The newspaper had been folded twice. And Zavian made no effort to unfold it.
’Declassified records reopen scrutiny of SUNDIAL Researchers.’
The headline occupied most of the front page.
Below it were photographs of old facilities, officials, scientists, and documents that had supposedly been buried for decades.
Zavian read the article without much interest.
He had already understood most of it from the headline. The documents had been declassified, they were considered useless by the government.
He continued reading. Several names appeared throughout the article.
One of them appeared more often.
Simeon Grahm Barak.
S.G.B.
Chief theoretical architect, the core researcher. One of the men who had designed the fundamental energy architecture behind SunDial.
Zavian looked toward the garden while he was lounging in the sofa.
The man in question was watering flowers.
Simeon Grahm Barak stood among rows of carefully maintained flowers in plain white shirt with his sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He was old, weak.
His back was slightly hunched as he moved slowly from one flower to another, adjusting the angle of the hose whenever the water began hitting a bloom to heavily.
The garden stretched across the open lawn behind the house. It had roses, irises, tulips. Several species Zavian recognized almost immediately.
Zavian lowered the newspaper, and kept staring at the old man.
He had just graduated high-school. But his rank, and scores, bought little excitement to him.
A child who had excelled in theories since the very beginning, failed consider these wins as something outstanding and praiseworthy.
"You’re staring way too much, son," The man said.
"They released the documents," Zavian said.
"I noticed." The old man replied, but he didn’t turn.
"They’re implying you knew what SunDial would eventually become." Zavian continued.
"I knew what we built." The man replied.
"Well...the journalists are portraying you as a monster," Zavian said.
"Are they? I don’t think so," The man said.
"They’re accusing you."
"They’re accusing everyone."
"Your name appears twelve times." Zavian said.
"Eleven."
Zavian furrowed his brows and looked back at the paper.
"Twelve," he counted again.
"You’re counting the photograph caption. That’s cheating!" Old man countered.
"What the---it still counts!" Zavian said.
"No, I don’t think it should," The old man replied.
Zavian sighed and leaned back.
"I don’t get it...why’re you even watering flowers?" he asked.
"Because...they need water. I think that would be obvious," Simeon replied.
"YOU HAVE AN IRRIGATION SYSTEM!"
"Ah- right," Simeon nodded, but still continued.
Simeon turned the hose toward another flower.
"You’re still seventeen...should you be screaming at an old man like me? HAW---I’m hurt!" Simeon shook his head in disappointment.
"..."
Simeon finally shut the water off.
"You just graduated school...and you don’t seem happy at all," Simeon turned to face Zavian.
"What’s there to be happy for, I scored, I knew what I would score before the results came out, it’s just...examination, nothing else," Zavian said, almost bored.
"You live in a world where people like certificates." Simeon spoke, entering the drawing room.
"And what about you? Your certificates...they’re useless. You built SunDial, you were the core researcher, you designed the energy stabilization model, you knew what would happen to the people who tested it, and you still continued to work!"
"I know," Simeon replied.
"Why?"
"Because stopping would not have undone what happened." Simeon sat besides Zavian and picked up his gradecard.
"Knowledge isn’t guilty, Zavian."
"You can discover how to split an atom, you can discover how to repair a damaged brain, you can discover how to make a weapon, the knowledge is the same thing. But the person using it is not."
"Besides, who said certificates are useless? How do you think you’re living a life of luxury, huh? Money doesn’t grow on trees!" Simeon joked.
’Joke’ because he was already rich before he was a scientist. It was generational wealth.
But Zavian...did not get that humor.
Simeon sighed.
"Now," he pointed toward the flowers.
"Tell me why this one is dying." He asked.
Zavian looked at it, and then back at the old man.
"You cut its stem." He replied.
"It was already dying," Simeon countered.
"..."
"I mean I’m asking why it was dying, why did I cut its stem. Oh come on, do I have to put questions like I’m putting an equation in front of you now?"
Zavian sighed, and got up. He stepped closer and crouched beside the flower.
The leaves were slightly yellow, soil was damp, there were no visible insects, the surrounding flowers appeared healthy.
He touched one of the leaves.
"Micronutrient deficiency."
Zavian looked at the soil. "Possibly iron."
"No...they’re all growing in the same soil, the roots. There’s too much water." Zavian corrected his hypothesis.
"You’ve been watering this section more heavily." He looked at Simeon.
"You noticed? Well it’s evident," Simeon nodded.
"You killed it." Zavian said.
"I just overwatered it," Simeon replied.
"That’s killing it!" Zavian repeated.
"You sound offended." Simeon laughed quietly.
Simeon rested his back, and groaned of age.
"You keep asking whether something is useful. You never ask whether it’s worth making. Not everything worth creating needs a purpose, Zavian. Some things are worth creating because they are beautiful."
