aionlogs | EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

Sovereign Citizens

VENERA

In contrast the Aion's last visit, they now arrive in Venera on a completely average day... or so it seems. Unlike Godsblood, Venera has been given no warning as to what's about to befall it; the Kenoma are simply authorized to arrive and begin their bloody work without fanfare. Even their entourage of Achamite soldier don't stick out that much; in the time since the plague left, the city has refilled with occupying forces. Notably, the Hylician ones seem to be keeping out of the way, almost as if they've heard some things and would rather not be involved too closely in what's to come.

As opposed to the ghost town it was during the plague, Venera is now reasonably active, with most attending to their usual business. Shops are open, and its people are withdrawn but superficially friendly when meeting strangers. Initially, the targets of the Kenoma hit list will have no way of knowing what's coming for them, but after the first couple attacks word will begin to spread. Those that have recently been engaging in seditious behavior will become harder to find, leaving their usual homes and workplaces to stay elsewhere, and making other attempts to escape the Regent's attention.

Once those alerts have been raised, the Kenoma will have to engage in more detective work to find their targets, questioning other Venerans and seeking out fugitives in the homes of their family and friends. In the meantime, some of those who believe they are in danger may become desperately enough to seek out the Pleroma directly, imploring them for aid. Unfortunately, seeking out one sect may just as easily draw the attention of the other. Most uninvolved Venerans will be too terrified to intervene one way or another, reluctant to aid in the persecution of their neighbors but fearful of consequences. If your Aion travels openly, it will take some effort to pin them down long enough to hold a conversation.

SEEDS OF DESPAIR

Several days into the culling of Venera, the Aions will have witnessed the city gradually withdraw into itself. The streets become vacant as more and more people decide it isn't worth the risk to be seen outside, abandoning work and play alike to hide out in their homes, refusing to answer their doors to all except the most desperate pleading. Those that can't avoid their daily obligations are quiet and morose, trying their best to remain unseen and unremarked upon.

If your character has been observed as a Kenoma, either now or in their previous visits to the city, the citizens will look upon them as if they are the messengers of death. If you are seen as a Pleroma, they will resist your gaze, as if fearing your presence alone might leave them marked. In rarer cases, you will see those with stronger spirits, with glares of hatred or determination. They are powerless now, but seeds have been sewn, and whether they are the seeds of despair or of action are yet unclear.

By the time the Kenoma's hit list has been fully addressed, several have been killed and several more have been rushed from their homes to flee the city entirely. There have been holes left in the tapestry of the community they were once part of. One way or another, their absence will be felt keenly by those they left behind.

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Venera?
Estinien has plans to get an early start for the Pleroma by teleporting to the Lover's shrine and flying somewhere closer to set up a portal from the ocean caves near the Godsblood Lodestone to a spot of farmland closer to Venera. Paul will be setting up a portal directly from Achamoth to one of the Achamite outposts in Venera.

How much force can the Kenoma use while interrogating Venerans?
While they are generally not permitted to kill Venerans who haven't tried to physically fight them, they will be permitted to apply both physical and mental pressure upon those that refuse to provide them with information regarding the whereabouts of their targets. This duress should be proportional to the resistance the Veneran is offering. The Regent is not inviting them to terrorize Venera on a level to a level they cannot reasonably blaim themselves for.

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( it's been a while, hasn't it?

the young man that's slid into the chair opposite matt has made it clear that he doesn't intend on staying there long. he sits in the chair sideways, once of his arms slung over its back and the other resting with his elbow on the table. his chin rests on an upturned palm, and one slender forefinger taps out a very slow, regular beat as he watches matt's expression with a reptilian sort of calculation playing out in his eyes. )

Yes, of course. And it's just as well, because you'll need to be prepared.

( as he speaks, his attention has drifted out over the room, taking into account each other individual in the room. he'd started doing so largely out of force of habit, but he also judges their distance and chooses his words to suit. he straightens up, forearm lying flat on the table, and he returns his gaze to matt. )

I was thinking we could work together today. I have something I need some help with.

[ It would be maudlin, though somewhat accurate, to say that Matt's gaze drifts to follow Makoto's fingers because of his recent misadventure. What's more accurate is that he's always been like this. He's always been interested in the way other people move, the way they sit and walk and arrange themselves. The tap, tap, tap strikes up a metronome in his mind, as if setting a rhythm Matt will have to follow.

