[ WP ] An immortal being is explaining why he would like to die

`` I would say that you're the best at what you do and you should know better than to ask such questions, but that would n't be entirely true, would it?'' Jason adjusted the microphone on his shirt and slid his hand back into the pocket of his slacks. `` In fact - what is it that you do again? Now that I think about it, I do n't think it's anything. Is that right? It's nothing, is n't it?'' 
 
 Aidan pressed and held a small black button on the console. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and a little electric buzz of pain shot through the side of his mouth, then he spoke. 
 
 `` I am a businessman, Mr. Hawthorne,'' he said evenly. `` And considering the amount of money you have offered for this service, I would suspend etiquette just long enough to submit that I am an *excellent* businessman. But I am also a scientist, and from time to time I ca n't help but let my curiosity get the better of me. I should n't have asked.'' 
 
 `` Oh, what nonsense,'' Jason said with a shrug. He stood in the center of the chamber like a man waiting for a bus, passive, even bored, his shoulders slumped and pale blue eyes searching lazily for something interesting to settle upon. They found nothing. `` Here you are, Mr. *Scientist*, Mr. *Businessman*, on the verge of making the as-yet most educated and strategic effort to destroy what is likely the most brilliant natural wonder to appear on God's green earth, and you think you can just be cool about it? I think you have something against me. Either that or you're really sweating underneath that silly cashmere sweater. Which is it?'' 
 
 There was a soft little creak as Aidan's toes curled up inside of his leather loafers. His finger hesitated over the button, then fell. 
 
 `` This is n't about me, Mr. Hawthorne. I was only trying to make you think about this decision one last time before it's too late.'' 
 
 `` Oh, right, yes, well, hmmm, you know, maybe you're right,'' Jason looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then leveled his gaze back at Aidan through the thick, milky glass. `` Actually, it occurs to me now that *I'm 3000 fucking years old man! * And oh, wait, another revelation! I've been thinking about this since before your entire lineage existed!'' 
 
 He paced, and for some time there was only the metallic *tap tap tap* of his footfalls echoing through the chamber. Aidan busied himself with some obscure configuration, and Jason sighed. 
 
 `` Look, Aidan, I'm sorry,'' he finally said. Aidan paused, looked up. `` You really want an answer? From the heart, as the expression goes?'' 
 
 Silence again, but only for a moment. 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 Jason continued to pace, his furrowed brow softening just a little as he stared at the floor. 
 
 `` I suppose I just want to contribute somehow, you know? I want to do something meaningful. Aside from all the existential dread and damning curiosity, I have this persistent need to stop consuming, stop taking, stop plowing through the ashes of a billion better men and follow through. Does that make sense?'' 
 
 `` It certainly sounds noble.'' 
 
 `` I should n't have said anything,'' Jason said, taking up his post at the center of the chamber once again. 
 
 `` No, I'm sorry. Please continue.'' 
 
 `` Well, it's just - do you understand how many people had to die in order for something like this to even exist?'' He raised his hands now, gesturing toward the pristine walls curving up and over him. `` Men and women spent their entire lives etching out just a piece, just a *sliver* of what it took to make this technology a reality, and they did it knowing that they only had a finite amount of time to do it. And there are people like that behind every aspect of our lives, you know? Mathematics, literature, philosophy, politics, *society*, all these abstracts and logical structures and emotions which mold our lives are pieced together from the dust of a trillion souls, all of which I share absolutely nothing in common with. I exist entirely for myself, a monumental vacuum of finite resources and remarkable ideas and earth-shattering experiences which I never, ever deserved. So what is there for me to do, Aidan? What can be done now that I believe I understand my true nature?'' 
 
 Silence. 
 
 `` God forbid there be another like me. Do you understand that it could mean the end of this whole wonderful mess? *God forbid it. * So that's the realization, Aidan. That's my contribution, or at least I hope. To find out how to dispel this heinous fucking shackle that's been placed upon me, and in so doing release any others who might one day come after me.'' 
 
 It was finished. The preparation had been complete for nearly five minutes, and Aidan only stared through the glass at the strange, wondrous man still standing there, waiting, hoping. He pressed the button one last time. 
 
 `` We're ready, Mr. Hawthorne,'' he said. 
 
 `` Well Jesus, it's about time. And call me Jason.'' 
 
 `` Fair enough,'' he said. `` Jason.'' 
 
 He turned away from the brilliant flash of light, clenched his clammy hands together, and for the first time really considered what the man had said. The light faded from the wall like a whisper, and as the stark grey and metal bled back into simple reality around him, he felt something distant and familiar well up from deep within. Regret? Admiration? Hope? 
 
 Only silence.
