Don't ask questions

What the does the end of the world look like?

Destruction comes to mind -- broken windows, toppled cars, burning buildings, such and such.

That is for cities.

Disaster takes on many forms, and humans settle in all kinds of places.

Flooded villages, green skies, molten earth--

Explosion!

Destruction embodies a certain beauty.

On the other hand, the end of the world can also be pristine.

People naturally have differences in opinion, and it isn't difficult to find individuals who view humanity as a blight in nature.

These people can see the relations between natural destruction and human activity. As mentioned, people are different, so there also exist people who believe that the former are narrow-minded.

There are correct interpretations and incorrect ones.

Nevertheless, the human world can be a subject of destruction, and indeed, some people believe its destruction to be a thing of beauty as it would mean restoration for the natural world.

The human world, that is the collection of things in the natural world that is observed by humanity as a collective -- science, society, resources, humans themselves--

That, too, can be a thing of beauty.

What is beauty but another part of the human world...

Somewhere in Turtlesand--

"Look, Roan! Balloon!"

Tripp, a young child sitting on his young aunt's shoulders, directs Roan's head to the point of interest.

A human head the size of a car silently floats overhead.

Roan can only be annoyed a few more times.

Just a few days ago, going out on a walk has been a bliss.

Roan looks back to her memories as a young teenager, when she enjoyed her time being late to school because walking to school at a time no one else is gave her great satisfaction.

It was as if she owned the streets, and the world had gone silent just for her.

Roan had missed that feeling when she moved to the city, because the city never sleeps.

Roan was disgusted when the violence broke out, and she feared for herself and her family.

However, she learned something about herself when her father died.

Roan didn't think that she could be quite good at acting.

After that, she thought going outside for a stroll would be more than a fine thing to do. And she thought right.

It had become something she did for pleasure. Her friend might say it's literally better than sex, but she doesn't think that's a very high bar.

The city is beautiful, especially when there's no one else around.

The wide roads Roan used to hate have become silent and safe. Now, she can appreciate the beauty of their structure.

The exposed soil have been teeming with life. Roan didn't realize how often these places had been maintained.

Roan would want to visit the greenbelt some day, but it's a good distance away from here, and service has been down for a while.

Still, critters sometimes wander this far. They could fool someone into thinking that there's a good benefit to the pandemic.

Roan, of course, didn't need to be fooled and she already had her beliefs in mind. And it is a bit of a wonder to discover them as she explore the world.

Aside from the critters, the imaginary monsters would occasionally appear. With Tripp joining her, the encounters have become more frequent.

The floating head just now, a clicking moosehead before, and other such creatures--

Tripp is the kind of party member that needs to be dismissed as soon as possible, but Roan doesn't really have it in her to do it. Her sister-in-law will kill her, and her brother will be very upset with her.

A scream -- a familiar scream -- rings throughout the otherwise silent street.

Roan could feel the glass around her dance with a shimmer.

"Head guard!"

"Done!"

Tripp follows the simple instruction, covering his head with his hood and his arms.

The glass didn't break.

It was like a game for the the two of them. The glass never break but playing pretend makes them feel safer and more alert.

"Clear!"

"Okay!"

Tripp put his head back up. Roan continues walking and looking around.

Roan hears a faint sound of glass shattering. It could have been from where the floating head went.

"Hey Kid, we're going home"

Roan considered investigating then, but Tripp is with her. Before, she had considered giving a gun, at least a toy gun to Tripp, but her brother disagreed.

Roan thought then that it's better for Tripp to have something to defend himself with. However, she was convinced that the risks aren't worth it. Tripp would end up shooting her.

In the end, she couldn't even find a toy gun to give. Her brother didn't keep any weapon at his place.

Roan will have to fall back to the very basics of defense.

An encounter with fellow looters isn't particularly risky.

A lot of the survivors are the docile type, contradicting the typical apocalypse story. The violent ones must have killed each other already or got themselves killed in some other way.

Still, pretty much no one can tell dreams and reality apart anymore. Even if Roan meets someone like her brother, she wouldn't feel very safe.

Roan reached home. She put Tripp down because she wouldn't want to carry him up the stairs. It's six floors.

Service has been down for two months now.

She has been considering moving her base to a more convenient place, but home is home. It is not hers, but Tripp's.

"Two"

Tripp is counting the floors, or reading the numbers on the staircase.

"Three"

Tripp stops to rest.

"Okay kid, up"

Roan carries Tripp over her shoulders. Tripp is definitely light, but Roan didn't want to stress herself too much so she carried him like a proper sack.

"Four"

"Five"

Roan puts Tripp down. He should be able to make it on his own for the rest of the steps.

"Roan, the birdie is watching"

Roan looks out the narrow window. A crow has its feet glued to the grass. It seems to be looking in intelligently. It is a delusion on Roan's part, to believe that the crow might speak right then.

"Don't look at me, you fag--"

Right, that's how things are now.

"Close your ears, kid... And don't ask questions."

Tripp covers his ears, zips his mouth shut, then covers his ears again.

"Okay, let's go--"

"What?"

"Let's go home!"

Roan continues up the stairs.

"Six"

And so Roan gets to where she planned to be.

She glanced at the crowd at the end of the hallway before opening the door to her brother's place.

"We're home!"

Tripp runs into the house.

Roan goes to the washroom first to refresh herself, before getting something to drink.

"Remember to wash your hands and mouth

"Okay!"

"Also, I'll be out for thirty minutes. Go read something!"

"Okay!"

The empty halls -- are they also beautiful?

Roan admits that there is something unsettling about long hallways, how the air and sound flow through it. It disturbs her sense of beauty.

Fortunately, real ghosts don't come as grotesque as they are portrayed in films.

On the other hand, Roan feels like her neighbors might have always been quite ugly. It's not like she's too beautiful to compare. By this standard, she is also ugly.

There is simply something about seeing people nakedly, realizing that humans are animals, creatures of flesh and bodily functions, that brushes against a certain sense of beauty.

Roan knocks on flat number 602. No response.

Roan enters the somewhat familiar place.

It has become a bit of a rule in the neighborhood, at least for floors five through seven, to keep the doors open for the convenience of others.

Roan didn't agree to this arrangement but she's inclined to honor it. Don't rob the neighbors. Wait for them to die, and check on them occasionally.

Roan goes through the rooms. No dead body. It seems that the resident is out and about, somewhere.

Roan knocks on flat number 607.

"Roan? That better be you"

That's the voice of neighbor 602, Peggie.

"It's me"

"You scared me, you bitch"

The door opens. Peggie doesn't particularly look as cheery as she sounds.

"Seems like it's just the two of us now--

"Help me carry this hag. She kept the masks in the pantry, for some reason"

This is another agreement Roan is playing along with. She doesn't even know who came up with this.

It makes sense to not clear out a place while there's a rotting corpse just lying wherever they died, but it also feels gross to just touch the body and move it to a designated room where everyone goes.

Roan put on the mask, and got a blanket from the resident's room to wrap her body with.

Roan and Peggie carry the body to flat number 613, past the crowd of ghosts who gave way to the living. Both of them kept their heads down.

The two quickly lay the body on the nearest empty floor space.

This place is quite unpleasant. Whoever came up with the blanket definitely spared the two some grief.

Roan glances at a familiar blanket.

Roan and Peggie return to the old woman's place. They discuss how the loot will be distributed. They already have a system for this, so the process goes quite smoothly.

"Okay, I have to go back"

Roan carries a fraction of the loot that she's meant to keep in a bag she got somewhere.

Roan knocks on flat number 603, her brother's place. She felt silly having done it out of habit.

Roan opens the door--