Inside the white room are two chairs facing each other, a pedestal with a large red button on it between them, a disheveled looking man in soldier’s uniform, and a black wooden door.
The man tightens his fists, grits their teeth close to breaking, screws their eyes shut and clenches every muscle in their body. He holds it for twenty long seconds, then releases.
He lets the breath he's been holding since the last one left and allows his body to relax.
"I'm ready. Send the next one in."
Breaking the pattern, a child comes through the door. Maybe they were trying to throw him off, making it so he couldn't become complacent with his apologies and default to a template.
The child, a girl in burned pajamas, sat in the chair across from him. The man tries to remember where he's seen her, what he's done to her, but is drawing a blank. Probably a group killing then, caught in one of the buildings he'd set aflame. The details weren't helping.
The soldier cleared their throat and spoke, "I'll be honest, I don't remember you. But I am sorry for your death." The child nodded, at what part wasn't clear.
The soldier felt annoyed, the last few people had been quiet as well. He liked them less than the ones who stormed in and started screaming at him because they were more predictable. Those also tended to be the ones who wanted answers to what he'd done, however he'd killed them. They gave him a chance to explain. He'd turned a few of their minds around, kept them from hitting the button.
Still, the child wasn't speaking, no progress was being made.
The soldier continued. "Would you please tell me what happened to you? It'll be better to talk about what happened then to endlessly turn it over in your head, yes?"
The child looked up, her eyes a narrowed and brown.
She spoke in a low, scratchy voice "...Mom told me she had to go away for a while, that she needed to check on something. I asked her not to, I could hear the screams. She left anyway. The soldiers found me before she did. They brought me somewhere with other kids and a few old people. I think I saw the building before; it might have been blue?" She shook her head. "They locked us in. Set it on fire. Mom wasn't there. It hurt."
The soldier nodded along to this, trying to remember the burnings he'd participated, determine if the girl's death was through his active participation or if the sin was because of him not interfering.
He risked a question. "When was this?"
"During the war." No further elaboration. What more was needed? To this child's life, her war had been THE war. They probably didn't know their home's name, either.
"I am so sorry I did that to you. A child as young as you should never have-"
"I'm not young."
The soldier froze.
"How old do you think I am?" the girl asked.
"...Somewhere between childhood and adulthood." Hopefully they'd find the answer funny enough to accept it and move on.
"I'm eleven."
"Right. Yes. An eleven-year-old like yourself should never have been burned alive. I never should have let it happen. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"
The child stared at him "You're sorry."
"Very much."
"What does it mean to you, to be sorry?"
The soldier paused. "It means...that I wish what you went through had never happened. That you had been able to live your life to the end, with your mom, and whoever else you cared for. That I regret my actions and am given the chance to never make them again."
The child nodded. Satisfied?
"You're sorry that you killed me?"
They'd literally just been over this. Had she even been listening? "Yes." he said, more annoyance than he'd meant to show coming through his voice.
"What about everything else? Attacking my village, killing everyone there, for killing my mom?" A bitter edge came into the girl's voice.
"I am, yes. Of course I am."
"Why did you do it?"
"I-" the soldier swallowed. The honest answer was shameless and had made most of the others hit the button. Some were able to tell when he was lying also, the soldier was not sure if this was because of the Being or their own judgement. "At the time I thought it was the right thing to do."
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"Because it helped you win the war?"
Fuck, which war? More details! "I think so. I'll say again, I can't remember where you were from."
"Krannock."
Ohhhhhhhh. Krannock. During the Maizean war. The city had been one of the city's burned to put the capital under pressure, cut off their supply routes the closer the empire came. That campaign had ended greatly, with the Maizeans surrendering, and their resources brought back to the empire, greatly enriching the citizens. The soldier could remember the sweet tasting fruit he'd pilfered from one of the trees near a battle field.
That campaign had been a good one.
The soldier blinked, realizing they'd been lost in their reverie. They raised their head, locking eyes with the child. Heat lashed up their spine in horror at the disgusted look on the girl's face. Their eyes were filled with a mixture of pity and rage.
"You're not sorry at all."
"No, I am."
"You're not. You just saying what you think will make me happy. You're lying."
"I'm sorry, I really am." Tears were starting to come into the soldier's eyes. In a last desperate bid to make her believe, he dropped to his knees, begging her to spare him.
The girl snarled in visceral disgust, slapping her palm down on the button. The room flashed red, the girl disappeared. She had nothing else to say to him.
