DEUS EX MACHINA

:// AGE — 28 :// OCCUPATION — head of operations of neo seoul electric elysium branch :// CLASS — olympian

>> LOADING DEVELOPMENT …

:// MAGIC —  

slight charm. jaewon has a way with words and charming people whenever he needs to, which showed to be good to the business. not only because it makes him good in making new connections, but it also helps with that sure enough, and it has kept his father out of his toes for the last few years. when one thinks about the many missteps jaewon has made throughout his life, it makes no sense that he still maintains the position he does - and sure, his family name has a lot to do with it. but not only it. one smile, a carefully chosen string of words and he has people wrapped around his finger, willing to forget what he’s done. and what he will do.

:// MODIFICATIONS —

ballistic protection ~ using nanotechnology, it fortifies the skin from underneath so he is safe from attacks from melee weapons such as knives and smaller firearms. due to his position and importance, and the fear of terrorist attacks, he had this augmentation implanted at the age of sixteen. at the age of twenty-four, they updated this to also protect him from minor bomb explosions.

cranial bomb ~ also installed by his father once jaewon started working with him. being head of the elysium branch, his father, kwon sangwoo, had to make sure their data would be protected in case of kidnapping or of jaewon himself acting the fool. this was all done without his consent while he got his ballistic protection implanted.

cyberdeck ~ where he keeps all the important information of the company that he can use against his father. it comes with a program to defeat any hacking attempt against it. he implanted it after he became

>> LOADING BIOGRAPHY …

(28)

the music is deafening downstairs and jaewon makes his way up, away, to his room. the door closes behind him and he breathes in, relieved in his solitude. who would’ve thought the day would come he would feel better in the shadows rather than in the spotlight.

but here is the thing about when you have too much of something:

it stops being enough.

he places the glass on his counter, walks towards the window. in front of him the night sky spreads above and beyond. and seems limitless, almost – but he knows better than to believe that. now he does, at least. has learned so. there was a time he thought he could reach out and have anything in the world.

and so he did. kwon jaewon reached out and he has had everything. has tasted everything. and now he feels like there’s a hole inside of him that he cannot fill. wait, no. he can. of course, he can. this is not something wrong with him, it’s something wrong with the world. and as long as the problem is in the world, it’s something he can fix. it’s something he can change.

the world is his, anyway. he just needs to reach even further.

so he does.

(7)

power is a complicated thing in the hand of a kid.

okay, sure, it’s easy to blame it all on the parents. it makes him seem at little less at fault for what he becomes, right? not that jaewon is upset at what he becomes, or even sees it. this is the thing with power, in the first place. people don’t care what they do, what they become, as long as they have it. this is what his father had told him, since a very very young age.

when jaewon is seven, his father takes him to their company.

their. his father makes sure that is implanted on him (quite literally). once it will be his. once this building will pass on to him and it will be his job to keep it going, to keep it running.

“the world is divided, jaewon,” his father tells him on that day as they stand in front of the window of his father’s office, the blue sky above them and clouds beneath them. “there’s those who have power, and those who don’t.”

jaewon nods. “we have it, father?” he asks, and his father nods.

“yes, we do. and it will be your job to keep it.”

the kid looks up to his father, all dressed up in his pristine suit. “and what happens if i lose it?” the response to this terrifies him. not because of losing power, he’s too young to understand that, but the idea of failing his father’s wishes.

“then you become like them,” his father points bellow and jaewon looks down. he can’t see a thing. just clouds.

“but i can’t see them, father.”

“exactly. you can’t. they’re invisible from here up above. nothing,” his father kneels down. “you’ll become nothing.”

(22)

the light is dim, and there’s very few things jaewon can see in the room. but he can feel her all right, her arms around him, nails on his back. he leans in and kisses her, avid fingers making their way through her clothes. they don’t have much time for games or riddles. outside, he can hear the chatter of people, his mother’s charity dinner party going just as planned.

well.

this happening in her guest’s restroom isn’t as planned but. what she can’t see won’t break her heart.

“wait,” the girl says and jaewon pauses, annoyed. “i thought you are engaged.”

the ring on his finger weights, just a little. he places his hand on her jaw, presses, lets the coldness of the gold around his finger press against her skin. he smiles.

“does that bother you?” he asks, and the girl breathes out.

“no,” she whispers.

“good.”

he kisses her again.

(16)

“son,” someone knocks at his door and his mother comes in with a smile.

she is always smiling.

sometimes jaewon wonders if his father implanted that on her head too.

