damned_institute | Day 58: Lieutenant General Charles Berg's Office (Fourth Shift)

Entry tags:

Day 58: Lieutenant General Charles Berg's Office (Fourth Shift)

As his eyes combed over the latest mission reports, Berg let out a small breath in frustration. While mission #57-1 had been a success, the data delivered during #57-2 had mysteriously disappeared. There was no reason that should have happened -- the base radioed a messaged confirming the case's safe retrieval, but now it seemed like no one could give him any straight answers of what ultimately became of it. His first inclination had been to assume that those two girls had done something, but, as far as Berg knew, the discs hadn't been found among their belongings. Otherwise, their retrieval would have been undoubtedly reported to him, and the resulting punishment would have been firm and swift.

As things stood, it appeared the error hadn't been on his end. That was all the more frustrating, because it meant the outcome had rested outside of his immediate control. They would need to intensify efforts to root out every pocket of rebel influence.

"Damn," he murmured with a slight shake of his head. As he turned to tuck the files away in his cabinet, he could only hope that today's set of missions would produce a 100% success rate.

In the meantime, Berg expected another set of subjects to arrive over the course of the shift. One amazing aspect of this project was the way they'd managed to gather such a wide range of people and creatures under one roof. From what he understood, he could expect to meet with two individuals with the potential to revolutionize their respective worlds -- one a willful adolescent girl with a talent for sword duels and the drive to become a noble prince, the other an intelligent young man who possessed the power to bend and shape the will of those around him.

With two cups of steaming coffee waiting on the desk, Berg glanced at his pocket watch. His first meeting would begin at any moment.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After what he'd experienced last night, allowing himself to be led off by the soldiers had been at the very bottom of the list of things Lelouch wanted to do, but also thanks to last night, he had enough practical experience to know where attempting resistance led. The knowledge did little to reassure him as he made his way through the Sun Room and into the main hall, walking level with the soldiers to try fooling himself into thinking that he was leading (a lamb leading itself to the slaughter, was that what he'd been reduced to?), but at the very least, he no longer felt in danger of passing out. Definitely not fully recovered, then. He just hoped he didn't look too pale.

The introduction of the blindfold didn't help matters, either, and he had to focus very hard taking slow, deep breaths as one of the soldiers said something (a lie) about how Lelouch wouldn't be hurt (lying, lying, lying, lying) and that a superior officer simply wanted to meet with him. Really, how stupid did they think he was?

He had just mentally resolved o hell with it, I'm running when a sudden wave of dizziness (no, vertigo, and where had he felt that before?) struck him, and he very nearly stumbled, his hand jerking toward his blindfold before he could stop himself. No reprimand for touching it came, though, and he pulled it away, revealing his left eye first.

"Explain yourself," he snapped, Geass flaring to life. It wouldn't work if this man was who the soldiers claimed, especially if his eyes remained trained on that watch of his, but Lelouch was beyond caring. The fact that his Geass was activating at all was something of a puzzle, too, but one he would address later.

Edited 2011-08-31 02:30 (UTC)

Berg heard the subject stirring from across the room once he appeared. The moment the young man came out with that authoritative order, Berg simply closed his watch and looked up at his guest with a polite expression. Perhaps he was hoping to use that power of his, but he'd soon find that he'd have to get information from Berg the traditional way.

"My soldiers should have told you what was going on," he calmly explained. "Although, if they handled you roughly in any way, please tell me, and I'll see to it that they're put on report." The last thing he needed was to start these meetings off on the wrong foot. His discussion with an enraged Mr. Sechs had been tiring enough.

Tucking the watch into his pocket now, Berg fully turned himself toward the subject. "In any case, feel free to take a seat, Mr. Lamperouge," he offered, gesturing toward the empty chair across from him. "Our time is short, and I'm sure we have plenty of things to discuss now that we have the opportunity to talk in person."

Nothing, then. Predictable.

