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So it is done
🕑 Added 2024-03-21 09:33:50 +0000 UTCHow do you kill an immortal witch who has seen the rise and fall of hundreds of civilizations? How do you kill someone who can't be killed?
Jonathan had devoted most of the past three years to researching Salem. Even if she had acted clandestinely most of the time, and she certainly hadn't, a person with her influence on the world scale could not have passed through the millennia without leaving traces in reality. Old legends, passed down oral tales, archaeological excavations, artifacts of long-forgotten states, Salem had left her mark, you just had to find it and study it.
Jonathan was hardly an ally of Ozpin's, in some ways he was grateful to him for making him wake up to the reality of the world years ago. But in some ways, he also hated him as an enemy of humanity, who saw the world only in terms of fulfilling his holy mission to save Remnant. A worthwhile mission, sadly Ozpin wouldn’t even blink if he had to sacrifice a couple of million people to even gain the smallest of advantage. And he had done so many times, as the traces of the civilization destroyed by Ozpin could attest to.
It’s actually quite hard to measure which of them had killed more humans.
But, in the end, Ozpin and Jonathan were on the same side as they worked on Salem's destruction, a grand event crowning thousands of years of Remnant history and the struggle of two immortal beings. Jonathan did not see his alliance with Ozpin continuing after the fight with Salem was over, but for a brief moment of united aspirations, Jonathan could trust Ozpin.
He got as much information from Ozpin as he could, of course, he double-checked it himself, but there were very few ways to verify information from five hundred centuries ago. And so, much of Ozpin's information Jonathan had to take on faith, and a boulder sized grain of salt.
Jonathan also had to take on faith the information brought by Leonardo Lionheart, the traitor, simply because the information he could provide could mean the difference between success and failure.
Jonathan could personally try a few dozen ways to eliminate Salem in the more conventional methods, without having to solely rely on esoteric methods.
But, who would know what Salem would do after these failed attempts? Each option he thought of, discarded, meant that there would be less time for Jonathan to delay using the ritual. A bullet would not work, fire could not kill her, and neither would a blade nor poison work…
Gradually, more destructive ways of destroying Salem began to appear in Jonathan's mind, but they too were gradually being discounted.
What was the point of vaporizing half the continent with the power of the Sun if it was just the same old fire, if concentrated beyond belief, at the end of the day? Increasing power but offering nothing radically new?
Salem could not be defeated by force, and if Salem could not be defeated by force, she had to be defeated by intelligence.
However, even here, Jonathan began to run into obstacles right from the very start, the things he knew had already been tried by Ozpin. There might be a thousand ways to skin a cat, but apparently Ozpin had already tried 999 of them.
A star's gravity trap? Ozpin had used this trick before, to no avail. Sealing Salem forever in a multitude of small parts? No success. Seal her in another world? Perhaps that would have worked, but Jonathan did not possess such an ability.
Gradually, Jonathan's ideas were cut off one by one, before he came to the conclusion that he definitely could defeat Salem… In ten, twenty, or maybe a hundred years, after he would have evolved to the heights that all other mages looked upon with horror and awe, an Archmage.
Perhaps, having become an Archmage, the problem of Salem's would be a trifle to solve, unworthy of attention. A mere immortal against one who could control the entropy of the universe and the world's flow of time? It could not even be called a fight, only a distraction from the real pressing problems.
However, that is something that is in the future for Jonathan, if he was quite lucky, maybe in the next few dozen years. What about now? Right now, Jonathan couldn't defeat Salem, he couldn't kill Salem, not in any way. There were no plans in which Jonathan, in his current form, could kill Salem.
The realization of that fact crushed Jonathan’s spirit for a while, made him shut himself in his office for a day, trying to figure out what he could do, how he could destroy Salem… Before coming to a paradoxically simple conclusion.
He really couldn't kill… Salem.
But he could destroy someone other than Salem, couldn't he?
In that case, the whole question came down to this.
How exactly could Jonathan Goodman turn Salem into not-Salem?
Jonathan had come to that realization a year and a half ago. And since then he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to solve the unsolvable riddle that had occupied Ozpin's mind for the better part of an eternity.
How to kill the unkillable? Simple enough.
You just have to make them killable again.
Jonathan was different in many ways from the other mages that had once been his colleagues, even before he had found himself stranded in Remnant.
He was different in his position, his history, his financial abilities, but speaking specifically about one specific thing that separates him from most mages, in that he had survived something that many of them could never have imagined.
