"Was it worth dying for?"
Watching Rorschach's expression gradually darken, Heisenberg thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"I thought you wouldn't ask such a question, because no one understood better than you that death was merely a fact. It never needed to have any value."
"No, death is the result, Heisenberg."
Rorschach shook his head in reply.
"With a result, we can see the process, and the process can prove many things.
I want to know the process of his death. In that process, who did his life help, and how?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Rorschach slipped both hands into the pockets of his trench coat and continued expressionlessly.
"Answer me, you... person I cannot describe at all.
No matter how vague and illusory your so-called goal of becoming omnipotent may be, since you need some so-called help from me, you ought to meet my demands.
You claim to understand me, so you should know that I never help anyone. Everything ought to be based on mutual need."
"Fine."
Hearing Rorschach's words, Heisenberg nodded readily. Then, beneath Rorschach's faintly expectant gaze, Heisenberg began telling a story before the blue Earth, upon the desolate surface of Mars—a story far colder than this barren planet.
"You want to know the truth behind everything.
Let me think. I truly don't know where to begin.
Of course, I can explain it clearly, so let's start with the heart of it all.
Doctor Manhattan!"
As he said that, Heisenberg clapped his hands, and a phantom of Doctor Manhattan immediately appeared before him.
At first, it was merely a phantom he had created. Yet once the phantom had fully taken shape, Doctor Manhattan actually began to move on his own.
The phantom looked calmly at Heisenberg and gave a slight nod before