Lelouch let the power fade and turned his attention to the office itself, gaze searching. No sign of any medical equipment. No sign of that doctor. She may well be lurking in some corner or cabinet, but all the same, he let (forced) himself to relax a little. The coffee sitting at the desk, clearly intended for him, was far too generous to not arouse suspicion, but the chair... if they hadn't already had ample opportunity to subdue him, drug him, and/or restrain him, he might have dismissed that, too. With that in mind, though, the coffee-- unless it was a drug that specifically had to be ingested willingly? But there was no reason why they would have to operate with that sort of restriction, not with the technology at their disposal. So...

The silent contemplation didn't take more than a few seconds, and fluidly, he closed the distance between himself and the chair and settled into it. "Not to worry. I wasn't mistreated." Today, at least, and if the man wasn't aware of that, he was a bigger fool than even the Head Doctor had been. "May I ask what I did to deserve this honor?" Assuming he had done anything at all. For all he knew, his name had been drawn out of a hat, but given his activities, he wouldn't be surprised if he had caught their notice.

As the subject crossed the room and took a seat, Berg lifted his steaming mug of coffee and took a small sip. "Good, glad to hear it," he said. He was privately thankful that he didn't need soldiers to restrain Mr. Lamperouge. Having to resort to such clumsy methods in order to keep the subject from getting himself into trouble changed the flavor of the entire conversation. Everyone who came into his office was already aware of the power imbalance between them -- no need to rub their noses in it unless he had to.

"I recently began speaking with others such as yourself in an effort to learn more about you as individuals rather than names and faces in a file," Berg pleasantly replied. "You're not the first person I've seen today. So far I haven't relied on any particular criteria when scheduling appointments. Everyone kept within the institute holds some measure of interest to us, or else they wouldn't be here in the first place."

Placing his coffee mug back onto the desk, he offered a polite smile. "At any rate, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Lieutenant General Charles Berg. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lamperouge."

In other words, he technically outranked Berg. Salt on the wound, as far as Lelouch was concerned, especially when he'd been escorted here like an unruly schoolboy to the principal's office, but he was determined not to let it visibly bother him. That was easy, of course, as was staring at Berg like he was only slightly interesting. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, but he wasn't relaxed or here willingly, either, and nothing could stop him from dropping that particular act.

"And you, Lieutenant General. Since reawakening here, I have held a great interest in the military presence at Landel's. I understand that you didn't bring me here to indulge that curiosity, however, so please, let me know how I can assist you. Is there something in particular you wished to know?" And didn't know already? There couldn't be much, if last night's experiment was anything to go by, but at the very least, the exact nature of Berg's inquiry might give him some idea of what the man was looking for. Learning about them as individuals was bullshit; there had to be some reason Lelouch and the others (if there had been any others) had been called here.

"For the most part, you're free to direct our conversation as you wish," Berg replied, apparently not bothered by the young man's outward show of vague disinterest. "Of course, there are some matters that are off-limits, but I'll outright say so if we touch on anything like that. I didn't call you in here just to spread misinformation." There was no use in turning this into an interrogation or anything like that, either. If they wanted to pry information from their subjects that badly, there were easily other methods of doing so.

"There is one thing I'd like to ask you about, though," the officer added. "As you can imagine, we have a wide range of resources at our disposal. For the most part, we're aware of resources concerning the man known as Marc, and are monitoring his involvement with Dr. Landel. However, some of our information concerning his activities during Dr. Landel's time here is...well, a bit lacking."

Linking his fingers together on top of the desk's surface, he fixed the subject with a calm, steady gaze. "What I'd like to know is this: what can you tell me about this man's activities before General Aguilar assumed full command of this facility?"

