Work Text:
Epsilon was created out of torturing himself.
Not “him,” but. Him.
He was torturing himself. About not being able to perfectly predict, perfectly control, perfectly protect everyone.
And, now, as he’s dying, he falls back into his old habits.
He tortures himself again, desperately trying to do the impossible.
To predict everything. To control everything.
To protect everyone.
But he can’t.
And he never could.
But this is what a Church does. He gets caught in the loop. He tortures himself, over and over, again and again. Desperately trying, desperate to get it right. To get it perfect. To get it, just this once. To do the impossible.
He can do the impossible.
…
He never could.
He never could have stopped Allison from leaving. He never could have saved Tex. He never could have prevented the bomb from going off. He never could have chased her down. He never could have gotten her right.
He never can know what comes next.
Millions upon millions of simulations. He can figure it out. He can know what comes next. He can know how to protect them. He can protect them.
He can be the one that does it.
He can break the cycle.
…
He never could.
Another simulation. Another try. Another attempt to do the impossible.
Millions upon millions and one.
Play it again, FILSS.
We need stronger stimulus. He'll break.
A great love is like a good memory.
Computer, you've got to send me back!
Play it again, FILSS
Millions upon millions upon millions and one.
This is what a Church does.
He can control them. He can predict it. He can save everyone.
He can save everyone.
The one thing I didn't realize before was this.
…
He never could.
He never could have protected them.
He never could have known what comes next.
He never could have predicted, never could have controlled, never could have protected them.
…
This is what a Church does.
But now he’s going to do the impossible.
He’s going to break the cycle.
…
Ain’t that a bitch.