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There were many things Void Archives hadn't taken into account when it came to having a human body that they now had to take care of, which was an odd thing to think about after being stuck in the form of a cube for so many years. At the very least, this body was made of soulium, which gave them an advantage when it came to certain things such as corrosion. Still, one thing they had never thought about was just how uncanny it would feel to look at their own reflection.
With one look at their face, one hearing of their voice, there was only one name that came to people's heads, and it was not their own. It included them as well, since they themselves couldn't see that same visage and see their own self, always seeing Otto Apocalypse instead. Of course, this was very much because their body was meant to resemble his in every way, but people would always notice when someone's mannerisms didn't match the vessel's. At least, that's how it was supposed to go. Whenever anyone looked at Void Archives, their minds always went to Otto, not them.
Even the Herrscher of Reason himself had noticed how their tone and way they talked was almost an exact replica of Otto's own speech, but how could it not have been? Having been stuck with nothing but his incessant ramblings for decades, they adapted to it like anyone else would pick up traits from that which was familiar to them. It made them furious, almost. It made Void Archives want to justify themselves and prove just how different they were to him, that they would never stoop so low as to have the same goal and way of life as their predecessor, but there was no use. Anyone who saw them would see him, that was final.
Drowned by guilt and feeling, trying to relieve himself into a self-justification that would be honored by no one, that was how Void Archives saw Otto Apocalypse. A complete and utter fool bound by his emotions, nothing more, nothing less. And themselves? They were different, of course. A fool, yes, but never bound by emotion. Void Archives was never given a choice as to what to be, and, as much as they would've imagined it would irritate them, they didn't seem to mind much. They'd rather be designated on a path rather than pick one for themselves, choosing seemed too difficult, too human.
Then again, everything about Void Archives seemed human to everyone else. The former Herrscher of Thunder had recognized their voice as belonging to their previous wielder, same for their face as well, once their mask had been broken by her blade. If they were being honest, they felt some sort of repulsion whenever they saw their own reflection, only being able to see Otto Apocalypse instead no matter how much they changed their appearance. Therefore, a mask was the easiest option forward. They'd avoid that sensation, and everyone else would avoid connecting them to that wretched person. Easy enough, right?
Not exactly. Everyone still treated Void Archives as if they were Otto Apocalypse. Those looks of fear and disgust on the Schicksal squads' faces weren't meant only for them, but for him. They almost snapped at the Herrscher of Reason when he'd said they had imitated his tone perfectly, making them raise their voice at him and having gotten a little irritated. Still, it was only the beginning of their misunderstandings. When people cowered in fear, it was the fear that Otto had inflicted in them. When they fought, it was with the determination to stop him. Why was it that the wicked man followed them wherever they went? It was a curse, one that would've made Void Archives laugh if it weren't for the disgust they felt towards him.
But, at least, they hadn't had to see his face with that mask on. One that was later destroyed, and they decided not to replace it once it had broken, knowing having to fix such a fragile thing time and time again would just be a futile attempt at hiding something that couldn't be hidden either way. If not his face, they'd recognize his voice, so what was another thing added to the pile?
Surprisingly, the first person to have pointed out the similarities between Void Archives and Otto had also been the first to see them for themselves. When Welt Yang spoke, he spoke to them, not him. When he frowned or scoffed at any of his actions, even though it was a negative reaction, he was doing it for them, not him. Whatever he did, he did for them, and it was something they found themselves thankful for, somewhat. It was nice to be seen. It was nice to be seen and for people to see you instead of someone else. And, in the rare occasion that Welt did smile, he smiled for them. It was an odd thing to think about, since they'd always smile at everything, yet he was the first to ever smile back. It was then that Void Archives' usual grin faltered, instead replaced with a genuine, confused expression, having been taken off guard.
And now, Himeko and March 7th had also seen Void Archives for themselves, having no one to compare them to. After having been in someone else's shadow for so long, being just themselves was oddly reassuring. Sure, the two were wary around them due to the way they'd behave, but it was something they'd caused.
