Alma 93 The Pursuit of Freedom

Her first impression of him had not been the greatest, so to speak. It'd become a fond memory for her, one that she'd often tease him about after they'd become friends.

He had refused to introduce himself to everyone else, let alone even speak to them — ignoring them whenever he had the opportunity. The only people he'd ever actually respond to were the Elders themselves.

Fifty-eight — it was the number that'd been stitched on his shirt. That was the number that the Elders had given to him.

He was without a real name, much like they'd been when they first arrived.

A meaningless serial number, only befitting for…

An odd boy, that was what she had thought of him. He was unsociable and a bit standoffish, but not so hostile towards them that he'd cause trouble.

An automaton.

It was only when the Elders were present that he'd ever act properly. For them, he'd act like an angel and obediently nod his head like a puppy.

A cold, soulless machine.

He reminded her of a wind-up doll in that regard. He only ever came alive when his spring was wound up — when the Elders visited them.

It's like seeing a reflection of our former selves.

And once they left, he'd wind down and return to his old ways. He'd become a lifeless doll.

What we'd once been before we realized the truth.

The boy acted on his own as fought alone, learned alone and… lived alone, even though he was supposed to have been working beside his new peers.

An artificial creation designed to operate within a set of predefined parameters.

In his eyes, it was a sign of weakness to rely on others. He was a competitive individual who always strived to prove himself whenever he had the opportunity.

Eat. Fight. Learn. Sleep.

But slowly, over time, things changed for the boy. As the difficulty of the tests the group had to take rose, the harder it became for the newcomer to keep up.

Repeat. Obey. Repeat. Obey.

He'd begun to fail and as a result, had experienced what it felt like to go hungry. To feel the pangs of pain — the desperation induced by hunger — as he struggled against the impossible odds that the Elders had created for them in their tests.

Ignore the pain. Ignore the feelings in your chest. Ignore the hunger.

They'd become demons to the children if it meant that it'd push out all of their hidden potential.

Good children listen to their elders. Don't you want to be good child?

That was when she had made her decision… and when the boy would finally experience kindness for the first time.

He'd gone without food for days and could no longer persevere, even with his indomitable will to survive. His body and mind had finally reached their limits — he could go no further.

He had failed.

The Elders initially expected much from the boy but now, they had lost all confidence in him. Despite their best efforts, the newest prototype had failed to deliver the results they wanted.

"Most unfortunate. The prototype seemed so promising, too…"

He had not been as strong, swift or as intelligent as its fellow peers, who were seventh generation models. He, who was an eighth generation model, should have been superior to all of them but that had clearly not been the case.

"Tell the R&D chief that they're going to have to scrap the new batch he made. This one's no good to us."

"G-58 had failed to meet expectations. It's a failure. A reject."

"In the end, the seventh generation's still the most promising, stable series we've created, right?"

The order had been passed down to the chief lifeweaver in charge of the research and development department that the test prototype had failed.

"Yes, that seems to be the case. F-12, in particular, has shown incredible growth out of the seventh batch. She'd be perfect, if not for the rebellious, inquisitive attitude she has developed."

The R&D department had been ordered to destroy all remaining prototypes and to restart their work on creating a successful eighth generation model from scratch.

She, in the dead of the night, had given the boy the nutrient paste she had hidden away — an act of insubordination against the Elders.

The boy did not understand why she had done it. Why she had defied the Elders to help him. The rules were explicitly clear — he had not been permitted to eat — and yet, she had gone out of her way to feed him.

And it did not stop there — the next day, she had secretly helped him during a test, even though he had never asked her for help. Whenever he felt lost during a lesson, she'd appear to teach him and help him understand.

Slowly but surely, his scores rose and the number of times he'd failed tests shrank.

Her insistent meddling had never stopped since then, much to his confusion. It made him think about something that wasn't the Elders for once. Questions bubbled up in his mind and slowly accumulated until…

His curiosity got the best of him.

"Why do you defy the Elders? Why are you helping me?"

"Because I can, that's why. My name is Astrid, by the way. Not, you."

Astrid, she had called herself. He didn't understand. Why did she have a name? Who gave her that name? Did he have a name, too?

Her answer didn't make any sense to him, either. Because she could? What did she mean by that? None of it made sense and that troubled him.

Unbeknownst to him, he had already begun to walk away from the darkness of ignorance towards the light of knowledge. The fact that he'd become interested in something other than the Elders was more than enough proof of that.

Questions he'd never thought about before fell like raindrops upon the barren desert that had been the boy's mind and soon…

Life had begun to grow there. Across the desert, seedlings sprouted out of their tiny shells and basked in the downpour in delight.

He had questions and she had answers.

