“Is that all?”
I said to the person in front of me, and looked behind me to see a bunch of boxes containing various stuff.
“Yes, you just have to classify them and submit the list of items to the manager.”
After saying that, he turned back and left me alone.
I walked to the closest box, opened it, and started working. It was a package of anomalous objects, something I rarely worked with; they are usually miscellaneous after all. But it’s nice that sometimes I would be able to find something entertaining, so I rather enjoy the process. Today’s package was pretty small, so the sooner I was done, the more free time I’d have. Pushing irrelevant thoughts aside, I started separating each item: there was a pair of socks that were always wet on one side when worn, a fishing rod that could only fish up frogs, etc.
“This will be fun.”
As time passed by, I was also almost finished with my work, and only one item was left.
“What can this do?”
My hand held a weathered book, its cover made of leather, and it was soft to the touch. I glanced at the list to read information about it.
“Hmn, a notebook that automatically records the memories and dying wishes of dead people in Site-19.”
As experienced as I was, this still surprised me. This is the first time I had seen an item with such a special effect. A sense of curiosity suddenly welled up in me, compelling me to open the notebook. I found a spot to sit down. Opening the notebook, what caught my eye first was a declaration.
“Only when we listen, only when we believe, and only when we accept..”
I had not a clue what that meant, but I had the feeling that it was trying to remind me of something.
“I didn’t expect my end to come this early, but I just cannot take this anymore.”
That was one of the first lines written in the notebook. The writing was crooked, as if it had been jotted down quickly.
I continued reading.
“I used to see this as a wonderful job. After all, who wouldn’t want to give a hand in saving the world, and who wouldn’t want to be heralded as a hero… But I was wrong.”
“I still vividly remember the day I was recruited to the Foundation. The excitement, the anticipation, and the words of encouragement from the higher-ups made me believe that this was the right choice, that I had potential, that I was somehow more special than the rest. Only when I saw the truth at its core did I realise how foolish I had been. I witnessed how cheap life became, the horrors I was forced to learn to accept, and the cold attitude of the Foundation.”
“At first, I tried to deceive myself, hypnotizing myself into believing this was a necessary evil, that if it wasn’t me, someone else would do it anyway. I had maintained that belief until that day.”
“I don’t want to remember.”
“But it will never stop haunting me, so I must remember, because otherwise I could never forgive myself.”
“That day, with my own hands, I killed a person… no, it was a monster. Or at least that’s what the Foundation told me. But I knew too well that deep down, it wasn’t evil, it didn’t know what it was, like a newborn child. It just needed help, and I provided it with just that. We played together, learnt together, and did everything together. I thought I’d finally found something good, that I was on the right track. But I was wrong. Everything spiraled out of control.”
“Please help me…”
“It looked right into my eyes, begging for help. And I just stood here helplessly, until I finally ended its suffering.”
The writing was shaky, tormented, as if each stroke of the pen was carved into the paper, and also into their psyche. I turned to the next page.
“I did the right thing, right?”
“Nobody blamed me. Nobody said any word about it. Their eyes showed nothing, as if this was nothing unusual. They told me I could rest now.”
“But if it was the right thing to do, then why do I feel this way?”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. Every time I close my eyes, I see it: its face, its gaze, its voice, they play on repeat in my mind. I see it reach its hand out to me, not to attack, but to seek help. But I didn’t save it.”
“I killed it.”
“I did the right thing… didn’t I?”
A newbie to the Foundation. A person who tried to do what’s right, wanting to believe in their ideals, only to be crushed by the very thing they believed it. A person who was searching for an exit.
I stared at the notebook, only realising now that I’d been clenching my fist. I continued reading despite the heavy feeling welling up inside me.
“I don’t want to be a part of this.”
“I thought if I could just endure, eventually I would be able to forget and move on. But that didn’t happen. I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want to look into the mirror one day and no longer recognize myself.”
“So before that happens, I’ll see myself out.”
“Because this is the only way I can find peace”
“Please don’t ever turn into another me.”
The first personnel was someone who couldn’t bear the weight of what they had seen; someone who couldn’t convince themselves that what they did was justified; someone who chose to end everything because they didn’t want to live in a world deprived of ideals. I looked at the final line. It was very short and smaller in size compared to before, as if the writer had hesitated for a long while before noting it down.
“If only I had the chance to go here once more”
Next to it was a photo with an address.
The sea is beautiful, don’t you think?
Perhaps this was where they chose to end it.
I turned to the next page.
“I tried. I really, really tried”
This time, the handwriting was no longer shaky like that of the new recruit. It was firm and neat, but this neatness weighed on me even more. As if the writer had long since accepted something. I kept reading.
“I don’t remember how long I’ve worked here anymore. Ten years? Twenty? Or even longer? It doesn’t matter.”
“The first time I saw someone new joining the Foundation, I wondered how long they’d last. Maybe some would even outlast me. Some were confident, some were afraid, some were confused, but eventually, they all got used to the job. One by one, they either left in a way remembered by no one, or stayed and became yet another cog in the machine.”
“I was the one who stayed, because I thought I was different. I believed that if I could just hold on to my reason, if I was strong enough to not be consumed, then I would be different, and I would never lose myself.”
