Chapter Text
Simon had no one to live for. No parents, no siblings, no friends, no lovers. He had no one waiting for him to come home, or whatever was left of it. He'd accepted that fact long before the C.O.I. dumped him into the blood ocean on a suicide mission, no matter how determined he had been to make it out alive. His mother was dead. As were his brothers from Eden. Everyone in the C.O.I despised him for the attack on Filament Station.
In an already empty universe, Simon was completely, utterly alone.
Well, perhaps not completely alone. There was the creature trying to devour his submarine at the moment. Even through the exhaustion and the excruciating pain that flooded his senses, he was determined to kill that thing. At least then he could do some good for the universe. As long as the black box made it out, it didn't matter what happened to him.
With his remaining hand he slammed the fire extinguisher into the creatures teeth that had pierced through the metal over and over again. It screamed at him, a guttural, mortifying sound. "Fuck you!" he screamed back. "Die!"
The submarine jolted, making him stumble and fall into the blood. He lost his grip on the fire extinguisher. He flailed around, trying desperately to get back up and keep fighting. If he was going to die, he might as well go out fighting like hell. But something was weighing him down, keeping him sloshing around in the blood. Dark tendrils wrapped tightly around his neck. He coughed as the hot liquid slithered into his lungs. With a start, Simon realized he was drowning.
"FUCKING WORM! PRAY THAT YOU STAY DEAD! WE ARE SALVATION! WE CAN SAVE EVERYONE WITHIN US!" The creature screeched in desperation. It continued ranting and raving, but Simon could barely hear it over the roaring in his own ears. The pain was unbearable, and not just from where his arm had been ripped off. His entire body felt as though it was on fire.
He went under for a moment, then his face resurfaced and he gasped for air. His last breath of precious oxygen was an inhuman roar of anger. And in his final seconds, he prayed. He didn't know who he was praying to. Perhaps anyone who was willing to listen.
Let me die. Please, God, let me die, he begged. So long as the black box is safe, I can die.
And then, by some miracle, the submarine exploded. The creature let out one last shriek of despair as its head combusted with it, and everything went dark.
Silence followed. Beautiful, blissful silence. Simon was somewhere warm, dark, and quiet. It felt like paradise after the chaos of the last several minutes. His body relaxed as the pain evaporated, leaving him numb. This must have been the kind of heaven the Father always preached about. The eternal peace that awaited you after death. Simon was more than happy to stay here for eternity.
Unfortunately, fate never favored Simon.
After only a couple minutes of bliss, he found himself standing in a field of golden rye. At least, he assumed that's what it was. He'd only seen pictures of it from old books the Father had shown him. Or was it wheat he was thinking of? Hesitantly, he reached out and plucked a bushel, holding it in his calloused hand. He twirled it by the stem between his thumb and forefinger. It was such a simple thing, but somehow it was so beautiful. He finally looked to his left and noticed a tree in the distance, its leaves gently rustling in the wind. An oak, he immediately knew.
It took a moment for Simon to realize his body was unharmed. He wasn't covered in blood anymore, his limbs were all in tact, and that strange fungus no longer clung to him. He seemed completely fine.
"What the hell…?" Simon muttered. He spun when he heard rustling to his right, and saw hundreds of people walking towards him. Some he recognized as fellow brothers from Eden, but most of them were strangers. Simon took a few steps back as they approached him, their faces blank. But they simply walked around him and made a beeline for the tree.
All Simon could do was watch in confusion as they passed by like a herd of animals. He reached out and waved his hand in one woman's face, but she simply ignored him and continued walking.
"Hello? Who are you people? What's going on?" he asked. No one answered him. Simon scanned over the faces, and his gaze settled on one person behind him. His heart skipped a beat.
"Ava!"
She looked the exact same as when he'd last seen her, though considerable less lively. Her eyes were fixated on the tree ahead, glazed over and unblinking. She seemed to be under the same spell as everyone else. Simon blocked her path, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to stop.
"Ava! Hey, it's me, Simon. The guy you sent into the blood ocean. AT-5, I think. Do you recognize me?" Simon asked. He hoped and prayed that she would.
Ava blinked, her eyes clearing. Something felt off about her demeanor, but Simon couldn't quite place it. She focused on him, though her expression remained blank. "Simon. You made it here too."
Simon exhaled, nodding. "Yes. Yes, I made it out. Where the hell are we? Where's everyone going? Did the C.O.I. get the black box?" He had a million questions he needed to ask, but Ava just stared back at him. He groaned. "Okay, okay. I'll go slow. Where are we?"
"We're in the promised land. A place free of pain and suffering, where we can find tranquility and harmony."
That made absolutely no sense to Simon. But he nodded along anyways. "Why is everyone walking towards that tree? Is there something important there?"
Ava paused, considering for a long moment. "Salvation."
Simon resisted the urge to yell at her for not making any sense. He tensed when she took his hands from her shoulders and held them in her own. "You can find salvation too, if you join us. Let go, and see how freeing it can be."