Then what, was he doing this to improve PR? Lelouch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Assuming, of course, that Berg were capable of winning him over, there might be an actual point to that (if not a very good one, considering the continuing nighttime activities), but since he wasn't... were they simply in search of data as he had more or less claimed, then? It seemed a little too similar to the daytime therapy sessions, which made Lelouch want to dismiss the theory (from what he'd learned of the military so far, that seemed more Dr. Landel's style than theirs), but if they had adopted the method or this was actually some bizarre extension of that initial experiment...

The impossibility of proving anything really did get frustrating sometimes.

"Marc. I've heard of him, yes." In far less detail than he would have liked, which was yet another thing he had to work to correct. At least that meant he could remain fairly honest during this part of the conversation. Maybe. "Unfortunately, I haven't much to report apart from the fact that he and Landel were working against one another before your arrival." Among other things. What, was he supposed to make this easy for them?

Most subjects here had at least heard of him. The man didn't make his presence a secret, particularly with all those radio broadcasts he gave. Considering the subject's previous absences, it was possible he really wasn't up to speed with some of his more blatant activities from before Aguilar's arrival.

"I see," the officer replied. "Well, we've been able to gather that much on our own. We've also recently learned he's managed to make contact with some of you individually in the past." From an informant, no less, but there was no use in sharing that.

"I'm willing to make life more comfortable for those with valuable information," Berg continued. "Something to consider for when you've obtained something more useful -- or, if you change your mind, as the case may be." There really was no way to tell whether subjects knew as much as they let on (not without getting a bit unpleasant, at least), but Berg still let the offer stand.

So it came out at last. This was why they had called him, unless by some miracle Berg wasn't lying about those other meetings. Even then, to say something like this-- had they truly become that desperate for information? The technology at Marc's disposal had to be impressive if it could foil their efforts for this long. All the more reason to assist him, most likely, but then if they truly had been driven to this point, then... was this meeting a warning? An offer, one last chance for Lelouch to give up what he knew willingly before they resorted to force? More warnings or offers might be forthcoming, as far as he knew, but again, he wasn't as well acquainted with how this military did things as he would like. This could be his only chance or his first in a long string of chances, it was impossible to tell. So...

"'More comfortable,'" he echoed. Something petty and meaningless like the return of the old menu, no doubt. How utterly pathetic, unless Berg, Aguilar, and all the rest of them had actually done their homework. Lelouch would never bow his head to them, of course, and would never stop seeking his escape with what was at stake in his world, but to be comfortable, all they had to do was offer... well, a few things. A few impossible things.

"Do you take me for a fool, Lieutenant General?"

"Not at all," Berg simply replied, not bothered by the young man's blunt response. "We have other methods of finding out what we need to know if absolutely necessary. I simply wanted to provide you with the opportunity to share anything, but I can see you're not interested."

No harm done. Berg had no intention of begging or groveling for information. There were always others. He'd already secured the cooperation of one subject, after all. And even if he hadn't, it wouldn't make much of a difference in the end. This was simply the easier and more pleasant way.

"We can use this time however you'd like," Berg added. "In fact, if you'd rather, I could even go ahead and send you back with the others. It's your choice."

Other methods. Lelouch resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that, thoroughly unimpressed. Could Berg possibly be any more predictable? It hardly mattered, though; the topic seemed to have been dropped for now. Lelouch wasn't so naive that he thought it was gone entirely, but he could at least focus on something else for the rest of this meting.

"That won't be necessary, although I must admit I see little point in continuing this conversation if you're not at liberty to reveal anything that may be of interest to me." Or anyone, for that matter, but the distinction wasn't one he cared to make. "I may be willing to pass on a message, however, should you have anything in mind."

Anything that would be of interest? Well, if Mr. Lamperogue didn't want to at least try, then that was his decision. "I personally don't have any problems sharing as much as possible, but I can't reveal anything that would cause a breach in security or compromise our plans. That's simply how it is."

Some lines just couldn't be crossed, especially when they had so much at stake. At the very least, however, he could give his word as an officer that he wouldn't lie to them about anything. He also always kept his promises. As distasteful as this whole program could be, Berg hadn't allowed himself to forget those basic virtues.

