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The Price of Truth

This article is over 17 years old and may contain outdated information

What is the price one pays for truth? For the past few months I’ve asked myself this, over and over, until the question and bother of it all just fades to nothing; an unintelligible string of words set to the pace of the voice in my head. I have a job to do now, anyways, and I can’t stop until it was done. No, perhaps that’s not the correct attitude. Perhaps I have to look at the reason behind the job. I have to look at what it is that makes me work so hard towards my goal. I need to look at the truth.

Geminis sat, low in the pale moonlight, near an outlet gutter in a long row of sewage canals near what is known as Crey’s Folly. It had been almost three months since Geminis found the wrecked body in this dank line of sewage on a nightly response to a very bad feeling; three months since he first learned the truth. On that night his life changed forever and he could recall it very well. As the moon began to rise in the backdrop of the derelict city district, Geminis leaned his head back and revisited that night. The night he learned of Crey’s true folly.

Dusk was just beginning to introduce itself to the day as a man emerged from the public transit railway, his blue hair hang nonchalantly and unkempt over similar shaded eyes. The night before was ridden with an eerie attraction to this place, a gut feeling that the individual knew would lead him to something. His name was Paul Castor, a young man living on his own in a small loft in King’s Row. He had no story to tell; his life was pretty average up until then, at least when compared to some of the other greats in Paragon City. Paul shook off a chilly feeling as he approached the city limits; a barb-wire fence bearing a warning sign greeted him as he tried to make his way past and into the dark canals beyond. It was something about the stars that night that made him come out this way; they always seemed to call to him when something needed to be done. Crouching low now, as not to be seen, Paul crept along the slick path between the sewage lines and finally made it to a small concrete clearing in the middle of many of then. Sighing to himself and questioning his mental health, Paul gazed around the uninviting environment and scanned for something. Anything, really, that would give him an answer to all of this calling. A few moments later, his answer came calling back to him.

A few yards off a low, scratchy alarm seemed to be keening, repeatedly and in different tones much like that of a car or burglary alarm. Paul held his breath in anxiety as he crept over to the cause of the distress signal. Pushing some brush aside, Paul squinted at what appeared to be a dim red light floating in the middle of the sewage pool; a dense evening fog masking whatever the source may be. As he climbed down to the water’s edge, the light drifted closer to Paul and a figure appeared, clutched to a drift log. As the mass touched land, Paul waved to hail the mysterious stranger. Answered only by the distress signal giving out to a dull fizzle, Paul gathered himself and approached even closer now. Upon closer investigation, the figure was a robotic suit in appearance with many wide scratches on the chassis and framework. The helmet took the worst damage, many sections were missing, charred and broken off into pieces surrounding the floating vessel. Paul dragged the injured robot on to the dry concrete and turned it around to face upwards towards to the sky. Paul’s eyes widened and he swore aloud as he observed the front of the suit; missing plates of the armor in the calf area gave way to a painful sight of blood and sinew where severe burning must have taken place. Geminis moved up the body and froze when he reached the face; it was a familiar sight indeed.

Footsteps alerted Geminis to someone’s approach as he lurched out of dream-mode. A small wave of static was followed by a voice spoke in monotone, “Geminis, are you there? I have located our target. They have what we want, let’s get into position.” It was Zecroda or, as Paul knew him from another life and time, Tervious Domme. The robot armor-clad man stood, ten feet off with his red visor gleaning in the dark of the night. It was he that Paul found that night three months ago, his friend since youth that left college to pursue a career with Crey; then left for dead in a drainage channel amongst filth and sewage, betrayed by his own company. It was this man that told Paul of everything that Crey did during the Rikti Invasion to win their precious battles, and the suffering that innocents were subjected to all in the name of science and industry. The days following that incident lead to the death of Paul Castor, and the birth of Geminis and the company of Ecodigm. Those seeking the truth now had a rebellion to join; a fight for the cause. They would do whatever it took to expose Crey and raids on the industry’s shipments like this only helped their cause. But they couldn’t be too hasty; they had to wait for the right place and time before they could let the world know of the evils of Crey. They had to collect their forces and find others like Zecroda that were betrayed and abused by Crey, and they were out there to be found. The days to come weren’t going to be easy, but Geminis knew that they would be worth it. They were worth the price one pays for Truth.

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