Author's Note: Right, I don't really do this a whole lot, but I feel strongly compelled to.
Personally, I feel like Project Moon as a setting is a massive content warning in and of itself, just look at the Limbus Company Official PV and the wall of warnings on the very start. That said, as I wrote out the chapter it was clear it was going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable than it has been until now, so I actually see the need to put a warning.
So with that being said:
Content Warning: self-harm, suicide. Reader discretion is advised.
Angela saw their newest Abnormality and felt nothing. It was not the first time it had been in the facility, nor would it be the last one.
Slowly, blood dripped down the hand and into the tub. On and on, the red liquid pooled into the water, but no matter how much of it fell, it didn't seem like it would stop.
T-05-51. Bloodbath.
It was an Abnormality she'd seen enough times to think nothing of it. All she felt was a silent antipathy whenever it appeared, as it always did.
But this time, there was a sense of unease she hadn't experienced before. At her side the manager just sat there. Not moving the cameras, not making any small talk with his employees, not complaining, not sighing.
He just stared at the Abnormality with a genuinely blank expression.
In prior times, X would sometimes steal glances at the tub, reaching towards it without really noticing, but otherwise not doing anything else and just moving on. When the memory synchronization was complete and it was Ayin looking upon it, he would avert his gaze and let out a pained breath. It was a fairly static Abnormality and didn't have to deal with it most of the time, he had more dangerous ones to contend with at that point anyways.
But right now, he was looking at it, unflinching, his gaze centered upon it and looking at it in rapt attention.
Each second that passed, a drop of blood landed on the waters within the tub. Each second was stretched out to one minute and forty seconds to her. Every last one of them was one he spent looking upon the Abnormality.
Drop by drop. Time passed, stretching on in a way that seemed almost infinite to her, as some unseen tension seemed to build up.
Three hundred drops. Five minutes to him. To her, thirty hundred seconds, or eight hours and twenty minutes.
Such a time passed before he even began showing some kind of sign that he would do anything, and the first thing he did was to ask a single question.
"What are Abnormalities, really?"
She did not answer. It was not something for him to know at the time, yet it also felt like he wasn't asking her.
She just remained quiet as the blood continued to drip down onto the tub. He didn't turn to look at her and he didn't do anything other than stare.
As the workday neared its start, he finally tore his eyes from it, but his demeanor for the rest of it was quiet. Even as a disaster struck, his voice did not have the heat it did prior.
Angela would have usually appreciated the silence. All she felt was a deep disquiet and a feeling that something might happen.
Angela stalked the halls of the facility, going through the most secure service areas and out of the way parts of it; the true periphery that only a few employees were aware of. The virtual hour was two in the morning and she had a job to do. The script demanded her to be present at just the right spot at just the right time, to interrupt the Manager's next conversation with 'B', followed by killing him and sending him to the Records Team to become its Sephirah.
It was ever the unpleasant thing to have to do that. Not killing Benjamin, of course. She would not shed a tear for the one person that she considered a friend, not only because she had no way to shed them, but also because she had done it enough times that the motion of firing a gun or planting a knife right through his chest or even just choking the life out of him was as natural as any other thing.
No, what was most discomforting, the one unpleasant aspect of the whole affair which she felt she'd never get used to... was the disconnection between her and the rest of the facility. The Architecture Team had created a perfect 'hole for the rat to hide in', a place ostensibly outside of her reach, where Benjamin would invariably go when he needed to speak to X. Her connection to the systems of the facility, save for the most vital, would start to become more and more spotty, until she was cut off completely from them and only regain them when she entered the room where the man lay in hiding.
She was not in control of anything. Not truly, but being able to lock every door, to gaze out of every camera, listen through every microphone, hidden or otherwise, did at least feel like she had some kind of influence, lacking as it might have been in truth. Having those senses fail her was deeply disorienting, even though she could deal with it.
Just as she squeezed through a small gap between a wall and an enkephalin gap, she detected movement of some kind, an elevator moving at that hour anyone would consider ungodly. It took her far, far too long to finally get a video feed, and if not for her sense of balance, she would have stumbled.
It was the manager, descending down into the facility. Angrily, she sent the order for the elevator to stop. If he wanted to be a fool, then he could sleep in the elevator, for all she cared.
She waited with the seconds dragging on as always… and only realized too late that the signal had failed to be received and she hadn't actually managed to impede him. She wanted to try once more, but the man was already stepping out.
Where even was he going? The dormitories? Was he so much of an absolute idiot that he'd go bother the employees at this hour?
That was wishful thinking. She knew it was wishful thinking as he began heading towards the Safety Team
She was furious and had half a mind to go back the way she came from, but she couldn't. The script measured her schedule obsessively in regards to this one event and all other permutations of it. She did not have time to get to the room where Benjamin would begin his conversation, and she did not have the time to return. She had to keep going and be in one very specific point.
Angela bit down a sound of immense exasperation and anger. Why now, of all times? If he died then he'd probably be broken by the method. Or maybe she'd get a fresh new X; that could be an improvement, she thought, but it was not a gamble she'd take.