When Mr. Lamperogue made his offer, Berg slightly arched an eyebrow. "A message," he echoed. "You mean to the others." It was spoken more like a statement than a question, but mostly because he just wanted to clarify what the young man was saying.

"To the others here, yes. Patients, prisoners, test subjects, however you might refer to them." Us, but it might help to encourage Berg to think of Lelouch as separate to the others trapped here, and yes, this was his way of attempting to pry without the man noticing. Berg could not have reached his rank without knowing the value of discretion, and he wasn't guarding his tongue around Lelouch, of all people, he was a bigger moron than he appeared. Fortunately, even morons had their uses.

"Unless you planned on saving a general announcement to after you had finished your appointments, that is," he added as an afterthought, sending Berg a sidelong glance. "I take it you had planned on continuing them?"

Berg had a tendency to inwardly refer to them as "subjects" himself, but he had enough discretion to avoid using the phrase to their faces. It wouldn't help with building any sort of beneficial ties, and the officer wasn't fond of purposely riling up his guests. People had little interest in cooperating if they were too busy yelling to think, after all.

"I do plan on continuing these appointments, yes," he answered after a moment. "However, any general announcements can easily be made over the intercom or posted onto the board by one of my people." After grasping onto his coffee mug, Berg took a small sip of his cooling coffee.

"I appreciate your offer," he genuinely added, "but I'm afraid it's not necessary to pass any messages along right now."

It had been a quiet day thus far, which Utena had actually been a little glad for. After the night previous, a day with no tough conversations or strange things happening was probably what she'd needed. Just as Utena had been getting up for a much-desired shower, however, she was approached by two men in uniform. They led her out of the Sun Room and into the hall, and upon demanding to know what they wanted her for, she was informed that some commanding officer wanted to speak with her. This might not have been so bad if the very next thing hadn't been the soldiers stuffing a blindfold over her eyes before she could even get a word in.

Despite their assurances that she wouldn't be hurt, Utena was none too happy, to put it mildly, and made sure they knew it. "Do you really need to do this? This is stupid!" she protested as the men led her forward. "Just let me walk on my own! Where are we even going? Hey!" She didn't get to say much beyond that, unfortunately, as a small wave of nausea overtook her, not unlike what she had felt going through doors with Ruby. Utena groaned quietly, putting a hand to her head when the soldier let go of her arm.

And just like that, the blindfold was off, and she was in a completely different room. As her vision came back into focus, she saw a man sitting behind a desk in high-ranking military garb, complete with a fancy hat and medals on the wall behind him. It didn't take a genius to guess that this was whoever wanted to see her. It also didn't take a genius to figure out that she had been teleported here, and there was probably no getting out of this now. Great.

"You sure have some way of making a girl feel welcome," she said, narrowing her eyes at the man. High-ranked or not, she wasn't going to act subservient or cowed, if that's what he was expecting. The people who ran this place weren't worth that, no matter how powerful they were. "Who are you, anyway? And why do you want to see me?"

Edited 2011-08-31 02:59 (UTC)

The moment Utena Tenjou appeared in the room, Berg finished swallowing a sip of his coffee and placed his pocket watch down onto his desk. Just in time, as always. At the very least, he didn't have to worry about anyone arriving too early and catching him in the middle of reviewing some paperwork.

"Hello, Miss Tenjou," he greeted with a cordial smile, apparently unruffled by her displeasure. "I apologize for springing this on you at the last moment. We have security measures, you see, and so my people couldn't give you much warning."

Regardless, she'd asked for his name, and he agreed it was only polite that he introduce himself. "I'm Lieutenant General Charles Berg," he answered. "I recently decided to meet with some of you face-to-face. This isn't an interrogation or anything nasty like that, so don't be alarmed." Gesturing toward the empty chair in front of his seat, he politely inclined his head in invitation. "Please, why don't you have a seat?"

