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Title: your eyes close as I fall asleep
Fandom: Phantasy Star Online 2
Characters: Casra, Luther; Luther/Casra
Rating: M
Words: 1,828
Summary: On the anniversary of the sealing of the Profound Darkness, a despondent Luther reveals his plans for Casra's future. Casra bears this revelation as best he can.
Notes: Takes place during EP2, after Casra's made his pact with Quna.
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
- from Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda
Luther swirled the wine in his glass. “It’s quite the anniversary today. Not that you or any ARKS would know of it.” He lifted his gaze to meet Casra’s, and Casra caught the faint red flush of too much drink splashed across Luther’s cheeks. “Would you care to learn?”
Casra did not care, but he’d learned long ago it was best not to refuse Luther. Moreover, there was always the chance that Luther would let some genuinely useful information slip, something that Casra might store away and hone into a weapon that he could use to stop Luther’s takeover. “Of course.”
Luther smiled. “I thought you might.” He took another sip of wine. “Today is when I became the last Photoner.”
It wasn’t the first time Luther had mentioned that he was the last, but the exact date was new. “It must be a difficult time for you.”
“Hmmm.” Luther’s eyes were on the wine glass again, peering into it as if it held all the world’s secrets. “In fact it’s no better or worse than any other day. There’s not much purpose in observing the literal date on which all was lost, is there? But on occasion, I am compelled to remember.”
Casra held his silence. Luther was the sort who loved the sound of his own voice, especially when he thought he had a captive audience; it was best to let Luther fill the space between them with his own words.
“The end is in sight, after all. It’s only a matter of time until ARKS falls and the Mothership is mine, and then–”
I’ll fix this broken organization, Casra finished, and bit back a sigh. He’d heard this speech many times before–it was Luther’s standard spiel of luring Void researchers to his side. Why he felt the need to remind Casra of this was beyond him, unless Luther had caught wind of his rebellious heart…
“--I will know everything. Nothing will be beyond my understanding, but that is what worries me the most.”
“You? Worried about knowing too much?” Casra looked at Luther in disbelief. The Photoner brought the wine glass to his lips, taking a brief sip. His next words passed through blood-red lips.
“Imagine, dear Casra, if you could see the entirety of your future. No, not only your future–but the future of all things, able to calculate the infinite possibilities and determine their ends. You know which actions will lead to destruction, and which will lead to utopia. What path, then, would you choose?”
A wave of bitterness washed over Casra. His own fate was sealed, and Luther never failed to remind him of that. Asking him to imagine otherwise struck Casra as a particularly cruel joke.
“I’m not one for rhetorical questions, Luther,” Casra said frostily, but Luther continued as though Casra hadn’t spoken. Not that Casra had expected anything different; Luther simply needed an audience for his monologue.
“Xion chose destruction, that I know for certain. But the why is what eludes me.” Luther rolled the glass stem with his fingers, the wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “I have spent an eternity pondering the answer to this, and I am no closer now than I was the day I first begged Xion for an answer. But soon, I will have her--and every thought, every emotion that she has ever had.”
Luther’s grip on the wine glass tightened. “And what if I cannot accept the truth? What could Xion have felt, millenia ago, that justifies her leading us, leading me, down the path of absolute destruction? And yet, if we are one, then I must—”
The glass shattered in Luther’s hand, sending blood, wine and glass shards edged in red across the laboratory floor.
“What a mess,” Luther said with a hollow smile.
Casra stared at Luther’s palm, watching a dark red liquid—wine? Blood? Most likely both—trickle down Luther’s wrist. “Are you alright?” Though Casra had no love for Luther, he made his way over to the Overseer, gingerly examining his hand for injury. He grimaced when he saw the glass splinters dug into the flesh just below the thumb.
“How unexpected,” Luther said. “You’re not usually moved to gentleness, Casra.”
“I think of it as being efficient,” Casra said curtly. “You’re hardly useful with an injured hand. Keep your hand still while I get the first aid kit.”
A low hum was Luther’s only answer as Casra left the room.
As he dug the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet, Casra tried to make sense of Luther’s ramblings. It was a peculiar fancy of Luther to characterize Mothership Xion as a living, thinking being, and not an operational system, but he had never taken it to such an extreme before—Mothership Xion’s thoughts? Emotions? What did it mean to ponder the morality of a computer’s predictions, disastrous as the results had been? In the end, it was the Photoners who chose to act upon it.
But then, even as Luther’s grip upon ARKS tightened, his behavior had grown more erratic, less confident, as if even he were having second thoughts about the end he intended to bring about. If that were the case, perhaps it would be best if he encouraged Luther's self-indulgent reminiscence.