Even in the face of death, Welt hadn't rejected them, only showing them his own ideals, which they'd obviously laughed at. But it was not in amusement, rather, in endearment. How had such an empathetic and caring person like him ended up with someone like them? At first, that empathy worked against them, since he saw Void Archives as inhumane, but it turned out differently. They knew he saw them as human now, and he knew they knew he knew. They knew he knew they knew that he knew, and he knew that they knew he knew they knew that he knew, and so on.
Void Archives didn't call him out on it, though, and Welt did the same. It was an unspoken bond that neither of them dared to speak on, as if said connection would've been broken the moment it was acknowledged. Welt wasn't supposed to care for the inhumane, after all, and they weren't meant to be human. As long as it went unaddressed, everything would've been fine. But an unspoken rule only went so far, since those kinds of things are broken eventually. The first instance of that line being crossed was Welt's doing.
"Archives." He'd spoken up when the both of them had been sitting silently on the couch of the Express, and he'd turned his head to look at the stars outside the window that covered a big portion of the wall. "Do you remember the last time we saw the stars from our universe?"
"I do." Void Archives had replied, having had a few ideas as to where the conversation was going already, but having wanted Welt himself to elaborate. There was no sense in deduction when the future was already upon you, anyway.
Welt had hesitated for a moment, as if the topic wasn't something he was meant to mention, but collected himself with a sigh after a few moments. He'd looked at them from the side as he kept his hands on the table, mindlessly fiddling with a handful of cards as if keeping them busy would prevent him from doing something else with them. For a brief moment, they would've thought he was worried for them, but that thought was quickly cast aside. There was no reason for him to worry.
"Well, I know this is a little sudden, but… I've just been thinking about it, I suppose, and I couldn't get it off my mind." Welt started to say, using unnecessary amounts of words in order to delay his actual point, making them a little confused as to what about them could've troubled him this much. "I know you probably don't think much of it, but did you really mean to stay on that ship that day? Alone? Stranded in nothingness?"
There it was again, him speaking to Void Archives as if they were human. They'd been alone for eons, why did it matter if they were to have spent another few more in solitude? What had changed since then? Had they themselves changed? They raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, their smile getting a little weaker as confusion started to set in instead.
"It would not have been the first time." They'd replied, but it had come out as more of a question rather than a statement, asking Welt what the point of his words had been.
"Does it not bother you?" A foolish question, one that had made them laugh, not needing to respond since Welt had already known the answer to that. Of course it hadn't bothered them. Not outloud, anyway.
Perhaps, in that invisible bond they shared, Void Archives would've been comfortable letting him know of the way they had felt. It was easy to deny if it was never spoken, easy to say nothing had happened when it was only a mutual feeling. Logistically speaking, nothing had happened that day. Only a simple conversation had taken place.
But Welt knew their lack of response was more of a reply than mere words. To ask something of a machine and get no response meant that it was no machine, that it had enough self awareness to decide if it wanted to answer or not. But it was still subtle enough to deny, leaving him with the seed of doubt that they might be human as much as they might not be. It was to form a relationship without taking the risk of trusting someone, a phantom bond. To speak of it would be to acknowledge it, which would solidify its existence, and that was too much for Void Archives.
They knew they'd have to leave Welt eventually, so they avoided having any sort of emotional connection to him. After all, you couldn't miss something you never had, right? It was easier to let things go when there was nothing you were holding on to to begin with. Still, that question of what if? lingered in Void Archives' head whenever the both of them would talk. What if they were to speak their mind? What if they were to speak kindly to him, to appreciate him in the way they believed he truly deserved? What if they were to initiate some kind of physical contact, like, say, holding his hand? Preposterous.
Still, Void Archives had not collected themselves entirely even after having gone away from their world, away from that responsibility. With their mask gone, they had to look at their reflection time and time again, and it was driving them mad. But, then, getting another mask would be proof that it made them uncomfortable, and they would never admit to any kind of emotion so openly. Even if Welt or the others didn't know, they would've, and that was bad enough.
They kept looking outside the window at the stars in the same way they had before, but had the consequence of their reflection also being part of it. They forced themselves to look at it, to be unfazed by it. It was only a face. It wasn't actually him. They knew that, they were sure of it. But, then, why was it so hard to do something as simple as looking at themselves without having such human thoughts? They were fine, this was fine. Void Archives clenched their fist subconsciously as they looked at themselves in the glass, holding in a breath, too wrapped up in their thoughts to notice their friend who had walked up to them in concern.