Jonathan had survived the destruction of his Pattern.
It was not without its cost, however. For many years he was crippled, forcing him to rely on his cane if he wanted to move, and the lists of medication and the injuries he had sustained could fill several sheets of paper.
But Jonathan was able to survive this event, and later even to rebuild his Pattern once again.
His Pattern, his own essence, his own nature, his self-concept. Was destroyed and yet made anew once again.
It was difficult enough to destroy such a thing in itself, if we were to speak of the very possibility of such a thing in the first place, but it was much more difficult to rebuild it. And it was even more difficult to change it. But Jonathan, unlike many other mages, had done.
So why couldn’t he also push Salem down that path?
How could Jonathan kill Salem? He couldn’t.
But if you kill what Salem is…
Old tales and forgotten legends had little answer for how Jonathan could destroy the living thing that called itself Salem, but it did answer the question of what is Salem?
Salem was a powerful witch of the Grimm, an enemy of Ozpin, a black shadow looming over Remnant, but what lurked deeper than the scary titles? Was Salem to be described fully in her entirety with such titles, names, and descriptions?
Jonathan Goodman was not described by his name, ‘Jonathan Goodman’.
Behind the superficial names there was the next layer, followed by another and another, until one reached the deepest, dormant layer of one’s being.
The True Name.
A meaningless set of sounds describing the essence of a phenomenon.
For people, weapons, objects, time, events, for Jonathan himself, there is one, a True Name.
And to ‘kill’ Salem, Jonathan had to find Her True Name.
A True Name is a reflection of an essence, it is not constructed according to any rules and carries no meaning, symbol or translation. A True Name is pure essence without form, substance without expression, filling without understanding what the filling is.
A True Name is the perfect catalyst for everything.
A year and a half, that is what it had taken. A year and a half of researching Salem, her history and actions, appearances and half-remembered memories from Ozpin, and the plans and thoughts she had shared with Lionheart.
All in order to come to an understanding of the True Name of Salem.
Tenoxe Makthalos Lurideran.
Ten syllables of pure nonsense without any connection to any language of the universe.
The True Name of Salem, signifying everything and nothing at the same time.
All Jonathan had to do after that to complete his mission?
Was to change her True Name.
As for what needed to be changed? There was no need to worry about that. Whether it was a single sound or the entire word at once, any change to Salem's True Name would destroy Salem's essence as she is, depriving her of her essence of immortality.
The Brothers' immortality was powerful, and being bound to Salem's essence made it indestructible, but the moment Jonathan unraveled the tangle of essence that is Salem, that power instead became Salem's vulnerability. Jonathan only needed to change the True Name to which Salem's immortality clung.
But how exactly could Jonathan change Salem's very True Name?
Certainly, magic had to be involved. But, changing the essence, the True Name of an object was not a simple act of mispronouncing something or sticking a piece of paper on Salem with the signature of a new True Name on it.
Something more was required, something far more accommodating to the idea of Jonathan's likeness that he had once been trained in…
And Jonathan had prepared the grandest ritual under the nose of everyone, even the most careful of observers.
A simple birthday party. The devastating Ritual that would ‘kill’ Salem.
In terms of ‘reality’ and ‘logic’ such a day represented nothing of significance, just another date of the calendar, a day in a human’s life. The 300+ rotation of the planet meant nothing to the human living on it. Man continued to live, grow up and grow old every second, rather than counting his progress in years.
Such events, from the point of view of statistical probabilities, the observance of world magnitudes, or the movement of celestial bodies, were nothing special.
But in terms of its symbolism…
A Birthday was a magical day, as it symbolically counted down the lived year, a dividing day between the lived life and the coming future. It was a boundary, a turning point in a person's life, allowing one to draw an unambiguous line between ‘what was’, ‘what is’ and ‘what will be’.
A day signifying an important change, cutting off the past and becoming something new.
And this event was signalled, of course, by blowing out the candles on the cake.
A kind of marker of the event, the center point, denoting the fait accompli of the birthday celebration.
There was a tradition of making wishes by blowing out candles.
A wish that was bound to come true. A wish connected with change, with the coming future and passing of yesterday, a new opportunity and a new chance for the future.
And so, when the cake with burning candles was in front of Jonathan, he smiled, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, carefully formulating his wish…
Then he exhaled sharply, blowing out the candles.
And thus, it is done.