“i know you’re upset with your father,” she starts and jaewon stands up.

“mother. leave.”

“son. listen to me.”

“he implanted a bomb in my head!” he shouts and his mother closes her eyes. she is not smiling now, it lasts a second. she shivers, but when she opens her eyes she smiles again. it sickens him. it makes him want to throw up.

“i know it may look harsh now,” she says and jaewon blocks her out. he looks away, his back towards her. he was supposed to get a cranial cyberdeck implanted, and that was all. now that he was going to start working with his father he understood why that was necessary. but a bomb? “but your father only does everything to protect our family.”

“he’s a fucking asshole, mom,” he turns around to face her again. “what? do you have one too?”

she falters. jaewon breaks the mirror in front of him.

“does he even trust us?” he asks, and his mother sits down on his bed. jaewon sees when a tear streams down her face but he does nothing to comfort her. he doesn’t give a shit about her feelings right now. “why did he even put me there if he will kill me if i–”

his mother wipes her tear. “your father deals with a lot. once you’re in his position, maybe you’ll understand. there’s things he needs to do that– well. he has to. to protect us.”

jaewon snorts. “killing me would protect us?”

his mother smiles again.

“yes.”

(25)

“jaewon,” he hears, his though process cut by his faher’s voice. he looks at the man sitting at his right and his expression is cut through. jaewon smiles.

“sorry, father,” he says, looks around the table with an apologetic expression, “had trouble sleeping last night.”

“drink some coffee, then,” his father replies, and his smile seems to have worked. at least a little. at least enough.

the meeting continues around him and jaewon has trouble keeping up. one, because it’s dull as hell; two, because his head aches, the faint reminiscence of a hangover that he is not over yet. he needs to go to the doctor again and update his medication. whatever they have in his system is just not working anymore.

once it’s done, jaewon stands up as well, ready to go to his own office but his father beckons for him to stay. he sits back down, smiles even wider when his father closes the door. he doesn’t seem pleased, but when does he?

“jaewon,” his father starts, “you have to stop embarrassing me.”

“good grief, father. i spaced out. it’s not that big of a deal.”

his father doesn’t reply. the man sits down on the chair by his side, and jaewon is suddenly reminded when he was seven-years-old and he came in his father’s office for the first time. the way he looked up to him. the way he adored him.

now it all seems like some far away joke.

“i’m placing you in charge of the elysium branch of our company,” he says and jaewon furrows his eyebrows, confused. he was not expecting that.

“what?”

“I need you to start having responsibility. once, and for all.”

jaewon rolls his eyes. “you speak as though i’m doing a lousy job here.”

“you get the job done, son, but you are–”

“what?”

“too much. we have an image to keep. this place,” he gestures to the window. “you think we keep our place here just because of what we do? it’s also because of what we are. the failure of your engagement was already… a difficult hit, let’s put it like that.”

jaewon closes his eyes. “and how was that my fault? you chose her. you called the whole thing off. i was going to marry her, wasn’t, i? i didn’t want to, but i was going to–”

“all you do is whine. i raised you to be a man, and you’re still a child.”

he stands up and jaewon does as well. only his father can make a gift sound like a curse. something good sound like a sloppy second.

“what else do you want me to do? i’ve done everything you asked. you even implanted a fucking bomb in my head, and i let it go. for this fucking family. what else do you need?”

his father stops by the door and he doesn’t even look at him as he says:

“stop disappointing me.”

and then he leaves.

jaewon stays still, though he has rage enough to burn this whole building down. to kill his own father with his bare hands. he remains still. breathing hard.

what is power? he has asked his father one day and right now, even with so much, he still feels powerless.

and what are those without power?

nothing.

:// AGE — 25 :// OCCUPATION — bartender :// CLASS — elysium native

>> LOADING DEVELOPMENT …

:// MODIFICATIONS —

cybernetic eye (left)/ retinal modifications (right): after a congenital defect and a rejected implant claimed the sight in one of her eyes, her father plunged himself into debt working towards a replacement. this has been systematically upgraded over the years as she came into greater means or traded in favors, implanting vision enhancement software, cosmetic options (retinal and display), as well as a means of audiovisual recording and photographing (triggered by a double blink), and mild zoom capabilities.

memory headware and datajack: paired with her cybernetic eye enhancements, all recordings made, pictures taken, and audio stored is dumped into the memory headware installed. it acts as a blanket enhancement on long term memory, allowing near photographic memory of time periods stored within for easy access. her short term memory is unaffected by the headware. any information loaded into the memory component can be dumped into a computer via the datajack for backup purposes. files can be duplicated but not fully removed or deleted from the memory bank.

