Linked by both hand and neural amalgamation, could they stay that which the Director feared most? Always, Sion has lived by running from his potential for violence and for destruction, and now that it has manifest before him, all he is able to do is--...
Cede control to someone dear and someone trusted, held in the highest regard. Because they do not have a choice, do they? It is either they overcome this together or not at all, and Sion cannot abide by the latter; by a future where those who struggled and strived to show others the light of hope would only be consumed by the brightness which they so readily offered in the end.
Though it is only seconds which pass, each and every ebb of Sion's will to keep something foreign out is something tangible, allowing for Julius' neural pressure to pervade the synthetic circuitry of his body; the tunable parts of the Director which are rational and controllable, logical elements embedded into his system in order to provide a failsafe for his engineers, those in the military who had once sought to create a biological machine.
If Julius were able to amplify Sion's own neural action impulses—still steady and still strong, the signals are the Director's tools to create and to shape beautiful works of art from the compound of programmable matter—by supplementing them with his own--...
Perhaps then, the matter could be contained and controlled. ]
I trust you. [ In this moment, this thought is what Sion wishes to convey most, a whole-hearted return of the words which Julius had confessed to him in the moments after he'd woken, proving that all curses might be broken. ] I am sorry I cannot do more than this.
[ But there is more, isn't there? The curl of Sions' fingers about Julius' hand, full of faith for all that he is afraid, holding to it like a lifeline. ]
no subject
Could they, really?
Linked by both hand and neural amalgamation, could they stay that which the Director feared most? Always, Sion has lived by running from his potential for violence and for destruction, and now that it has manifest before him, all he is able to do is--...
Cede control to someone dear and someone trusted, held in the highest regard. Because they do not have a choice, do they? It is either they overcome this together or not at all, and Sion cannot abide by the latter; by a future where those who struggled and strived to show others the light of hope would only be consumed by the brightness which they so readily offered in the end.
Though it is only seconds which pass, each and every ebb of Sion's will to keep something foreign out is something tangible, allowing for Julius' neural pressure to pervade the synthetic circuitry of his body; the tunable parts of the Director which are rational and controllable, logical elements embedded into his system in order to provide a failsafe for his engineers, those in the military who had once sought to create a biological machine.
If Julius were able to amplify Sion's own neural action impulses—still steady and still strong, the signals are the Director's tools to create and to shape beautiful works of art from the compound of programmable matter—by supplementing them with his own--...
Perhaps then, the matter could be contained and controlled. ]
I trust you. [ In this moment, this thought is what Sion wishes to convey most, a whole-hearted return of the words which Julius had confessed to him in the moments after he'd woken, proving that all curses might be broken. ] I am sorry I cannot do more than this.
[ But there is more, isn't there? The curl of Sions' fingers about Julius' hand, full of faith for all that he is afraid, holding to it like a lifeline. ]