His eyebrows arch. ]

You were? [ when is a good time to admit he doesnt know who he is ] Well ... I try to be helpful where I can. [ Or at least not actively detrimental, as per Regent instruction. Matt lifts his mug for a pull of coffee. ] And before this goes any further, remind me of your name?

( it's an interest that makoto has as well, though his is more learned than innate — one of the very first things he'd had to learn while working in hell was how to read its inhabitants. it had been challenging at first. never having been particularly social while human, he didn't have the best of bases to work from as reference, and the fickle whims and alien thought processes that could often possess demons had often left him far behind in those first few months. but, over time, he'd noticed patterns emerge. demons really weren't all that different than humans, he'd ended up thinking — they were all motivated to satisfy their personal desires, and they did so honestly, even if sometimes the method they pursued was less than honest. so to say: a demon might mislead and confound with a silver tongue to get what they wanted, but they would never try to justify that want beyond the explanation that it was simply there.

a contradiction, perhaps, but as J had told him when he was still human, "mortals are the only ones who struggle with contradiction." others simply saw it as yet another result of living. )

I should hope so.

( he feigns hurt at the question. it simply can't be that this disguise is that good, considering he doesn't even change his face — has it truly been that long? he sighs, turning to sit in the chair properly and both elbows on its surface. ) Really, Matt... I'm wounded that you would have forgotten our conversation, though I will admit, it was some time ago.

( the pad of one forefinger traces a few lines across the surface of the table, and as it does so, the same symbol begins to trace itself across the page of paper in front of matt, beneath the accoutrements of breakfast. it's just an illusion, and one that would disappear in a moment or two, but the illusion of a large M drawn across the parchment as if with blood is a striking one. ) I trust you've been keeping yourself out of trouble since?

( perhaps a little too much. )

[ That is ... definitely something. Matt's not unsettled by the appearance of the scarlet letter so much as intrigued, though, with an artisan's professional interest in the hue and verisimilitude of the sigil. He tends to "write" and "draw" in light (or more accurately, in the manifestation of his own magical ability, the way Matt visualizes it), and it's never occurred to him to do otherwise. But with the expanded access to illusion magic that the Kenoma affords, that's a choice rather than a limitation.

But let's not get distracted from the letter itself. Matt frowns at it a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he looks back to M's face with both realization and chagrin. ]

Oh, wow, I-- [ Matt gives a pale, sheepish laugh. He's somewhat relieved, actually: He remembers having had a friendly, if surprisingly intimate conversation with M all those months ago. ] I'm so sorry. It's been kind of a time lately.

I mean, I guess it always is. Anyway, sorry I didn't recognize you. I might have been overindexing on the ... [ Matt lifts his right hand stop-sign-style, fingers fluttering to indicate wings. He skips right past that question about keeping out of trouble--the answer is too complicated--and onto: ] It's nice to see you.

What'd you want my help with?

( makoto is nothing if not sanguine — he had spent many of his more innocent years as a somewhat-unwilling tenant of a mind that saw fit to paint upon all of its walls with bloody and violent ideations, thoughts that pushed from "reverie" to "fascination" to "fixation" until they began to verge on "compulsion," no matter how much he attempted to redirect, to clamp down, to try to satisfy in small concessions made pouring through the pages of macabre books. this had impressed itself into his soul prior to his mortal death and after, going so far as to color his shard a similar wine-red hue.

he crosses his arms one over the other, still leaning heavily onto the surface of the table. he grins broadly in an expression that looks earnest enough, but... one can never tell with demons, can they? )

Likewise. And no need to apologize. I've been remiss in keeping up, myself. That and, ( his voice drops to a conspiratorial decibel, ) it wouldn't be much of a disguise if I was that easy to recognize, would it?

( it does seem like having features like the long hair, the strange eyes, the draconic wings... help in his ability to hide himself in plain sight. or maybe matt is just exceptionally unobservant? hm. food for thought, at least.

anyway. down to brass tacks. )

I've got a lead. ( he sits up a bit straighter in his chair. ) Or perhaps I should say a hunch. I wanted to do a little investigating to see if I could confirm it. The only problem is, the last time I did something like this, I had someone with certain talents I don't by my side to help me where I fell short. ( ah, kieran. poor, sweet, stupid kieran. sometimes he misses him; he'd been a good and loyal pet. ) I was hoping that you might be willing to do the same for me now.

