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Lucifel's Ideal World, v.2
—The world is ugly, he once declared.
Chaos is inevitable in this world. Pure good can’t be achieved, and pure evil breaks down. And these two extremes are always incompatible with each other. There is still some evil in a good world. That is how the world is, and it is what continues to create ugly things. Evil sneers at good, and good rages over evil. But, in a world where good and evil oppose each other, there is a group that is far more numerous that always appears.
That is ‘grey’. Neither good nor evil. A group that drifts through life haphazardly and merely exists. They don’t believe in goodness and are simply proud that they aren’t evil. Even though they affirm evil acts, they deny evil intentions. They happily say that ‘I am not evil, I am a good person’ and pardon all forms of cruelty.
They kill people while sneering. They kill people out of contempt. They kill people as part of a game. They use the excuse that they can’t restrain their desires—That’s how humans are. That’s how the world is.
Yes—this world is extremely ugly. Neither dyed by good nor fallen into evil. Unable to decide on a color, the wills of people continue to waver. As long as such evil intentions and such foul-smelling corpses aren’t destroyed.
The world will surely continue to rot eternally.
While wrapped within a curse-like fog in darkness frozen to its core.
He thus concluded.
Powers are off.
Corruptions are off.
Carry-on Weapons are not available.
Other carry-on items are available.
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is this happening for real ]
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[What else are you supposed to do?]
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soon enough his eyes open, and he looks to k— ]
. . . Ah.
[ with a smile, though perhaps it's a little pained ]
Hello, there.
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[This seems so irreverent as to border on sacrilege.
[What the actual fuck is he supposed to say? Hi, so I know you're on this shitty game show with me and you do maid cafe lives and you lose your mind every so often and you really love guys with tats and I've probably literally killed you a whole bunch of times, but are you--]
... what do I call you?
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What do you know to call me?
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[He breaks off.
[He never has known how to be subtle.]
You're Amakusa, right? Amakusa Shirou. She said it's not what you go by but it's your name, isn't it?
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[ spoken softly at first, but with a clear voice, growing bolder with each line: he doesn't shout but his voice projects anyway, the mark of an experienced public speaker, a leader. ]
. . . I am the son of Masuda Jinbei, the prophecised fourth child of Amakusa.
I led the rebellion against the Tokugawa in Shimabara.
Yes—I am Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.
Re: 『Heaven's Grass』
[How do you react to that? It's second only to asking, say... some guy on Bad End, are you literally Jesus, and whoever-it-is going 'yes, actually I am'.]
You... know you're basically a saint, right? I - I mean the Church say it's not official, but... you know, it's like - we don't - it's not like... it doesn't matter?
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So I've heard.
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I don't remember much. But I guess they covered it in Sunday School or something.
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. . . That's right. In ordinary textbooks, they don't give us more than a paragraph at best—but indeed, if you learned it in a church, they'd naturally speak more of it.
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But I'm a Catholic, so...
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Please, speak your mind. Amakusa Shirou that I may be, am I not still a fellow amnesiac—an idol, just like you? And before that, am I not human, just like you?
Be comfortable, please. I'm still "Lucifel", you know?
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The flowers.
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How many people died in the Shimabara Rebellion?
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[He doesn't even have to think of it. It's just there. Like Francis Xavier and the Twenty-Six Martyrs and reading Silence round the class.]
Was it here?
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[ placing a hand to his chest ]
For they are with me, here—even as I walk this earth, they are always with me.