chroma | WEEK ONE: EXECUTION

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!execution

WEEK ONE: EXECUTION

EXECUTION: KAZUMA ASOGI

Sunday morning starts peacefully enough, until around noon, when alarms start going off on your phones. The dreadful noise is accompanied by a reminder of the execution taking place in the Central Node. You can snooze the alarms at first, but they begin to get a little more insistent. If you're being stubborn, you can probably hold out until exactly 1 PM, when an archway opens right in front of you and pulls you in.

Unlike last week's pizza party, today the Central Node is eerily quiet and empty. There are a few blankets laid out on the grass for those of you who wish to sit instead of standing the whole time. No refreshments have been provided, but the Residents are already there waiting for you.

As the last person enters the node, an enormous archway suddenly opens. This archway once again leads to an area which is pitch black inside, with white and grey dust falling softly like snow. The chilly air feels even colder than before, and you instinctively know you must not approach it. If you try to push through anyway, something is blocking your way. Smaller tears to the same space open in the air, at the very least. You can see what's happening, even if you can't follow.

Because - once the archway is open, Kazuma alone will begin to walk through as though drawn. All you can do now is watch and wait.

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[he reaches and touches her shoulder. he can feel the silk of the kimono on his hand, but underneath it, he can't feel the warmth of a living, breathing human being. he can't feel any motion, not even a reaction to the gesture, not even a hesitation. he can't feel any pulse or any sense of breath rising and falling. this close, he can see her eyes, half lidded looking down, frozen on the page, not blinking.

the text of the encyclopedia page in front of her explains the history of foreign exchange students in the british judicial system.]

Judicial Assistant Mikotoba...!

[ this is very worrying, actually? kazuma searches for a pulse, trying to figure out why she isn't breathing..... ]

[ but his eyes can't help but fall to the pages of the encyclopedia as he does this. ]

[he searches for a pulse, but he can't find one. her skin, to his touch, is lifeless, cold and waxy. as he tries to move her, her head falls off her body and rolls on the floor.

because she's made of wax. kazuma isn't sure why he thought he could feel warmth or smell cooking in the air. there's something about this entire room that doesn't feel right. it feels artificial somehow, staged. there's even a door near the back that he can't remember ever existing there, that doesn't feel as though it fits within the mikotoba family home.

a disembodied voice from somewhere kazuma can't see speaks.]

This exhibit depicts Kazuma Asogi as a lawyer in Japan, before the fateful events of his life would unfold.

[ it takes a moment for his brain to recognize that she's wax, as he panics briefly and scrabbles for her head to put it back on her body (as if that would do anything) ]

[ but then he freezes. ]

[ did he never... wake up? from that nightmare? where is that voice coming from? ]

What is this? I'm not a display!

[ he sees the door in the corner of his eye, but for the moment, he's just trying to find the source of the void. ]

[he shouts, but nothing happens. he puts susato's head back on her body. she's still as ever, reading serenely. nothing moves or changes in the room. everything is posed as it should be. and he can see an outline on the floor, a spot meant just for him, where he can stand and fit in perfectly with the scene.

on the other hand, there's always the door. a sign hangs above it.

This way! Learn the True Story of Asogi, Famed Murderer]

[ despite the panic in his voice, despite the anger -- despite the fact that it isn't really susato, he still replaces her head with a very tender gentleness. ]

[ then his hand flies to the hilt of his sword. yeah, though he has karuma by his side, there's no enemy to fight. he sees the outline, something in his stomach clenches. ]

[ no. this isn't his scene. he can't stay here. ]

[ he takes off running, towards the door. ]

[he goes through the door. inside, there's another scene in progress. he can see that he's inside a room made to look like the cabin of a ship. there's an outline of a body drawn on the floor. inside, wax figures that look like susato and ryunosuke kneel next to the outline, shock on their frozen faces.

the wax figure of a sailor guards the door, and a wax figure of a detective examines the wardrobe in the back of the room. all of them are stock still, not moving, although occasionally out of the corner of the eye it almost looks like the detective has briefly dropped his pose and moved someplace else in the scene.

there's no place for kazuma here, either, though. no reason to stop. another door waits for him in the back.

