The little girl sits in the hydroponic garden. Her back is facing the entrance, and she cannot discern her face.
A synth petal falls silently on the ground, and she notices that sound does not exist in there. She wants to open her mouth. She can only blink and move forward in the middle of the plants.
The frail little girl is still sitting a few metres away. She moves in that direction.
"Do you like my plants ?" The little girl asks.
She wants to answers that she likes them very much.
"I like them. They keep me company." The little girl adds.
She wants to ask the little girl who she is.
"I like to draw everyone of them. They are all different, you know."
She would like to agree with that statement. The little girl puts what seems to be a sheet of translucent paper aside.
One of the hydroponic plants is perfectly reproduced on it, to the millimetre.
"That place feels more real than any other one in the real world."
She wants to ask what is so special about this place. The little girl looks awfully familiar.
The hydroponic plants shiver. A gust of wind blows all the fallen petals into the night skies. The petals are all sheets of translucent paper.
***
The little girl now watches the salmon-pink skies of the late afternoon. Cobalt clouds shine like prisms under the sweltering sunset.
She still cannot see her face, but she can perfectly feel the little girl's feelings. The little girl's heart is happy and carefree.
Her own heart is weary and doubtful.
"I like the clouds too."
She wants to ask if she draws them too.
"Drawing them makes me feel like I have a purpose."
She would like to know if she has one too.
Under her feet, the serrated metal floor. Under her feet, the noise vibration of the aerostat's solar engine.
"Do you feel like you have a purpose ?"
She wants to shake her head.
The surrounding air is hot and dry, almost burning. The Red Giant's heat distorts the light. Drops of suspended water in the clouds refract it in all directions.
"I feel like I have a purpose because I learn. Knowing things makes me feel real."
The colossal ball of light eventually drops beneath the horizon. The scene fades to black.
***
A ray of light pierces through sparkling, ephemeral floating particles.
"I wish I could stay here all day long."
She suddenly wishes it too. Endless shelves of books, bathed in the same red light.
"Mother is a sinner. But it gives her a face."
She wonders what those words mean.
"I have no face. I just exist, but it feels like void. So, I learn to become whole."
The little girl is sitting on the floor, her back still turned at her. She is fully concentrated on the book she reads.
A paper book, filled with translucent paper sheets.
"Do you have a face ? Are you real ?"
She starts to feel scared. The intangible trace of fear fills her mind and her guts. But she does not know what this means.
The little girl eventually turns back. The little girl looks at her, and she looks at the little girl. She looks at her younger self, younger face, and gasps.
***
Azurite electric waves pulse through the nothingness. Bare VR always looks that way.
"Have you found yourself ?" Asks a holographic speck of sand.
She looks at her left hand. The small delicate palm of her little self is clutched inside.
"I feel empty. I have learned many things, but I feel not whole." The little girl says.
She notices that her little self speaks for both of them.
"Where did your journey carried you ?" Says the creaking voice.
She wants to remember her past.
"An egg. An egg coloured in Amarr gold, an egg coloured in Yulai white, an egg coloured in Gallente Turquoise." The little girl says.
The speck of sand is now a miniature sandstorm.
"Little truths. What have you learned ?"
She does not know at all.
"What have you learned ?" The creaking voice insists.
Depression catches back at her.
"I am not whole. I have no purpose."
"Have you looked in the right place, Little Truth ?"
The sandstorm is just a single speck of sand again.
"You are a SoCT capsuleer. You are a mirror. You exist for that specific purpose. You are the mirror of Amarr. You are my window to Athra."
The little girl is scared.
"What do you mean ?"
"You are one among many sheets of carbon paper. Some reflect upon Gallente, Caldari, Minmatar. You are the reflection of Amarr."
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Topic: Thousand Sheets of Carbon Paper (Read 791 times)