Returning to the living room, Casra placed the first aid kit on the table. Taking Luther’s still-bleeding hand in his own, he began the slow, painful process of plucking out the glass shards from Luther’s palm.
Luther said nothing as Casra worked; there was only an occasional gasp of pain whenever Casra pulled out a particularly large piece. As the silence and collection of bloodied shards grew, Casra found himself growing restless. He couldn’t think of a time when Luther had appeared so vulnerable. Perhaps it was possible to persuade Luther to abandon his takeover.
Casra worked out the last piece of glass out of Luther’s palm, an act that drew a wince from the older newman. Casra bandaged Luther’s injury, blood still seeping from myriad cuts and soaking through the white cloth. “If this apparent revelation causes you such worry, why continue down this path? ARKS already follows your command without question, and there’s no limit to the research you’re allowed to do—nor anyone to question your methods. You have the means to discover any secret of the universe you desire...what is this fixation on entering the heart of the Mothership?”
Luther looked up at Casra, and the hard glint in his eyes made Casra’s blood run cold. “How disappointing. I thought you, at least, were capable of understanding the difference between the banal cataloging of knowledge and grasping the essence of something.”
Luther rose from his seat, freeing his bloodied hand from Casra’s grasp. “You are a perfect example of what I mean,” he said, cupping Casra’s cheek. His thumb traced the edge of Casra’s lower lip, leaving a bitter red streak of blood in its wake. “I knew you before your body had even begun to form. I have monitored your every breath, every beat of your heart--crafted every part of you. Nothing about you is a mystery to me, and yet…”
Luther leaned close, breathing his next words into Casra’s ear. “Everything about you confounds me. I cannot fathom your thoughts, cannot predict your actions. Your insight into the Draconians has far exceeded my own—not even your predecessor was capable of such a thing. If my own creations are an enigma to me, then of course, an entity like Mothership Xion cannot be understood through mundane study of her—even if that study spans eternity.”
“Of course, I have found a way to overcome this.” Luther tilted his head ever so slightly, staring intently into Casra’s eyes. “A way to overcome every barrier that lies between myself and those I long to understand in the most profound way possible. Your predecessor has experienced it, and soon—very soon—both you and Xion will as well.” He pressed his lips to Casra’s, a tender kiss that did nothing to stop Casra from shuddering at his words.
“You’re afraid,” Luther murmured, and his mouth curved into a smile. “I knew you would understand the gravity of what I seek. It is only natural to fear a change of such magnitude. But I am not worried—when the time comes, that same brilliance will allow you to comprehend my true intent, and you will welcome your fate with open arms.”
Luther pulled away from Casra, his hand leaving dark red streaks across Casra’s cheek. “Though, with how quickly my plans are progressing, Mothership Xion may well be mine before I have need of you. If that is the case, I will make sure you are one of the first to meet us. You would appreciate laying eyes upon true omniscience...perhaps I will even let you become a part of us. My gift to you, after all of your exceptional assistance.”
“I...I truly don’t know what to say,” Casra said. It took all his effort to stay calm, to keep the fear gripping his heart from showing on his face. “It’s quite fascinating to consider,” he finally managed, hoping Luther would take the quaver in his voice for excitement.
Luther smiled. “Isn’t it? Ah, I imagine I’ll miss our conversations when all is said and done. I had grown rather despondent over past injustices, but you have so kindly reminded me of what I stand to gain.” Luther’s smile grew wider, hungrier. “You will be coming to bed with me, won’t you? There’s much to thank you for.”
Spending even a second more with Luther was the last thing Casra wanted, but rejecting him would only arouse Luther’s suspicions. “Of course,” he said softly, though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Though I’ll need a moment to clean up your mess, as usual.” A weak retort, he knew, but all he muster at the moment.
“I’ll leave you to that, then,” Luther said. “Don’t spend too much time fussing over it. I have far more enjoyable plans for you tonight.”
Left alone, Casra leaned over the table, suddenly light-headed. He wasn’t surprised that his tentative attempt to make Luther reconsider his methods had failed. And Luther had revealed the reason for his creation long ago; hearing it repeated did not frighten him as it once did.
But the delusion Luther had just displayed changed things. For the past year Luther’s attentions had waned to the point that Casra dared to hope Luther had no need for a new body, but the reality was far worse. Luther sincerely believed that Casra was nothing more than a doll for him to use as he pleased, even after he took over the Mothership. The unwelcome revelation shook Casra to his core.
Sweeping the pile of blood-stained glass into the trash, Casra tried to collect himself.
Luther was expecting him, and it was best not to keep him waiting.
