Consolation

Raise. Turn around. Throw it. Another ice cube slides across the platform. A hundred thousand, a million — he doesn’t count. He can’t get distracted. He can’t mix it up. Ice is cold. Cold is stability. Stability is… Raise. Turn around. Throw it. Stability is not progress, but neither is it degradation. Stability is confidence in the future. That the ice won’t melt. That they will not disappear completely. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. Another ice cube sinks into the water and floats away, swaying, as he turns to take a new one. Ice is cold. The ice will reach the Core. Cool it down without letting it get hot. The Core is life. The Core is the light in the window, this Mettaton on TV, working cameras and puzzles. But he doesn’t remember that. For him, the Core is the meaning of everyday life. An opportunity to occupy yourself. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. The opportunity to forget…

***

He doesn’t remember who he was then. He doesn’t remember much of his past life at all. Did he find the war or was he born after it? Was he someone, or was he no one? Those times can’t be remembered, can’t be brought back. A time when the hope of the monsters grew and grew stronger, when somewhere far away, near the new capital, the construction of the Core had just begun. A time when many monsters — he included-moved meekly toward common goals, thoughtless and oblivious to everything around them. That’s who he was. Until she came along. She appeared on his doorstep, emerging from the evening blizzard — a haggard figure wrapped in a loose robe. He didn’t have many visitors, and he was glad of the unexpected company… until the robe slid to the floor. His guest was the queen. He was ready to collapse on the spot with shame. His house was visited by the queen! And he didn’t even have any decent pants — why, he didn’t have any pants at all! But the Queen didn’t seem to care. Grief and despair tormented her, clouding her eyes with hurt. Her beautiful eyes… They hadn’t spoken much all evening. He didn’t ask, she didn’t tell. Later, much later, not from her, he heard the story of why she had run away from her home in the night, running away from the king she had once loved. But now he didn’t know. He only saw before him a poor fugitive who needed shelter and comfort. He was the one who could give it to her. And she did not remain in debt. Neither of them must have realized when or how it happened. How it happened that the queen’s paws were put in the fur on his chest. How his paws trembled around her, gradually descending lower and lower. How first their lips, and then their souls, came together in a sudden flash. Loneliness overtook them both, and, fearing it, they rushed to seek safety. Two lonely monsters found each other, giving and taking quiet comfort under the howling of the storm outside the walls of a simple shack. She had given him the awakening from a bad dream that he had misunderstood as his life. He gave her the comfort and quiet affection she needed after her loss. They only had one night, and that was enough. In the morning, when he woke up, she wasn’t there *** She’s gone. She’s run away. She’s dissolved like a golden dream. She’s left him howling like a wolf out of loneliness. Happiness was fragile, and its fragments cut to the blood. There was a patch of white fur on the bed, the only reminder of the happiest day of his life. He had hidden it long ago, forcing himself to forget about it. He couldn’t break down. Not now, and certainly not then. And then… then he was close. Shards of happiness were embedded in him, and anyone else would not have been able to withstand the pain of holding a bottle or a noose. He couldn’t. She gave him hope. He hoped, he wanted to believe, that this wasn’t a chance encounter. It wasn’t the desperation of two souls longing for warmth. He wanted to believe… That she remembered him. What she needs it. He couldn’t let her down. Meanwhile, he wasn’t the only one suffering. To the blows that shook the kingdom, another was added. The royal scientist, the architect of the Core, the one who would sooner or later have found a way to free them from their captivity-was gone. Disappeared, according to rumors, in his unfinished brainchild. The hope of progress for the monsters was over. But there was still hope for stability. For the Core worked. It worked at a level that more than covered the needs of the kingdom. However, the strength of the magma from which it drew its energy was at the same time a deadly weakness. The core had to be cooled. Continuously. Constantly. Routine, exhausting work that leaves no energy for anything else. For the sake of stability. For the sake of survival. For the sake of hope. He volunteered at once. For the sake of her. *** Raise. Turn around. Throw it. His hands wrap around the block of ice, tight but careful. He doesn’t want to, can’t afford to forget what it’s like to hug the queen. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. He felt that his work would soon be over. A little more and he would be free again. But this time he would have a purpose. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. When it’s over, he’ll buy himself some pants. This time he would stand before her as a queen should. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. He would find her, no matter what. They’ll be together. He would do anything to make her happy with him. And let the only thing he can do is throw ice. But he can do it perfectly. Raise. Turn around. Throw it. He would find her. And they will never part again.