[ ~~look we don't need to talk about how badly merc misunderstood what the illusion was exactly rip~~

Matt's eyebrows arch curiously. He interprets "certain talents" as relating to magic, which makes sense. That was how they met: Matt flexing his magical muscles after days parched of them, M winged and fascinating in the firelight.

On the one hand, Matt doesn't relish any part of this assignment in Venera. If arresting the Regent's detractors relates in some way to their ultimate goal of birthing a better universe, the Regent never explained how and Matt has yet to see the connection. On the other ... at least magic is in Matt's wheelhouse. It's what he's good at. It's (most of) what he gave up his hand for. If he looks even slightly into the future to try to imagine what M might want his help with, the possibilities seem sour, but--

He won't try to imagine it, for now. He can't. He's too tired. ]

What kind of hunch are we talking? [ Matt takes another sip from his coffee mug. ] And uh, what do you want my help with exactly? I don't remember if we really got into it, [ all he remembers getting into is the scar on his cheek, and the demon who put it there, ] but I'm self-taught, so there's some gaps in my knowledge. Trying new spells ...

Used to take time. And I don't know how it works here.

( in makoto's mind, they are not in a position to pick and choose. despite his particular proclivities, he has never really gone out of his way to cause suffering to others, or at least not without a moderately good reason (in his mind, being incredibly pissed off is a good reason, but that doesn't really apply here). this work isn't really something he leaps into with relish, but... it is just that. work. to him, meting out these arms-length deaths is old hat, simply another former occupation that he had left behind, along with the years he had spent working at datenshou's brothel. to those souls he had reaped at the conclusion of their contracts, well, they had known from the very beginning what the price would be. each time he'd been summoned, he'd told them the price would be their life. was the outcome here really so different? these individuals had made their mistakes of being so outwardly obvious in their sedition that they were marked for it. surely they could have imagined the risks as well. ensuring that they fall into the hands of achamite guards to makoto is not so different from ensuring a contract is followed to its letter, concluding in fire and ash.

that was his small scale reasoning, at least. on a wider scale, he'd guessed at the Regent's intentions while still standing in their court, and it was that conclusion which had led him directly to matt. they are calling bluffs and winnowing out wheat from the chaff. it might end up being that the deaths of the marked venerans are just an additional benefit, a bonus to help keep the locals' heads down.

the real question is how many Kenoma break before they bend. )

I've been having trouble tracking someone down. Asking around the correct neighborhoods, speaking with known acquaintances... no one seems to know where he might have gone, and they clammed up quickly as soon as I said the name.

( the man in question is on the list in front of matt: gibraltar, known both for smuggling portions of the crops grown in the fields outside venera to the needy within the town's walls, rather than sending the lion's share to achamoth as was demanded by their occupiers. he'd done so smoothly enough to avoid suspicion for some time, though recent boldness with providing shelter to Pleroma Aions and refugees on their way out of the city had dashed all that hard work.

all trails leading to the man himself are old and dry, as far as makoto is concerned. so he needs to find new ones. )

I won't ask too much of you. I just need some help with a little digging. I've tracked down a few people that work for him, and I want to see if they provide more insight than those I've spoken to up until this point.

( it is true that he isn't aware of the full scope of matt's magical talents. he recalls something along the lines of telekinesis... which is useful enough. really, he had planned on figuring out use for him after getting him to agree; coercing him to accompany him is the primary goal, after all. he smiles, disarmingly placid. ) Perhaps we could talk about it on the way there. Who knows — perhaps our talents will cover for one another well.

[ Oof, well. Here they are in the future, where they're going to single out for early entropy a man whose only crime is feeding people. Matt can't help a wince.

A moment later, he rolls his left wrist, trying to play it off like maybe he's felt some phantom pain that happened to coincide with M's statements, but there's a noticeable gap between the reaction and the movement.

What he can't help wondering is: Why would M ask him for help with digging up difficult leads? Matt doesn't know a lot about what other Kenoma think of him, but he's pretty sure "great detective and/or interrogator" don't make the list. In terms of what's known about him ... that has some troubling possibilities. Matt's been pretty close-lipped about his powers--the only people who have a real, comprehensive sense of them are Howl and Ciel--and yet when Xishen approached him, she knew about his sympathetic magic abilities without being told. Could Ciel have shared it with her, in that friendly and efficient way she has? And if she did, who else knows? A memory of his own words surfaces from the back of his mind: You can track someone's location, or compel them to tell you the truth, you can put a curse on them to make them unlucky or sick.

