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To describe infinity was like being asked to find something that never existed. The very concept itself was malignant and wasting. She knew many in the recent centuries sought out infinity in their desire to remain, and died pitiful deaths before accomplishing anything. Their names were written in textbooks and only education marvelled at their failure. Rather than enjoying their mortality, they wasted away for an ideal. A futile belief. A lie.
The fate was laughable. And Mobius swore to spit on their faces and defy it all by evolving not only herself, but the entirety of humanity as well.
So, if someone were to ask the scientist to describe infinity, what would her answer be?
Freedom?
Or…
.
.
.
.
Regret?
Mobius was greeted by a world of white when she opened her eyes. Her movements were sluggish, and her body was entirely exhausted of energy. The brightness of the world around her was not blinding, much to her relief, but still seemed to strain her eyes upon view. Mobius lifted a hand to cup her cheek as she stared at the blankness absently, her fingertips brushed the many years-old bags that had formed beneath her sorry eyes.
The void itself seemed endless, and only on a normal day would she have been overjoyed by the sight. But she was greedy, insatiable, and utterly overrun by the desire, obsession, for her singular goal. A part of her was disappointed by it.
Where was she now?
Mobius’ aged knees cracked as she got herself to her feet with a bittered expression. Her white lab coat flocked down in a delayed manner at the movement. She couldn’t recall where she was or what she had been doing before waking. It irritated her.
The doctor took in a breath before turning. She had expected the bleak void to be empty with her and only her standing in it. It would have been fitting if that were the case, but she supposed not everything could abide by her expectations.
Mobius found their familiarity a relief. Her shoulders relaxed and the sigh that left her washed away her acquired tension to her surroundings. She couldn’t help but give them a terse smile. They had delicate skin and a shared exhaustion with Mobius. Their pastel green hair was untidy and unkept, neglected by their body’s overexertion. The doctor had always hassled them to get proper rest, but it always seemed her words fell onto deaf ears. It was a shame they overlooked their own health.
Admittedly, it had always stung Mobius to know she was partially the reason for it.
Nevertheless, Mobius stifled the thoughts down. Her assistant was here for a reason, simply standing in silence like a fool was not going to solve anything.
She knew asking how they got there was pointless, given that they both were in the clutches of the white void.
It was fruitless to try and escape a room with no doors too. But Mobius often fell victim to false hope, and though she would never admit it, her subordinates were frequently the ones who influenced her to do so.
‘Klein, where are we?’, she mouthed, reeling back momentarily when no words left her lips.
Of course.
She couldn’t help but kick herself for not suspecting something like that would occur. The void not only contained her, but muted her as well. Klein was her false hope in this situation, a temptation. It frustrated her. Her eyes dimmed in defeat as she pursed her lips together after finding she had little use for them. It was insulting to be tormented in such a way. Mobius subconsciously lifted her hand to her voice box with a frown and allowed her fingers to drag down the uneven surface of her throat.
She never realised how chilling the world around her was.
Perhaps she had died.
Klein was someone the doctor cherished, so it made sense she’d find her here of all places in the infinite space. She was an overachiever, both fun and easy to tease. If Mobius were to give her a task, she’d get it done no matter what. If she were to give her more than what she was contracted for, she’d get it done anyway. Mobius had always found it interesting that Klein had stepped into her office that day despite all the rumours. There were so many researchers with a better understanding of morals than Mobius. Her work was cruel and there were many times she had been described as 'the devil herself'. But Klein never once wavered in her devotion to her. She even went as far as bloodying her hands with the same sins.
In the quietness of the void, Klein’s voice startled her. It was foreign and didn’t feel as though it belonged.
“Doctor.” Kleins voice held its distinct flatness. It was nearly comforting. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for some time now.”
Mobius watched her assistant’s movements in silence. Klein folded her arms and gripped her sleeves in a way she would when she was saddened or conflicted. She couldn’t say anything, so the scientist merely gestured for her to continue.
“Forgive me if it is out of place but…” Klein paused. Her eyes were empty as they searched her face for approval despite the fact it had already been given. “Do you think we could have lived a better life if we weren’t in the MOTHs?”
The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. Klein had always noticeably been a hard one to read, so it surprised her that this was what seemed to be on her mind.
“If…the Honkai didn’t exist in the first place. Where would we be? Do you think we would have even met? I’m not saying I’d prefer a life that way, but how would you have lived without the necessity of the MANTIS operation, or your goal? Would you have been happy?”
What was she talking about? She was happy – content even. Her occupation in the MOTHs was nothing more than an amusing pleasure.
“Do you think you’re haunted by your power, Doctor Mobius? I see it in your expression whenever the MANTIS operation is spoken about. You cannot die, how could anyone be happy with that? You fear death more than anyone and brush it off without giving as much as a single word.” Klein continued, bearing an expression that could be described as regretful.