***
The end of Jonathan's birthday party was rather quiet and even uninteresting, the ritual magic Jonathan had created and cast was powerful, but not impressive or spectacular at all. To an outside observer, Jonathan simply blew out some candles. Of course, the effect was that somewhere, on the other side of this world, an old witch who dreamed of death lost her curse of immortality. And was finally able to fulfil her dream that she had kept for so long, to finally be rid of the life that had lost its luster so long ago.
Kali, Neo, even Cinder, who was closest to Jonathan and took all of Jonathan's lessons about magic to heart, did not see the moment when the prepared ritual came to fruition… Jonathan, however, definitely felt it when it had come to pass.
He had not seen how Salem reacted to his actions or could now trace the effect of her death over the weeks, months, and even years that would follow.
In other words, the powerful ritual, based on arcane principles beyond the comprehension of mere mortals and even magicians immersed in the invisible practices of this world, was so mundane and unnoticeable. If Jonathan had not had the ability to sense it happening, he could have sworn that nothing mystical had happened at all.
However, Jonathan still had his powers and knew that his spell had come into effect, and Salem had been stripped of her immortality.
So that was it. The finale of a thousand years of struggle.
Jonathan's celebration was fairly calm and quiet, after blowing out the candles on the cake, Jonathan received his gifts and congratulations, cut out a piece of cake for each of his guests. He then drank some martinis even when he didn’t really like alcohol, if just to symbolically celebrate his birthday.
And after another hour and a half, as evening fell and the summer sun began to set, he sent the Belladonna couple away in their car, leaving Neo, Cinder and a small army of RATS agents around him.
Next, taking a new shift of agents, Jonathan waved off the rest of the agents, so that they could take the opportunity to dine at a restaurant themselves, a birthday present from Jonathan to his personal security. Agents who were usually deprived of all rest and sleep during the round-the-clock guard duty around his person, before heading home in his private limousine.
Upon arriving at the house, however, Jonathan waved Neo goodbye as she went to her own home, insofar as that home could even be called 'hers'. Before, along with Cinder, entering his own home, closing the door behind him and switching on the lights inside.
Jonathan's house was comparatively small, almost undignifiably small in relation to his income level, but Jonathan preferred to think of it as ‘cozy’. Huge palaces evoked some admiration and aesthetic pleasure in Jonathan, but he couldn't consider them as a home. At least, the kind of ‘home’ in which Jonathan could not just ‘sleep’ but live and be happy to return to every day.
A perfect world, a perfect home, a perfect family…
Is that a bad thing?
No, Jonathan, of course not, but the question is not whether it's a bad thing….
It's about what happens next, yes, I remember.
Once inside and his cloak and shoes taken off, Jonathan, unable to contain his emotions, picked up Cinder and twirled her around in a sort of dance, before laughing and kissing her on the lips as Cinder happily reciprocated.
Up until this moment, ever since the party, Jonathan had never been able to find the right moment to express all his emotions at the news he had received from Cinder.
Cinder, in response, contrary to her usual calm state, laughed without reservation as well, before kissing Jonathan, her lips ghosting on Jonathan’s own, before being repeated again and again.
Cinder was by no means weak, even among the Huntresses she stood out, able to easily cut a car in half with a single swipe of her hand. But at this very moment, raised and being twirled in Jonathan's arms, the mother of his unborn child, she seemed so small, fragile and defenceless to Jonathan. Someone that is worthy of Jonathan laying down his life, for his future wife and the future mother of his child.
I… I don't want to change anything in my life.
Exactly, Jonathan, exactly! You just have to draw the last line, put the last dot, understand and realize that…
Spinning Cinder around in the air one last time, Jonathan set her down, then kissed Cinder once more, unable to contain himself, before looking back at her, his expression glowing with happiness. “I'm… Happy. Cinder, I'm happy.”
“I am too,” Cinder replied simply, then letting her girlish nature show for a second, she jumped into Jonathan's arms, forcing him to put his arms out in front of him to hold her back, and gave Jonathan a sly look.
“Have you thought about a name?”
Jonathan, who had already had tens of thousands of such running through his head at this point, especially when he had learned of Cinder's pregnancy, shook his head nonetheless.
“No… But definitely not Jonathan Junior!”
