Beating Heart of Machine

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After the boy left, Ollivan spent several long minutes breathing deeply and finding his calm. He thought that surely he had steered the young man true. And he nearly had, if not for the arrogant piss-head missing the point completely. Not only that, but Hemaut was planning to convince the rest of Machine of... what? That it has surpassed its own ambition without even realizing it? It seemed a ridiculous idea, but Hemaut believed it, and with so much earnest, he was liable to succeed in his convincing. He had done it well enough to himself, after all. And so Machine and it's civilization will be blindly submersed in their own ignorance.

What then was to become of the true ambition that was crafted, assigned, and ultimately forgotten? An archive now existed no longer to direct a search, but as a relic. A city was designed to give life to all, but that had been taken for granted long ago. No one considered what a marvel Machine was. Or more importantly, how it had come to be. Where were it's builders and designers? What had happened to the men who lived before men had always lived? What were their names?

This civilization, by design, has only ever looked forward, and that was the foolishness of Ollivan. Machine, the great monument to his existence and steward of eternal life should have been the memory of Ollivan in all minds. Yet it made sense for a man to be short-sighted when facing eternity. How could someone know the true value of eternity without ever knowing a mortal fear? There needed to be someone to refocus due acknowledgements. But there too Ollivan failed.

It really was pitiful how utterly and completely forgotten he was. Perhaps if someone were to really explore the history of Machine, they might find him. They might find how important he was to them all. That he was the true, beating heart of the city. That everything they were was owed to him.

Ollivan disconnected himself from Machine, did not bother to reattach his organs, and waited. At least this way, death was not so bitter. He would be in the minds of all again for a short while, remembered as the first man to die in a long time. Maybe then they will realize how important he was. As Machine begins to fail, they will start to ask why, and perhaps some smart individual will link the death of their city with that of a frail, old, forgotten man.

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