Pulvis et umbra sumus

or, We are dust and shadow

"Do you remember when you first selected them?" he asked the other, joining him as they watched the screen; pristine white flared in the overly bright lights as they were woken up from an almost painfully long slumber. They hadn't seen the need to have two Watcher units running around the city, not with the populace having been steeled to their presence. It hadn't taken long in all honesty. With that touch of glamour from the Spectacles and comfortable familiarity of the Custodians, they were new but not so new that the city's residents would balk at their appearance. Whilst they had the power to quash a potential uprising, it was easier to let the masses think they were being listened to. It was better in the long run too; they didn't have a large enough genetic pool to sacrifice half of it in the name of control.

"Yes...I also remember your way of selecting them, most unusual." They replied, leaning back as they flicked over floating screens. These mobile cameras, drones they had once been called, had only grown smaller over time. They were specialised, military equipment now, what with mechanical manufacturing having fallen so far down the list of priorities. No-one fought any more, there simply wasn't the opportunity or reasoning behind it. Certain aspects of yesteryear remained; cameras, microphones, body scanners...anything that could monitor those small ones down past the ivory region.

With a sigh, he took his usual place, leaning on the glass. Shadows were cast long over the room, the silence sat heavy as they watched the world below them pass by as tiny flecks to the eye. They were an intimidating pair, even now when time had done little to favour them. There was still something of their past in the way they held themselves, the way they watched others walk by at an unusual pace, the way they addressed any who dared enter their very presence.To be summoned to the room usually meant only one thing; quietus. No-one fought it, not any more. There had been an initial backlash from the select elite, but it didn't last, not for long at least.

"None of the others came close to what I needed; they were too light or too aggressive. Too dumb, all of them were too stupid to do what I needed them to do." He stated, breaking the silence for just a moment. That was right, wasn't it? He hadn't wanted pretty faces who would play their roles and little more. He wanted something in them to fight back, he wanted to have to break them and build them back up. He wanted them to defy him for once. He was sick and tired of the same old routine. Others in his position in other cities, they mocked his boredom. They questioned his sanity; why would anyone want a hard time? Hadn't they done enough just to get to their current position? Why put that at risk? He was, simply put, nonsensical to them. A fool playing the role of a king and hoping no-one would catch him out.

"They were readied for disposal for a reason." The silence didn't stay broken for long. His brother was one of his greatest critics; the one could never understand the other. He didn't understand their obsession with order and predictability. They didn't understand his fixation with pushing boundaries and the romance found in chaos. They worked, barely admittedly, but something in them made their coalition work.

"I wasn't after mannequins." He sniped back, turning to watch them; this constant picking at each other wasn't healthy and they both knew it. To those who didn't know their connection, one would assume they were a constant bickering couple. Concepts such as religion and heteronormative values had died with what had once been known as the americans. No, not all of them; some had survived, but certainly not the religious types. They had no place in the new world, and their toxic values that placed boundaries on affection had gone with them. They had been shut out to die with what was left of the world. Adaption was the only way to make it. Adaption and specific, desirable traits that would mark them apart from the overpopulated world masses. It was cold and it was cruel. He had not enjoyed his time watching over and even now, after all the time that had passed and allowed old wounds heal, he did not enjoy the memories.

He knew they were watching his face flicker, he knew they knew what he was thinking. There was no hiding it when they had been together as long as they had.

"Ah, that's right. You have a weakness for the broken ones, don't you?"

"Is this it?"

Row upon tidy row of lifeless eyes stared at them as cameras zipped from one pod to another. It was safer this way; cleaner, quicker supposedly and certainly more mechanical. Though, they were dealing with machines, weren't they? As much as they looked human, they weren't. Even the wax figures of the old world looked more alive in their records than the current batch of Personas did in exact time.  He was sure there had been more females deemed successful in the initial report, and yet...something felt off.

"Ah, no. We did have others but-" Waving his hand, he closed the open files and watched them for a moment as their attempt to justify unauthorised actions fell dead in their mouths. Flapping around in his presence, he couldn't help rolling his eyes, as he recalled every time he'd told them not to do this. And it was every single time he came to them. He was so sure they would have learned by now. Disposing of personas because they fell short or exceeded certain structures was not a good enough reason in his eyes. There had been a time when exceeding certain values made you desirable, not something to be destroyed before the world saw just how bright you really were. Those close enough to be considered viable made it to this level of maturity, survived the creation process. Anything good enough in his eyes would have been in that report and he would see them all.

"Then bring them back. I want all of them here." He cut in; there wasn't time for this playing around, especially not when the other was done selecting their preferred units. It was embarrassing, put simply, that he had to remind them of his preferences every single time he came down here. It was predictable though; both that they would have once again forgotten his requests and that the other would be so quick in his selection. His trust went entirely on figures and yes, it had worked. Every project he worked on ended up near enough at the top of their category. There was something to be said for intuition though; theirs may have burned brightest, but his burnt longest. 