Through here! Learn the entire terrifying tale, and finally know the truth! ]

[ yeah, this scene is quite familiar, though he never knew how the rest of it played out. ]

[ he especially doesn't want to stop here, that day everything almost came to an end -- ]

[ this is a farce of his mission, truly. but he can't stay. ]

[ he keeps running. ]

[he keeps running. past a scene that depicts a baroque office, a small desk in the corner for work or study, past a scene that depicts a mass of clockwork, ticking and ticking down the minutes and hours. that's no place to stop, either. not there.

as he opens a door (the sign above it reads Fact or Fiction? Witness the horrific events for yourself, and you decide!) there are two rooms past here.

he can peer through the doorway to the first one. it appears to be the scene on the ship again, and by the markings on the floor, he can see that there's a place for him in there. it's dark, he can't make out much, but he can see that a dark figure in a long coat is posed, lying on the ground, and even though he can't seem to make out the exact details, there's fear on the wax figure's face. the weight of karuma feels heavy, suddenly. the sound of a clock ticking grows louder in here. tick. tick. tick.

inside the second room he can see only darkness, the sound of footfalls. he can hear a voice in there, calling. a voice that sounds almost like ryunosuke.

which door does he go through? a sign above the first door says The Truth?. a sign above the second reads You Decide.]

[ even if he didn't know what would await him through the other door, hearing an approximation of ryunosuke's voice is enough. ]

[ karuma feels like a heavy weight, as do his legs. his heartbeat matches the ticks as they pound in his ears, in his head ]

[ he feels an invisible hand squeezing on his chest. then the voice, calling him. ]

[ (he couldn't pull ryunosuke out of his own darkness, that night. as hard as he tried, he couldn't break through. but hearing his voice like this---) ]

[ he heads into the unknown, into the darkness. if ryunosuke is there, then... ]

[ maybe there's hope for kazuma yet. ]

[the room he enters is dark. he can't see anything, he can't feel anything except the steps he takes on rough ground. his legs feel heavy, his arms feel heavy. everything is heavy, unnatural. he hears that voice again, the voice that sounds like ryunosuke, call out, but it sounds very far away. he keeps walking, almost automatically, following that pull, that feeling.

he stumbles forward, and his hand, holding karuma thrusts out and finds purchase somewhere, sinks in -

the lights flicker on. the scene he's in is a cliffside, in the darkness, the sound of bubbling water nearby. his feet are planted awkwardly on the rocks, he feels frozen and heavy, suddenly, unable to move. just past him is the ledge. posed on the side of the ledge, as though frozen permanently, about to take a tumble over the side, is the wax figure of ryunosuke, karuma plunged through its chest. a pool of blood on the ground, blood coating the blade, looking as though it means to drip but the blood drops never quite fall. ryunosuke's wax face is twisted in pain and despair, captured forever in this final moment. there's the sound of his voice again, a cry, artificial, as though played on a loop.

a disembodied voice, a spectator somewhere in the distance that he can't quite see, explains.]

This exhibit depicts the dramatic moment, where Kazuma Asogi finally surrendered to his murderous impulses.

[ the tick, tick, tick continues to echo in his head as he steps forward into the darkness. his knuckles are white around karuma's hilt, every step becomes harder and harder. ]

[ but he keeps striding forward. there's a voice in his head telling him he must go on. he must reach ryunosuke. and so he does. because he's never been one to ever give up, even having lost everything, even who he is. ]

[ except, well... it seems he's reached his journey's end. ]

[ ryunosuke's face twists in pain and despair -- the cry echoes in his mind, just as it did that fateful night. ]

[ kazuma's own expression is contorted, fearsome, like a wild beast. just as it was that night, too. he looks something of a demon, himself. as much as he tries to change his expression to match his true feelings -- similarly horrified, despairing, and pained, he cannot. ]

[ he can't move one muscle. ]

[ only one thing stands out in his grotesque tableau, otherwise a near perfect wax depiction of what happened. ]

[ tears are streaming down his cheeks. ]

The twisted murderer is depicted here coldly murdering the man who once called him his best friend.

[and that's the end of the story.

or is it. as kazuma stands there, he will find he does not have to stay here. there's still motion in his hands, he hasn't turned all the way to wax. he cannot seem to pull karuma out of the motionless wax corpse, but he can let go of the blade. he can move his legs and leave this scene.

there's still another door towards the back. he can sense there's something inside it. an escape. a sign above it reads Is this really how the tale ends?

or he can stay here if he prefers. after all, can he really claim he doesn't belong in this scene?]