“I couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Maybe it was the day my decision got a teammate killed. Back then, I told myself it was unavoidable. Then it happened again. Once, twice,… Until I lost count…”
“I still remember the people I used to work with. I remember the conversations about the future, the words, the presence that kept me from collapsing under my own thoughts. But then, just like that, they all vanished. One died from a minor mistake, one was taken by enemies unbeknownst to them, and others couldn’t take it anymore.”
“I have heard the words ‘we’re sorry for your loss’ from people who couldn’t even be bothered to look up at me. As if what I went through meant nothing to them. I lost everything, and the Foundation just kept operating like usual. They kept working, kept filing reports, kept walking past me every day. As for me? All I have left are these pages of paper.”
“I don’t know if anyone will be reading these pages, maybe a new recruit, or someone like me will. But I want to send them a message:”
“Think about it, when you lose all that you hold dear, what will you have left?”
I put the notebook down.
I don’t personally know this guy, but I know that such a person existed. A senior member, a person who learnt to accept everything – until there was nothing left to accept.
I glanced around the record room, where I was reading. It’s still the same, emotionless and empty, just like the Foundation, just like what was left after that person passed away.
I kept turning the pages.
“I protected the world. And in return, I lost everything.”
The handwriting was strong and sharp. There was no shakiness of a newcomer or weariness of a veteran. It was written with strong resolution, and at the same time, I could feel an eerie emptiness beneath it
“From the start, I knew this job had no way out.”
“I’ve seen people bearing great ambitions crushed by reality. But I wasn’t like them. I’d never allow myself to be swayed by my emotions. I’d never have doubts, never wave, and never hesitate."
" I did what needed to be done. I made decisions no one dared to make. I gave the orders to eliminate those in the way, to erase dangerous entities, to control unstable factors. I never hesitated, because I knew that if I did, everything would collapse."
“They called me the keeper of balance, the guardian, the final wall stopping the world from descending to chaos.”
“How laughable that was.”
“I’m no hero, never was, and never will be. I’m just a cold-blooded killer.”
“The blood of countless people stained my hands, and my world-saving decisions led to even more sacrifices. I tried to keep everything running in the palm of my hand, but each time that happened, I lost myself. I had a dream, a hope that I would one day have the courage to leave the Foundation. I lost sleep over it, so why do I feel no remorse? I should be ridden with guilt, and then came a sudden realisation: I am but an empty husk, not even deserving to be called a human”
“When was the last time I genuinely laughed? I don’t remember.”
“When was the last time I felt fear? I don’t remember.”
“When was the last time… I had something to lose?”
“I remember one time, a subordinate asked me:
What will you do if the Foundation falls one day?”
“I looked at them and couldn’t answer, because I didn’t know.
I’ve spent my whole life maintaining the system, ensuring everything runs in perfect order. But if one day I’m gone, if the Foundation vanishes… what will I have left?
Absolutely nothing.
I accepted that because I thought it was the price to pay. But for just a brief moment, I saw a different possibility. A path I’ve never once thought of. A sliver of a hope.
And the moment I had that epiphany, they took it from me.
I don’t blame them. I’ve done the same to others. I am well aware of the rules of this game. No one in my position has the right to dream and hope.
But I’m tired
I’ve fulfilled my duty. I protected the world. And in Return, I’ve lost everything that ever made me human.
So… what’s left to keep going?”
I sat still for a long time after finishing.
High-ranking personnel. A person who wielded ultimate authority. A person who couldn’t afford to make mistakes. A person who could not show any hesitation or weakness. But in the end, they were still only a human. A human who lost everything, even themselves.
I thought about the words in the notebook. I pondered everything I’d read.
Everyone before me arrived at the same ending.
Then… what about me?
I turned to the last page. There, I saw a familiar name.
My name was written on the last page.
I knew those who are reading this are curious, skeptical, or have no idea what’s going on, just like me at first. I was like that too, sitting before an old notebook, thinking it was just a harmless anomalous object amongst the thousands I’ve worked on before..
Did you know that nothing in this Foundation is harmless?.
I’ve read all the previous pages, the stories of those who once were in my position. They too held this notebook and faced the same truth I was facing. They listened, they believed, and they… could never get back up..
I could do the same thing. I could let this notebook close with one final name: mine. Part of me wanted to. When the stories kept repeating, when I realised everything we have done all falls in a cycle of despair, I also thought: ”What’s wrong with facing the same end as they did?”
But as I sit here, I want to talk to you, not about another death.
I read, I listened, I understood, but I won’t accept it.
I won’t accept that the only path to take ends here. I won’t accept that everyone before was just blurry shadows that get replaced by those after, those who might be you, reading these very words.
I don’t need this notebook to remember them. I don’t need this cycle to keep them alive. They are here in me, in every breath I take after walking through that door.
That’s why the note is gone.
While it is no longer here, its content still exists. And you, should you one day find another notebook, something that contains the despaired words of those who came before me, I want you to remember this:.
You can listen, and you can believe, but you can never let it decide for you.
Because there’s always another path.
And I will surely find it.
What about you?
Item Description: A notebook capable of recording memories and wishes of dead personnel in Site-19.
Date of discovery: 07/03/2011
Location of recovery: Site-19
Current status: Burned by Dr. Vũ.
Note: Don’t repeat past mistakes.