Mobius would have interjected had she not been muted.
To waste energy fretting over something that couldn’t happen was ridiculous. However, she couldn’t deny that the words didn’t twinge a sore spot in her mind. Her expression contorted with a mixture of hurt and confusion. The way Klein held herself tighter didn’t go unnoticed either.
“So, to make up for it, you strive for infinity, don’t you? Is it your freedom? If you were to achieve it, would you be free?” Klein’s head lowered and she swallowed hard. The shaky breath that left her was only a warning to the tears to come. “I’ve always wanted to know, Doctor. What are your favourite things? You’ve told me you like small animals, but what else is there? Why were you so distant with us? What was there to hide? Did you feel shame? Hurt? Guilt that there was something else for you to do instead?”
The crack in her assistant’s voice was deadly to her. Never in her life had Klein cried in front of her, nor had she ever spoken in such a way before. Mobius’ eyes narrowed, and she couldn’t help but mouth a few words to her in hopes it’d restore some sense in her. She had no idea what Klein was talking about.
Klein’s voice was shakier than before, it was a gradual change Mobius had taken note of the longer she spoke for. Her assistant’s knuckles went white with how much she was gripping her sleeves. Her posture signalled regret in her next words. “There is so much more to the world than infinity, Doctor. The nights we went out and drank so much that I had to carry you on my back to get you back to your room were the most enjoyable nights of my life.”
Infinity to her was like a life-changing discovery. And yet, her assistant grieved over everything she overlooked in her advances for her.
Mobius had always made sure to keep her subordinates at arm’s length, and yet, how had she possibly hurt her?
Why was she speaking in a way that it sounded like one of them was leaving?
If the world had let her, Mobius would have chewed her out until her tears had stopped falling. And yet, she could only stand pitifully in her silence, watching as her beloved assistant fell apart in front of her.
“I am so sorry for everything, Doctor Mobius.”
Mobius’ lips parted in surprise. She hated the way Klein’s voice cracked again with the words. When she looked down to the floor, she felt her throat run dry at the sight of her assistant’s feet beginning to disappear. Klein…was the one leaving.
“I wish things had been better, I wish things had never turned out this way!” The grief Klein’s voice reduced her to struck Mobius gravely. So much so that when Klein’s legs buckled and her knees hit the ground, Mobius knelt with her, unable to comprehend what was happening. She fumbled to find the words, despite knowing nothing would come out. What was she talking about? “There was so much more I wanted to do for you. I wanted to watch one of Miss Eden’s plays with you. I wanted to at least hear you bicker with Elysia once more. There was so, so much…”
The entirety of Klein’s lower half had almost completely faded away. By the time Mobius fumbled to reach for her assistant’s hand, it had already begun to fade as well, and her hands fell through the transparency. Her expression crumbled.
Klein swallowed, moving to look up at the doctor once more, wearing an expression Mobius had never wanted to see. Her shoulders now began to fade to. Her assistant looked as though there was so much more she wanted to say, and yet, she only finished with gratitude.“…Thank you, for everything, Doctor Mobius.”
Klein was slow to embrace the doctor for the last time. She wrapped her arms around her as though letting go would be the greatest sin of all. Her face stuffed itself into the crook of her neck, and the force Mobius topple onto her rear. The embrace felt wrong. It felt like a goodbye. It was wrong.
“I have always admired you and your work, Doctor. When I first met you, I was overwhelmed by your brilliance that I strove to be like you. You were the best boss I’ve ever had and…”
Mobius’ heart sank when her eyes followed the path of the disappearance to Klein’s head. It was all happening too fast. A part of her wanted to push her back and tell her what a fool she was, but the other part of her couldn’t bring herself to do it. She could feel the tears of her assistant soak through her coat. The wet patch on her shoulder had quickly doubled in size the more she spoke.
The breath Klein took was a shaky inhale as she clutched onto the doctor as tightly as she could, never wanting to leave. “…I’ll miss you.”
Mobius stared into the void absently as her assistant’s figure dissipated into thin air in front of her.
If someone were to ask her to describe infinity, her answer would be…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Regret.
Mobius’ eyes opened to the sound of beeping. There was a pulsing throb of pain coming from her stomach. It burned and felt as though she had been stabbed by a knife. The room around her was blurry, but even she could recognise what a hospital room looked like. When she veered her head to the left, she found a doctor she knew well standing beside her. He had a clipboard in hand and bore a regrettable expression. It was rare for the man to open his eyes, and the guilt in his pink gaze was nothing but a warning. He was hesitant to speak, and for good reason too. Because when he did, the world around seemed to lose all colour.
“I’m sorry, Doctor Mobius. Klein…”