Lightning had been feeling rather troubled recently.
Death prevention was a noble cause, and he didn't think of it as being any lesser; despite having concerns over whether or not he was fit for the job, he decided to join Death P.A.C.T. in search of a new home to feel welcome in. Having been used as an instrument of death and chaos himself, just like his fellow teammate Black Hole, he'd developed some sort of appreciation for the beauty of life, and could see the merit in protecting it at all costs. In a world like the Battle for Dream Island, however, even something as pure and good as *that* can end up being frowned upon; kicking and killing people all in the name of some random prize (that you likely weren't ever gonna see) was the whole name of the game. They had to play aggressively enough to stay in the game and not get the boot while *also* being kind and merciful enough to not cause a few casualties themselves. As a result, while everyone does feel some sort of fatigue after an episode, the members of Death P.A.C.T. often feel *more* so.
What really was the more important goal here? It seems like a silly question that could be easily answered by anyone with common sense, but this competition had driven so many of them for so long, and coupled with the fact that anyone could be brought back from the dead with just the snap of one's fingers or the whirring of a recovery center, that their minds had gotten pretty warped, perceiving things in an *extremely* different manner. Was there really a point in working themselves to the point of collapse in their quest to prevent death, when the prize up for grabs is a power so limitless and large that they could use it to stop death forever? Was there really a point in preventing death at all in a world that was so casual and chill about it? Was there really a point in *anything*? All that thinking, all those questions, and absolutely *no* answers. It troubled Lightning plenty. It *angered* him. And the more he got angry, the more he
Why's Remote just sitting there?
"Hey, uh... Remote-y." He'd float on over to her out of sheer curiosity; as a mechanical mind, she was always a bit different from the rest of her fellow death preventers, but nothing really quite proved that like right now. She was just standing there, motionless, not even breathing. Robots don't even need oxygen, after all. "What's the deal with you?" For a moment, the machine just kept on staying still with a thousand-yard stare, finally blinking once. "Sorry, needed to finish up on something there." She'd finally say in her monotone tone. "Finish... what?" Lightning raised an eyebrow. "I was just double-checking some statistics." "Statis... tics?" Lightning lowered himself down slightly, just barely keeping off the grass. "Stacks?" "I was comparing the number of deaths we have prevented, compared to the number of recorded deaths we know of." Remote replied, clarifying. "Our efforts to prevent death have increased the rate of prevention by 2,763; however, the rate of deaths happening has increased even further." "Woah, I, uh..." Lightning frowned, a bit confused. "...What's that mean?" "While we're preventing more deaths than ever, there have also been more deaths as well, meaning there is still a net negative." "...Huh." Lightning still didn't quite get it. "So, to clarify, we *are* preventing deaths, just not as much as there are deaths? Something like that?" "Affirmative." Remote replied. "That's one way to put it."
Lightning took a moment to process all that, making sure he got everything the right way around. "So we're doing... bad?" "Unfortunately, yes." Remote answered. "But we are doing better than yesterday; that's all that matters." The lightning bolt frowned again. "Doesn't that, like, worry you?" He'd ask. "Not at all." The remote responded. "It is natural that we are not doing so well; our numbers are only one sixth of what they could be. To expect us to do all the work would be quite an outlier." "But, like, if there's still deaths going on in the world, what's the point of all this?" Lightning asked. "We're supposed to be the ones keeping an eye out for stuff like that; even if we let just one slip through our fingers, that means we failed." "Well, failure is a subjective term." Remote remarked. "There are many ways to quantify and define it; in my opinion, while that would be a failure, it is not really as big of a failure as you presume it to be." "...Huh?" Lightning raised an eyebrow. "I could put it like this." Remote continued. "Say there is a situation that we do indeed fail to prevent one death, just like you said; then imagine a situation where we prevent two deaths. Do you think those two are the same?" Lightning thought about it for a moment. "...No. I guess." "And why is that?" Remote asked. "Well, one person dies in the first, and two die in the second; that's... different."
"And in the event that you have to have one of those scenarios occurs, which one would you want to happen?" Lightning grumbled. "What kinda conversation is this?" He'd remark out loud, though the remote wouldn't really care. "...The first. I suppose." "And why is that?" Remote repeated. "Because..." Lightning was growing more and more tired of this conversation by the second. "...It's obvious, isn't it?" "Perhaps." Remote remarked. "But I want to hear your rationale for it. Explain your decision-making for me." Lightning sighed. "Right." He'd nod. "Again, one person dies, or two people die. Two is greater than one, and dying is bad, so that's... worse." "Now you're getting it." Remote replied. "The way I see it, there are multiple definitions of failure: there are a near-infinite number of ways one can fail, each one varying ever so slightly on how bad it is. Just as one death is not as bad as two, us only preventing some deaths is not as bad as us preventing none at all." Lightning raised an eyebrow. "...I guess so." He'd concede. "And just because one can consider us as having failed, that does not mean we have to be a failure forever; if we learn from our mistakes, strive to be better, and end up preventing deaths better than yesterday, then even though we might still fail in some way, at the very least we have failed less. We have improved. And eventually, if we improve enough times, we will succeed."
