Resonance - This article is part of a series.

Part 10: This Article

Episode 10: Foolish Compliance
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Joji opened his eyes to the smell of metal, the sound of distant chatter, and the grinding and banging of a hangar full of frantic activity. He dragged his fingers over the cold rusting platform floor and turned to Rin; who was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s not real.”

The image cut across his vision. She was closer, staring intensely into his eyes.

“She’s not real.”

He squeezed his eyes tight and she was swallowed up by the flickering lights and static behind his eyelids. He opened them-

“She’s not real.”

Joji saw Rin flash through his mind. She stood before him, devoid of emotion. She glitched- Rin was immediately before him, her face closing in on his. Her eyes were closed and he could see the soft freckles around her nose; she was so close now that he could see the tiny indents and bumps of her otherwise polished skin - he could feel her warm breath on his lips-

She glitched suddenly and violently, now in the distance - her face featureless and terrifying-

“She’s not real.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted forward with a shriek. He twisted and crashed onto the metal floor. His heart had gone into overdrive, but Rin had disappeared and the upper portion of the hangar took her place. Joji was instantly hit with the overwhelming musk of sweat and alcohol. The pungent cloud had crept up behind him and enveloped his senses.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, shot a wary and grey Franken.

“Fuck you,” shot Joji instinctively, “You gave me a damn heart attack!”

Franken’s brow angled and eyes strained - he started to speak, when Joji cut across him-

“And you smell fucking awful. I’m almost tempted to jump.”

The sharpness in Joji’s rebuke disarmed Franken and his features softened and Joji became all too aware of just how grey he looked. He almost felt bad for him.

“What do you want, Franken?”

“I want to sleep.” he replied, now with a much more gentle tone, “but, I had to find you first. If they’d found out I’d lost you because I was… well, I’d be in the shit.”

Joji saw the fear in Franken’s eyes, or perhaps it was simply self-preservation. In either case, the defensive barriers in Joji’s mind were weakened and he felt duly compelled to help.

Joji sighed with disdain.

He laboured to his feet.

“Lead the way.”

✧

Franken led Joji around the upper portion of the hangar and through a large door that opened up to a wide corridor bustling with activity. Besides Franken’s stumbling and wayward walking, Joji was astonished at just how close the hangar was to the main tunnels. He had thought that he had meandered his way through a dark labyrinth of tunnels for hours into the early hours of the morning; and yet the Seraph was merely fleeting moments away from the main tunnel that he had walked through every day since being captured.

Joji laughed under his breath at the irony.

“Franken-” came a deep voice from behind them.

“Oh shit…” muttered a weary Franken.

“What are you doing?”, queried Mikkel. His greying moustache sat cosily on his friendly yet tired face.

Franken’s eyes opened wide and his eyebrows stood to attention. He glanced nervously at Joji, he flashed a couple curious looks.

“I - err, well Joji, and, well-”

“Just-” Mikkel interrupted Franken’s ramblings by raising his hand before wiping his brow. He exhaled deeply. “Ms Kuroda told me she had relieved you of duty last night and had accepted responsibility for Joji. Why are you still up, and here?”

“Oh right- yes, well, I was on my way for some breakfast and, I erm, saw Joji here who needed-”

“Just go, Franken”, said Mikkel firmly but softly.

Franken hurriedly and awkwardly hobbled off into the distance, weaving between the people in the busy tunnel. There was a flurry of activity as the men and women went to and from their days’ duties; not that Joji had deciphered what any of those duties might be.

Despite living among them for several days, and despite the numerous conversations with Director Ryu and the others about potential involvement, he was none the wiser about how they operated, and perhaps what was most troubling for him, how they operated without getting wiped off the side of the planet.

It was well known in the civilised world that UGA control had rapidly and comprehensively spread through all major habitable zones. Countries had fallen, not through force of arms or war, but by the consolidation of power of a few huge conglomerates that had woven themselves so deeply within the fabric of society that, once they made their lateral moves into politics and control, it was merely a question of how quickly a government would cede power in the interest of its citizens.

The creation of UGA and its liberation of mankind was taught extensively; but history prior to its existence was rarely spoken of.