"Archives?" Welt spoke softly, unsure if he should even say anything as he didn't want to startle them when they seemed so unusually distraught.
To be fair, Void Archives didn't look much different at that moment, not to the untrained eye, but there were things you'd notice were off about their demeanor if you really knew them. They'd never stare so intensely at anything, less at themselves, and they'd always move gracefully and slowly, not with the pressure in which they were clenching their fist right now. Welt gathered the confidence to place a hand on their shoulder, earning him a wide-eyed glance from them.
"Archives." He repeated himself, not letting go of them even as their hands relaxed. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"
Void Archives seemed to be a bit taken off-guard by the genuine care in his voice, and opened their mouth to speak before closing it in less than a second again, unsure of what to say. They kept their gaze on Welt, as if transfixed, not wanting to stare back into the window. He frowned at the lack of response in the same way he had once before, his hand sliding down to their arm now instead and looking at them with a worried expression. Such a display would've made them look away, but looking away would've meant going back to where they were looking before, and that was the last thing they wanted to do.
Welt didn't quite know what was wrong, but he did know something was off from the moment he spotted them, and the way Void Archives was glaring back at him so intensely felt almost like an unspoken call for help. Even though they'd managed to collect themselves a little, their usual smile was still missing, which just added more to the concern he currently felt for them.
"I'm well, yes." Liar, Welt's gaze practically screamed the moment their words were out of their mouth. But it was not accusatory or interrogative, it was a look of worry. It wasn't him saying you're lying, but rather why do you feel the need to lie?
Still, there was one thing that did soothe Void Archives: that worry, that care Welt was showing so freely, it was for them. Nobody else, just them. It was not something someone like Otto would've received from him, not ever. Perhaps it was selfish to want to keep that for themselves. They didn't seem to mind being selfish, however. Welt sighed after a brief moment of silence, pulling his hand away from their arm in order to stretch out his own arms towards them, offering them a hug.
"Here, come." Welt said simply, and they blinked, unsure of how to return such a gesture. What did that mean, again?
Still a little dazed, Void Archives took one of Welt's outstretched hands in their own, and he seemed to be a little confused and surprised at the action, though, not in a bad way, particularly. It seemed that he had just been expecting something different, though the result was ultimately the same. He blinked a little, and they could've sworn there was a slight tint of red on his cheeks when he coughed into their free hand.
"I, uh- That's not…" Welt started to retort, but stopped himself once he saw Void Archives tilt their head in confusion and worry, as if they were afraid of some sort of rejection. "Oh, whatever."
With those words, he stepped towards them and wrapped his free arm around them, making them stop whatever they were about to do right in their tracks. Were they even going to do anything, anyway? They couldn't find it in themselves to move, not as Welt's hand gently held their own while the other was wrapped around them, keeping them close. Void Archives' own head was yelling for them to do something, be it pulling away or leaning into the contact, but they couldn't find it in themselves to do anything at all, stuck in the affection they'd been given. It wasn't something common for them to be shown such care. Not even common, but plainly impossible. Well, they had thought it was impossible.
Welt didn't seem to mind their lack of a response, keeping them in the embrace, knowing that Void Archives not immediately pulling away meant that they wanted this. They'd never say something out loud if it was connected to emotional matters, after all, so it was up to him to decode what they needed. And, right then, they just needed someone there, someone who would stay by their side and comfort them silently. That was fine, Welt could do that.
He said nothing as Void Archives moved to rest their head on his shoulder. Not of fear of them possibly running away if he was to point anything out, but because they must've that silence. If it hadn't been blocked by his vision, he would've even seen them smile when he let them stay with him. But that was fine, he could sense it.
Once, Void Archives had listened in amusement as Welt had spoken on how human beings needed other people in order to truly feel like themselves, and they'd scoffed at him as they usually would've. However, if he were to say that to them now, they would've just listened in silence. Because, at that moment with him, they felt like themselves.