He'd known even then that it was a bad idea. Risky. Achamoth is a small place when you're an Aion. ]

Yeah, [ Matt says slowly. ] Let's talk on the way. I feel like I don't know much about what you can do, actually--my fault for talking about myself so much last time. [ He musters a small smile. Then, seeing no way around what's to come, he takes a gulp of his coffee to drain the mug. ] I'm not actually that hungry, so I'm good to go now.

Edited 2022-07-28 20:04 (UTC)

( and a demon that had trained himself over the last years to pick up on all of the subtle minutia of reactions and tells of demons doing their very best to guard themselves against his scrutiny can pick up on that wince like it was lit up in neon lights. really, matt makes himself all too obvious. if it didn't feel like it would actively detriment his watchfulness over him, he would tell him to work on that.

and, no, trying to pass it off with the roll of his wrist isn't going to fool him, not when the timing with makoto's implication had been infinitely more timely.

of course the real truth of the matter was that makoto had come after matt less because of the task at hand (which he likely could have done himself — he might not seem it, but makoto does have a decent amount of investigative experience, given that he'd had to scour through the history of the slums in hell to find information about J's past) and more because he wants to weigh the man's convictions. he might not have a full picture of what he hides, but he certainly gets the sense that there's more to what he can do than he lets on. which presents the demon with a fascinating puzzle: how can he poke and prod at him on this little mission of theirs so that he hopefully hands over that information without undue suspicion or duress? that, and will the moral conflict of what they are ultimately building towards doing — arresting and having a man killed for doing little more than champion for his own people in his own way — ever cause him to hesitate?

makoto gives a single laugh, his smile a single upturned corner of his mouth, as if hooked by something unseen. ) You say that as if I wasn't the one asking you questions about it all. But yes, good. Let's be off, then.

( makoto stands, but lingers by the table long enough to make sure that matt picks up and stows away the list of names with suitable surreptitiousness. if he's careless in any way, he will get a needle-sharp glare from the demon.

but once he's ready, he breaks into a smile and leads the way, headed out into the streets and angling towards the harbor district. )

Unfortunately, I don't have much to tell you. I was actually quite disappointed after receiving this body from my master — I told him at the time that, if I was to be a demon, I might as well have a body with wings or horns or the like. ( he sucks a breath in through his teeth. ) He told me if I wanted anything like that, I'd have to get them myself. Which, by the way, is the story of those wings of mine that you saw. ( he shoots matt a sly grin, dangerous as a blade hidden flush against one's wrist. ) They were originally J's brother's. He - gave them to me, after a fashion.

( of course, he'd originally intended on stealing them. but after makoto had manipulated him, seduced him, and then maneuvered him into breaking a contract he'd never been meant to be able to fulfill... he'd offered them to him willingly. ah, makoto had liked that pathetic man, too desperate and too human by nature by far. he had taken his head home in a suitcase and kept it for later, but... well, kieran is just as dead and gone as any other demon from home. besides himself and J, of course. )

And all the abilities that the laws of Hell gave me — those involving contracts and the like — don't have any purchase here. So most of what I can do, I've had to develop since arriving in Horos.

[ Matt actually is careful as he folds and stows away the list, though not, perhaps, for the reasons one might expect. There's the piece of him that's hoping to delay the inevitable. But also, with only one hand, folding things isn't the mindless task it used to be. Matt slides the list into his lap, where in concert with his fingers, the paper begins to fold itself until its names are obscured. Matt slides the list into the satchel slung over his shoulder, and roots around to make sure he has the things he'll need for the day: some herbs and flowers from the marketplace, chalk, a few stubby candles. Some other odds and ends he thought would aid spellcasting. Only then does he stand and follow M out.

He listens curiously as M speaks. The notion of a master is a bit perturbing, and "after a fashion" seems to be doing a lot of heavy lifting, but Matt's aware he's only hearing a small sliver of what makes up M's story--his existence. The idea of acquiring elements of one's appearance is, on the whole, fascinating. And maybe one Matt can understand better now, if in reverse. ]

There were stories where I came from about abilities granted by contracts, [ Matt considers, ] but usually I think they focused on the gift or ability that the contractee got. I hadn't thought about a demon gaining anything from them.

