Part of the reason why Guy succumbed to the other Guy's attack was that he had truly given up. His reality was crumbling before him, shattered like a fragile mirror revealing the truth that he had tried to bury in his subconscious. Did he grossly overestimate his influence on the lives of his students in his past life?
It was totally possible. The death of Mahima, her younger sister and her mother was a heavy stone bearing down on Guy's heart. Even though his work had changed the lives of far more children across the world, no amount of charity could counterbalance the weight of those three lives. One could liken the tapestry woven by the experiences of one's life to the cryptic blockchain that had sprouted off back on Earth during Guy's later years. Every action and reaction, both intentional and unintentional, leaves a mark - a notch - in this tapestry that will remain as such for eternity. You can forget that it existed, and cover it up with intricate designs and folds or stitches, but the mark will remain there forever. It cannot be washed, it cannot be fixed, and it cannot be changed in any way.
For Guy, the death of those three was a garish tear in his tapestry. After years worth of sessions with his therapist, Guy had rationalised the existence of this tear. He accepted the fact that he couldn't have done anything in that situation. But as the other Guy pointed out, was that the whole truth? Was he really as powerless as he convinced himself to be?
Could he have approached his previous life differently?
The sound of a baby's cry pierced through the suppressive silence prevailing around Guy's isolated consciousness. It cut through the barrier formed by the invading poisonous mist that attacked his soul, threatening to absorb and convert it. It hit right as Guy was about to lose his sense of self - as his identity was about to be absorbed by the other Guy.
At that moment of brief clarity, Guy realised a key fact. The person he was facing, the other Guy, was an entity originally created to manipulate others. At a point where Guy was forced to put on a facade to convince others, he had formed the other Guy by accident. The entity always teetered at the edge of the truth and doled out falsehoods like a faulty machinegun. Ironically, Guy had become victim to the huckster of his own subconscious design. Looking back at everything this entity foisted on him, Guy realised the sheer hypocrisy and fatalistic ethics it fostered. Although a lot of what the other Guy revealed was correct, there were twists that pushed it towards mistruths. It was so convincing that it had even brought him to the point of questioning his own existence and morals. He couldn't let such a monster loose into this world!
Like a fresh injection of adrenaline, Guy's diminished strength was invigorated. With a hard yank, Guy pulled off the solid object masking his face. It ripped out with an audible tear sending a shockwave of excruciating pain down every nerve in his body. He felt as if he was being skinned alive and dragged through a sea of salt.
And then, with an audible clang resonating with a morbid reverberation, a void-black mask dropped to the floor of the RoK. As Guy rubbed his eyes, he noticed a mist dissipating around him slowly. He recognised this fog, it was the same one he saw upon his first |Introspect| into his core. As the translucent vapour around him siphoned away, a sound echoed in his mind.
'Next time, there won't be a concession.'
Guy was about to swear audibly that he would never wear the mask again, but his thoughts were interrupted by the same voice.
'You need me, Guy. We WILL meet again, I promise you.' After a pause, it continued. 'However, till our next reunion, I will offer you a word of advice considering that we are, after all, the same physical entity.'
'To lie effectively, one needs to be intimate with the truth. You must be aware of that already,' the voice began. 'My mastery over the truth has reached a level where I can easily weave in even outrageous lies without arousing doubt.'
'On that note, the reason for your death back on Earth may not necessarily be a complete truth,' the voice cautioned. 'Excessive charity work leading to a self-inflicted death caused by over-accumulation of negative luck. If that is how the world worked, it would have fallen apart from the very beginning.'
'But Mast wouldn't lie to me...'
'Wouldn't he?' the voice mocked. 'You're far too trusting. Forget it! I have no time for your naïveté. Just make sure that your body remains in one piece the next time we congregate. I don't want a broken vessel! The prophet of the Absolute Truth must be pristine and unaffected.'
With that, the voice faded away with the fog.
(You were gone a long time there. I couldn't get to you. I was concerned,) a monotonous voice commented, originating from behind Guy.