What people did know, however, through learned experience, was that whilst freedom of rights and liberties were frequently spouted as a main driver of the UGA and key to its values, such freedoms were only afforded to those who did not speak out against the UGA, for to do so was rebellious and sowed discontent - which the world needed no more of. And yet Joji had found himself at the heart of a rebellion, and he couldn’t comprehend how it could function in the shadows; when he had forever thought of the UGA as being all seeing.

“So, kid,” said Mikkel, not slowing down or turning around as he led Joji through the tunnels, “how are you doing?”

The question disoriented Joji and cut through his forensic enquiry of the rebellion.

“Tired, I guess,” replied Joji.

Mikkel let out a deep cracking laugh that sounded like a hard life long lived before replying.

“Aren’t we all! Try doing this at my age, and then you’ll really know what it feels like to be tired!”

They continued walking through the tunnel, although at this point Joji was well aware of where he was in relation to his room and how to get back, he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to do the journey unaccompanied.

“Mikkel,” Joji started, “what did Rin say about me?”

Mikkel had a glancing look behind this time, and a curious grin etched on his face.

“Why do you ask?” he retorted. Joji could only see the back of the man, but he was certain he was grinning gleefully and smugly.

“Yesterday was a bit of a blur, I’m just trying to make sense of a couple things.”

“Of course you are,” replied Mikkel, who continued to walk without expanding on his response. Joji frowned, and tried again.

“Well?”

Without missing a beat, Mikkel replied again without even turning.

“Someone is chatty this morning. Who would have thought, all it would take is an evening stroll with Ms Kuroda.”

“What? No, it’s not anything like that, I’m just curious -”

Mikkel stopped and simultaneously chuckled loudly, drawing the attention and gaze of several by-standers. As Joji drew level with him, Mikkel slapped him on the shoulder.

“Oh kid, you need to lighten up!” He composed himself before carrying on, “she had reported that she saw you and Franken out and about and that she took custody of you so that Franken could clock off and get some sleep. What else would she say?”

Mikkel met Joji’s eyes and raised his eyebrows in a curious yet jovial manner before chuckling again. Joji’s face remained as stoic as ever, but for a small eye roll.

“Here, come on, we’re nearly back. You know, you think too much?”

The pair of them strolled ahead and finally reached Joji’s room, where Joji filed through the doorway.

“Lad,” said Mikkel as he did so, stopping Joji at the entrance.

“I’m err, sorry if you took offence to anything I said about you and Ms Kuroda, I’m only jostling ya.”

“Oh, no - I wasn’t offended at all.” Joji replied, somewhat taken aback at the apology.

Mikkel smiled and for a moment looked into Joji’s eyes.

“Thanks kid, it’s just,” he hesitated, “you remind me of my son. It puts me at ease I suppose? I have missed joking around with him. He was always so serious, just like you - much like his mother. But oh, so kind, both of them.”

“Where are they now?”

Mikkel’s mouth twitched and formed a reluctant half smile and forced air through his nose. He met Joji’s gaze once more.

“Not here, kid.” he replied solemnly.

“But, that’s why I’m here, doing all this. I know I’ve only got a small part to play, and hell, my bones won’t let me do much even if I could, but whilst the cold aches in my joints keep me awake at night, it’s the numb ache in my heart that hurts the most. Being here, around all these driven people, it gives me some hope that things can change. I just wish-”

Mikkel faked a smile again.

“I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to get started. We’re all taught that if we stay quiet and stay in our lane we’d be left alone to live our lives the way we see fit. We had a lovely apartment, we even took trips out of the city when we could; I did what I was told, even… even when it cost me my own morality. I thought by staying in line, they’d be safe, but one day…”

Mikkel flinched and his eyes narrowed. This time his face could not hide the sorrow and anger.

“They just left them at home for me to find. The floors, the walls, the ceilings… they were stained with… and what for? I can hear them at night asking me the question. What for? I have spent the last few years tying myself in knots trying to find an answer; was it so I wouldn’t step out of line? Was it for control? But it couldn’t be that, I always did what I was ordered to do. They told me, my superiors at UGA, what they did. They watched to see my reaction, they wanted any opportunity to cut me down. It was a test, I think. The answer, why they died, was because of my cowardice; my foolish compliance, the blood on my hands… I never once spoke up, and that was my punishment.”