[ Blithely, he adds, ] I don't think I realized you and J were from the same ... hell.

( if makoto has noticed the loss of matt's hand (uncertain if it would have been up until this point but he has to at some point?), he doesn't make any outward notice of it besides a somewhat raised eyebrow and faint interest. one isn't really going to find any innate aversion to such a physical injury from a demon who can and has had his head removed from his body enough times and for such a variety of reasons that it's almost becoming "casual." that interest (and an instinct that has been burgeoning since his attunement to the Kenoma deepened and he was taught how to use it) causes him to look a bit closer with True Sight, which would reveal... something very interesting indeed.

he wouldn't mention it. not yet, anyhow. but... perhaps matt would want to have that looked at? on certainly wouldn't want the shape of their soul unraveling around an existential injury to the substance of their being.

he breathes out through his teeth in a hiss; this is obviously a bit of a sore spot for him. )

Most demons don't need to gain anything from a contract to a human besides what they get out of it in the end. But that is, of course, because most demons have magic and abilities that are either a part of them intrinsically or that they've learned over time.

( he's... actually not really sure which was the case, actually. datenshou's use of alluring scents seemed like something innate to him, given he was an incensate. kieran's shapeshifting was no uncommon ability in hell, but his proficiency at it surely was — most demons struggled to hold a different form for too long, but J's brother seemed to be able to do so almost indefinitely. and then there was all the strange magic that J could do, so much he wasn't even really sure of his full capabilities... he just isn't sure.

all he knows is that he doesn't have a scrap of it. )

Being formerly human, I was not given that luxury. This place has been far more generous to me thus far than Hell ever was.

( his attention changes, sharpening and losing much of its offhandedness, as matt mentions J. he looks at him curiously, but a little warily as well. ) Ah. So you've met him. ( those words are a little too smooth. placid, deep, dark waters that could hide a monster. )

J is the demon that I contracted, when I was still human. The same one that brought me into hell.

[ By now, Matt's past the point where he can hide his stump under the table or behind his back. It's wrapped in dark strips of cloth, Achamoth's apparent answer to compression sleeves, but his left hand is very definitely Not There. He's working so hard to not notice what M makes of that that he almost misses the hiss.

He's a little surprised to hear of a power differential like that among demons. And that some of them used to be human, but not all of them. It's a little surprising, too, to hear even a glimmer of envy for magical abilities. Matt's heard certain microaggressions on the subject before (never directed at him, thanks to his largely successful closeting): You're so lucky! If I had telekinesis, I'd never have to hire movers again. But a lot of humans on his world seemed to regard magic with suspicion at best, a barely-concealed disdain as the middle mode. Open hostility at worst. ]

Well, I'm glad you're finding this place more conducive to, ah, magical growth, [ Matt starts to say. He probably would have done more musing on the subject, but Makoto's reveal shocks him off that tangent. ]

Oh. [ He hears the sharpness, the oily smoothing-out, but he's not sure what to make of it. ] That seems like ... it could bring up a lot of emotions.

[ Matt can't imagine how he'd react if the demon he summoned showed up here. He can't even imagine how it would look--though he'd guess not like J, with his beautiful face and strangely adorable toe beans. ]

( it's certainly a point of interest. and while makoto can understand why matt might be anxious about it or what others might think... makoto's been dismembered and beheaded so many times that he has a fairly skewed perspective of the concept. also given that, should his history have been allowed to progress normally in his own world, he would have ended up taking on building and augmenting demon bodies according to his own twisted whims, there's a fledgling instinct in him to offer to try to help with it, but —

given the state of their bodies, such injuries aren't limited to the body. and give the odd sort of fraying around the edges of it that he can see when focusing with true sight... no, it's probably best to leave it be and merely hope it doesn't get worse from there. )

It's certainly one thing this place makes easier.

( if he does manage to figure out how to do magic in hell, it would have likely taken him over a hundred years to do so. )

But of course. ( he says it with a broad, easy smile — somewhat chilling, considering how he continues on to say just as casually, ) But it's just as well. If he hadn't managed to find his way here on his own, I would have promised anything and everything in order to get him here regardless. His life is, after all, mine.

