@griefurias asked: "It probably gets lonely down here, yeah?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Maron has never, in fact, possessed that skill -- he moves on to his next task unbothered, like he didn't steal a ride with people who barely know him (like he deserves to even be here at all).
Is this a human being? To him, yes. This person, too -- a carefully crafted living ghost in a body as warm from battery life and gear turns as a casing of flesh is from blood and muscle -- should count. He doesn't think harder, instead holding out a clumsily carved apricorn (it's supposed to be a Togedemaru, painted and with a tail affixed, but this is more his dad's skill than his; it's slipshod and ugly). "I'm still ass at these, but he'll keep you company. I make 'em for my teachers, too."
❝ Thank you, Marañon. ❞ The offered apricorn is taken, Aldrés spinning it carefully between its fingers as it examines the craftmanship.
【 Togedemaru, the Roly-Poly Pokémon. Electric/Steel. Number zero-seven-seven-seven in the National Dex. Not native to Paldea, but found in high numbers across Alola and Galar. 】
The little Togedemaru is far from perfect—some of the painted markings are wobbly, some of the carved lines having gouged too deep and left the entire thing lopsided—but that does nothing to put a damper on his enjoyment of it. If anything, the mistakes help make it better, a reminder of the flaws he may never possess. An imperfect skill can always be improved, can always be mastered, but what option is there for something already born perfect?
What growth can exist for something designed to surpass every human limit?
❝ It is true; you have much room left for improvement. ❞ Tact, unfortunately, is not a talent found in the original Turo nor his artificial replica. ❝ But that does not mean this creation deserves insult. ❞
To say that Area Zero was lonely was to say that the Antarctic ice sheets were a little cool. It's such a huge understatement that it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the truth.
Area Zero is an alien, accursed place, forever imprisoning life that shouldn't exist in this age and never asked to. Crystals spread across the land like a plague, trapping trees and flowers in glittering, translucent cages and climbing up building walls like ivy. Even the crystals themselves are discontent, whispering poison into the ears of all who linger too long.
Much blood has been spilled upon its soil, and the restless ghosts left behind are as much a prisoner of the crater as its guardian.
It is terribly, unbearably lonely.
...But perhaps this little act of kindness will help make it a little more bearable. At the very least, it will serve as a reminder that Aldrés has not been forgotten.
❝ I appreciate the gift and shall keep it safe within Zero Lab. ❞
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