Her options were limited. She could try to lock the doors, she had been trying to at least, but it seemed as though it was to no avail. She couldn't send the signal too many times, either, or else she could end up shorting them.
What could she do to stop him?
There was…one option. It was not one she had any hope in, but it was the only one she realistically had. With her awful reception, still sent the message, worded just so and with an applied external stimulus to stir him on. Looking through the camera of the particular room, she managed to confirm its arrival, even though it felt like it was doing so too late. She didn't have a choice one way or the other, it was that or simply letting things run their course.
If nothing else, she could count on the manager's enmity with Netzach to get him to move away from the Bloodbath. Failing that, Netzach could perhaps end up caught by the Abnormality, which would return them to the first day, but it was preferable to the alternative.
Alphonse walked through the halls of the Department. He was not trying to be particularly stealthy, but it felt as though every sound he made was muted, even the usually loud opening and closing of doors. Or perhaps he just couldn't hear it. It all seemed so faded out, since yesterday morning. It was like it'd all been cut apart from what the world was.
There was a hole.
There was a hole within him, and he'd only really perceived it when he talked with Benjamin… and that morning, when he saw the tub. He could not tear his eyes from it, no matter how hard he tried, the second he did, he felt an ache inside him that threatened to tear him apart.
What are Abnormalities? He'd asked that question even as a disturbing sense of familiarity had washed over him when he looked at the bathtub, as blood dripped from the hand playing the part of shower head.
He stood outside of the containment unit, his breathing turning labored as he looked upon the bottom of the door. He had stared at the Abnormality from the cameras, and yet looking at it from the window seemed impossible, his body locked up and simply refused to do so.
Alphonse closed his eyes, failing to keep his breathing under control.
Desperately, I yanked on the doorknob. The door wouldn't budge, no matter how I turned it. I pushed, pulled and tried to force it open however I could.
I had the keys. They had been in my hand all along, and I didn't use them. I just kept trying to open the door as though I had been possessed. The truth was…I didn't want to open it, even though I felt like I was on the verge of going insane. I already knew what transpired there, I just didn't want to face it.
The lock broke first, letting me inside and allowing me to be the next one to crack open.
"'Sup."
The familiar voice suddenly snapped him out of the moment, turning slightly, he saw the vague outline of Netzach
"What do you want?" He asked brusquely.
"Just got chewed out and told to fetch you." The Sephirah replied with a snide scoff.
He didn't reply, and so there was only silence between the two of them, at least for a while. It was followed by the green haired man looking at the door and shaking his head.
"You wanted to go inside?"
Taking a deep breath, he nodded.
"A'ight."
With a clicking sound, it slid open. His head was tilted too low to really see what was inside
"Go nuts. Might be fun for you." Netzach replied. He wasn't looking, so he couldn't even tell what expression he'd put on. "Who knows, maybe she'll finally go ahead and get rid of me permanently. It's too much for her to ignore, after all."
He didn't reply, simply stepping inside the room.
I saw her there, the water was dyed red and her labcoat was full of blood. She laid there, motionless, with one hand inside the waters, and the other hanging limply out of the bathtub, I saw the crimson droplets trail along her fingertips before they fell onto the floor, slowly moving towards the drain. I knew it in that moment, her slowing breaths, along with the pattering of her life slipping out of her…those were the sounds which would follow me to Hell.
I knew our work was not one where she had any need for a utility knife. I knew that she would usually just adjust the thermostat regardless of what anyone thought, rather than bundle up with long-sleeved clothes. I knew that I should say something, after everything that happened, that I should close the distance instead of retreat inwards.
I knew it all, so why was I such a goddamn fool? Why didn't I do anything sooner?
I drew closer to the bathtub, so shocked that I couldn't so much as do anything else. I looked at her, in that awful state, I tried to look at her face and I-
I didn't have the right. Her face was lost to me, the expression she wore, then and even before, was something that I did not deserve to remember. Not after that.
My own wrists ached as I saw her there. I couldn't possibly imagine what it was like, to cut yourself open like that, the sort of willpower needed to simply tear into yourself. There was a built-in aversion in humans against such grievous self-harm, yet she had managed to cut herself all the way through.
She truly…genuinely wanted to die.
Alphonse stared at the surface of the bloody water. Even in the darkness, he could see a murky reflection.
He felt…the weight of his stay in this place, the deaths he could do nothing about, the despair everyone surely felt.
Maybe it was only natural, wanting to die when everything was so miserable. Maybe Netzach had the right idea, he had nothing to look forward to. Any plans, dreams or aspirations would just get shoved to the wayside. If he left and found his way into the City, what would await him? Lobotomy Corporation was not unique, people far more powerful and influential than him would keep everyone down, no one would do anything to change anything because that's always just been the way things were... and that was the end of that.
Life was just going to be miserable no matter what he did. He had nothing and couldn't scrounge up anything of worth either. It wasn't even going to be some kind of epic struggle or anything. He'd likely just die like a dog on the roadside. He would be done in by the most normal thing, happening to him for the most banal of reasons. He wouldn't even be able to make ends meet and just drop dead one day.