"That's..." Lightning was unsure of how to feel about that. "*Somewhat* reassuring. In a weird way." "Weird in what sense?" Remote asked. "I mean, I *totally* get what you're saying." The bolt of lightning continued. "It doesn't matter if we fail, as long as we keep improving. Yeah?" "Yes." Remote nodded. "But, like, it's just... your language." Lightning went on. "It sounds all... formally. It's really taking my head for a spin." "I apologize." Remote replied. "As I said, I was parsing my death prevention statistics before we had this conversation; it is customary to report things in the most clear and professional language possible in order to prevent ambiguity." "Uh... Sure." Lightning just didn't get that at all. "But, like... we're friends, aren't we? Shouldn't you be fine with not... talking like that?" Remote paused for a moment. "Well, perhaps in some definition of it, yes." Lightning folded his arms. "Remote..." "My apologies." Remote continued. "In some subjective definitions of the word 'friend', we can be considered as such; to me, a friend is someone which one has a strong affection for." "Affection..." Lightning had only ever heard that word used in... *some* contexts. "You mean, like..."
They'd awkwardly stare at each other, flustered.
Lightning tried his hardest to work up a smile. "I mean, if you want to-"
"Hey, you two." Fanny suddenly entered the scene. "Tree says he wants us all over for some meeting; frankly, I don't want any part of it, but he-" She'd blink. "What... are you two doing?" "Just partaking in a bit of informal conversation." Remote replied. "Yeah! What she said." Lightning replied. "Just a bit of talk between friends, ya know?" The electric fan grumbled. "I *hate* mushy talk." She'd remark. "Just... get over here ASAP; I don't think that guy wants to wait." Lightning raised an eyebrow. "...What do you mean, you hate mushy talk?" The fan wasn't all too amused. "C'mon. We don't have all day." "No, I ain't going anywhere." The bolt of lightning shook his head. "Not until you tell me what's up with you." "I agree." Remote replied. "That is certainly an interesting topic." "You too? Are you kidding?" The one with the spinning blades seethed. "Seriously. I'm not playing around; I *never* do. Come with me." "Nuh-uh." Lightning shook his head. "You gotta tell us." "Indeed." Remote responded. "Do tell."
"GAH!" The one that hated everything let out a scream to let out steam. "This is *EXACTLY* why!" "Huh?" Lightning frowned. "What do you mean?" "This conversation has done *nothing* but WASTE our time, both mine and yours!" The one with the anger issues continued on her furious tirade. "We could've spent this time going to Tree and seeing what's up, but no! Instead, precious seconds of our finite lives are being thrown away just to have this dumb conversation! We've been told time and time again that every second of our lives is worth cherishing and preserving, and I've just about had it with that talk, considering that even *WE* think it's a load of garbage!" "Woah, woah." Lightning approached her, trying to be reassuring. "Calm down. I was just curious, is all. We'll be right over." The electric desk fan sighed. "What even *were* you two talking about, exactly?" Remote's interest was piqued. "I thought you said that our conversation did not matter." The fan grumbled. "Well, of *COURSE* it doesn't!" She'd snap. "It's just that when we inevitably arrive late, I wanna be able to tell Tree in *excruciating* detail just how you two held me up!"
Lightning sighed. "We were just talking about... what was it? Stack... State..." "Statistics." Remote replied. "I was taking a look at our death prevention records before he engaged in conversation." "You're worried about how much we're sucking, huh?" The one with the motor that spun things around wasn't too pleased. "Well, instead of having burned time away by talking about it, why didn't you just, you know, actually go out and prevent death? I *HATE* hypocrites! Now come on! We've wasted enough time as is." "Alright, alright." Lightning sighed. "Though I just gotta ask-" The living electric fan had just turned to start the walk back when she'd immediately spin right back around. "Why are you so *nosy*? I *HATE* people asking me about my business!" "Nosy?" Lightning frowned. "I wasn't... I was just trying to talk to you. You know, as friends?" "YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND!" The one that was angry all the time shouted. "I *HATE* YOU!" Lightning was hurt by that; even Remote was, and nobody was sure if she even had feelings. "Well... sorry." Lightning scratched his head. "I just... I thought we were, seeing as we're all on the same team, and-"
"Well, of *course* you'd think that!" The one with the temper problem ranted on. "But just think about it for a second, instead of just talking! We're all here, competing for the same prize; and as far as I'm aware, there's only one prize out there, and only one of us can get it! Even if we *do* manage to stick together, even if we all make it far, *eventually* we're gonna have to fight each other! That's just a fact!" Lightning frowned again. "We don't have to!" He'd reply. "I mean, we could just-" "Just think, how *else* could Two decide who to give their powers to? How else can *anyone* be worthy?" The angry one kept on shouting. "Of *course* you're gonna say that you'll stick around, that you'll still be my friend. But that's what they *always* say! Sooner or later, whenever it's convenient, you're *gonna* have to throw me under the bus all in the name of the competition! That's the way this whole thing goes! We're *driven* to hate each other! So, sorry if I don't wanna play pretend and waste my time; I've got a competition to win, and I know how it's gonna end! There's no reason for me to spend time on things that'll eventually come crashing down! I *HATE* BETRAYAL!"
She finally finished up her rant, and Lightning and Remote were... stunned. Silent. The talking fan sighed. "I'm going to Tree; you guys can come up with your own excuses for being late." With that, she'd angrily storm off, leaving them to deal with all their emotions.
Wasting yet more time.