"Here, the other eight are being brought in now." They  said, tone clearly implying an irritation with his methods. Still, he was the one paying for the creation and destruction of the personas, why shouldn't he be able to see all of them? It seemed ridiculous that he still needed to micromanage them after all this time.

These creators...the way they spoke with such superiority got under his skin. Refocusing his attention on the screen as the cameras flew over to their new targets, he found himself gazing at the recovered information to go with them; too tall or too small, too intelligent, hypermobile, not agile enough, higher levels of energy consumption, mute, short sighted, rebellious nature...though all were potential issues, none of them he considered any real danger to their ability to perform in the field. If anything, some of the traits made them more appealing than anything else. No, they were more than suitable in his eyes. Or some of them were, at least. He was aware of the eyes on him as he handed his screen back, judgment painfully obvious. Still, this was his choice, not his brothers. He wasn't going to bend to accommodate their opinions on who he should be selecting for new projects.

"What makes them any more broken than yours, brother?" he snapped, tired of the constant accusations. Not all his projects went wrong. He firmly believed it had nothing at all to do with the bloodlines involved in their creation. Yes, there were flaws, but there were flaws in everything. Why should the Personas be any different? They excelled in ways his academic path couldn't; his brother's personas created a sense of fear and awe in the populace, his gave rise to security and a sense of worth among the worthless. "No. allow me to rephrase that; what makes them any more broken than you?"

It was a low blow, he knew it, but it had to be said. He had no regrets as the other turned and left the room, sighing as the door hissed shut and left him on his own.

The issue had to be raised. They had once been just as young and strong as the now wild Personas running around their city, chasing after each other on orders and on impulse in equal measure. They had been gods to the populace once. Back before they allowed age to creep in and idly sat by as their vitality flowed away. Then again; humanity had been gods once. They had ruled the planet with an iron fist that saw them consume more than they needed, starved for greed and aesthetics in unequal measure, marched along in neat little columns to the tune of progression. Progression...what a filthy concept it seemed now. The idea of burning fossil fuels that poisoned their atmosphere in great black plumes no longer appealed to anyone; not that there was enough left to do so on the industrial scale they once did. The foundries and factories were all skeletons now, jutting against a dead sky stained with steel greys and occasional bursts of stunning red if the images of the outside world were to be believed. There was no greenery left any more; no trees to climb and no wide, open fields to chase fluffy, little dogs over. All in the name of Progression. The romance of the old world was dead and it wasn't going to come back.

Much like they were in a way; they had about as much chance of catching the Personas as life did surviving outside the domed cities.

As the door slammed shut behind him, he settled down in to his seat once again and found himself staring out over their great city. The contrast was exceptional; even in this brave new world, there was still a great deal of inequality. They had tried to make things equal, but the more...human their residents were, the further down the chain they found themselves. The towering white buildings of the elite looked so out of place when you compared it to the dirtier, older constructions closer to the edge of the dome. But that was what everyone aspired to be, right? They all wanted to be elites deep down, to be waited on and to be praised for their intellect or their sporting prowess. No-one wanted to admit this underclass existed and you had to look hard for them most days, but they were there. They were hidden away was all; tucked away in pockets of populace surrounded by their more acceptable counterparts. He was almost certain they would be the deciding factor in this cat and mouse game, and that was dangerous. Hope was fatal to control, absolute dominance was an essential requirement in ruling these last few beacons of life.

Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and sighed as the world around him grew darker. The day lights were dimmed, leaving on the soft lights of their artificial night to illuminate the giant rabbits warren of back alleys and twisting streets. In a blind panic or in a desperate attempt to escape, human criminals would easily trap themselves in one of the numerous dead ends, exactly as the city was designed to do. This was supposed to be a safe place, at least until the planet healed enough to begin venturing outside. The problem was that the city itself was burned in to their minds; Vicis and Candentia, like their custodian counterparts, knew every hidden passage and rat's tunnel escape. Neither required rest or nourishment. It was a game of wit and intelligence; who was going to outsmart who first?

So...life is a thing. I start back in education waaaay back in September, and I had a year to pick up enough points to get in to my university of choice on the course I want to do. I have 2 exams this coming week, three units after that and two of them have to be the highest possible grade I can achieve (a distinction, in this case) to secure a place at university. My life has been assignments, presentations and exams almost non stop. It's safe to say, I had forgotten just how demanding classes can be.

I can also say for certain the chapters in this story aren't going to be as long as in the others I've written, nor am I entirely sure just how long this is going to be any more. 10 longer chapters was the initial idea, but I just don't know any more.

Also, cookies for anyone who can guess which group is which both in this chapter and the last. Oh, and anyone who guesses who the brothers are gets a gold star too. Cookies are always good, but gold stars are better.