"Why put yourself through this? Isn't becoming my dog the happiest thing that could happen to you?"
Makima's voice held a hint of pity, but it made Morio Okawa's blood run colder.
She tightened her control over him once more.
Now Morio Okawa saw himself kneeling before Makima and swearing loyalty to her. The fabricated memory felt so real that he could even see the dust in the air.
Worse, he found himself beginning to believe it had happened three years ago, on a rainy night in the basement of this library.
"No... That isn't real!"
His resistance weakened, like a candle flame about to go out.
Real memories and a fabricated past clashed fiercely in his mind. With every collision, the real Morio Okawa grew a little harder to remember.
By the time Makima withdrew her finger, Morio Okawa's eyes had changed completely.
His anger and struggle were gone, replaced by an almost fanatical devotion.
"You're right, Mistress Makima."
He bowed slightly, his voice calm and firm. "I've always been your most loyal dog."
Makima regarded his reshaped will with satisfaction, as though admiring a perfect work of art.
"Go do what you're supposed to do."
She turned and left. Her footsteps faded through the empty library, leaving Morio Okawa standing alone.
His gaze followed her until she disappeared into the dusk. Only then did he slowly pick up the Communicator and begin doing what he was "supposed" to do.
Elsewhere, night deepened. The last train ran smoothly along the tracks, its carriage dimly lit and sparsely occupied.
After finishing work, Yor stepped aboard and spotted a familiar figure slumped in a corner seat. Yuri was fast asleep, his head hanging low and faint dark circles under his eyes.
Yor walked over and gently patted his shoulder. "Yuri? Yuri?"