capital Retly was building, and moved a select few believers to live in that city once it was complete. Humans still interested him and the fact that some of them worshipped him once he exposed his lineage to them assuredly didn't help. He wanted to learn more. His curiosity and unexplainable hatred led him to kneel before Riverton's Founder sometime during 2019.
'That's the way things unassuredly occurred. I hate everyone and I hate everything. If Retly was capable of that, then humans were capable of so much worse than I thought. But I didn't lament. Instead, my hatred left me intrigued. What was the extent of human cruelty, potential, and pain? My curiosity led me to the Founder, Wilder, and Smith. Even still, my curiosity remains piqued. Inside Moon, the Daughter of the Crow, there exists a 'goddess' within! The Source of Death, legend carried through the invisible waters of the transcending Seas of Time, is said to carry power equivalent or higher than that of fully unleashed Requiem potential! If the ancient tale is true, that power was not inherited amongst her multiple traits and strength. It was birthed from human nature. Only after I dissect that woman limb from limb will I truly be able to enact the final evolution of the human race. That is my birthright--that is my justice.'
While Icarus was debating his past, present, and future, the Founder walked through the streets of Retly. Many Retlyian citizens passed by his strutting figure, some waving at him, others thanking him.
Callum reached his destination in due time, entering a rooftop after opening a door. Dangling his feet off the edge, stars in his eye, a marveled expression smeared over his plentiful scars. To think such a place like Retly could exist beyond the desert's prohibiting mountains--how ignorant was he and for how long?
'I set aside my pride and now I bear the weight of my guilt. If you wish hell unto me, you need not worry. The life I lead now is more torturous than any divine retribution God could give me. But, this is the path I chose. All I can do now is give it all I've got. If you want to kill me, then kill me. If that's your justice, this is mine. And at least I'd have died... without regrets.'
Was he the one who said that? Was it not just a dream he fabricated, back when he left the Blade drawing blood as it touched his throat? Well, that question was irrelevant. After all, he couldn't ask it like he didn't know the answer when the truth was already laid out before him. He lied to Katie. But she took his words to heart for some reason. The influence he had on others' lives, how long had he been blind to how his actions affected individuals?
He shook his head. He wasn't ignorant, that was what he decided, right? Back then, he turned the world upside down, obliterating everything in sight. The Founder sighed, revealing another cigarette out his coat's pocket. After lighting the butt with a lone flame sticking out the device's peak, he exhaled the sucked-in smoke.
'I'm the same as I've always been. Whether or not I had to lie to righteous people never made a difference. I want to… create a better world for worthy people. And more than that, I want to live a long life—with the people I love.'
Whatever ends he had to enact to achieve those means were insignificant. He turned his head away from the scenery before him, another inhalation quickly following. Dropping the cigarette from between gloved fingers, his boot's stole diminished the heat and crushed the stick, effectively crumbling it. Hands in his pocket, his body turned, and now he walked away.
Underneath the plentiful stars that sparkled endlessly, he continued to walk down that street. Her unforgettable expression abruptly resurfaced: Katie Moon. Death's Source…
'Am I going to have to see her again?'
To Be Continued.