✧

Joji laid on his bed and stared at the dark grey ceiling and allowed his mind to wonder and process Mikkel’s disclosure.

Foolish compliance.

Despite the flood of emotions that washed over Joji as Mikkel opened up to him, Joji found his mind to be strangely stoic and calm; despite the emotions, despite the storm of sadness and anguish reeking from Mikkel just moments prior.

Joji felt the crackle of a fire within him and the warmth of the flickering as it started to fester and grow. As it did, he felt the piercing glow of deep purple eyes hovering over his existence, and a dark bubbling anger was building and presenting as a cold and mechanical desire. There was a rationality to the anger; he thought back to Mikkel’s words and couldn’t help but recall the ghostly, depleted, and resigned faces from the metropolis, and the crowds of ghoulish figures who littered the lower floors of the city.

Had they too foolishly complied with the goings on with the world; had they accepted their place in society and fallen into line through fear and weariness?

Joji felt Mikkel’s sadness, and it manifested as a brutal and surgical desire for justice; and yet, he so too felt the irony of his disdain for those quiet bystanders who allowed the world and humankind to sink and fall into such disrepair and moral failure so to prop up something like the United Global Accord.

Perhaps the strongest flame though was burning at his own self reflection.

Foolish compliance.

He allowed his thoughts and inner monologue to flow and take shape, charting their own journeys like strange and sad waves of a coursing river over dry ground.

His eyes grew heavy as his thoughts drifted further; and he reflected on the isolation and loneliness of his own thoughts. How would he be judged for his unfiltered thinking and his raw interpretation of the world and his own thoughts and feelings? It is no wonder that one can feel so lonely among crowds of faces when your true being is trapped and guarded in your own mind. How can you be understood or seen when your words and actions are only specks of the truth, small pieces of a larger and greater web of thoughts and existence. How liberating would it be to be unfiltered and true, to be seen, witnessed, and accepted for the realest you? It would be a surrender of pure delight and bliss, to be unbridled and unequivocally real - accepting the fear and risk, for what is surrender without consequence?

Joji drifted to sleep.

✧

Director Ryu and Kaelen Vane were huddled over a desk, swiping through data on a screen, when they looked up to see Joji nonchalantly strolling through the hangar.

The white Seraph stood tall and ominous, taking centre stage for a crowd of men and women pouring through data. Joji could only guess that they were trying to work out the Seraph, as though it was some ancient god fallen from the skies only to be bound and experimented on. He clenched his jaw at the thought and felt his brow tense.

“Joji Sekko,” said Ryu, looking up from the data, “I will admit, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long before spending time with the Seraph.”

“You know that I’ve asked; you know I wanted to pilot-”

“Yes, yes, of course,” replied Ryu, with a hint of pedantism rolling off his tongue, “but I never said you couldn’t visit.”

Joji rolled his eyes and carried on walking towards Ryu. He glanced up to the towering white mech before pointing his attention back to Ryu.

“Okay,” said Joji nonchalantly. “Listen,” he continued, “I’ve made a decision.”

Ryu and Kaelen Vane shot each other wondering glances and curious murmurs grew and echoed throughout the hangar.

Director Ryu was the first to speak.

“Oh you have? That’s great-” “I’ll help you,” interrupted Joji. His defiance was growing stronger with each step closer to the Seraph. He spotted the soft, hovering figure of Rin in the corner of his eye. She was holding an electronic tablet in front of her and taking slow, purposeful strides towards the epicentre of the commotion. She was looking at Joji, and he thought he saw the flicker of a faint smile as her soft lips betrayed her otherwise emotionless face.

Director Ryu opened his mouth to speak, but Joji spoke.

“Let me sync now.”

Joji’s demand, spoken with a flat and inoffensive tone, rang with fire and purpose. He stood, staring up into the dark shadows of the Seraph’s eyes, and he could see the hidden purple flame bursting through its eyes and into its soul.