The officer was being... nice to her? Utena hadn't expected that, but tried not to let it throw her for long. She knew plenty of people (coughTougacoughNanamicough) who acted plenty nice, but later showed their true, nasty colours under the right circumstances. If this Lieutenant General Charles Berg was working to keep the Institute running as it was, he definitely couldn't be all that "nice" at the core, Utena figured.

"Thanks, but I prefer to stand," Utena answered carefully, crossing her arms and not moving another step forward just yet. "And what made you decide that, huh? And why me? Does this have something to do with last night?"

If it did have something to do with the drugs, then Utena was going to have a lot more questions for him. Specifically what the hell made the Institute think it was okay to test out drugs on patients that caused people to become monstrous or murderous.

Edited 2011-08-31 04:14 (UTC)

She was the first person to refuse his invitation to sit. Really, there wasn't anything to be gained in being so difficult about it, but Berg saw no reason to pressure her. "Well, if that's more comfortable for you, then by all means," he said with a small shrug.

When Miss Tenjou demanded more answers, specifically in regards to whether her activities last night brought her here, Berg shook his head.

"No, no, nothing like that," he assured her. "I just wanted to talk to some of you personally in an effort to better understand your situation. A file doesn't really say everything about a person, wouldn't you agree?"

Truth be told, Utena did prefer to stand, even outside situations like this; she got restless just sitting in one place for too long. That said, the situation wasn't doing much to convince her that she ought to sway from her preferences just yet.

So was Berg saying that this meeting really was just random, then? Utena didn't know if she bought that, but it sounded like Berg wasn't going to be changing his answer on that, so she let it be. Instead, she let her attention get drawn to the rest of what Berg had said. "Well here I am," she said, sweeping one arm in front of her quickly. "You got what you wanted — no file, just me. Shoot, then. What do you want to know that it can't tell you?"

By her tone and expression, the invitation to ask her questions wasn't entirely an open one. Whatever he asked, she mainly just wanted him to stop dancing around whatever the point of all this was already. If Berg had truly wanted to "understand her situation", she thought, he and his Institute friends wouldn't have spirited her away from Ohtori in the first place. Her teeth grit together faintly as she waited for his answer.

Edited 2011-09-04 07:31 (UTC)

"To be honest, I'd rather you mostly direct the conversation." Berg leaned back in his seat, resting his hands against the chair's arm rests. "I said that I'm not interested in turning this into an interrogation, and I meant it."

Sometimes a person could learn more by simply listening, rather than trying to pry and dig. Of course, that didn't mean Berg wanted to do away with questions altogether, but he didn't want them to become the focus of their conversation, either.

"There is one thing I'd like to ask, but you're free to not answer," he added. "Mainly, I'm curious to hear what you may know about the man named Marc."

Utena couldn't help the slight tense of her body at the mention of Marc's name.

She had almost been ready to believe that Berg really didn't mean anything else by this meeting. From his tone and mannerisms, he did seem to mean what he said, at least as far as Utena could tell. But no. This was about maybe getting a lead on one of the military's number one enemies. And now she had to wonder: did they know? Was that why she had been sent up here — because they somehow knew that she'd seen him? It was possible. Berg wasn't telling either way, though.

And there wasn't much point in answering him regardless of his motives, either. She wasn't going to give the military any info, even if they tried to force it out of her. So, she pointedly ignored the subject of Marc for the time being. It was probably safer to say nothing than to accidentally say the wrong thing. "So if I get to direct this, does that mean you'll answer questions if I have them?" she asked, raising a pink eyebrow. "Like what would you say if I asked you where a girl named Himemiya Anthy was right now?"

The way she'd ignored the question wasn't lost on Berg. That was fine, though. He didn't acknowledge her silence on the issue, either. It was unfortunate that she didn't feel the need to use the situation to her advantage, but the officer didn't see any point in forcing the issue.

