Psycho Pass: Redemption (UPDATING)

7 (UPDATED)

The flames rose gently in the fireplace, pushing the gloom out of the room. The warmth they emanated filled the entire room with an almost unearthly warmth. He set down the book he was carrying on the small table adjacent to his couch, staring into the darkness as if he could see or hear something that was part of another dimension. At one point he heard slow footsteps in his direction, and knew who it was automatically when a quiet, old melody drifted through the room, accompanying his walk. That mansion needed an owner to give it meaning, not only hunting dogs in the garden to show off its power.

"Always reading Bertrand Russell. I would expect nothing less from you, Makishima-kun."

Makishima Shougo let out an amused smile at the comment, and raised her head towards him. As a public figure she usually wore formal clothes to maintain her reputation, however, when she was with him, she usually wore more casual attire. In this case, it was a black sweater over a light blue shirt, with simple dark pants and leather shoes. He had always been of refined manners and conveyed this in his distinguished appearance, but also in his posture and movements. La Traviata flooded the room in ecstasy as it gave way to an Italian voice. Libiamo, libiamo ne'lieti calici...

"You know me well enough to know I can't resist."

The older man gave a half smile, as he walked over to his desk and turned on the lamp above it. He liked to wipe every inch of his shotgun with a cloth, especially after one of his fox hunts. Despite the distance, he could see a faint gleam in his big green eyes, which were constantly open and never blinked.

A single glance was not enough to realize that in reality, Senguuji Toyohisa's entire body was artificial, except for his nervous system and brain. Thanks to this, he had been able to live for over a hundred years. Many respected him for his wisdom, others hated him for his dehumanization.

However, his ambition knew no bounds and he dreamed of living longer, until he reached immortality. As Makishima watched him, he could not help but think of Dorian Gray. A person who sought to live in the present, to remain forever young like a diamond shining in all its splendor. The day society achieves immortality, if it ever does, will be the end of humanity and all that made them human, for you can only appreciate life when you know the uncertainty of death. After all, games are always more terrifying, difficult and entertaining when they have a time limit, which is why Makishima loved that game called life.

He imagined Yashiro's youthful figure in the armchair in front of him, wondered if she would think like him on various issues they had not yet exposed. He sensed that behind that distant gaze hid a fascinating temperament. Would she be like a chess queen, willingly hiding her true potential? Or was she nothing more than a pawn like the others?

He imagined a world in which human beings would have transcended in such a way that they were able to govern themselves. He would do everything in his power to achieve this, because he would not wait for someone else to do it, he would not pray for a hero or trust in the afterlife or resurrection. Death was something natural that every living being had to accept. And human beings, out of desperation, just as they created cars and buildings, also created gods. However, he hoped that a few centuries later this would not happen again for the sake of humanity, nature and life itself.

The society in which they lived was plagued by people incapable of thinking and deciding for themselves, as they allowed their lives to be determined, granting them their most desired pleasures without contemplation. He could not bear to see them turned into pets that wagged their tails when they were fed, he could not accept that they preferred to remain prisoners like birds in the big cage that the system had created. Was that the price they had to pay for welfare?

Abandon all traces of individualism, knowing that this has always characterized human beings and has differentiated them, to a great extent, from all other living beings? How could they prosper without brilliant minds? What progress would they make if the population was represented by worthless, mediocre beings, who did not think of the future and lacked ideals of their own? Their personalities were projected by the system. They lived a life that was not living, they were dead in life.