Quoted By:
<span class="mu-r">You're right. This, we've done it. Together.</span>
<span class="mu-g">Just relax. Deep breathes now. It's over.</span>
"You know. This was actually pretty damn good." The critic licks the reddish-brown grease covering her lips. "Felt like I tasted fifteen different kinds of meat in one, how did you do it?"
<span class="mu-b">Through trial and error.</span>
<span class="mu-g">Through love and care.</span>
<span class="mu-r">Through obsession and blood.</span>
"I never had something quite like it." The bronze assistant pours a bottle of wine for the Critic, which she gladly accepts.
"It is my pleasure." You state. "It is my best meal yet."
"It still needs a lot of improvement, don't get me wrong." Your eye twitches. "The sausage was overcooked, the steak needed more tenderizing..."
<span class="mu-r">not again not AGAIN NOT AGAI-</span>
<span class="mu-g">It's fine. It was never the meal that was important.</span>
"...While eating at a containment cell is quaint, there could've been far more decoration and atmosphere. And the wine is far too warm. It's serviceable but there is a lot of room for improvement. I give it three out of five stars."
She prepares to get up from her chair. Right before she does, you can't help yourself. For the first time in three years, you take in a deep breath in. You feel air rushing down your throat. Such a foreign experience.
And you let it out. A machine must be perfect, but a <span class="mu-b">man doesn't have to.</span> The critic slowly steps back as your metal skin starts to flake off and turn into dust.
"That's alright. I admit, I knew it wasn't going to be perfect." The first blink of three years.
"...Are you...who I think you are?" Recognition is slowly dawning on her face.
The two machines get up from their seats and slowly back up, as if expecting you to attack. You look down at your right arm. Nothing but flesh and bone now. You look at your right arm. Warm, wet <span class="mu-r">blood</span> is pouring from the stump.
Your vision is getting blurry.
"My meals weren't perfect. They never were, and I forced those around me to think they are." More metal flakes off you. "But I finally found perfection. It was in front of me all alone."
<span class="mu-r">I don't need to be perfect anymore. I can just be...</span>
<span class="mu-b">A machine is a machine. A machine is perfect. You are not perfect.</span>
<span class="mu-g">And that's fine. The journey here was all worth it.</span>
"I don't need to chase it anymore. I don't need to subject myself to consuming myself...any..."
Your bloodloss gets to you. But, you said your peace. You're content with whatever happens next. A small smile crosses your face. Everything goes to black as your legs give up. Even if you don't wake up...
<span class="mu-g">There's no need to obsess about it anymore. Even if you die, you'll die free from it.</span>