"I'd say that she was outside the institute, alive, safe and healthy," Berg replied. "Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to give you her personal information beyond that, but I can promise you she's not locked up or being held prisoner anywhere now." Given Ms. Tenjou's records, it wasn't so surprising that she'd ask after that particular subject, and so Berg had been prepared for it.

"In other words," he added as he reached for his mug, "I'll answer whatever questions you have to the best of my ability, but specific details may be too confidential to discuss. Rather than lying about anything, though, I'll just tell you if there's something I can't talk about."

Utena listened intently, watching as well as she could for any sign that he might be lying. Truth be told, though, she had no idea what she was looking for. It wasn't like she was some savant at reading people. She had to convince herself that she was doing something, though, and not just accepting whatever the military man said without question. Himemiya deserved more than just quiet acceptance, damn it.

Still, despite her efforts, she couldn't tell a thing about what Berg may or may not have been thinking. He didn't seem to be lying, anyway. He wasn't showing much emotion, but he was polite enough; if he hadn't been wearing that uniform, he might even have come off as pleasant in certain moments. She might have suspected an act, but Berg hadn't slipped out of his persona even for a second. Either he really was that good, or he really was telling the truth. And as much as Utena hated to admit it, it was easier to believe that Berg was telling the truth over believing that anyone was that good an actor.

That didn't mean she had to like the truth, either way. "Well how about telling me what 'alive, safe and healthy' outside the Institute means, huh?" Utena let her arms go back to her sides as she took a step forward, fists balling up faintly. "You mean she's one of those visitors, don't you? She's wherever Akio and Nanami and all the other people who have their minds scrambled are." Doyleton, I bet, her mind supplied. It was the only place they could be if they were outside the Institute somewhere and not locked up. "You call that healthy? It's sick and wrong! How can you do that to people? I've felt what it's like to be the way those visitors are before, and I felt like I'd just surfaced from drowning or something when I came to my senses!

"And Himemiya's already been pushed around in a life that isn't her own enough before this!" she went on, feeling more incensed with every word. "It's one thing to be stuck here, but at least here she could make her own choices, not 'Delilah''s or whoever's!"

Edited 2011-09-06 23:51 (UTC)

Berg patiently listened to Miss Tenjou's heated response. Her concern for the other young girl was quite touching. Unfortunately, it would do her little good in this place -- except, perhaps, give her extra incentive to cling onto her identity and prolong her stay here for as long as possible. That was difficult to say for sure, though. Every individual was different in his or her own way.

"She's healthy according to the definitions set by our society," he answered once he'd taken a small sip of his coffee. "Rather than being used as an object in some bizarre sword duel, she's living a normal, productive life in a peaceful place far from here. No monsters, no doctors, no experiments -- none of that."

It was never enough to have their friends away from the horrendous creatures, the syringes, the lab-coat-clad scientists -- happy lives didn't cut it so long as their previous identities were nothing but a faded memory. Berg supposed he could understand the sentiment, although these days he found those sorts of ideas impractical.

"In fact," he added as he rested his hands on top of his desk, "if she heard you speaking right now, I'd wager she'd disagree with what you were saying."

Oh that did it.

Utena slammed her hands down on the desk. "Don't talk about her like you know what she'd want!" I don't even know what she'd want, and I'm her friend! a voice chimed inside Utena's mind, livid that Berg would even pretend to know. "It's not like I want her here or being the Rose Bride or something either, but that doesn't make stripping out everything else about her okay! How hard is that to see? Why can't she just be a normal girl called Himemiya Anthy for once in her life?!"

A sharp sense of deja vu pricked at the back of Utena's thoughts at that, but she ignored it in favour of righteous indignation.

Berg didn't find Miss Tenjou's outburst particularly amusing. Perhaps, if he had been drunk on his own power, it might have been an entertaining few minutes out of his day of endless red tape and bureaucracy. Of course, he wasn't that sort of officer, and so he found the girl's words more wearisome than anything else.

