LUCEM
LXXXIII Chapter

"Tell me, again," Lucio told Magenta, "exactly what you told them about me."

Magenta looked up. Sighs.

"He and I were involved in a bit of a heated discussion" Magenta said. “Marbella remains with her belief I am not a clean ally to her, perhaps a little thought that I was evil. You complicate the rest for me, Lucio, thank you."

Lucio raised an eyebrow. " Yes, I apologize for my carelessness, may I?"

Magenta smiled mockingly. " You mean people like you can change?"

"Yeah... I know it's a mistake that's repeated, but opportunity always gives you a chance, right?" Lucio let out a sick moan as he unintentionally moved his shoulders excessively.

"Look at you, now you've changed a little... More like a jellyfish monster," Magenta laughed softly.

"The girl is scary. Lucio's face turned serious. " The young man opened a dark grave in me and the girl— You know what it's like, Magenta? It was like finding a cure, but the process was really painful, I think he was able to kill without blinking," Lusio showed horror.

Magenta. And Lucio knew, just by looking at his eyes, what he was going to say.

“Of course, we'll just keep trying. I thought if you really regret—,” pause Magenta, “Then control yourself. I'm sure you can. Yep. I believe it.”

Lucio rolled his eyes.

Magenta dropped his head slowly on the man's hand. And Lucio grimaced with the pain, but he smiled a moment later.

With force, he moved his fingers slowly at Magenta's head, touching it gently.

“So, like, in a hypothetical situation— If I come at them asking for amnesty, claiming to be a changed person, do you think our situation will improve . ?”

Magenta turned around, placed his chin on the mattress, just staring at the pitiful-looking man.

Then he threw himself back into the chair and groaned.

"Lusio," said Magenta softly. “You know better than anyone how we do everything in this dimensional space. I dedicate my life to give the second chance— and the third— to those who have been expelled by the world. You'd be dumbfounded if you knew how many people's lives are derailed by a simple mistake that's getting bigger, increased out of their control because no one has ever been there to help or even for a little help—”

"You're right." Lucio tried to raise his hand, but failed. "I love you. I really am, "he said softly.

Magenta looked at him fixedly and smiled. " But you're so ugly right now, another man is a thousand times more handsome than you."

"Damn." maki Lusio to herself.

Magenta laughed out loud.

After a while in him, Lucio said. "But Mars is no ordinary man. Dia—"

“Of course he's a regular guy, stupid. That's core. We're all just ordinary people, when you're researching us up close. There's nothing to be afraid of when you see Mars, he's as human as you or me. Equally scared. And I'm sure if he could come back and live his life again after this all, he would make a very different decision.”

"Maybe not" he said slowly. "But that's what I believe."

"Is that what you believe about me too?"

ask Lucio. “Is that what you told them? That I was just a good man, a helpless man who never raised a finger to hurt anyone else? That if I could repeat it again, I would choose to live my life as a monk, dedicating my days to almsgiving and spreading goodwill?”

"No" said Magenta keenly. Obviously he's getting upset. “I told them that your anger is a defense mechanism, and that you can't help yourself that you were born to an abusive father and a little mental damage there. I told him that in your heart, you are a good person, and you don't want to hurt anyone. Not really." Magenta held a smile.

"Cih," Lucio threw away his face.

Before long Magenta said goodbye, leaving the man alone in a room filled with blue neon. By ourselves.

Lucio took a small bottle from under the pillow and drank it. His throat was burning like it was swallowing fire, but other than his reddened face there was no other sign that could represent his pain.

His eyes closed tightly. Not moving.

Mars!

I'm a thief.

I stole a notebook and a pen from one of the researchers, from one of his lab coats when he wasn't looking, and I stuffed both of them into my pants pocket. This was right before he ordered those people to come and pick me up. The one wearing the odd suit with thick gloves and gas mask with foggy plastic windows hid their eyes. They are strange creatures, I remember thinking. I remember thinking they must be owanna because they couldn't be human, the one who handcuffed my hands to the back, the one who tied me to the chair. They stuck tasers onto my skin repeatedly for no reason other than to hear me scream but I didn't want to. I moaned but I never said a word. I felt tears running down my cheeks but I didn't cry.

I think it makes them angry.

They slapped me awake even though my eyes were open when they arrived. Someone released me without taking off my handcuffs and kicked both of my kneecaps before ordering me to get up. And I tried. I tried but couldn't and finally six hands pushed me out the door and my face bled on the concrete for a while. I don't really remember the part where they dragged me inside.

I feel cold all the time.

I felt empty, like there was nothing in me but this heartbreak, the only organ left in this hell. I felt a gust reverberating within me, I felt a bang echoing around my skeleton. I have a heart, science says, but I am a monster, society says. And I know that, of course I know that. I know what I've done. I'm not asking for sympathy.

But sometimes I think—sometimes I wonder, am I monster—for sure, I will feel it now?

I will feel angry, cruel, and vindictive.

I know blind anger and bloodlust and the need for justification.

Instead I felt an abyss within me that was so deep, so dark that I could not see in it. I can't see what he's holding. I don't know who I am or what might happen to me.

I don't know what I can do anymore.

Can you help me?