Mast observed the awkward and conflicted expression drawn across Guy's face and approached him. (What's wrong?)
'No- Nothing,' Guy said while shaking his head.
(You've advanced into the External stage of Foundation Establishment. Congratulations.)
'Thanks,' Guy answered with a blank tone. 'I should go now.'
With a curt salutation, Guy exited the RoK. After his departure, Mast's usually frigid face displayed a crack. His eyes narrowed as they focused on the rapidly receding mist. It snaked like a sentient creature through the air and exited through a nearly imperceptible tear in space. At the centre of the RoK, beneath the table where the mask was placed, a dark crack had formed.
(This anomaly is getting out of hand,) Mast muttered. (This needs to be investigated before it barrels out of control and threatens the integrity of this plane.)
Jean instructed Josie to place the child on a clean stack of towels and cover it well with a blanket. Following standard procedure, the baby would be cleansed and treated for any illnesses.
"Before touching the baby, make sure that you have thoroughly cleansed yourself with soap," Jean warned the excited midwife and mother. "At this stage, the child is extremely susceptible to illnesses."
Chiani held pulled back her arms immediately. Observing the efficiency with which Jean restitched her eviscerated womb back together had raised her evaluation of the girl to extraordinary realms. At this point, Chiani was willing to accept every word spouted by Jean as gospel.
"As for you," Jean spoke directly to the mother. "Do not move around excessively. Proper bed rest and medication are mandatory. You should know that the operation is highly experimental at this stage. You are the first person to undergo it, and therefore you will be under strict observation by both myself and Josie here."
Josie nodded lightly as affirmation.
"C-Can I meet my husband?" Chiani asked hesitantly.
"Chiani?!" On queue, her agitated husband burst into the room and frantically searched around for his wife. "Chiani!"
He rushed forward, prepared to pull his exhausted wife into a tight embrace. But his leap was interjected by Josie, who pulled him up by the back of his collar.
"Be conscious of your wife's health!" She reprimanded while nudging her eyes towards the exposed stitch line snaking below Chiani's belly.
"W-What happened?"
"The procedure was successful," Jean explained. "We've managed to extract the baby boy," she said while pointing at the wrapped baby.
The man collapsed to his knees and crawled towards the baby apprehensively. A myriad of warm emotions surfaced on his face as tears gushed out of his eyes. With quivering lips, he leaned over the baby. He consciously held his arms back, afraid that any sudden movements might hurt the precious bundle.
"My boy," he muttered. "My star."
Chiani reached towards her shuddering husband with a similarly shuddering and weak arm. She held the man's hand with as much energy she could muster.
"He's our star," she said.
"That's right!" The mean agreed. "Our Star."
This emotional display was what Guy was exposed to upon returning to reality. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Guy receded from the room. His face and gaze were blank and monotone. With robotic steps, he weaved through the village while avoiding social interactions, and returned to his room in the orphanage. His mind wasn't preoccupied with that near-death experience against the other Guy. While the fear lingered at the back of his mind, his thoughts were wholly concerned with the points the other Guy raised while attempting his hostile takeover.
Amidst all those lies, one truth stood out to Guy. Even in his past life, Guy had been excessively passive in his endeavours. He was satisfied with influencing changes at a slow and steady pace. But Guy recognised the futility of these ventures in the long run.
'Although disruption leads to an imminent backlash, it is the one that leaves the longest lasting effects.' People are naturally averse to changes, even if they feel that their current trajectory will lead to stagnation or decline. In such a trajectory, minor nudges won't cause any noticeable shifts.
'I should have come at it with a heavier fist," Guy concluded. 'Maybe I would have been perceived as the bad guy. But I would have helped a lot more people down the line.'
And that led Guy to his current conclusion. 'I cannot live this life as passively as my last one. I was given a second chance, I should exploit it to explore a different lifestyle. This fruitless restart has gone long enough.'
Guy exhaled loudly, releasing a metaphorical knot from his soul. "It is time to make a new start. A better start!" He said out loud.
"But before that," Guy stopped himself.
'Mast,' Guy called out. 'We have a lot to discuss.'