Dreams as humans experienced them were a foreign concept to LUCAS. Flexible and tenuous memories that warp and distort by the subconscious to graft over the unconscious. LUCAS has wondered what that feeling of giving up control to a deeper, yet darker version of yourself felt like. He hasn't had much experience sleeping, but sitting there, he knew that his version of falling asleep would be a lot like dying for humans. Dying and then miraculously being revived after a predetermined period of time.
Except, there was nothing miraculous about what happened here. It all ran according to an algorithm that was constantly running in his mind. He could push it to the background, sure, but he could never fully ignore the numbers constantly running through his thoughts. He was almost jealous of others and their ability to just...exist in quiet.
LUCAS didn't dream...at least, not in the way humans did. He didn't fully shut off—he was sure he wouldn't be able to turn himself back on unless someone who really knew what they were doing opened up his skull and sent the right startup commands. No, he opted to leave just enough of himself awake to respond to an emergency. The rest of his energy was spent simulating fond memories of Abel and Cain as children.
Seeing the two boys smile made him wish he could insert himself into the fantasy. Sure enough, he could imagine what it would be like, but the knowledge of its inherent false nature is just enough of a block from full investment into the simulation. It was a piece of him he wish he could turn off—LUCAS was awful at pretending. If not, then he thought he could dawdle in his 'dreams' forever.
His second sight shifted to the scene of the Roulette Game. It was a terribly cold encampment that now sat at the bottom of the ocean, but his thoughts shifted to where the survivors of the game were now.
Aria Fleur was a crafty one—presenting herself as demure and like she couldn't hurt a fly, when in truth she acted as a contract killer for the underbelly of society. She had the highest chances of being active out in the world now, although exactly where...he had nary a clue. She was french, so it's possible she returned to where France would have been in the new world, but as to what she would find there...it was impossible to say. Abel hadn't left the SubCon facility since entering it in this, his final cycle. He had no knowledge of the world outside, so it would stand to reason LUCAS wouldn't either.
That didn't explain how he could have knowledge of the fragments of ICARUS, but that'd have to be a topic he thought on later.
His thoughts then moved to Simon Nagatomi. Simon was always...complex. When viewing his memories of the cycles in a vacuum, it was easy to simply judge him an asshole with a massive chip on his shoulder. A murderer, a liar, a cheat. All names that did apply to the man with the raven hair.
And yet, he was equal parts victim. A martyr, a hero, a fool. The others he played the Roulette Game with would not be able to understand the full circumstances behind his actions—Abel tried his hardest to empathize, yet even he didn't know the full brunt of what Simon had gone through, and had been going through. When he was just on the cusp of it, his own life in that same cycle had ended, terribly.
LUCAS understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. He couldn't imagine being in Simon's shoes and not eventually getting to that same point of desperation for anything different. Simon was Japanese, but if he were to be honest with himself he couldn't see Simon returning unless he needed to. Too much of what brought the worst parts of his life out came from his homeland. Now that he was free from the confines of the game, it could be possible to appeal to the side of him that once desired justice. The side of him that vowed to stand up to people like his father. He wasn't sure how the effects of the game would have on him, though. He could just as easily be absolutely broken from it.
Next his thoughts went to Sophie. She was quite the mysterious player, but like Simon, getting to see the records of all the players' pasts and repeated actions through the cycles, he understood her reasons for being so guarded. He also felt...a growing complicated feeling deep inside him—he was sure it was a remnant of when he believed he was Abel, but he had a deeper compassion for Sophie. He knew that Abel had liked her—liked her in the way that Cain became furious over.
He was still so young during the events of the game—LUCAS was sure he hadn't the emotional intelligence to navigate his feelings properly. Either way, Sophie had a self preservation about her that would kick in no matter what she felt or if she returned feelings or not. It was hardwired into her brain from years of relying on herself for everything else. She was strong, but weak in the same way. She had the highest chance of succumbing to the new world—at least the ones that had escaped.