[ honestly, he can't claim he doesn't belong in this scene. every second after the trial ended, it's been replaying in his head. just the sight of ryunosuke's face in that horrified expression, as karuma plunges through his chest... his blood spilled on the seamless steel of his family's sword -- the only thing left of kazuma's father. ]

[ but. ]

[ he has the strength to move, still. so he goes. his eyes remain rooted at the scene, but he keeps walking. it stays with him, the memory, as it always does. but he keeps going ]

[ he doesn't want this to be how the tale ends. ]

[he lets go of his family's great sword, leaves it plunged into his friend's body and he keeps walking. through the door. on the other side, once again, he is plunged into darkness. he can't see anything, he can't hear anything, he can't even seem to feel the ground beneath his feet. wherever he is, it's cold, and quiet, and a little suffocating, but peaceful.

and yet, that feeling returns. the feeling that there is still an escape for him. there's the promise, the hope, of a return to his home, to his loved ones who may somehow be waiting there for him, despite the guilt of the awful thing he's done.

it's right there in front of him, a narrow crack of light shining through the darkness above him. all he has to do is climb and find his way out.]

[ karuma's final resting place, in the body of ryunosuke naruhodo.... ]

[ kazuma clenches his jaw, and continues forward. tears are still stinging in his eyes. ]

[ but this can't be how it ends. he needs to go back. that voice in his head is still urging him forward, telling he still has to go.. ]

[ ... to the way it was before... before he received that letter that would change the whole course of his life. ]

[ his limbs still feel like lead, but he goes. one step after another. climbing, pushing through. ]

[he climbs. his hands find purchase on the dirt, which crumbles away. he digs until his hands are raw, his limbs growing heavy and tired with each motion. but there's still that light above him. it's not blindingly bright, only the flicker of a lantern in the darkness, and it feels like hope. he feels as though he's been in darkness so long that even the dim glow of candlelight is brilliant to him. perhaps the person holding that light can shine some on him too, illuminate something for him that he feels he isn't able to do himself.

his hands find purchase on stone. they're so stiff, they feel numb. it's heavy, and difficult, but he can push away the slab of rock that's sealing him in here and, crawling despite the leadenness of all of his limbs, pull himself through the crack he's made.

but as he pulls through, it isn't quite what he expects. for a moment, he can see them there. ryunosuke with his lantern, susato by his side, peering through the darkness, investigating, there to find him. but instead of recognition, he hears a scream from susato, a terrified shout from ryunosuke, as they back away, frightened. they don't appear to recognize him. and the reason feels obvious, suddenly.

he's clawed himself out of a grave, scrabbling at the ground, his face frozen in a demonic scream of rage. but no one can see it behind the heavy iron mask.]

And in this final exhibit, we learn the strange story of the killer's ending.

[no, he can't see ryunosuke and susato there at all, can he? instead, suddenly, he can see out the archway. he can see, past the velvet ropes, the crowd gathered around, frozen in fear and terror, staring back at him, an exhibit on display.

his limbs are frozen, heavy, wax. he can't seem to move, not even to make a sound, not even to breath, and he's choking, soundlessly, without motion.]

[ the light of that lantern spurs him -- it's all that he can focus on, as he scrabbles through the stone, with progressing desperation. ]

[ he has to reach them. he has to. everything will have been for nothing, if he can't--- if he can't return with them, to the place he belongs. ]

[ but something isn't right. the screams echo, reverberate, and he feels a pain in his chest. a pain everywhere. he's suffocating, in the mask, in their screams, in --]

[ suddenly, he can see the crowd -- waxy themselves, in various states of horror, fear and anger. they surely can't make out his expression, but if they did, they could see he's similarly horrified to realize they've been watching this all along. ]

[ his eyes flicker between all of them, from malik and marie, to the scarlets, to the residents, to all those who came to see him yesterday, until finally seeing meteion, who has been watching this. ]

[ he wants to tell them, to tell her not to watch, but what finally comes out is a final, whispered choke of pure despair, so quiet they may not even hear ]

[ Father... I.... ]

[ he can't breathe. ]

[ I've failed you. ]

[he can't breathe, and the life begins to leave him, until only a frozen figure remains.

the images inside the archway swirl again, fading away in a whirl of color. kazuma, too, appears to fade away, colors leaving him first before his form entirely blurs and vanishes into the darkness. there’s nothing there anymore, only pitch black and gently falling dust, gray, white, and for a moment, a few flakes of scarlet red.

...the archway closes. you no longer feel the sensation of wax, and you can move once again.

kazuma asogi is dead.]

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WEEK ONE: EXECUTION

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