Étude of Humanity

Chapter Nineteen

Humanity is always incomplete.
That's the beauty of searching completeness.

Sayre Hisa.

It's rather a novel and an oddity how I always wanted to do a reality check. No-no, that was an identity check! If I were to pull up an existential crisis for myself, that would be why am I doing this to myself? People call that gaslighting, but imagine gaslighting yourself—not in a jokingly, motivating way but in a way that makes you wondie-wonder.

What's that toughie-mockie talk, Sayre? Giddy up! That's not you!

I don't know if that optimistic mood is for funsies or not. I have been getting that thought more frequently the more I begin to have this aching yet worrisome heavy feeling on my chest. It's like something that wants to overwrite what's left at me and enslave myself.

Sigh. It's not any better knowing everything because you're under attack at any direction mentally and figuratively.

Perhaps that's why it's called a syndrome after all; it's not any beneficial or anything, it's a hindrance.

It has been two years since I'm at MAME and still surprised how I'm still on the upper league of the enterprise ladder. The day is vivid like any other finding out I was leading one of MAME's divisions. But then, there's nothing else to share these two years because it's a repeating mundane hell of waking up to this syndicate and do office work with a twist that just happens to be techie.

It's repetitive, monotonous, appalling.

It may have something to do with me and papa's love for technology especially computers, but it's unredeeming, it's uninspiring, it's boring. It's like I wanna get out of this misery already.

It's not like Sayre is spoiled. In fact, I think the one who's spoiled is MAME itself, giving me all the insurance a person would be happy for: free food, money, and every scope of entertainment is present inside. Food for thought, I just need myself to start hacking and mining for money and get me the same thing that they can offer.

That's materialistic love, it's something that Sayre wants, but not necessarily need.

There is something that I need, but it's out of my reach. Either it's something that I don't know or it's already in my knowledge unexplored. I call this the worst con of being a savant! Knowing everything stresses me out in mere seconds trying to explore what fascinatingly is a huge library in my head.

"Hm! Good morning, queen."

Sayre nods to the security personnel that greets me at the lobby every morning I report. And no-no, MAME didn't suddenly turn into a noble monarch! That's what almost everyone here calls me with that alias since then.

And it's uncomfortable, deviant.

At the East Atrium while riding the elevator to our room, I looked at the big digital clock that's displayed high up. It reads November 27th, 7:32 AM. I don't know why I had the urge to mention this, but it's that I know everything that I might have forgotten how much time has passed. Or waitto, perhaps it's that I know how much time has passed but is buried so lost in my already filled up mind?

"Ah!" they bowed. "G-good morning, Aqua-sama!"

"Huh? Oh, well, good morning Yukki... You don't have to be so formal."

"S-sorry! I'll get back to work!" Yukki immediately walked back to the work room all the way at the back.

Sayre would be lying if I said that nothing much has happened for two years. Ever since my exceptional work in modernizing MAME's systems, the praise and hail that I get, especially from the Canonical Four, felt like they weren't real people anymore. As much as it feels like I'm enslaved than enjoying my reason for being, I feel like I'm spearheading slaves here.