This of course excluded Levi and Ai Nagatomi. X factors for wildly different reasons. Levi had been a golem—a prototype autonomous unit that LUCAS assumed eventually inspired Abel to create his own form. In a sense, the legacy of Levi Strauss—the real Levi had probably long since been dead in Steinschild—had lived on through his every footstep in this new world.
And then there was Ai. The one who orchestrated the game itself—the false identity taken by the terrible, terrible Sakonna. She was the youngest of the Children of the Night—those who yearn to return to the dark world called Noctem from where they originate. Creatures with ghastly visage and almost as ghastly intelligence planning to eradicate the land of the light—the land that each and every soul on this planet called home. His...home.
If it were just that, he would consider their acts simply unforgivable. He would be opposed to their goals and that would be that. But it wasn't just that—life never was just morals versus the state. He had experienced firsthand the result of the Roulette Game—each life that it had touched, poisoned, corrupted, and ended. Just one cycle would be enough for a lifelong vendetta to make sure that their goals are never achieved...but he saw them again, and again, and again. Hundreds of lives ended, betrayed, lost, loved, and all so they could escape into the night with the energy they collected.
It was this pain—this collective horror that had been enacted on people that did not deserve it—that was what set LUCAS on the path to ensure that not only their goals never came to fruition, but that the life of every single creature that allied themselves even remotely with this group would see their final breaths by his hands. Then, and only then would he feel like he could shut his systems down, permanently. Only when this world could begin to heal and those that had been wronged could find peace knowing that their suffering has been paid back kindly in full.
And yet, his thoughts floated from Sakonna to the man who hung around in some of the visions. The man with the all-white persona and the completely blank eyes. LUCAS knew this was the same man that had been written about in The Eye of Timaeus—the craftsman. He was also sure that this same craftsman was the same beggar that initially introduced Timaeus to the great library—Z-One.
The events of the past swirled around his mind in a vicious cyclone of beginning, end, repeat, beginning, end, repeat. He didn't even have a solid answer on how long he had been observing these events. When did...I begin? When cycles began to repeat through alternate histories and my memories persist through each of them, now that the multiverse had been collapsed into one...
He froze. Just...how had he known that the multiverse had collapsed? Something inside him just...knew. He checked the algorithm to confirm the logic—see if he could backtrace where it had come from...but he could find nothing. There was no evidence in his system that he ever learned that the universe they now existed in was the last remaining, but he did. They were fully...alone.
Somewhere, in the darkness of the deepest parts of his mind he felt...a changing force. Something important somewhere had changed...a choice was made. It infuriated him that the details were so scarce. Missing information was the greatest personal injustice. He sensed a faint power not unlike the force he feels emitting from the Kosunaga building. Perhaps it could be another fragment of ICARUS? He thought it probably best to hold off on talking to Gavin about it. This new world was dangerous, and while he sensed things were up and up with what Gavin has said so far, he thought it probably best he kept some cards close to his chest for now.
LUCAS sensed increased movement just outside, and so he let the simulations come to an end and his eyes propped open. He sensed Gavin and a new face approaching quickly. He heard laughter and the rough voice tones of Roshe laughing along with something.
LUCAS sat up and mimicked a motion he stole from Abel—cracking his neck at both sides to relieve tension. It wasn't the same kind of tension that Abel would have had, but it came close enough. The joint in his neck squeaked and it sent pain shooting up his innards. In all honesty, he could probably fix up the loose joint himself, but the information on his own system was scarily sparse.
I wonder...was that on purpose? What kind...of purpose would that be for? The thought concerned him greatly. If he didn't know, just how could he expect anyone else to?
He didn't know if anything else would bust if he had miscalculated the repair. If he messed anything up and was unable to carry out his mission—no, that was out of the question. He could deal with a little discomfort. At least, until it grew into a much larger problem. Then, he would deal with it.
That, he supposed, he stole from Cain.