Day by day, he cared less about the Elders and more about everything else. He longed to see the blue, clear sky and the vast, open world outside. To feel what sunlight felt like; how the wind felt like…

The more he learned about the world — the longer he spoke to her — the harder it rained upon the desert until it had transformed into a lush, vibrant forest.

He had changed, opened himself up to the world and in return, the world had opened itself to him. That in itself came with many rewards, friendship being one of them.

Before he even realized it, he'd already become friends with the other children, seeking them out of his own will.

It was wonderful event that deserved to be celebrated — He'd grown out of his shell. The following day was when Astrid gave the boy a name to call his own, to his immense joy.

Sebastian. He was no longer a serial number, but a person.

He had been reborn, from a machine into a person who longed for freedom, same as his fellow brothers and sisters.

They, imprisoned, longed to be free. To escape their confinement and roam the vast world outside.

That was their truth. Their reason for living and the grand dream they had all shared together.

They would not rest until it came true and would fight against the odds , no matter how small it seemed. The Elders and their tests were nothing but an obstacle to them, one that they'd surely overcome in time.

Of course, it was not meant to be. The Elders had long since been observing them and understood what they wanted, why they struggled so hard.

It was hope and love that kept them alive and gave them purpose — something they could easily exploit to keep them obedient.

And thus, the reject would be removed from the group.

The Elders noticed that the girl had grown quite fond of the reject and for them, that was enough. They'd move the useless one and use him as a tool to keep the others in check.

Teach them what love and hope really were — human weaknesses. Make them shackles that they'd never be able to escape. So as long as they kept the reject alive, the children would be forced to obey.

It was a win-win situation for them, either way.

Either they'd obey orders to keep the reject alive, or give up on him and destroy their petty feelings about compassion and love.

They would return to being things, or live the rest of their lives as humans… and slaves to their petty emotions. Either way, they would now obey or suffer. 

She remembered when it happened. Waking up, only to find that he had disappeared. That was when she knew that the Elders had done it.

Broke the last straw.

She did not know when or how but one day, she'd make them pay. That was a promise she'd made to Sebastian the day of his disappearance.

Six long and painful years passed. She had lost much but had endured.

That was when she finally met him again. He had grown up splendidly, but she couldn't look at him out of shame.

She had failed to protect the others. They'd been unable to keep up with the tests and had all died off until.... she'd been left all alone.

Now there were only two of them.

All she had wanted to do was be free with her family, but fate had written decided that she'd become a contender instead and walk the path of the chosen.

Of course, Astrid knew that she'd be forced to serve the family, demi-goddess or not. If she didn't, they'd threaten her with the only thing she still had left.

But then, a miracle happened. She saw it — witnessed it in secret.

They'd been assigned to spy on a boy who was supposed to have been incredibly talented.

He was a troubled fellow, who always seemed to hide his real feelings behind a mask of composure.

…At least when he wasn't acting like a frightened mouse.

Even so, she felt strange when she spoke to him. It felt as if she was talking to her own siblings — that was the feeling he gave her. Like she was speaking to someone who'd also been oppressed, threatened, and considered less than a human.

She'd seen through the smoke and mirrors he'd put up.

He was the same as her. She could see it in his eyes.

That was when she'd started feeding false information to the family about him. She'd never sell him out, same as she'd never sell out Sebastian.

She'd even told Sebastian to follow her lead and lie to the Elders. They wouldn't forsake their own kin to their oppressors. It stood against everything they believed in.

In time, she'd even come to feel… a certain way about the odd boy who called himself Reed. He was an enigma who always surprised everyone, but she knew him to be more than a talented individual.

The way he'd talk about the world — full of curiosity and wonder for it, eager to explore it. It sounded as if he'd never seen what the world really looked liked outside, much like her…

Listening to him had sparked an old flame in heart and an even deeper interest in him, unbeknown to her…

She'd also witnessed something that no one else had seen in secret. Something that had convinced her that he, one day, might be able to save her and Sebastian.

She'd seen it — seen him fighting that monstrosity outside in the shadowlands, during their final exam.

Seen him singlehandedly destroy the towering abomination by himself in a matter of minutes. Brilliant rays of light and raging flames destroying Infested as he charged into fray.

He'd be able do it, without a doubt. Talented can't even begin to describe him. Given enough time, he'll become an invincible figure.

Her patience had paid off in spades. She'd found her golden ticket — no, something even more precious than that…

All he needed was time to grow and develop. Time she'd planned to give him, but now…

It was too late.

She didn't know where she'd gone wrong. Where she'd failed or how they figured out she was lying to them. It didn't make sense.

Deep in the bowels of hell, she waited for her death in denial.

A part of her already knew what the answer probably was but she wouldn't accept it.

Not until she heard it from his own mouth.

She'd wait as long as it'd take.

She had all the time in the world… in hell.

Chapter end