At his humorous reply, Cinder, apparently deciding to throw off her usual stoic nature, threw a sly look at Jonathan, then looked away, murmuring something quietly, but definitely loud enough for Jonathan to catch it. “But that was my favorite…”
Jonathan grinned, having clearly caught on to Cinder's plan, not that it was too hard for him to do so. And he leaned forward, allowing Cinder, in a rare display of her desires, to ride Jonathan's arms, ignoring even her own impulse to carry Jonathan in her arms, no matter how strange it would look.
Walking to his room, Jonathan laid Cinder down on the bed, after which he thought about something for a second. After only a few sips of alcohol, and considering just how in shape he was, Jonathan hardly felt the effects of alcohol on his mind. At the same time, however, the cocktail of endorphins, far more intoxicating to his mind than alcohol, made him think about his schedule tomorrow.
“Oh well, I could use one of my holidays.”
Shrugging, he leaned over, catching Cinder’s mouth in a deep kiss, pulling off his horribly uncomfortable shirt, as he wanted nothing more than to feel Cinder with his bare skin.
Perhaps being king, he couldn't afford the weeks and months of holidays that the other inhabitants of his kingdom could afford, but at least on his birthday… He could take a few hours to spend with his future wife and the mother of his baby, couldn't he?
***
Climbing out of bed an hour and a half later, very much spent and drenched in sweat, both his and Cinder’s, Jonathan headed for the shower, picking up the scattered articles of clothing as well. Putting on his underwear, trousers and shirt, he once again looked like the politician and king that he is. Before reaching for a comb and trying to tidy up the wet hair that had been disheveled during his peculiar birthday 'celebration'.
He would like to soak for a bit longer, but alas, he had lost track of time.
“You’re going to meet Aifal?” Cinder, not even bothering to get out of the sheets or even cover her nakedness, looked at Jonathan calmly, clearly having shed the excess hormones that had pushed her into her previous over-emotional state. Back into the role of the ‘perfect secretary’, at least for a while.
“I thought I hadn’t shown you the contents of the letter from that girl, what was her name again, Pyrrha? Are you reading through my personal files again, Cinder?” As Jonathan ran a comb through his hair and looked at Cinder, he was not at all surprised that she knew the background of even his most secret negotiations with the world players.
“It would be strange if the head of a RATS division didn't know what other RATS agents know, that Pyrrha Nikos had approached you and handed you an unknown note. Given that she came from Mistral, from an orphanage built and supported by Aifal, and had shown no significant political ambitions before? The puzzle worked itself out.” Cinder said calmly, not at all feeling guilty of spying on her boyfriend? Husband? Personal dealings.
After all, she couldn't even be accused of being the girl who had invaded her boyfriend's personal space. Yes, she was part of the structure that ensured his personal safety, that was her job. Doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t be paying any special attention to any woman that crossed Jonathan’s path.
“It was unusual enough that he decided to use such a simple and open method… Perhaps the information that his health was failing was indeed true…”
“Any guesses as to what exactly he wanted to discuss with me?” Jonathan asked, producing from his trouser pocket a folded note written in Aifal's handwriting. A folded note containing only two words, ‘Come Alone.’
In response to Jonathan’s question, Cinder pressed her lips together slightly, for the moment, when hormones weren't raging in her mind, a sign of extreme irritation and resentment, before saying slowly.
“Plenty.” For RATS, 'plenty' meant 'none', and considering that this was coming from a high-ranking official of RATS, Remnant's most powerful secret organization, capable of tricks that could scarcely be imagined by sci-fi fans, that in itself spoke too much. It required a miracle of even greater caliber to beat this one
“I think it would be relatively safe, the usual coterie of RATS agents will be watching me from afar, with orders to intervene if I stop giving the all clear, or signal in any other way, but I don't think Aifal would do something like that…”
Jonathan hummed before running the comb through his hair a few more times as he turned around to show himself to Cinder.
“How do I look?”
“Speaking from a professional point of view, as usual, except a little more cheerful, and the shower didn't take away all the sex smell, so Aifal will probably know what you've been doing all this time. But, our assessment of his personality indicates that he won't bring it up.”
Cinder answered without hesitation with complete honesty, before leaning her head back on the pillow, covering her eyes and exhaling, showing that she really was the best girl in the world.
“From my personal point of view, like the best man in the world.”
“Thank you for both assessments, Cinder.” Jonathan grinned a little, and then looked again at the picture he was looking at, the bed, the gathered linens, Cinder’s lounging form…
A picture I want to come home to, again and again.
Just like that, Jonathan, just like that.
Then, closing his eyes, he took a step.
