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“Oh, you're letting me pick? That's very nice of you. Even if it's not exactly traditional...”
<span class="mu-b">”I know. That doesn't bother me.”</span>
“Somewhere nice and quiet in the new colonies- a raw burial, no cremation or anything of course. So I can feed the biosphere. The Jaxtian way.”
<span class="mu-b">”Of course, I'll arrange it.”</span>
“Thank you, my Son. Even though you are my dynastic heir, I still believe you were the best choice for the Hegemony's future, but even if I didn't pick you, I just wanted you to know that I'd still love you all the same.”
<span class="mu-b">”Oh? Even if I wasn't Supreme material?”</span>
“Yes, of course. You don't have to earn it.”
<span class="mu-b">”Even if I ruin your legacy? Or if I succeed you, and declare your reign nothing but a footnote in my own, and decry your legacy as a soft and weak ruler; you'd still love me then?”</span> You ask, bitingly. You aren't sure why you're mad. You aren't supposed to be angry, you're supposed to be sad.
Avae smiles. “Yes my Son, even though it would hurt me if I could know you were doing them after my death, I would still love you all the same. Because you are my son, I will love you no matter what. Unconditionally.”
You hug your father and then he disappears into a pod, and his life is gone. It is sad, but it is the standard for your species. The alternative is your geriatric protien collapse syndrome; the current nemesis to Jaxtian longevity, far more painful and an inescapable limit to lifespan. The fact almost all Jaxtians will die in a euthanasia pod exactly like this, just like yourself, feels strangely humiliating in some way. The scientific, efficient method of minimizing suffering from a lifespan extended by the same system. That may be one such barrier you could break, if you were true to your word and truly did surpass your father's reign. Only time will tell.
Suddenly, after Avae's suicide, you receive a notice about your other living Supreme ancestor. This one, far more important. You must talk to him immediately after what has transpired.
“Hello our... master. My master.”
<span class="mu-b">”Hello my great, great, great, great... uhh... ancestor. Cijan Anak. If that is the... entity, I am speaking to.”</span>
“My conciousness remains the same. Logically, I know I <span class="mu-i">must</span> be Cijan Anak, but half of my perspective remembers what happened on Andoen uncountable years ago as happening today... and then I woke up in the body of an primate. It's a little weird.”
