<div>
<div>
11:52 AM | Ai Nua Clinic | June 10th | 1608 COVENANT
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
would kill you, one way or the other.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
very early, so you still have all of that time."
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
So that means the first symptoms I can expect will probably be behavioral. Impulse control, worsening judgement... Personality changes. Or on an off-chance, loss or change in my sense of smell and taste. One and then the other, regardless.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
did often result in slower progression of the disease, it would be optimistic to hope for anything more than, say, 20%. If I just told her I''d been in the field and asked to look at the sheet myself, it''d save a lot of time.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I''m going to die.
<div>
<div>
self. The paranoia, the confusion and distress, the ultimate apathy when there was finally nothing left.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
Fifteen years. That''s all I have left.
<div>
<div>
Fifteen years. Less than 10% of the time I''ve been alive.
<div>
<div>
that had been about twenty. It wasn''t enough time to start a new career, it was barely enough time for even a serious relationship. If I had a child now - god fucking forbid - they wouldn''t even be physically an adult by the time I was dead.
<div>
<div>
middle-aged. Death wasn''t something I should have even needed to worry about.
<div>
<div>
time. Even if I''d given up on changing or attaining the things I''d wanted, some part of me had believed there was still a chance that something could change, just as I''d held that blind optimism that I could adopted and whisked off to some dream life as a kid in the foster home. Sure, there no was visible trajectory now, but it could have happened! Those narratives were everywhere. People who''d been misfits their entire lives suddenly meeting the perfect person, or reaching some profound revelation that changed their whole view on the world, or, or...
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
was no moving forward; only a wall of hard, immutable stone that stretched to the very heavens. I only had two realistic choices: To spend my last few years in the same solitary quagmire of an existence here on Deshur, or else go back to my family and pretend that I was somehow okay with what was happening for their sake.
Oh, god. My family.
How will I even tell them about this?
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
fizzling out.
<div>
<div>
repulsed by the mess I was living in, and how much it reflected my complete failure to grow up, to ever have internally transformed into someone complete and mature. I felt ashamed of myself, overcome with the sense that I''d failed, utterly and completely, at something of the gravest importance. I wanted to smash it all with a bat. I wanted to set it on fire.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I''m going to die. In just a few years, I''m going to die.
<div>
<div>
This world will continue on, but for me, everything will be gone. Just nothingness. For a billion, billion, billion years. For eternity.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
Now that I think about it, I haven''t eaten or drunk anything since the appointment. Feels like I''m just piloting my own body from a control panel.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I''m going to die. I''m going to die. I''m going to disappear.
<div>
<div>
It''s not fair. There''s so much I haven''t done. So many ways in which everyone has left me behind.
<div>
It feels like I never even began my life properly at all.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
<div>
<div>
My true self, I... I never...
<div>
<div>
sad. I couldn''t stop feeling sorry for myself, for all the things I''d failed to do, failed to savor. I inhaled sharply, wanting desperately to be able to relax, just to feel normal enough to go home and get some sleep.
<div>
<div>
It''s okay.
<div>
<div>
It''s okay, Kuroka.
<div>
<div>
We did our best, didn''t we? We went to a lot of places and met a lot of interesting people. We even changed the world a little bit. We did all that together, just like you''d dreamed.
<div>
<div>
And now... we can finally stop. You don''t have to keep up a front for the sake of my family any more, nor for anybody else. It''s not your fault, and you no longer owe anything to anyone. You can rest. Atone.
<div>
<div>
It''s fine, isn''t it?
<div>
<div>
We''ll go out there, finally, to the edge of the Mimikos, like we talked about when we were kids. Well see what the world looks like there.
<div>
<div>
And then... We''ll disappear together.
<div>
<div>
I''ll be by your side until the very end.
<div>
<div>
It''ll be... alright, it''ll...
<div>
<div>
It''s ''not fair''? a more truthful voice, deep within me, said. Ridiculous. After all this time, how can you still be so conceited?
You had everything. Talent. Wealth. Love. Even people willing to overlook your acts of grotesque depravity and selfishness.
<div>
You stole this life and got away with it. With just a little willpower, you could have done anything you wanted. Been anything you wanted.
You just didn''t.
happened to me? So many times in the past I''d told myself that I longed for the day something like this would happen, and I could stop living for the sake of my family or for Shiko or for whatever stupid justification I was going with at any given moment. For the day I could finally face the long-overdue justice for what I''d done. But now that the fated hour had arrived, all that existential bravado had gone up in a puff of fucking smoke. When had it become fake? A shallow self-deception?
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I don''t want to die!
<div>
<div>
I''m so scared! I don''t want to die!
<div>
<div>
Someone help me... Help me! Please, save me!
<div>
<div>
to save me. No one in the world left who even really knew me at all.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
understood it. Why people would dedicate their entire life to a cause that was just delaying the inevitable, with a ultimate goal that was physically impossible.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I don''t want to die. I don''t want to die. I don''t want to die. I don''t want to die. No, no, no no no!
<div>
<div>
I need more time! If I could just have more time... Maybe, maybe...
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
itself was somehow wrong, perverted from its true shape.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
unhelpful words, that Neferuaten had left me with. Compared to the other part of her message - the code that didn''t even work, in case that slipped your mind - the meaning was pretty straightforward. ''Sanctuary'' obviously meant the Sanctuary of the Universal Panacea, and I''d only ever been to one entrance I could ''return'' to: The Empyrean Bastion women''s one. The implication was clear. I was supposed to go there, visit the place, and be set on the path to some secret piece of technology that would fix everything.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
worked.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>