***
Jonathan had been in the hospital a few times before. The first time was after his crazy stunt that had destroyed part of his Pattern, and a few times after that, for his annual checkup, and also after his regeneration, to check his body’s condition. Not that there was a need to check for the latter part, having one’s Pattern becoming whole once again is an unmistakable feeling.
Even when he had to explain some stuff to the Doctor’s of how he was no longer crippled. His reputation as a miracle worker had come in handy, Jonathan had a long-standing reputation for creating miracle cures. So, such an event only caused a few surprised raised eyebrows, after which the doctors, who had not even been ordered to keep silent, decided not to say anything.
Jonathan’s experience with the hospital also included the time he had visited Aisa, especially in her last days.
So, he was familiar with how a hospital room looked, and was not the least bit surprised or frightened to see Aifal's face half covered by the oxygen mask. Aifal who only gave him a slow glance as he appeared in his hospital room, he was expecting Jonathan after all, slowly, with great effort, Aifal sat up.
“I believe Salem is dead?” Aifal only smiled slightly as he glared at Jonathan, making Jonathan wonder for a second how he could have gotten that information, before Aifal shook his head slightly again.
“A great trick, in plain sight but always unexplained… Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Jonathan Goodman, bani Bonisagus?”
Making his way over to Aifal’s bedside, Jonathan dragged over one of the stools and took a seat next to his bed. “I think you realize you won't be staying alive after our conversation, don't you?”
“You can't let anyone else know about you, your nature and abilities… Cinder, Neo, Salem and Ozpin. Two holds all your confidence, and two are already effectively dead.” Aifal only grinned a little wickedly with half of his partially paralyzed face.
“Don't worry, I don't plan on living any longer than I have to anyway…”
Hearing those words Jonathan only looked at Aifal strangely, how did he?
Answering the unasked question, Aifal touched his temple with one of his fingers, from his one remaining working hand. “Mind-reading. How else would I have been able to create the greatest crime ring with Ozpin around, if not by possessing the greatest Semblance in the world? Mind-reading, heh, well, you now know the greatest secret of the best criminal mastermind of Remnant, Jonathan…”
The realization of how this dying man probably knows all of his secrets, made Jonathan nod in respect at the man, who hadn’t spilled any of it. “And? Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I never planned to relive this conversation,” Aifal answered simply, causing Jonathan to raise one eyebrow and Aifal to exhale, rolling his eyes slightly.
“What happens next… I see.” Jonathan suddenly said, making Aifal nod in satisfaction. If Aifal could read his thoughts, trying to keep any kind of secret with him was useless.
“That's right, Jonathan. Really, what happens next? What had made me think it was time to die?”
Aifal looked at Jonathan, a man who could kill him as easily as flipping his hand, then grinned.
“I helped you take control of Mantle, and then I got you in trouble with Ozpin. I almost got Ghira out from under your thumb, and I helped you grow your economic initiative. I smuggled a horde of Grimm into Vacuo, and slipped you Amber… What do you think my motivation is for all of these things?”
Jonathan had thought about it before, he'd thought about it many times in fact, even using the best analysts in RATS to work on Aifal, before they'd all agreed on a singular picture of his psycho-portrait.
“You were bored.”
Jonathan replied after a moment of silence. “And playing the world and its movers, like some kind of game, was fun.”
“Yes!” Aifal chuckled happily for a moment before going silent, looking at the wall in front of him before turning his gaze back to Jonathan,
“And so, have you found the answer yet? Why do you think my life is coming to an end? Why did I accept death so easily?”
Jonathan thought about it for a moment, but the answer came to him quite easily, making Jonathan smile, and judging by the smile on Aifal’s face, he had guessed right. “Because you see only boredom ahead… And no way to entertain yourself.”
“That's right.” Aifal slowly breathed in deeper, enjoying the cool wind from the oxygen tank, nodding.
“You've won, Jonathan, you've achieved everything you wanted in the world and solved its ultimate problem, Salem, and Ozpin. And in ten or a hundred years, who knows, maybe the gods and the Grimm are next? You would unite humanity, lead it to a new future, and no one can stop you… Not even me. The world would become beautiful, kind… And terrifyingly boring.”
What's next, Jonathan.
An ordinary life, an ordinary beautiful life. A regular, measured, beautiful life…
A star seemed to explode in Jonathan's head for a moment, making him laugh out loud as he also sighed. Was it really that simple?
You've finally figured it out, Jonathan.