>> LOADING BIOGRAPHY …

the great god odin is once said to have given up his eye in his search for knowledge.

for katsura rio the exchange is not so straightforward. she gives up her eye for fragility first. the knowledge comes later. rio is born broken and ill. birth is the unstoppable call of nature, as implacable as the tides, but it comes too early and the hospital is ill prepared. immunocompromised is whispered where she cannot hear, but young ears have no context for language.

it is not until she is eight years old behind coke bottle glasses lenses that obscure her features, spindly wire frames clinging spider legged to protruding ears, that the young girl gains context. it is her left eye that is the most affected, a fact learned when she tells her mother of the holes in her vision and watches as the woman’s lips pull tight and thing.

they do not have the money for a sick child and in this way rio is burdensome and unsightly, an ungainly thing at odds with elysium, this fairground of all things perfected. the options are limited for a girl of her condition and further still dwindle with the finances available to them.

the first try is simple, implanted retinal corrective devices into both eyes, designed to still the degradation of her vision. she is fourteen when she undergoes the procedure and the healing process is excruciating. the heartbreak in its wake more so, when her left eye rejects the device, infection and fever spreading as her immune system attacks the foreign body first and then itself. the leave the implantation in the right eye.

she spends the next three years blind in her left eye, a milky film covered with a curtain of hair or a patch over her eye, thick framed glasses or dark tinted sunglasses. at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen she is ridiculed for the defect. she learns to become invisible. she learns powerlessness and helplessness. she learns to be resourceful. she learns to watch.

rio sees more one eyed than most do with both, an undercurrent of awareness into the lives of those around her. she reads the patterns of their body language and fixes herself to the background, a wallflower growing uprooted in the corner, spindly vines stretching towards the shadowed corners of the ceiling.

when disorder threatens her useless eye once more, her father promises a solution. but in elysium all such things come with strings, a puppeteer behind the scenes to orchestrate the outcome in their own favor. rio gains an eye and loses a father, claimed by debt and despair, having turned to the gambling tables of the shining casino to fund the implantation. rio is of two minds: to blame herself and to despise him. in the end she settles for a mixture of both, a complicated slurry of disgust that sits rancid in the pit of her stomach.

she’s nineteen, with two good eyes, more metal than flesh. she’s learned to see beyond the average and she’s learned to disappear. she’s learned, also, that debt can be passed down, and a gun in the barrel of his mouth hadn’t absolved rio of the threat of repayment. god forbid she not be ready when chronos comes knocking.

the years pass like this: an invisible girl is remade beautiful, but she’s traded an eye for wisdom. behind the shining surface of the bar is an inviting face and a listening ear, eyes that seem to glow with warmth. chameleon-like she adapts, expert in the language of nuance and the body, unflinchingly disarming and utterly nonthreatening. a waif of a creature, all thick handed blush and hollowed collarbones, a precarious creature teetering on the edge of undoing. this girl has known loss and bartered with it, a principle slowly, yet steadily applied. money is forever poured into the gaping maw of lingering debts and with each cough and each hospital visit the chasm deepens, neverending, borrowing against the promise of interest.

so an invisible girl trades in secrets and favors, intangible promises that cannot be forgotten. stored and catalogued religiously, recorded from deceptively human eyes, manicured and outlined in star studded retinas.

:// AGE — 27 :// OCCUPATION — unemployed; housewife :// CLASS — olympian

>> LOADING DEVELOPMENT …

:// MODIFICATIONS —

none

>> LOADING BIOGRAPHY …

to some, ryu seol is immeasurably lucky. to others, she’s a beast made up of snobbery. the truth? ryu seol is unhappy… and has been forever.

she has a life that many would kill for, and she knows that. she honestly feels guilt because of it more often than she’d like to admit. her mere existence holds a promise for lifelong prosperity, and those who hold judgment over her are right in that she’s never had to make plans if rent doesn’t get paid, or if she’s not able to stock her refrigerator with the freshest, most organic groceries. instead, her hunger is never neglected, her credit card never gets declined, and she lives well above the means of others her age for doing essentially nothing. it wasn’t as if she chose to be born into a life of luxury and comfort, no, and truth be told, she wishes that she wasn’t. it’s ignorant for her to think that way, as she’s never had to face the same struggles as those in elysium, but she just can’t help it, and even though she’s conflicted, she’s still able to put on a show for everyone around her. on the outside, she’s a woman dressed up in the finest, most expensive garments; a woman who’s makeup is applied stunningly—minimally—to accentuate each one of her natural born features. she’s a woman who possesses a charm similar to that of old hollywood icons from centuries ago, such as marilyn monroe; someone who thrives in a public setting due to an endless simpering charm.

