Click. Click. Click.

the first last scene ever written

Flick Finger (FF) makes the climb to the highest slab of metal ore. The unnatural plateau stares back at him, lifeless. Stars shine dimly as he takes the 2 kg stone out of his pocket.

They call it a “stone” but it was always a complex piece of machinery - a black box, a hidden instrument, a painkiller. He brings it close to his ear, carefully holding it in both hands. His body is strong enough to hold a 3 kg load in one hand but he doesn’t want to take any chances with the peacemaker. Click. Click. Click.

He puts in on the slab and sits with his feet dangling without support. Is this how it feels? Everyone talked about the euphoria of wiping your mind clean — the lightheadedness, the freedom from the weight of memories. No one talked about the resistance in letting yourself go. If he does this, “he” won’t exist. “He” will be gone. “He” will be someone else.

He looks at the peacemaker lying beside him and it glows slightly as the light from the stars reflects and dances on its surface. It turns the glassy surface red, but with a depth he has never seen before. The surface may look solid but the reflections run kilometres deep. You can stare are the stone for centuries and still not see everything. Not everyone gets to see it — not everyone gets to die. Death is a blessing. He has always wanted this. He makes up his mind one last time.

He takes the stone again with both hands and carefully places it in front of his chest, aligned with his heart, as he was told by the alchemist. The stone is cold against his bare chest. Slowly, the peacemaker starts vibrating softly as it sync with the beating of his heart. FF holds his breath and waits for the transition to happen. He doesn’t know what to expect. The peacemaker changes from red to blue and if he thought the red was deep, the blue is deeper. The red was a reflection of the starlight in the stone. The blue is the reflection of his heart - and just like that, he feels it.

He lets out a surprised gasp as streams of memories rush out of him. He sees his old house, the river by the workshop, the night he met her — her. He sees her, and then he watches her die again, but it is fading. He sees his old life ripped apart and the failed revolts. He sees rows upon rows of workers being beaten for one person’s cowardice. He feels it again — the pain. It is fading. Then he sees her again, rushing into his arms, and slowly her image is fading too. Slowly…

He cannot bear it anymore. He pushes the stone away from his heart, breathless. What is he doing? Hundreds of his friends put their lives on the line for this stone. It is here — the cure to the pain. He doesn’t have to feel her die again. He doesn’t have to feel hopeless, again.

But he doesn’t want to forget. He doesn’t want to forget the love, the beauty, and the meaning of this life. He does not remember if he has lived other lives before this one — given up to the stone. It doesn’t matter. No, he cannot forget!

All this time — he wanted to free himself of the memories but he never understood that when he loses the pain, he also loses the joy. “He” wants to exist. He looks at the stone, burning bright blue in his hand, almost angry. Maybe all the people who used the peacemaker were just looking for another chance to realise that there is no good without bad. They took another chance to make new memories — happy and sad, pleasurable and painful, fun and boring — another chance to accept them fully. They erased themselves again and again until they became someone who could live with the burden of their own memories. There is no good without bad indeed, no pleasure without pain, no human without memories.

Who is he to kill himself? He looks at the stone as a single tear falls from his eyes. The stone dims, and slowly the light drains out from it. It no longer shines red or blue, just a dull piece of metal. It is not a peacemaker anymore — just a used stone with shadows of memories from the one who could not let go — who will not let go.

FF throws the stone off the edge. It lies there, at the bottom of the pit, shattered into a million pieces.

With love from Germany,
From the Ko-creators of Planet Berul.

here’s a song from us, only for uou