Fandom: Phantasy Star Online 2
Characters: Casra, Luther; Luther/Casra
Rating: M
Words: 1,828
Summary: On the anniversary of the sealing of the Profound Darkness, a despondent Luther reveals his plans for Casra's future. Casra bears this revelation as best he can.
Notes: Takes place during EP2, after Casra's made his pact with Quna.
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
- from Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda
Luther swirled the wine in his glass. “It’s quite the anniversary today. Not that you or any ARKS would know of it.” He lifted his gaze to meet Casra’s, and Casra caught the faint red flush of too much drink splashed across Luther’s cheeks. “Would you care to learn?”
Casra did not care, but he’d learned long ago it was best not to refuse Luther. Moreover, there was always the chance that Luther would let some genuinely useful information slip, something that Casra might store away and hone into a weapon that he could use to stop Luther’s takeover. “Of course.”
Luther smiled. “I thought you might.” He took another sip of wine. “Today is when I became the last Photoner.”
It wasn’t the first time Luther had mentioned that he was the last, but the exact date was new. “It must be a difficult time for you.”
“Hmmm.” Luther’s eyes were on the wine glass again, peering into it as if it held all the world’s secrets. “In fact it’s no better or worse than any other day. There’s not much purpose in observing the literal date on which all was lost, is there? But on occasion, I am compelled to remember.”
Casra held his silence. Luther was the sort who loved the sound of his own voice, especially when he thought he had a captive audience; it was best to let Luther fill the space between them with his own words.
“The end is in sight, after all. It’s only a matter of time until ARKS falls and the Mothership is mine, and then–”
I’ll fix this broken organization, Casra finished, and bit back a sigh. He’d heard this speech many times before–it was Luther’s standard spiel of luring Void researchers to his side. Why he felt the need to remind Casra of this was beyond him, unless Luther had caught wind of his rebellious heart…
“--I will know everything. Nothing will be beyond my understanding, but that is what worries me the most.”
“You? Worried about knowing too much?” Casra looked at Luther in disbelief. The Photoner brought the wine glass to his lips, taking a brief sip. His next words passed through blood-red lips.
“Imagine, dear Casra, if you could see the entirety of your future. No, not only your future–but the future of all things, able to calculate the infinite possibilities and determine their ends. You know which actions will lead to destruction, and which will lead to utopia. What path, then, would you choose?”
A wave of bitterness washed over Casra. His own fate was sealed, and Luther never failed to remind him of that. Asking him to imagine otherwise struck Casra as a particularly cruel joke.
“I’m not one for rhetorical questions, Luther,” Casra said frostily, but Luther continued as though Casra hadn’t spoken. Not that Casra had expected anything different; Luther simply needed an audience for his monologue.
“Xion chose destruction, that I know for certain. But the why is what eludes me.” Luther rolled the glass stem with his fingers, the wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “I have spent an eternity pondering the answer to this, and I am no closer now than I was the day I first begged Xion for an answer. But soon, I will have her--and every thought, every emotion that she has ever had.”
Luther’s grip on the wine glass tightened. “And what if I cannot accept the truth? What could Xion have felt, millenia ago, that justifies her leading us, leading me, down the path of absolute destruction? And yet, if we are one, then I must—”
The glass shattered in Luther’s hand, sending blood, wine and glass shards edged in red across the laboratory floor.
“What a mess,” Luther said with a hollow smile.
Casra stared at Luther’s palm, watching a dark red liquid—wine? Blood? Most likely both—trickle down Luther’s wrist. “Are you alright?” Though Casra had no love for Luther, he made his way over to the Overseer, gingerly examining his hand for injury. He grimaced when he saw the glass splinters dug into the flesh just below the thumb.
“How unexpected,” Luther said. “You’re not usually moved to gentleness, Casra.”
“I think of it as being efficient,” Casra said curtly. “You’re hardly useful with an injured hand. Keep your hand still while I get the first aid kit.”
A low hum was Luther’s only answer as Casra left the room.
As he dug the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet, Casra tried to make sense of Luther’s ramblings. It was a peculiar fancy of Luther to characterize Mothership Xion as a living, thinking being, and not an operational system, but he had never taken it to such an extreme before—Mothership Xion’s thoughts? Emotions? What did it mean to ponder the morality of a computer’s predictions, disastrous as the results had been? In the end, it was the Photoners who chose to act upon it.
But then, even as Luther’s grip upon ARKS tightened, his behavior had grown more erratic, less confident, as if even he were having second thoughts about the end he intended to bring about. If that were the case, perhaps it would be best if he encouraged Luther's self-indulgent reminiscence.