No one would help him. No one even cared about him.
He belatedly realized that a pair of pale hands had stretched out of the water, stretching out and reaching behind him. One was around the small of his back while the other was entangling itself around his shoulderblade and his neck.
Alphonse took a deep breath.
"No."
He pushed against the arm reaching higher up. He wasn't even forceful, it was just a light push, but the hand let go. Even the lower one seemed to give up, slinking back into the waters.
As the arm he pushed aside began to retreat, it cupped his cheek, a gentle touch that made him shiver slightly, but Alphonse just grabbed the hand with his own. Even through the bandages, he could feel they were cold as chilled champagne.
Slowly, the hand descended, briefly linking its fingers with his own as it pulled, weakly.
He just let out a sigh.
"No."
The hand seemed to accept the answer, letting go of him. Part of him desperately wished to reach out for the hand again as it broke contact, perhaps even to give a pull of his own.
But it was too late, as the hand sank into the overwhelming despair that had settled at the bottom of the tub.
He stood there for a good while staring at the bloody water. His wrist ached, and so did the hole inside him.
After what felt like too long, he turned around and left the containment unit. Netzach was there, but he didn't look at him. He just leaned back against the wall, putting his hands in his pockets.
"What stopped you?" Netzach asked, slowly imitating him as he brought a bottle closer to his mouth. "Thought you were thinking about it, the way you longingly stared at the containment unit."
Just before he could take a swig, Alphonse snatched the bottle and put it to his mouth. A moment after he spat out what he'd put in his mouth and coughed a couple times as he doubled over.
"Ewgh, this sh*t's rancid, what the f*ck's wrong with you?" He said as he passed the drink back to Netzach.
Truthfully, he didn't know if it was rancid or not. He just didn't have a taste for alcohol other than some genuinely mild things that he'd get laughed at if he ordered them for a drink.
Netzach grumbled even as he took back his bottle and drank without reservation, only stopping after a couple audible gulps.
"You ever just think about offing yourself? Really mulled over it in your head?"
Netzach asked again. Of course he didn't say the same thing, but he knew the intent was the same anyway.
"Fair few times since I came here." Alphonse admitted as he put his back against the wall again, then shook his head. "It's behind me."
"Is it really?" Netzach asked, glancing at him. He didn't answer, and so Netzach just scoffed. "I'm jealous. Of you and all the employees. If you go for it, you can just commit suicide. The end. Curtain call. Roll credits. If anyone has any complaints about it, then they can shove it. What are they gonna do? Complain at your corpses?"
Netzach took a swig, letting the bottle make a pop as it left his lips.
"I don't even get that." The Sephirah remarked bitterly. "Sure, maybe I can just…get crushed into scrap by an Abnormality. That'd be fun. I wouldn't have to deal with all of this responsibility being placed on my shoulders for a while if I did. But I'm a machine, an AI. If I die, then there's always a backup."
Netzach looked at him, frustration showing plainly on his face. "It'll never end for me. It's why I can't stand looking at how you seem to keep on pushing through the pain. It's not behind you. Why are you digging in your heels? What's keeping you here?"
Alphonse thought about it. The answer came to him immediately, but he did not say it. He could not, unless he could answer the follow up.
He couldn't, not in any satisfying way. He did not have his Eureka moment. He did not arrive at a revelation that recontextualized everything and made clear the strength of his convictions.
But he had not even come across it when he was being pulled into the bloody waters either, and even then…even though that was the case, it was answer enough.
"Nothing."
Netzach angrily asked what he knew would come next.
"Nothing? Then why are you even here? Why haven't you gone through with it?"
Kicking off the wall and letting out a sigh. Alphonse answered.
"I don't want to die."
"That's it?" Netzach clammored. "That's all? That's your big thing? Just being too afraid?" Netzach also got off the wall, stomping on the ground as he did. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you about this…"
"No. I'm terrified of living too." Alphonse said, not seeing as Netzach turned to face him. "I don't want my life to be miserable either, and I hate knowing that it probably will be. But even still… even though it's always going to be full of pain, I think I want to live, in spite of that."
Netzach only stared at Alphonse's back as he left the room.
It took him a while to get back to his personal quarters, but he did so feeling like an entirely different person. The encounters and the visions he'd had were entirely sobering in ways he couldn't even imagine
Alphonse put a hand against his face then felt something trailing down his arm.
Blood. More bandages than before seemed to be covering his wounds, and blood seeped out of them freely, in a small, constant drip. In his mind it was clear what had happened. He could only accept it as a fact and, although perturbing, it was something which…he would have to live on with. An indelible stigma that he would bear, not proudly and not shamefully… but simply as a mark of what had transpired.
The open wound on his arm which wouldn't heal, the E.G.O gift he obtained, simply… was.
Throughout the entire night, as blood poured out endlessly, yet without causing him any true harm, his wrist ached.