though, despite there being an ever-glistening soul wrapped up in her usual opulent attire and cosmetics, most of her cohorts don’t focus on what’s within when it comes to her. she’s the second child—and the only daughter—to one of olympus’ wealthiest families. her older brother is wise, and smart, and handsome, and the heir to the family conglomerate, and her? well, she’s a natural beauty who’s reduced to how she looks rather than how she feels. it’s created a complex in her that’ll take years to repair, but she hasn’t necessarily invested any time into it. mother has always prioritized teaching her to appear meek, and soft, and submissive, in order to appeal to the long list of rival heirs that are desperate to walk her down the aisle. it isn’t only a promise of commitment, after all, it’d be a celebratory joining of businesses; an affiliation that’ll only offer more notoriety, and more wealth, to both sides of the family. at the end of the day, she’s the queen on her family’s chessboard, and the instant she’s taken down in checkmate and made a married woman, everyone’s lives would be much better. everyone would be much more affluent. everyone would feel obligated to control her even more than she already is.

so, when the day finally comes for her to tie the knot, she’s twenty years old and saying her i do’s to a man that she doesn’t love, but who her family views as the best possible candidate for her. his family is more powerful than her’s, and together, they’re a picture perfect dream in olympus. they’re the envy of many, and the shallow group of friends that surrounds her oft complains at how lucky she is, or about how they wish they could be in her place, and she wants so badly to tell them her truth, but knows that she’ll be exiled if she did. they’ll never understand what goes on within her head, and slowly, but surely, that aforementioned soul trapped within her starts to dim; starts to die. on the surface, she appears to happily stow herself away inside of her new luxe estate with the title of perfect housewife written upon her décolletage, but all of her isolation is one of the many affects of depression she can’t suppress. her desired lifestyle is much simpler, and much freer. instead of being caged in like a songbird with clipped wings, she longs to take flight into a land that accepts her for who she is; one that’s dramatically different from the one she’s living in at present.

so, five years in, ryu seol decides to be brave. she decides to disguise herself and roam into elysium.

what possessed her to take the trip is beyond her, but she was desperate for a change of scenery; replacing golden art deco inspired walls with dirty neon lights and smog. she’s not exactly known to many of the locals, so she gets away with flying under the radar, but years in, she’s discovered making sizably hefty purchases from drug dealers in town; tipping them off that she couldn’t possibly be making that kind of money in elysium. rumors begin to fly that she’s a spy of sorts, but no one’s been able to prove their guesses. after all, she uses an alias outside of olympus—lee ryujin—for a reason. sure, she despises her dull life as a housewife, but she can’t deny that the money tucked away in her bank accounts isn’t a pleasant perk. if not for that, she couldn’t live as dangerously as she’s been.

seven years after her marriage, she’s decided to scratch an itch that’s often said to occur at a certain point in a committed relationship; an itch tempting her to become entangled with other individuals that aren’t her husband. does she have his permission? of course not. is she good at concealing it? yes, to a degree, but it’s not an easy charade to repeat time after time. that said, she’s metamorphosed into someone that’s completely different from the woman she looks at in the mirror every morning. ryu seol has learned to become one of the most talented liars in all of neo seoul. she’s persuasive in a way that’s almost sociopathic, but she’s never been given a diagnosis, nor does she fit all of the determining factors to be given one. she’s just good with words, and good at telling people what they want to hear. she’s absent from home a lot, but she’s able to keep her husband’s worries at bay with fragrantly worded promises that she often keeps to continue to build his trust, as that’s what’ll keep her best supported.

to olympians, she’s the most flawless wife, daughter, and socialite. to those in elysium, she’s a tourist who generously supports the economy.

truth is, she’s an enigma wherever she is; a mystery that not many have come close to solving. hell, even she’s not close to solving the mystery herself, either. instead, she lives life on the edge, and by her own selfish needs, now that she can. she’s impulsive, and wild, and making up for the time she lost due to her prim and proper youth.

though, what happens when her mask is forced off?