What's going to happen next? Nothing's going to happen next. That's the point.
All this time, Jonathan, I've been telling you… Inaction is also a choice, when you realize, where it's going to lead, that it is indeed the best option.
There will be nothing more, no great wars, no fight for life, no terrifying decisions that would need Jonathan's entire consciousness and focus.
The climbing had stopped, he had reached the apex.
All his life, Jonathan had been moving towards the Ascension. The sublime and unattainable goal of humanity, the Ars Unitatis, the Art of Uniting All, the Ultimatum of Truth… And he had reached it.
What is a good man?
To have travelled all this great path, to say at the end that…
I don't know.
Exactly. The final answer that Jonathan realized only years later that…
I don't know.
And to give up on finding the answer.
Jonathan, through all the twists and turns of his life, moving closer and further away from his goal, in the end could only say…
I have researched all I can, and I can give nothing more to that research.
The life of the mages, their rise, was not built on the mages' misfortune, but on their growth, their change, their continued journey. To stop that, for power, money, decisions, was tantamount to death…
To stop for the sake of a good family, children, and life, too.
For a mage loneliness was their only eternal partner, always in their own world and moving towards a goal known only to them.
Now that Jonathan wasn't alone… He couldn't be a mage anymore.
He could still do magic, most likely even more, in the coming years he would transcend all boundaries, become an Archmage, achieve immortality, control cosmic power and an understanding of magic that he could’ve scarcely imagined.
But you'll never make it to the Ascension, Jonathan.
That's it, mate. Nice talking to you.
Jonathan blinked.
Is this… Goodbye?
That's right, that's exactly it. Why would someone who no longer aspired to Ascension need an Avatar?
Jonathan thought for a moment before closing his eyes as the moment seemed to stretch to infinity.
Will we see each other again?
Yes? No? Who knows? Maybe in your next incarnation in this world? Or a hundred years from now? Possibly even tomorrow? Or when this reality collapses and restarts again? Such things are not for me to know.
Jonathan was silent for a moment before he turned his gaze to Aifal and exhaled, looking at him, a mysterious expression on his face. “You… You knew about all this, didn't you?”
“Yes, no, who knows?” Aifal only smiled back at Jonathan, making him chuckle uncontrollably.
So this is how the story of Jonathan Goodman ends...
End? Why, the story of Jonathan Goodman is just beginning, don't you realize that? Archmagery, divine power, the destruction of the gods, the prosperity of the world! It only ends with the story of one lost long ago on a path he never wanted to take, dragged to this stage by an old man, an abandoned orphan from faraway London. Jonathan Goodman's life is just beginning, King of Glenn, husband of Cinder Fall, and father of… a girl? A boy? Or maybe twins? Who knows, Jonathan, who knows?
The mystery of it made Jonathan chuckle.
Magic. The destruction of Salem.
That's right, Jonathan. You destroyed her true name, erased what she was… Using your experience, using your birthday, using your magic. And no deed in the world goes unrecognized, Jonathan.
What's up is down.
So it is done, Jonathan. So it is done.
After a moment the Avatar fell silent and Jonathan grinned before turning his gaze to Aifal, who pulled off his oxygen mask and slowly inhaled the air through his lungs, the first in a long while, smiling.
“There… Much better…” Aifal said slowly, with a slight smile flickering across his face, half of his face remained unmoving, half expressed sincere joy, making it impossible to tell which one was his true feeling… And thus Aifal dies.
“He kept people hanging until the end, what a rude man…” Jonathan chuckled as he watched Aifal breathe his last breath, as the monitor by his bedside stopped beeping.
In other circumstances, of course, the monitor would have let out a shrill cry, alerting the doctors and nurses on duty. But how hard would it be for the world's greatest crime boss to break his medical equipment a little?
“Goodbye, old fox. Don’t hassle the people wherever it is you’re going.” Jonathan grinned speaking even as the silence made his voice rang with clarity as it seemed to echo in his suddenly clear head.
One whose voice was now only his own.
His mind became… Calmer. Clearer….
Perhaps this is how ordinary people think?
Maybe that's what the norm is? Is the silence what is normal?
But life had not given him a chance for Jonathan to know what was normal or not, that question had never arisen in Jonathan's mind.
What did it mean to be good?
Jonathan had explored that question… And never came to an answer.
“Maybe next time?” Jonathan grinned to himself before turning away from Aifal's resting body, taking a step forward, and arriving somewhere else.
So it was done.