"The most dangerous people I’ve met were the ones who thought everything needed to be useful."
"Remember...everything already has a purpose. But if you keep thinking of each and everything’s worth deliberately. You will lose the human edge to reality."
"For even the beauty of the big bangs is the last sight, a blessing for those who die a painless death."
"Horror is not always gruesome. Sometimes...it’s beautiful."
[Current Capacity: ~51%]
The first petal appeared in the air.
It was pink. Bright. Illuminating his force throughout the arena.
A soft darkness held in its centre, which even made it more mesmerizing.
It descended slowly, and the arena was silent enough for everyone to see it.
The petal drifted past Marcellus’s shoulder.
Then another appeared. And they multiplied. They came from everywhere.
Just appearing out of thin air. One even floated past Rafe.
Another landed gently in the fractured ground.
The audience stared at the beautiful petals filling the arena.
One of the cadets near the front instinctively reached out, and the petal passed just beyond her fingers.
The barrier had caught her hand before she could touch it.
"What..." she murmured.
More appeared.
Tens.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Pink illuminated against the blood, stones, the air.
A few petals stuck on the floor to ceiling glass window in front of Inessa.
She and her assistant stared at them. They looked impossibly delicate.
She could see the veins of force within them, so fine that they resembled natural structure of a flower.
"---What is this---"
"---Are those flowers---"
"---They look so real---"
"---Did he just create them---"
Murmurs moved through the audience.
Even Rafe had stopped moving. That’s how mesmerizing they were.
Marcellus stood several meters away, and his eyes were still closed.
The arena...looked peaceful.
Suddenly.
All of the petals moved. They began gathering, curving through the air.
Slowly forming a circle around Rafe.
He looked around and all the petals started gathering in circles around him.
None of the petals collided against each other, they moved elegantly, drifting in the air.
"What is this..." Rafe was baffled. They looked completely harmless.
They were too pretty for a power.
Marcellus opened his eyes, and the petals reflected in his rose irises.
[Observation: Infused Oscillation.]
The petals began to tremble.
Rafe felt it in an instant.
A faint vibration crawled across his skin.
His fingers twitched, he looked at the nearest petal, and it was shaking wildly, and violently.
Their edges began to blur. A low, inaudible sound entered the arena.
*Znnnnnnnn*
The sound grew.
The glass behind Pillar’s gallery trembled. Inessa’s expression changed, and so did audience.
It crawled through Rafe’s teeth.
Zero point was stopping him from using his powers at all.
Petals were screaming through his body.
Suddenly...the sound changed again.
*ZNNNNNNNNN*
Rafe stumbled, his hand went to his chest.
Something was wrong. His skin prickled violently.
Every hair on his body stood upright, he looked at his arm and muscles beneath his skin were twitching.
"No..."
A thin line of blood appeared beneath his nose.
His fingers came away red. Cracks and tears crawled within his skin, blood began to seep out.
Rafe dropped to one knee.
His breathing became ragged.
"Stop..."
The vibration increased, and his vision shook. He slammed one hand against the ground.
Marcellus had now stopped using zero point.
But despite that, Rafe couldn’t use his force. His core could not control the force that reverberated wildly throughout him.
"WHAT IS THIS!!!" He screamed in pain. His voice tore through the arena.
The petals were screaming violently.
The sound was increasing, vibration was increasing.
Resonance was climbing higher, and higher, and higher.
His body was being torn apart slowly, while he was unable to do anything.
Glass of the pillar’s gallery cracked.
Barrier of the arena shivered.
[Observation: Cascading Resonance.]
The petals began glowing brighter.
They had become one. One enormous violent Oscillation. A system that was feeding itself.
[Observation Recorded: #####]
Marcellus’s breathing became shallow.
The petals were reaching their limit.
’Horror is not always gruesome,’ he remembered.
Every petal suddenly stopped moving.
Rafe froze, as they turned brighter and brighter while his body was incapable of moving.
[What would you like to record this observation as?]
The entire arena went silent.
’Sometimes its beautiful.’
"This..." Marcellus growled, as his core burned.
"This is the garden of that geezer."
"The Weeping Garden."
[Observation Recorded: The Weeping Garden.]
[Execution Available.]
[The Weeping Garden.]
[Executing: The Weeping Garden.]
The world erupted.
A massive sphere of pink light swallowed the center of arena.
*BOOOOOOOOOOOM-----!!!*
Stones were vaporized in an instant. The fractured ground disappeared beneath the blast.
Barriers screamed of resistance, and the glass of the Pillar’s gallery began shattering.
Every petal ignited at once.
Pink flames erupted through the arena.
And only at the last moment...Marcellus remembered that he had forgotten to shield himself.
Rafe’s body was thrown across the battlefield, Marcellus was thrown in the opposite direction.
Neither could protect themselves.
The explosion consumed everything.
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