These sorts of youthful tirades were never pleasant -- not only because they rarely accomplished anything productive, but also because Berg knew he didn't have anything that would satisfy them. Naturally, that wasn't his problem, but he still didn't enjoy dealing with it. It reminded him too much of how he might have reacted many years ago if he'd known he'd eventually wind up helping command such a project.

But that was a long time ago, back when he was still naive: before the General had fully taken him under his wing, and before he'd personally come to realize what they needed to do.

"I can understand your feelings," Berg remarked after a moment, his expression carefully composed as he regarded the girl in front of him. "There's a lot about this world that isn't fair or right. Yet I'm still duty-bound to protect it, which is why I'm a soldier. What happens in this facility isn't meaningless or without a cause. Otherwise, we wouldn't spend so much energy and money maintaining it."

Oh well that was just great then, wasn't it? Life wasn't fair, and Berg "understood" her feelings. Obviously that meant it was okay to just dismiss Himemiya's identity without batting an eye. Was Berg kidding her?

Still, she could help but pause when the Lietenant General spoke of duty and protection. It didn't quell her rage entirely, but those were terms Utena understood a little bit better at least. She could understand what it meant to want to protect something or someone more than anything in the world. She still didn't understand how that could possibly justify what was going on, though. How could Berg possibly sleep at night with all this going on?

Her chest still quaked faintly as her fingers pressed down into the desk surface. "And what is so important that it means sacrificing that many people's senses of self? Or trapping people, telling them that they're crazy, forcing them to face these... these horrors night after night, and then not telling them what it's all for?"

Utena stared Berg right in the eyes. "What meaning or cause is there in that kind of duty?" she asked, daring him to give her an evasive answer with her fiery gaze.

Miss Tenjou was understandably still upset about her friend's predicament, but at least she didn't require the presence of other soldiers. Berg didn't avert his gaze, instead looking at her head on as she asked her question.

"Let me be clear about one thing: I didn't design this facility, this program, or anything that goes on here," he said after a moment. If he had, Berg suspected it would have been far different, but that wasn't a conversation for either here or now. "Of course, I'm not saying I play no part in this, either. Obviously, the fact someone else put this together doesn't diminish my involvement in it, or else we wouldn't be talking together today."

Bridging his fingers together, he sat up straighter in his seat. "But my duty as a soldier requires that I do whatever is asked of me in order to protect our people," he continued. "Tell me, Miss Tenjou: if you were given two choices -- oversee a program like this one, or leave your world and everyone in it to suffer a horrible fate -- would you be so quick to abandon those you were charged to defend?"

Utena didn't back down when Berg looked her in the eye, or when he countered with how he hadn't designed any of this. It didn't matter if he hadn't been part of this at the start. He was participating in it now, wasn't he? He'd had a choice to back away from it and he hadn't. That's how Utena saw it. Just because Berg hadn't decided which tortures went into which spots, that didn't mean he wasn't one of the torturers.

That Berg admitted as much didn't do much for his position. What did, however, was the question that came next. Utena did waver some as the sadistic choice was presented to her. A horrible fate...? she thought, blue eyes blinking in uncertainty. Was she hearing that right?

Her first instinct was to ask what the hell Berg was talking about. What kind of "horrible fate" did he mean? Another emotion, however, surged over that one like a wave of lava bursting up from the depths, the girl prince's barely-contained indignation rearing its head once more. "I would find some other way," said Utena through grit teeth. She took in a deep, quaking breath, raising her voice as she went on: "There's no way there are only two options in that situation! A true and noble person never gives up on anyone, no matter what! Not on the people in their world, and not on the people stuck in limbo either!"

She didn't care how naive that might have sounded. She wasn't even thinking about that. All she was thinking was that however hard the military was trying — whatever they thought could save more people from suffering — they sure as hell weren't trying hard enough yet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 58: Lieutenant General Charles Berg's Office (Fourth Shift)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject