The option had appeared like a mockery after the events of PRIMEVAL. The woman's fox like façade irritated him before, but now seeing her visage so calm, almost smug, was irritating. But this isn't satisfying. He looks over the options and skips it. He'd save that for the real Elisabeth Fiorelli. For now, he'd play this thing's route. Maybe it'd prepare him for a confrontation he knew he'd have one day.

❤️ I'm asking the questions here, Fiorelli.

He sighed through his nose, still feeling the irritating. As he waited for the next response to load, he walked over to his fridge to grab a glass of orange juice. The time on his microwave currently read 0035.

It's hard to gauge Fiorelli outside of face to face. Any of these questions he could've tried to assess her own behavior if it were a real interrogation.

"I guess I have to verify more but...." He hummed to himself as he scrolled thorugh the options again before finally picking one. "I'll try this for now before I just go into questioning. We can verify information later."

❤️ I can't trust anything you tell me, can I?

The self acknowledgement is strange. He wondered if the responses were created by a learning AI. One that had been fed dozens and dozens of inputs about the real Elisabeth, not to mention his own inputs and answers from other RVLs. He mulls over the options once more, then wondering if it was also accounting for long he waited to answer. Oh well.

The option mentioning annalise henderson intrigues him, and so he opts for that instead. Anna and him had spoken very little of her time in Rocket. But he knew torture. He understood it. Their times may be different but he empathized with her, and knew better than to push her to talk about it.

❤️ You act as if you'd behave any differently, if our situations were reversed. annalise henderson proves otherwise.

Paxton's jaw set in irritation. annalise henderson cooperating? Completely duress. But what if it wasn't? He turned to the notebook set to the site of his phone and made a note. This would be good to ask. Later.

He didn't quite understand the pink mist that expelled out of the woman. Tapu Fini's powers were one of the stranger contracts he sort of knew about. He worries the mist may end the route early.

❤️ You wouldn't want that fate. No torturer wants to be the subject of their own cruelty.

"How masochistic of you." he said to the screen as he scrolled down. He quickly hits the other options just to check but they all beep at him for his audacity and force him into the only one option. A free answer this time. [break][break]

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❤️ I MOST DESIRE... [CONFESS YOUR TRUTH]

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He watches the marker float up and down expectantly. He's not naïve enough to believe this is entirely a joke. RVL had provided real information before. His own past vividly described to himself once before. He had to put his trust in the game. Only then would he gain a kernel of truth on the woman. [break][break]

But he doubted it could do much with it. After all: nobody wanted paxton concordas more dead than himself. [break][break]

Ever since Meteno, and the first, true appearance of Palkia, he hadn't stopped thinking about it. It'd been a year since. Maybe more. Maybe a little less. But he still, occasionally, got the itch. He still felt like he was crawling inside his own skin. He still looked at himself in t he mirror and saw a man unmarred by immeasurable war and grief. Though he was fucking trying. The only thing still there on perfect, porcelain skin, were the dark circles that frame his eyes. [break][break]

But all the old scars? The pock marks and old, deep gashes? The dozens of stiches, and holes made by compound fractures poking through? He'd been unmade. Eviscerated doing his job. He felt that last, sweet taste of rest. He'd seen his family again. Sometimes, he tells his therapist this, sometimes he wishes he'd been a little faster. Sometimes he resents illeana reyes 's patron for bringing him back. Not fixing what it'd broke, but making a lazy copy. [break][break]

Rest had been ideal. He thinks of his colleagues. Of PENELOPE LIVY , and Gunner Graves . Of CALLISTA MOON and MATIAS SILPH. Of annalise henderson and Greyson Connors , people he couldn't abandon. Anna. He thinks of how much she'd changed, too. Not anywhere close to a real war yet. He wondered how much more change. [break][break]

Because she would change. They all would. [break][break]

The screen still blinks, waiting for input. He scoffs at it. "Fuck you." He should've died in Meteno. In Kanto. He would've gone peacefully then. Now he'd carry regrets of all the work he had yet to finish before he had any decent chance at resting. [break][break]

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❤️ I MOST DESIRE... [ to end Rocket. To end you. To end myself. In that order. ]

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Her answers are confusing. He doesn't really know what to make of them just yet. But it was something he'd mull over in the coming days. She assures him of their mutual destruction. Not just his, all of Hoenn's and her.

At this point in time, he has no idea any source of power that can combat her. A shot to the head would be ideal, but that would be a lucky shot at best. So much preparation, and intelligence needed to set up a shot like that. No, her death would have to be more direct, regrettably.

RUINATION.

He hums tiredly at the word. He imagined, much like the prophecies before it, RUINATION could be a variety of different things. Each ore devastating and life changing than the last. But in every scenario, he had to hope, someone would survive. Maybe not hi. Definitely not her. But some one.

And that'd make the deliverers of RUINATION, the losers in the end.

He snorts at the title of his end. Maybe he'd try again another time. He's still not quite finished picking RVL for clues.