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Scattered photographs all over the floor, beneath an ultra-violet light.

Amongst this collection of photographs are memories. Some of those memories bring smiles to faces. Others simply aggravate old scars. Many of the photographs are pieces of art, painstakingly produced by professionals who can see the beauty in anything. Still, others are fossils, historical records, meant to document some great, Arcadian moment in history, or some intimate, family gathering.

It is plain to see, not all photographs are created equal.

But some of the photographs strewn about the floor here are damaged.

Photographs meant to expose, meant to shed light on the actions of another.

But they don’t always do their job.

Sometimes the damage just sheds light on the man behind the lens…

Light is a precious thing.

Yet under the right conditions, light is a weapon.

Take this collection of photographs all over the floor. Are they not all that makes up a human? Memories. Art. History.

What are we, besides that stuff?

And yet with one ultra-violet light, this collection of photographs are overexposed and begin to drain of their color. Given enough light, and all of these photographs will fade entirely, like a soul exiting a body.

And isn’t that what has happened to you, Colt?

Like each and every one of us, you’re a collection of scattered photographs. In many ways, we are exactly the same. You, a structure of memory and art and history. Myself, the very same thing.

But the content of our photographs are so wildly different, we are not the same at all. You, the arrogant photographer who promised to shed light, and for whom much light was promised.

And look at you now, Colt.

You’re already overexposed.

A scientist shed just a tiny bit of light on you and your actions, and in your entire career of spying on Arcadians and taking their pictures, you’ve never been in greater danger.

The world knows you helped Zeus.

The very man your employers have been at odds with.

And if Caesar gets his hands on you… Well, you’ll have some painful new memories to add to your collection.

But the real trouble for you is that I’m not Caesar. Nor am I your employer. Nor am I Zeus.

I’m the light

I told you, Ramsey, much light was promised.

  1. And here I am.

The light that will finish your overexposure.

Because let’s face it, Colt.

Let’s face who you really are.

You are the man who is everything he says he isn’t. Your collection of photographs does not match what you’ve shown yourself to be when the light is shed on you.

You are a liar.

For all the photographs you’ve taken, truths about spouses and their faithfulness, truths about missing persons and runaway kids, truths about Zeus and his reign of power.

The only photographs that contain a lie are the ones that make up who you are.

But the light is coming.

Coming to expose you.

If not me, then who?

Kaiju Chiba