Returning to the living room, Casra placed the first aid kit on the table. Taking Luther’s still-bleeding hand in his own, he began the slow, painful process of plucking out the glass shards from Luther’s palm.
Luther said nothing as Casra worked; there was only an occasional gasp of pain whenever Casra pulled out a particularly large piece. As the silence and collection of bloodied shards grew, Casra found himself growing restless. He couldn’t think of a time when Luther had appeared so vulnerable. Perhaps it was possible to persuade Luther to abandon his takeover.
Casra worked out the last piece of glass out of Luther’s palm, an act that drew a wince from the older newman. Casra bandaged Luther’s injury, blood still seeping from myriad cuts and soaking through the white cloth. “If this apparent revelation causes you such worry, why continue down this path? ARKS already follows your command without question, and there’s no limit to the research you’re allowed to do—nor anyone to question your methods. You have the means to discover any secret of the universe you desire...what is this fixation on entering the heart of the Mothership?”
Luther looked up at Casra, and the hard glint in his eyes made Casra’s blood run cold. “How disappointing. I thought you, at least, were capable of understanding the difference between the banal cataloging of knowledge and grasping the essence of something.”
Luther rose from his seat, freeing his bloodied hand from Casra’s grasp. “You are a perfect example of what I mean,” he said, cupping Casra’s cheek. His thumb traced the edge of Casra’s lower lip, leaving a bitter red streak of blood in its wake. “I knew you before your body had even begun to form. I have monitored your every breath, every beat of your heart--crafted every part of you. Nothing about you is a mystery to me, and yet…”
Luther leaned close, breathing his next words into Casra’s ear. “Everything about you confounds me. I cannot fathom your thoughts, cannot predict your actions. Your insight into the Draconians has far exceeded my own—not even your predecessor was capable of such a thing. If my own creations are an enigma to me, then of course, an entity like Mothership Xion cannot be understood through mundane study of her—even if that study spans eternity.”
“Of course, I have found a way to overcome this.” Luther tilted his head ever so slightly, staring intently into Casra’s eyes. “A way to overcome every barrier that lies between myself and those I long to understand in the most profound way possible. Your predecessor has experienced it, and soon—very soon—both you and Xion will as well.” He pressed his lips to Casra’s, a tender kiss that did nothing to stop Casra from shuddering at his words.
“You’re afraid,” Luther murmured, and his mouth curved into a smile. “I knew you would understand the gravity of what I seek. It is only natural to fear a change of such magnitude. But I am not worried—when the time comes, that same brilliance will allow you to comprehend my true intent, and you will welcome your fate with open arms.”
Luther pulled away from Casra, his hand leaving dark red streaks across Casra’s cheek. “Though, with how quickly my plans are progressing, Mothership Xion may well be mine before I have need of you. If that is the case, I will make sure you are one of the first to meet us. You would appreciate laying eyes upon true omniscience...perhaps I will even let you become a part of us. My gift to you, after all of your exceptional assistance.”
“I...I truly don’t know what to say,” Casra said. It took all his effort to stay calm, to keep the fear gripping his heart from showing on his face. “It’s quite fascinating to consider,” he finally managed, hoping Luther would take the quaver in his voice for excitement.
Luther smiled. “Isn’t it? Ah, I imagine I’ll miss our conversations when all is said and done. I had grown rather despondent over past injustices, but you have so kindly reminded me of what I stand to gain.” Luther’s smile grew wider, hungrier. “You will be coming to bed with me, won’t you? There’s much to thank you for.”
Spending even a second more with Luther was the last thing Casra wanted, but rejecting him would only arouse Luther’s suspicions. “Of course,” he said softly, though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Though I’ll need a moment to clean up your mess, as usual.” A weak retort, he knew, but all he muster at the moment.
“I’ll leave you to that, then,” Luther said. “Don’t spend too much time fussing over it. I have far more enjoyable plans for you tonight.”
Left alone, Casra leaned over the table, suddenly light-headed. He wasn’t surprised that his tentative attempt to make Luther reconsider his methods had failed. And Luther had revealed the reason for his creation long ago; hearing it repeated did not frighten him as it once did.
But the delusion Luther had just displayed changed things. For the past year Luther’s attentions had waned to the point that Casra dared to hope Luther had no need for a new body, but the reality was far worse. Luther sincerely believed that Casra was nothing more than a doll for him to use as he pleased, even after he took over the Mothership. The unwelcome revelation shook Casra to his core.
Sweeping the pile of blood-stained glass into the trash, Casra tried to collect himself.
Luther was expecting him, and it was best not to keep him waiting.
