Dawn Office Fixer Sinclair/Identity Story
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Speaker | Dialogue |
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![]() Sinclair |
You know, you could try different kinds of tea once in a while. Is my ssanghwa-cha really that delicious? |
Master answers teasingly as though I was asking him the most obvious question in the world. My seonbae will be back from a contract soon, so I open the window wide for her return. | |
![]() Sinclair |
Seonbae said she'll just be making a quick stop at the workshop, so I don't suppose she'll be long. |
Days without contracts were always so peaceful. | |
Chatting about the day-to-day goings-on with my master while sipping on a cup of ssanghwa-cha. Worrying about our next month's rent with my seonbae, who should be here any minute. | |
It was a warm and gentle hour, not unlike the cold dawn of our Office's namesake. | |
I enjoyed that hour. | |
I was making decent progress as a Fixer, too. | |
Under the skillful guidance of my master, I learned the basics of being a Fixer, things I should know if I was really serious about working in this field, and the tricks of using Stigma Workshop's weapons. | |
Whichever contract we picked up, we managed. It was mostly thanks to my master and seonbae's excellent skills, but still. Results begot recognition, and I naturally rose through the Fixer ranks. | |
… A proof that I was slowly bettering myself. | |
But… | |
![]() Sinclair |
Didn't really get to do anything in this contract, either… |
My master was once a prominent Fixer during the Smoke War. My seonbae once took care of an Urban Legend contract all on her own. | |
Between these two giants of our Dawn Office, my earnest efforts amounted to nothing but a struggle not to fall behind. | |
The two of them always assured me that I wasn't useless. That I was helpful. But all that reassurance rang hollow. | |
![]() Sinclair |
We got the Invitation…? It's that Urban Plague, 'The Library', isn't it…? |
![]() Sinclair |
Will I be going with you? |
![]() Sinclair |
Am I even going to be of any help to you two there…? |
My self-doubt grew with no end. | |
And with it, my faith in the two of them did as well. Too much. | |
![]() Sinclair |
I guess I won't have to do much more than provide them some basic support… |
The faith that the two of them had this in the bag. That I wasn't really that necessary. | |
And with such shallow, selfish presumption… | |
… I walked into the Library. | |
My master, who was so worried about me to the end. | |
My seonbae, who refused to blame me for anything nor show any fear in face of the end. | |
Even Fixers of the affiliate Office who offered me help. | |
All were vanquished by the Library, each and every one of them turned into a book. | |
Everyone I'd grown so used to always being there for me… were gone. I alone survived. | |
![]() Sinclair |
Gah… Haah… |
I consider if there's any point in me going back in there to fight them. | |
![]() Sinclair |
The fabricated heart isn't so bad…? No. That can't be. |
I consider escaping, reporting everything I've seen here to an Association, and then asking them for help. That would be the most logical thing to do, right? | |
![]() Sinclair |
Y-you're right. No one really understood my true feelings. |
Fear grips me. It holds me back from moving on; I slowly retreat. | |
![]() Sinclair |
… Will this path really bring me nothing but suffering? |
A beautiful voice whispers comfort in my ears with every withdrawing step I take. | |
Then, all of a sudden… | |
… I begin to wonder if everything I'd ever done were nothing more than self-serving justifications. | |
And with it comes the inkling of an understanding that I will never be able to forge on so long as I continue protecting and embellishing myself with the shield of others. | |
That the right path is the honest, forward path. Not the stuttering retreat disguised as selflessness. | |
I accept that I wasn't even on a righteous path. | |
That I am a squalid, hideous person. | |
I admit it. I admit that I'm as uncaring and selfish as any other City dweller… | |
… and I cease my retreat. | |
![]() Sinclair |
If I were to close my heart to everyone else… turn my back on them… could I truly love myself more? |
![]() Sinclair |
I don't know. I'm just… I just don't know. |
Shield my eyes from apprehension. | |
Plug my ears from the beautiful voice. | |
Shut my mouth from the lies that I do this out of altruism. | |
I convince myself that the unembellished reality is no more heartless than my self-serving daydreams… | |
… and turn to face the battlefield I had fled from. | |
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How unfortunate… | |
The child failed to reveal his true self. He even fell short of full self-restraint. | |
![]() Sinclair |
… No one's going to cry on behalf of my sorrow. |
![]() Sinclair |
At the end of the day, this pain is my responsibility to bear. |
![]() Sinclair |
Because it is an indelible stigma. |
If only the child gave greater care to his own emotions. | |
He faced his feelings, and all of its hellish flames, and honed it all into a form of a tool. | |
The child failed to reach his pure self; instead, he remained the form of a human, and directed the tip of his sword against his enemies. | |
That's okay. | |
I once knew a child who was very much like him. A child who, even for a fleeting moment, reached the apex. | |
That child also ignored me the first time… only to lend me his ears later. | |
They are very similar to one another. So, I suppose a similar end shall await this one at the end of his path. | |
The child will eventually give up on forging onward. And he will retreat once again. | |
![]() Sinclair |
You're wrong, Miss Carmen. |
![]() Sinclair |
I'm afraid. I'm so afraid that I want to let go of this blade and flee this place at this very moment. |
![]() Sinclair |
But I don't want to linger her any longer. |
But that path is such a painful one to walk. I wish that he wouldn't subject himself to such suffering. | |
The child, now freed from his shell, dangerously attempts to reach for the heavens when he has but a lone wing. | |
Not knowing that his shaky consciousness was the only thing keeping his wing intact in the flames that devoured his emotions as fuel. | |
He confidently regards the children of the Library, his sword-arm outstretched to meet their reception. | |
![]() Sinclair |
This feeling… is destiny bestowed upon me. |
![]() Sinclair |
… I have to soar. |
![]() Sinclair |
I will break this shell that stands in my way. I'll break it altogether and soar to a higher place. |
How long will it be until that solitary wing of vanity melts into nothingness under the cascading emotions? | |
There is no way to know for now. But on the day of your wing's melting, on the day of your fall… | |
… heed my words once again, dear child. |
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