Director Ryu shuffled forward in disarray. Kaelen Vane hunched over with a hysterical smile, took off his glasses and wiped them clean with a small cloth from his jacket pocket.

The excited murmurings of the crowds now rumbled with intrigue and excitement.

“That’s great news, Joji! Great news,” spoke Ryu with renewed vigour and encouragement. He had made his way to where Joji was standing, and he placed his hand on his shoulder.

Joji recoiled, and his body rolled forward - Ryu’s hand slipping off into an awkward position in front of him.

“I want to sync now.” Joji declared once more.

Ryu, still standing awkwardly with his arm outstretched; attempted to compose himself but the scrunching of his eyes and the frantic blinking gave him away.

For the first time since his meeting, Joji now saw a small slither of control slipping through Ryu’s grip. Ryu took hold of his outstretched hand with his other and intertwined the fingers of each hand - a flawless recovery.

Director Ryu smiled.

“Joji, you’ve kept us waiting for days and now you’re the keenest of us all!”

He took a step towards Joji.

“Of course you can sync with the Seraph! This will give the entire cause hope! As the machinery sent from the heavens breathes into life, so too will the embers of our renewed vigour, and it’ll be because of you!”

Joji followed Ryu’s slow pacing with a watchful gaze before looking back to the Seraph.

“We’ll get everything set, and then we’ll begin. Why don’t you go back to your room - Mikkel? Where is Mikkel-”

“Ryu,” interrupted Joji once more. “I’m going in now; or you may as well shoot me.”

“Joji, we have to get all the people together, the equipment, the-”

“Vane,” shot Joji more loudly this time addressing Kaelen directly, “do you have everything you need for me to sync now?”

“Yes.”

Ryu spun around with panic and concern on his face.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Kaelen’s cries rang out through the hangar and he hurriedly began bashing away on the holographic screen now before him.

Ryu’s fraught look faded to resignation.

“So be it.”

✧

Joji stood surrounded by several members of Kaelen’s team who were prodding him with all sorts of sensors and probes. He felt his irritation and impatience bubble with each passing moment. His body now itched all over, inside and out; he craved for the resonance of the Seraph. The closer he had gotten the more he yearned for it. He had become more aware of the lights, the voices, and the touches on his clothes as they connected the sensors - he felt his entire being being pulled towards the white angelic standing above him and all of this was getting in his way.

He tapped his foot furiously, and he could now feel the clinging and heavy sweat layering his forehead, trying with all its might to hold on rather than.

“Are you nervous?” asked one of the technicians as he struggled to attach a sensor to Joji’s right shoulder.

“Nervous?” quizzed Joji.

“Well, you know what happened to the other-”

The curious technician was duly and violently slapped on the back of the head by a tall lady with dark brown hair tied up with some kind of metallic wire that caught the light from the hangar spotlights and sparkled each time she moved her head. She wore large circular glasses that overpowered her otherwise delicate features.

“Ow! What the hell was that for!” he rubbed his head with vigour, and no doubt the sting from the slap was still reverberating around his large square head.

“You know you can’t talk about that!” the tall woman screeched in reply - her voice was sharp yet soft, loud - but restrained.

“Talk about what?” Joji asked.

She looked up and caught Joji’s eye.

“Nothing. Just stand still, we’re almost ready.”

The questioning man now looked at Joji with a sincere look that put Joji on edge.

“You can’t talk about what?” Joji asked once more, this time slower and more purposeful.

The man looked around in the direction of Kaelen Vane, before edging forward to Joji. He leaned forward.

“The other day-”

“Psst, no you can’t say anything it’ll ruin the whole-”

“Oh please, he’s about to sync himself to a prehistoric war machine seemingly built by the future, he should know!”

He leaned in closer to Joji, “The other day… they got one of the top mech pilots to try and sync up,” his voice trailed off and quietened with every beat, to the extent that he was barely whispering.

He leaned in even closer.

“Started screaming at 5% sync… stopped screaming at 11%…”

Joji’s eyes narrowed.

“Someone else tried syncing?”

“Tried being the right word, that’s for sure. The screams were nightmare fuel. I don’t know what you’re getting yourself into… that thing, that thing isn’t natural.”

A silence fell on the technicians who had been listening. It was clear to Joji by the ghostly looks on their faces that they had been present and witnessed the pilot resting the Seraph.

“Where is he now?” queried Joji without emotion.

The tall lady looked down and back up to Joji, before stepping forward.

“His mind… it’s like he’s there in person but his mind, it’s just - he’s gone.”

Her eyes were deep blue and as they watered over by sorrowful tears. They had a somewhat glistening shine to them that were made even more graceful and beautiful by the shimmer of her sadness and shine of her tears. Joji studied her carefully before seeing the deep neon glow of purple fires in their place.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“It was stupid for him to even try,” said Joji, staring into the distance.

“-What?” the lady stepped back and her lips parted as though gasping for air.

“You all knew what would happen trying to sync someone else with my mech. Are we done here?”

The rest of the preparation was done in silence. Which Joji preferred.

As he climbed up to the hatch he turned one last time.

Joji saw Rin among the crowd and he felt entranced once more. Even from this height, and so close to the Seraph’s inner workings, her fleeting glance stole him away.

He sat down into the pilot’s seat and strapped himself in. He started flicking the switches and the cockpit fell to darkness, and suddenly Joji felt at ease.

Joji’s mind took him back to that night before he had destroyed the orbital station. His life amongst the city and his friends felt as though he was continuously hiding himself, restricting his voice and his identity to fit in; either for a glimmer of understanding or affection, or perhaps he had always simply being complying with the perverse expectations of a society that he had felt forever incompatible with. And yet, despite his fleeting experience that forced him to cling onto the periphery of acceptance by burning and killing himself, he felt the overwhelming pain of guilt. He had let them down again by disappearing that night; and whilst he felt betrayed by the world and felt angry that his own meaning and trueself had never been important enough to be seen, he wondered if they were worried about him. He wondered if they would have empathy for him; he wondered if they would feel relief that there were people in the world looking to fight back against the UGA - or perhaps they were too far gone, indoctrinated by the chains of the system that kept them locked down to bleed them dry.

Joji was too aware of the shadow cast on the world by the UGA. Maybe no one would understand. Maybe people don’t want to be free. He had lived his life under the heavy burden of expectation and the painful and irritating ignorance of those around him. The world had allowed itself to be ruled by corporations and greed.

But who was he to judge?

Despite seeing more and despite feeling all that there was to be felt, he had never had the courage to walk any path other than that that was prepared for him; dictated to him - ordered for him to follow. And whilst walking that path he dared to look at others with disdain and to call them out for their lack of empathy and morality; whilst cowering in the shadows himself, yearning for the darkness to swallow and accept him as one of their own.

Foolishly compliant, no more. Maybe the price I must pay for being me is to accept that I am different - and maybe being a flicker of light in a world full of darkness is not such a bad thing; even if I must burn alone.

The crowd of people in the hangar looked up at the Seraph in anticipation. There was an unease about the silence since the hatch door on the mech had shut. The technicians were studying data and charts and numbers, but nothing was happening.

Worried glances were traded, and the silence was soon melted away by the low murmurings of discontent as impatience swelled.

Then, the sound of violent static cut through the murmurs and the room was again filled with the heavy silence of anticipation. A slow, quiet whirring because to spin from the Seraph and numbers began to fill the screens of technicians.

Suddenly, another shot of static thrashed through the hangar, and terrifying purple sparks around the Seraph were abruptly born into life. The screens began to glitch and spark as the numbers continued to spiral out of control. The whirring now pushed through the hangar like a growing blanket of sound; now only interrupted by the high pitched shrieking of alarms.

Panicked looks and scared voices trembled throughout, as the alarms reverberated through the heavy whirring and cracking lightning of the purple sparks.

And as suddenly as it had started, the whirring fell and faded into nothingness like the emptying of an ocean into the heart of the earth.

Two terrifying purple eyes were birthed into being from the shadows of the Seraph’s face.

End of Act 2

Episode 9 - Light in the Darkness

Episode 11 - Coming soon