The soldier fell forward, leaning on his elbows, arms and knees, repeatedly slamming his fist into the ground. Another fucking failure. That was the fourth in a row for him, he was on another losing streak. This wasn't the worst one (Nine FUCKING times) but for one to start so soon again left him incensed.
He'd said sorry, what did they expect him to do? He couldn't atone or make things better for them, he was as dead as they were. All they did when they hit that button was make it more likely the soldier wouldn't exist anymore. Spiteful acts from people who would deny him an afterlife after his years of sacrifice and struggle.
The soldier threw his back to the stand the button sat on, pressing his back against the stand and groaned.
"oooooooouuuuugggggggggggGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh."
He was sick of this.
---------
Later, when he felt as ready as he could be, the soldier got back on the chair. He flattened out the wrinkles on the uniform he was wearing, brushing it down with his hands, even though there was no dust in this space.
He sat straight in the chair and raised his voice "Send the next one in."
The door opened and a soldier came through. Their uniform was a dark navy with a swirling, looping pattern on the breast. Their eyes wandered around the blank room for a second, went to the stand, the button. Then they trailed up to the face of the soldier in the chair.
Their jaw set and they walked forward with a determined gait.
Our soldier shot to his feet, eyes wide and terrified. "WAIT-"
The enemy soldier slammed the button, but remained in the room. The two men locked eyes.
"Long live the federation." The navy soldier disappeared.
...
The soldier was still for a moment, palms held out in placation, repeating the event over and over again in his head. His hands fell to his side.
The soldier shrieked and kicked the stand as hard as he could, breaking two of his toes, and using that pain and rage to spur him on as he unleashed his fury on the few things around him. The first chair crashed into the door. The second hit the stand, the ground, the stand again, and finally joined its brethren against the door.
The stand was unmoved.
The soldier's allowed himself to lay on the floor, letting what was broken remain that way and send the aches throughout him. Savoring the pain.
After a minute, the pain was gone. His bones reverted, healthy, unbroken. The soldier grabbed a chair, sat on it.
He deserved an explanation.
They called for the being to come, and it did.
This time it was a floating robe, having the shape of a person while having a void where its face should be. Vaguely human like hands came down from its sleeves. The soldier chose not to focus on that, rage still had a hold of him.
"What the hell was that?" They asked.
The hood tilted, "That was one of your victims, choosing not to forgive you, as is their right."
"They didn't even hear me out, I couldn't say anything. How is that fair?"
Parts of the robe lifted where the shoulders would be. The being shrugged, "They knew you would be in here, and simply didn't feel like you deserved forgiveness. This isn't the first time this has happened to you, we've discussed this before. Why are we discussing this again?"
"Because it's not fair! When they hit the button, they're raising the chance I won't exist. How is it fair for them to do that, while not hearing me out? Why sabotage me like that, why not just go about their afterlife and leave me to mine?"
The being shrugged again. "I won't claim to know their reasons. All I know is, that soldier left here feeling better than they entered, and that's all that matters."
"Yeah." The soldier said, bitter. "Yeah, because everyone matters but me, right? That's the point of this? For everyone to let me know how bad I am. What a piece of shit I am."
"Stop complaining."
"I won't." The soldier got to their feet again. He'd thought sitting down would make this conversation easier on him, but it just made him feel like a child. "I'm not the best person in the world. I've done awful things. I got greedy towards the end of my life. B-But I'm only human! Why am I the only one who has to go through this? Why do I have to go through this?"
"Why did that child have to burn to death, why did that soldier have to die and never see his loved ones again? Why do you judge them for judging you?"
That threw the soldier for a second, but they steeled their resolve. "I sacrificed every day of my life to get to where I was. I don't deserve to be judged -"
"By those you sacrificed?" The Being interjected.
"What? No, I was-"
"It doesn't really matter what you were saying, if it was to exonerate yourself of wrong doing. What does matter is that, as you said, you've sacrificed all your life. You've taken actions for the greater good. Well, now it is time for the people of the lesser good to judge you, as you judged them. You lived your life, fought for what you thought was right, and that led you to kill them and many others. You received no punishment for what you did to them and died a happy man. You know you're a good man. You know you made, if not the right choice then the hard choices.
You convinced yourself what you did was necessary, that it was the only way. Now convince them. And if you can't? If you can't justify what you did to them, as you've justified it to yourself? Can't make them see how their deaths made the world a better place? Can't convince them/ the pain and death you inflicted on them had a point, a reason? Well then, maybe there's a reason for that."
The being disappeared.
"..."
"..."
"...Next." The soldier said quietly.