( just... you know... very unobtrusively staking his yandere claim.

anyways, moving on: ) As for what might benefit us now, I have recently developed a little trick that allows me to teleport to a place within eyesight, up to a certain distance away. It might help us get into the place I'm interested in searching, though I was curious if you had anything else that might contribute.

[ It would be inaccurate to say that Matt has no idea what M might mean by that statement. The problem is that he has too many ideas. Is this a life debt situation? Some kind of Uno Reverse Demon-Summoning Loophole? Something more emotional? To Matt, the straightforward statement becomes something cryptic, a puzzle box that only context could unriddle. In the moment, he says politely: ]

Huh.

[ Before tensing as M brings them back to their true purpose here. Matt takes in the information about teleporting with wary interest, even a muted awe--before he came here, he'd never met anyone who could teleport; he'd barely even heard of it happening. Now Paul can do it, and apparently M can do it--as a consummate magical nerd, Matt finds it incredible. But it doesn't solve his problem here. ]

I don't know what you might've heard, [ Matt hedges, glancing to M's face and finding nothing useful there. ] But a lot of the flashy-sounding things I can do really have limited utility if you don't have a cooperative subject. Like who's just going to hand over their hair, right? So I'll still help however I can, but if you don't need to burn something down or turn invisible, I'm not sure about the applicability.

( in makoto's mind, it's many of those things, but it's also a not-so-subtle staking of one's claim.

that matt would miss out on that... might end up being problematic, in the long run.

he hasn't heard very much — not besides what matt himself has confided to him now and in the past. he listens carefully, attentively, and instead of his mien closing off like a door shut in the face of something unwanted or not useful, he instead brightens. no, he doesn't necessarily want to commit arson just yet (though that might be a splendid threat to keep in one's back pocket, so to say). but invisibility was not without its use, especially if makoto managed to get into the building he was hoping to be able to... )

So, if I was able to get you a sample of the person in question's hair, what would you be able to learn from it?

( hypothetically, of course. )

[ ... Oh, hell.

As soon as the words were out, Matt should've known he'd said too much. Maybe he did know on some level, but the swell of nerves washed everything into a uniform shade of scarlet. If everything is a red-light alarm, what does one phrase matter over another?

A lot, clearly. Matt spends a minute trying to figure out what to say, or more accurately, what he doesn't have to say. But he's not sure how, when he still doesn't know what M knows. Who he might have talked to. ]

Uhh ...

Well, if you did that, I could track the person down. Which is redundant if you already know where they are. [ Downplay, downplay, downplay. ] There's a bunch of other potential implications of that kind of magic, but I haven't worked extensively with most of them.

( his backpedaling might as well be lit in neon lights. matt, please. if you wanted to deal with demons — repeatedly, as if it were a habit — you might as well either learn how to better lie or cut your losses and not even try in the first place. makoto shoots him a look sidelong that verges on annoyance, lips threatening to draw back from his teeth... but he forces the feeling down.

no, it wouldn't be very constructive to get aggravated with him so early on.

he takes a breath, and then he exhales it in a long sigh. )

Matt... My target is not the young man that owns this home. I have no intention of bringing harm to him or his family. That having been said... I need to frighten him enough that he will give up the one whose name is on that list.

( his gaze returns, acidic with the fierceness of its focus. when he speaks, his voice is still calm, but with the dangerous calm of something still and dark and which could belie something savage lying in wait. ) Is that what's causing you to hold back?

[ This also doesn't seem like a question Matt can answer.

Of course, the list is what's causing him to hold back. The politics of it, the moral grime. It's one thing to destroy the universe. In Matt's mind, it's like unplugging a vast machine: a small action that ripples. This, in contrast, feels personal. Ugly and quotidian. Are they ushering in the birth of a new world with this secret policing, or just running a tyrant's bloody errands?

Unlike Paul, M doesn't strike Matt as a receptive audience for these doubts. Part of that is projection: Matt can't imagine that demons have the same moral compunctions he does, even ones who used to be human. Part of it's the perception that M makes a much better soldier than Matt. However justified (or not) his hesitations may be, if there's one thing Matt's not going to say, it's that he doesn't believe in what they're doing. All he knows is that eventually, everyone here will have to die.

So what he says isn't an answer. Not exactly. In its own way, though, it's true. ]

I just don't want to promise something I'm not sure I can do.

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EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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