Marco's Heart

[peccatore]

You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:

A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.

Comments

[peccatore]

Mordimort would be excused if she forgot her "guides" were still here, at this point.

"She's trying to help him?"
"Doesn't she understand what will happen?"
"She must."
"She's innocent."
"She's not ignorant."

... The businessman, sadly, doesn't seem to hear her. Even though he just spoke, his eyes are already as glassy as a corpse's.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordi looks back at the apparitions. Angry tears sting the corners of her eyes.]

I know I can't... change a memory. It isn't wrong... to wish things happened differently...

[peccatore]

"... You're... kind, Mordimort. I'm sorry," Marco mutters.

And then he strikes - but curiously, he seems to angle his attack on the other businessman away from her. It feels quite deliberate.

His wounds heal rapidly; when he's done, hardly anybody could guess he's just driven a car off the road. There are no signs of injury save for the blood on his sweater, but most of it isn't even his.

He comes to his senses, not with the sheer horror of that first night but with a mounting dread. And then a voice comes, loud and crystalline:

"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

Though it's the same voice, it doesn't come quite from where the Parents were standing. It emanates from somewhere close by, somewhere vaguely above, somewhere here, and Marco looks around, frantic and confused, trying to locate the source.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordi's been doing well holding it together so far, despite the increasingly harrowing scenes she's been shown. But the sudden loud voice causes her to shriek and begin crying. It's too much for her now.]

[peccatore]

"Mor-- Mordimort!"

This memory is significant and deeply harrowing, but even so, Mordimort's reaction breaks through and takes priority. Marco rushes to his feet, to hug her and hold her close.

"It's okay. I-It's okay, you're safe. ... They're not real. It's okay."

[reddenedgalaxy]

I'm s-sorry... I'm sorry...

[she sniffles and tries to wipe her face without smearing anything on his clothes. His bloody clothes. Yikes.]

[peccatore]

"... You don't have anything to apologise for. Nothing at all."

In fact, he's the one who starts mumbling apologies under his breath.

[reddenedgalaxy]

...

You... didn't want to... hurt anyone... but you had to...

[peccatore]

Those voices ring out from above again. Marco holds Mordimort closer, perhaps hoping to drown them out, but he can't silence them entirely.

"You didn't HAVE to."
"So many opportunities to make this right..."
"But you're selfish."
"Parasite."

[reddenedgalaxy]

...It isn't true... wanting to live... isn't wrong...

[peccatore]

This time, Marco's grip loosens.

"... Even at the expense of others?"

[reddenedgalaxy]

[she nods, slowly]

[peccatore]

"That's... kind of you, Mordimort. That's kind..."

His arms go lax. The world is starting to blur and shift again...

"I wonder if... No. I probably wouldn't have listened..."

[reddenedgalaxy]

If... what?

[peccatore]

Marco shakes his head, and everything scatters.

When the world comes back, it comes back very quickly; if the time these memories take to solidify has anything to do with their relative position on a timeline, then this one must not be long after the crash at all.

Mordimort is now in a CEO's office - clean, but sparsely decorated. Impersonal. As usual, it's night time, which is obvious from the large glass window overlooking the city below.

Marco - and he looks almost identical to the Marco Mordimort knows - sits at the desk, lousy with notes and documents and files. He stares straight ahead, expressionless.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordi sniffs and wipes her eyes as she takes a look around. So this is what his office looks like... and the city outside is so unfamiliar from the big city she knows back home.]

...this must be... mor recent...

[peccatore]

Marco nods briefly, acknowledging Mordi's observation.

A Mother's familiar voice pipes up. Like in the previous memory, it doesn't seem to be coming quite from the same place as usual. It's simply in the office. Present.

"Oh, dear son. Finally."

"This is... your will," Marco says, his voice unsteady.

[reddenedgalaxy]

Will... what will...?

[peccatore]

"This is the will of the Lord," the Father says.
"God's will through us. Through you." The Mother.
"Can you do it? Will you do it?"

"I... have to do it. For my soul." Marco casts his gaze at the contents of his desk.

"For your soul."
"Then you will be saved."

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordimort steps closer, so she can see what Marco's looking at. She has a bad feeling about this.]

[peccatore]

Some of the files appear to contain news articles about mysterious phenomena. Part of them certainly sound supernatural in nature. Others could very well be talking about the weather.

Some of the documents appear to contain drafts for a 5-to-10 year timeline - a mission plan of sorts. They're full of handwritten notes. The year 2016 is circled and underlined on one of them. The word "PUBLIC" is right next to it.

The smaller notes are all handwritten, and quite hard to follow. They appear to be collections of thoughts.

[reddenedgalaxy]

Marco? What is this...?

[peccatore]

"This was... my plan." He sighs. "To make things right."

[reddenedgalaxy]

What does it mean... by "public?"

[peccatore]

"It means..."

He pauses. If not for the fact that he doesn't need air, it almost sounds like he needs to catch his breath.

"I was going to tell everyone. I did tell everyone. About... the supernatural. About people with magical abilities."