I'M THE BOSS TO SURPASS BIG BOSS HIMSELF

And I don’t, either. I have no further reason to lie to Jack, not after the events of Big Shell opened his eyes to his true capacity for agency. There’s nothing I could say to make him stay with me against his will; if he’s still by my side, it’s because he wants to be.

And if one day he decides he doesn't want to be anymore, he’ll go, and I’ll be powerless to stop him.

I’m choosing to stay with Rose and be a dad! I’m not going to leave her, and I’m definitely not going to kill her, either! The only one who’ll be leaving is you, Solidus. 

You-... Jack... and your pathetic woman...

This-...

This is truly disheartening. 

It seems that your woman really has... domesticated you. Taken the old attack dog and turned him into an accessory. 

I don't define you anymore, Jack. But she does. You've thrown your everything onto her. And whether it's a mutual delusion or not, both of you act like there's a chance for normalcy between you two. 

But even now, I refuse to believe it can last.

Liberia, son. The slit throats, the blood, the defilement of flesh. Every breath you breathed guaranteed someone else was robbed of their's, or worse. And you reveled in it. The rest of your brothers, they've attempted to move past. But you? Oh, I can still see that spark. And I wonder what kindling it needs to become a true fire.

The woman is right, Jack; you're not coming with me. 

But I promise you, you are not going to stay with her. Or your child. You're damaged, irreparably. And until you admit that, until you admit just how broken you are, not to this woman, but to yourself...

Well. I just hope I'm there to see the end.

Perhaps I should expedite the process by killing your lifeline now...

Yet I'm more interested in seeing what comes naturally.

This isn't the end for us, Jack.

There’s one thing you were right about - we are the products of the memes we inherit. But Jack has inherited more than just yours. You’re not the only Snake he’s met, and you’re not the only Snake who’s passed something on to him. Your brother thwarted you during Big Shell, and he’s going to thwart you again right here, right now.

Jack, remember when we reunited in Manhattan after the incident? You told me about what Snake had told you, and then you made a promise. You made it to me, to our child, to yourself, and to Snake.

…Thank you. You’re right, I promised. I promised all of you that I would find something worth passing on. That I… I’d find the self that I want to be…

Well. Hold her tongue, or I'll make due cutting it out of her.

I do hope you don't really believe her, son. Whatever promise you think you made means nothing. Because in the end, no matter how many memes you receive, no matter how many lies you adopt, my gift to you has taken the deepest root.

The gift of subservience. 

Solid Snake, this woman, the Patriots, you cling to the memes they have given you. They make you feel like you're free, that you're making your own choice. But look at the way you just bend to her judgement. The way you need her to 'remind' you of what you swore to uphold. She's your everything, isn't she? For now at least.

All you've done is replace me Jack, with a new master, to give you a new lie you can believe in.

But one look at you, and I can see the killer. It won't last. Eventually, she'll bleed out at your hand when her lies aren't enough to let you sleep at night. When the nightmare that is your true self comes roaring back.

Oh good. Someone else to bother him.

"…what is it now-“Solidus instantly stopped himself the moment he turned and saw a boy. A small boy. Very happy and very… normal looking, something the Snake was certainly not used to. 

A part of him considered telling the boy off, to go away and not bother him, but something about him seemed… familiar.

And that’s when he remembered the files he took, the images he saw, when he went out of his way to look up a certain person…

Following a moment of disbelief, a smile started to spread on Solidus’ lips, with a subtle hint of smugness present at how wonderfully recursive life seemed to be.

" You mean my daddy, right?" John answered with a light tone and then he got excited.

" Yeah! my daddy is Jack! who are you mister?" the boy tilting his head to one side. 

And it only took him a second to decide his next words.

"-I'm your father's father."

Solidus grinned widely at the boy, a smile that seemed genuine, yet was completely and utterly filled with such a smug satisfaction on the inside.

He bent down on one knee, so that he was at least somewhat closer to the boy's height, and chuckled.

"You look quite a bit like him when he was your age. Fascinating."

His single eye looked around the premise, searching intently with anticipation for a potential conflict. After all, Jack's boy was here, so did that mean...

… … …I-! I won’t! I won’t just snap and go crazy…!

 N-no! I… I’d die before I let anything like that happen to Rose and our kid! I- I wouldn’t do that to them! I wouldn’t! 

Deny it to yourself. Bury it. Let it fester like a wound. Do as you like, while you shield yourself with your pretend purpose. 

And when it finally crumbles away, you'll be begging for benediction, and you'll find nothing. 

You’re just not cut out to be domestic, son. You’ll hide your nature under facades and lies. Try and fail to play the dutiful father, try and eek out a living when you know you’re better suit somewhere else, try to not snap the necks of the frail people in your life completely incapable of understanding you and your struggles.

But eventually, you’ll snap. And then your wife, your child, everyone who tires to stop you… there won’t be anything left of them but a smear on the ground.

… … …I-! I won’t! I won’t just snap and go crazy…!

 N-no! I… I’d die before I let anything like that happen to Rose and our kid! I- I wouldn’t do that to them! I wouldn’t! 

And how long do you think that’ll last, before you realize that the only thing you can teach your child is how to be a killer? Since that’s all you know. The only life you understand.

You're just not cut out to be domestic, son. You'll hide your nature under facades and lies. Try and fail to play the dutiful father, try and eek out a living when you know you're better suit somewhere else, try to not snap the necks of the frail people in your life completely incapable of understanding you and your struggles.

But eventually, you'll snap. And then your wife, your child, everyone who tires to stop you... there won't be anything left of them but a smear on the ground.

I hope you don’t believe that. One look at you, and I can see, you’re still the same brat that I found in Liberia and shaped into a real solider, not like what they made you. Your face tells it all. That darkness, that fear, the bloodlust… now that you know everything, it’s like you haven’t left home at all, haven’t you? 

You need the fight.

And how long do you think that'll last, before you realize that the only thing you can teach your child is how to be a killer? Since that's all you know. The only life you understand.

Don’t make me laugh.

I made you into a killer and the Patriots made you into a pawn. You’re a product of another’s choice, and you always have been. You’ve never been your own man, and you never will. Just a puppet playing a pretend purpose. And you need it, don’t you?

I hope you don't believe that. One look at you, and I can see, you're still the same brat that I found in Liberia and shaped into a real solider, not like what they made you. Your face tells it all. That darkness, that fear, the bloodlust... now that you know everything, it's like you haven't left home at all, haven't you? 

You need the fight.

So petulant. You owe your life to me.

Don't make me laugh.

I made you into a killer and the Patriots made you into a pawn. You're a product of another's choice, and you always have been. You've never been your own man, and you never will. Just a puppet playing a pretend purpose. And you need it, don't you?

So petulant. You owe your life to me.

It’s me, son. We’re talking. I’m alive. And now, we’ve found each other all over again.

No, fuck you. You’re dead. 

It’s me, son. We’re talking. I’m alive. And now, we’ve found each other all over again.

Jack.

Oh, son. Cursing at the sight of me? Haven’t I taught you better? Maybe you still need to learn…

No, fuck you. You’re dead. 

It's me, son. We're talking. I'm alive. And now, we've found each other all over again.

… … …

Yeah, no… I’m gonna assume that this isn’t what it looks like, and there’s just something messed up with my computer right now. Because there is just no way that—

Oh.

Oh shit.

Jack.

Oh, son. Cursing at the sight of me? Haven't I taught you better? Maybe you still need to learn...