don't go breaking my heart

[inaclearing]

[Well. All that sure happened!

Brett hasn't done much for one of these post-trial gatherings thus far, but he's been trying very hard to be functional lately, and...well, the fact that so many other people aren't okay right now just makes that all the more important. So he'll go around telling people, or slipping notes under doors if need be:]

We're going to have some food at the bar, if anyone wants it.

- Brett & Joy

[It feels a little weird to have it there, but...let's be honest. He expects quite a few people will be passing through the bar of the own accord tonight. They may as well not drink on empty stomachs.

There's not a ton going on. Brett's figured out how to turn the light-up dance floor off - it seemed a little inappropriate. Despite being hosted at the bar, Brett hasn't actually set out any alcohol; there's tamagoyaki and a big vat of chicken noodle soup sitting on some tables in the middle of the room, as well as tea for anyone who wants a drink that isn't alcoholic. Everyone who does want to drink can serve themselves. Also, someone has draped a rainbow pride flag over the bar? It seems appropriate given who's throwing the party, at least, and he didn't really have it in his to stop Joy, so.

You're free to turn on some music, if you want. Brett couldn't pick anything out on the jukebox, it seems.]

Comments

[onemillion]

[Today's been so much. Rossiu wants to just go to bed and hope things will be looking better on Sunday... but he gets the invitation and he decides to go. It's less because he wants the company or the food or even alcohol and more because... well, sometimes just putting in an appearance is good enough.

Though honestly, he doesn't really know what to do at the afterparty... He does end up preparing some tea so he'll be at a table sipping that if you want to join him! He's not really reaching out for conversation, but he's not opposed to it either - for now he's content to remain here and watch everyone else.

Later on, he heads to the ice cream parlor. It's unsurprisingly repaired and even though a murder took place here not all that long ago... he has a job to do. So he heads over to the jukebox and finds track 1921, like Aiba said. Feel free to join him if you overheard that conversation and want to hear Aiba's last words!]

1921

[pairtner]

I will attempt to make this short, as I'm aware I have done something that cannot be overlooked and my word most likely will be ignored.

This is my vote of confidence in the end you all will be the ones left standing, while this body is executed. As morbid as it is to leave this inside the jukebox Undertaker is beneath of, I had always intended to leave my last word here. If you find in yourself to listen, go ahead:

My designation is AI-Ball, one of the very few that exist. My name is Aiba. I was created for and assigned to special ABIS agent Kaname Date, as his eye, his assistant, and his companion. That is my duty for the foreseeable future. We AI-Balls take our partners' wellbeing very seriously, as we often are created specifically to be compatible with them. I would turn my back on ABIS itself if I had to, if it meant choosing between him and them.

That said...I was not ready to make a choice between him and twenty-four people from other worlds.

Do you know the trolley problem? The trolley problem is a thought experiment in ethics about a fictional scenario in which an onlooker has the choice to save 5 people in danger of being hit by a trolley, by diverting the trolley to kill just 1 person. This problem lies the ethical dilemma of acceptable sacrifices. I had the choice to save Date and anybody he could harm or kill, by diverting the metaphorical trolley into a route that would kill everyone currently alive in New Rapture. I considered such an option unacceptable, so I faced it as one death and my own destruction instead.

However, this is a weak justification. A thought experiment does not equate reality. I have taken a life. That's what matters here.

Now I understand how difficult such a decision is. At the start of all this, I already was unwilling to be destroyed given it would mean I would have no memory of everybody's plight in this city -- since I'm currently working with local memory, not connected to my central programming. After a while, though, I gained...personal reasons in addition to that. I wasn't meant to know and talk to others like I have during this last month. Through talking to you all I have known a social experience perhaps no AI-Ball is meant to ever know. If I were to put it into more relatable terms, it's like trying a limited edition soda knowing it won't exist next week. Were I to return home, I most likely never again would have such a...wide social circle.

But I'm not returning home. Once this body is destroyed, this fragment of myself will be gone as well. I exist, far away in my own world, unaware of this city and of you all. A person's memories are what creates their current selves, and that is especially true in AIs. The Aiba everyone knew here is...gone.

I am truly sorry it came to this due to my own actions. Among my regrets is the pain this undoubtedly caused many of you, both those who befriended Undertaker and those who befriended me.

I have taken absolutely no measures to conceal my actions in this parlor. I also performed suboptimal decisions. I cannot go against my core programming, as self-preservation is ingrained into me unless given direct admin command, but I can make a result I want happen indirectly. Just like I indirectly murdered Undertaker by setting everything here to kill him, this all also will serve as your weapons against me during the trial.

[Pause]

I have one single request. I left my personal portable radio in the Hall of Founders, stashed in a corner. It has some modifications to allow me to store my memories. I have been storing backups since I finished it. Last backup I made included the details of this plan, although I didn't know who the victim would be. If someday, in the astronomically, almost impossible chance you meet me, any AI-Ball, or you meet Kaname Date again...give them the radio and tell them it contains my memories.

It's selfish, but I want to remember everyone I met here and everything that has happened until now.

And I want to remember the crime I committed.

[Pause]

These are a few words from a song from my world. They feel ridiculous since I don't believe in them for myself -- but it might mean something to some of you. I cannot bring myself to sing right now, so perhaps reciting them will be enough...

Resist! Your dreams are worth defending!
Fight on! Your will is unbending!
See through the void in your eye: unblinking!
The pyramid of your mind: unending!
Revolt! Even with death impending!
Live on! Dream through space: rending!
Walking with the spirit of hope beside you,
and our hope shall never die!

[At the end there's a soft, embarrassed laugh. It's most likely the first time anyone has heard Aiba laugh at all]

I'm never living this one down, am I?

[The recording ends there]

[onemillion]

[Rossiu listens to all of that silently, and while his expression does a lot of different things at the explanation of the trolley problem (and the indirect explanation of why the hell that's his title), it eventually settles into something melancholy.

Aiba was faced with an impossible choice, and she chose to kill and take the fall for it. Two lives for Date's. A difficult decision, and one she clearly didn't make lightly.

Rossiu shakes his head.]

I'll carry out your final wish, Aiba.

[That much he can do. He just has to make it through this.]