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

[pyrrhicviktory]

You have to put them to rest, Marco. Whatever that looks like, for you. A grave site. An urn. A water burial.

You cannot bury their real bodies. Those are gone. But you can say goodbye to them properly here, where space and time is of little consequence.

[peccatore]

Marco takes this in. Really takes this in, tension seeping from his shoulders for the first time Viktor first woke up here.

"I... That would be..."

Unfortunately, the Parents interrupt.

"Marco, your mission!"
"You've JUST remembered it! Are you going to bury it too?"

... And an air of clear dread falls over Marco.

[pyrrhicviktory]

What mission?

[peccatore]

"That's... the last one." Marco gulps. The Parents are quick to add,

"The last memory we have to show you here."
"Even though he skipped the others?!"
"It's fine, it's fine. Those wouldn't have changed his mind."

[pyrrhicviktory]

Show me.

[peccatore]

Marco nods. Once again - and maybe for the last time, if Viktor decides this is all he needs to see - the world blurs.

It rematerialises very quickly; if the time they 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.

Viktor is now in a CEO's office - clean, but sparsely decorated. Impersonal. As usual, it's night time. This is obvious from the large glass window overlooking the city below. Marco - and he looks almost identical to the Marco Viktor knows - sits at the desk, which is lousy with notes and documents and files. He stares straight ahead, expressionless.

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ Viktor finds somewhere unobtrusive in the room to wait, face impassive ]

[peccatore]

There is a chance Viktor will have to get closer shortly, but for now...

The Mother's familiar voice pipes up, like before, from somewhere in the office. Present.

"Oh, dear son. Finally."

"This is... your will," Marco mutters.

"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."

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ Viktor floats over to the desk, to see what Marco is looking at. ]

I don't understand enough about your religion to comment on that.

[peccatore]

Some of the files on the desk 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 - less scholarly than they are frantic and disorganized.

"... This was never the will of God," Marco whispers, ashamed.

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ Viktor sits on the desk, trying to make heads or tails of it ]

There is clearly a part of you that thinks it is. Or was.

[peccatore]

The notes are filled with loosely connected logic. The ideas of redemption, of atonement, of divine will keep coming up, but they don't ever seem to coalesce into something coherent. Silver-lined cameras for foolproof detection placed in every home and business will see through invisible walls, one of them says.

"I'm... ill, Viktor. Less so now - now, as you know me, but I'm ill."

[pyrrhicviktory]

... That is not so unusual, for someone who has lived so very long, and carried such a heavy burden with him the whole way.

[peccatore]

"I'm not sure if that's an excuse."

[pyrrhicviktory]

Do you need an excuse for being ill?

... Or is it something else you are referring to?

[peccatore]

"I... crafted a plan."

Marco gulps, his attention now on one of those documents that appears to be a timeline.

"If it were up to them -" He glances aside. The Parents shriek something about respect. "- you would... go through another door. See how it went wrong, see what led to it. But you've already been so patient. So... So kind."

He looks at Viktor now, really looks, as if he's taking in the strange form he's appeared in for the first time.

[pyrrhicviktory]

... What kind of a plan?

[peccatore]

"A... A selfish... ill-advised plan."

He seems hesitant, but... After a moment, even though his hands are shaking, he's reaching for a mouse on his desk and browsing a computer off to the side.

"Maybe-- Maybe, if I go from here, can we bypass...?"

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ Viktor hesitates ]

I can probably do it for you. If it is too difficult...

[peccatore]

"... I'd rather not subject you to the man guarding that door. I'm sure you wouldn't like him."

[pyrrhicviktory]

... Do you trust me?

[peccatore]

Again, Marco looks at Viktor. Really looks at him. There is a sense that some part of him is almost overwhelmed by his form, the same way he was overwhelmed the first time he heard the things pretending to be his parents.

"... Yes. Yes. I do."

[pyrrhicviktory]

... All right.

[ Viktor reaches one hand out slowly across the space between them, before it comes to a rest on Marco's forehead, gently touching there with just the tip of his index and middle finger.

For a moment, nothing happens. And then there's a burst of magic from Viktor's fingertips, engulfing the room in a warm and brilliant light. It feels like the warmth of the sun, but it has no ill effects for Marco. There's only a distinct feeling of oneness with the world.

And then Viktor sees it, inside of Marco's mind, where they need to go. ]

Imagine we are there.

[peccatore]

Marco gasps. He feels it; he isn't sure what it is, but it's wonderful and peaceful and he would love to cling to that feeling -

But in the next moment, Viktor finds himself in the audience for a press conference.

Intrigued whispers surround Viktor; nobody seems quite sure why they're here. An announcement, Marco Evangelisti had said. Nothing related to current or upcoming products; what is it for, then? Apparently, he'd been vague.

But he's stepping up to the podium now, with a perfectly diplomatic smile on his lips and something distant in his eyes.

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ It's a little disturbing to Viktor how easy that was for him, but he files that away to think about another day. For now, he steps in the opposite direction of Marco, away from the podium, instinctively shying away from the spotlight. ]