A chill went up his spine, and he slowly stepped back. "You're not Ava." She didn't sound like the cold, confident officer he'd briefly known. She sounded more like that creature from the ocean, spouting nonsense about salvation and enlightenment. Had Ava fallen under its control, or was there something else going on? Simon didn't have a chance to ask as she barely shrugged and continued on towards the tree.
"Hey, wait! Did the C.O.I get the black box? Did I do everything right?" Simon called after her. But in the blink of an eye she disappeared, melting into the rest of the crowd.
What the fuck is happening? he thought.
The steady crowd of people continued towards the tree. Simon could have sworn there were more people than before. He looked towards the tree, then back at the crowd. He considered staying put, unsure of what might be waiting for him at the tree, but then what? Wait for someone else to come along? He could go a different direction, but as far as he knew the rye stretched on forever. Instinct told him there was nothing and no one else out there. His fist had become itchy and sweaty from clutching the bushel. He looked down at it, closed his hand into a fist, and turned to follow the rest of the people.
That was when he heard it: a lone hum, soft yet clear as day. Simon froze. It had been many years since he'd last heard that tune, but he recognized it immediately. He looked back, and saw a lone woman walking against the flow of the crowd. His heart stopped dead.
"Mom?"
She ignored him, or perhaps she simply didn't hear him. Simon followed her. Slowly at first, his pace quickening with each step until he broke into a run. He shoved and weaved through the crowd, which didn't try to stop him. He ran as fast as he could manage, but it seemed like he was still so far behind her.
"Mom! Mom, wait!" he shouted. She gave no indication she heard him. They passed the crowd of people, and suddenly Simon was falling. Falling into a deep pool of blood. Fear seized his body. He reached out for his mother. "No, wait!" But it was no use. He plunged into the blood again, writhing and choking as he sank further down. He tried to swim back up, but it was as though some invisible force dragged him down. The last thing he saw was that bushel of rye floating above him before he was pulled into the darkness.
This time it was not peaceful. This time the darkness was filled with pain. Agonizing, unfathomable pain, like thousands of maggots writhing in his body. Simon thrashed in excruciation as he drifted in the endless void, trying to scream only for no sound to pass his lips.
There was something inside of him. Consuming his organs, festering like a plague and killing him from the inside out. Yet he never succumbed to it, no matter how long it rotted inside him. Simon's blood felt like molten lava. He clawed at his chest, trying to rip the thing out of him. But every time he manage to tear flesh, it simply knitted itself back together, and the agony continued.
This must have been hell. It seemed a fitting enough afterlife for a man who'd spent most of his life as a criminal. The field before had only been some kind of…test? Trick? He wasn't entirely sure.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he pleaded to the void. To his shock, someone answered.
"Because your purpose has not been fulfilled. Yet."
Days passed. Or maybe it was weeks, even centuries. Time became meaningless. All Simon knew was hellish agony and silent prayers to make it stop, please, make it stop. An eternal torment for his crimes that seemed to have no end. Nothing like the paradise the Father had promised. He'd always known those teachings were bullshit, but some part of him was still disappointed.
Eventually, slowly, the pain faded. It was still there, but dulled considerably. Simon managed to take a breath of air without his chest feeling like it was about to explode. Make no mistake, he still felt like absolute shit. But it was a step above his previous condition.
After a moment he realized he was laying on something soft and dry. There was an odd smell of antiseptic in the air. Simon slowly opened his eyes, and realized he could only see out of one of them. But that still let him view the warm, clean space when he turned his aching head. And the rock encased in glass standing by him in silent vigilance. Simon blinked, making sure he was seeing things correctly. It was a surprising sight to him, for certain.
What was more surprising was when the rock fucking moved.
It sprang up, letting out a series of musical notes in exclamation. Before Simon had the chance to scream in surprise, the rock scuttled away, tittering more music. He blinked again.
What the fuck?
Surely Simon was hallucinating. This had to be some new layer of hell for him, albeit one he couldn't wrap his mind around yet. He scanned over the rest of the room, some kind of living space from what he could tell. He didn't recognize the layout as Eden of C.O.I living quarters. It was far too clean to be either. Had he been picked up by some other ship then? One none of them knew about? Simon looked back at the ceiling, his head swimming with the movement. A soft groan escaped his lips. Moments later he heard footsteps and a voice.
"Are you sure he's awake?"
More music. How long had it been since Simon had heard music, aside from Eden's chants or prayers?
"Okay, okay, fair point. I just wanted to be certain." There were a few more trilling notes. Simon could have sworn they were sarcastic.
A face appeared, staring down at him. A human face. And it was smiling. Simon couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone smile. His heart gave a jolt of surprise. The man above him was blonde and unkempt but surprisingly clean and wearing glasses. If Simon hadn't known better, he might have thought the man was an angel. Shit, maybe he was, ready to end Simon's misery and bring him some peace. Wouldn't that be nice?
"Good morning. I was beginning to think you wouldn't wake up at all. How are you feeling?" the man asked. He had such a warm, comforting voice. Simon's lips parted, trying to form a response.
Instead he turned on his side and vomited.