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Content Warnings for Part 4
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For Writing
Mention of suicide
For images
Nudity, but no genitals are shown
“Dr. Ruffell’s diagnosis is…”
Pausing between dishes, Char Aznable spoke to Garma, who was facing him.
“It seems the scars on your face can be healed.”
Garma did not respond.
On the table was soft bread, a meat dish made from veal, cream sauce reduction, and rare spices, fresh oysters and shrimp seasoned with lemon juice and olives, and cold vegetables sprinkled with caviar. There were also several kinds of soups, colorful desserts, and champagne. The fish dishes consisted of light, white flounder or one of Garma’s favorites, and for the cheese, there was an aromatic red wine.
It was a far cry from the crude, dubious meals on Earth, but no amount of luxury from Char could impress or make Garma happy. Char and Garma shared a meal together almost every other day, but it was awkward for both of them, just a time to consume food for life-sustaining needs.
Regardless of whether Garma was listening or not, Char continued.
“First, they take skin from other parts of the body, have it cultured, and then they can restore the face to its original state, although the number of surgeries may increase depending on the extent of the tissue that has been destroyed.”
“What’s in it for you to restore my face back to normal?”
“There’s nothing in it for me anymore, Garma.”
Char’s blunt words made Garma uncomfortable.
“Then why did you have to bring me here?”
“Are you saying that you would rather live on Earth selling your body to men?”
He asked in return, but Garma didn’t answer. Rather, he roughly put the silverware back on the plate, grabbed the napkin in his lap, and stood up.
“Char, you don’t understand. After I cheated death, I lost the power to kill myself. Death was terrifying and sad… I couldn’t die by my own hand, so there was no other way to earn a living other than selling my body…”
So, I waited for someone to kill me. Garma’s eyes said as much, focused on Char as he told the story.
“I told you, I worship you.”
Char said in response to Garma’s deep grief.
“Don’t insult me!”
Garma unleashed his anger.
“I do not insult you.”
Char shook his head and carried on.
“In any case, there is no use for you as you are now. Your beautiful face is hampered by your scars, so there is a problem with keeping you for viewing purposes. Besides, unfortunately, I have no hobby of sleeping with men. Above all, it bothers me that your body has been entrusted to so many men.”
Char Aznable continued, observing Garma’s expression.
“Then you must be wondering, why did I find you and bring you back?”
Char tested Garma’s reaction with his pompous rhetoric.
“I was surprised to learn that you survived the explosion, but I soon realized that your survival may have been a sign of God’s support for the plan I was about to embark on.”
This man who says he doesn’t believe in God, and yet speaks of God…
“Your plan?”
A slight feeling of uneasiness weighed heavily on Garma’s mind.
“I should have introduced you.”
Char suddenly stood up from the table when he spoke, as if he had just been reminded of something he’d forgotten until now.
“Come with me. Let me introduce you to my best friend.”
With words that implied a deeper meaning, Char led Garma out of the dining room. They were quickly followed by the butler, Machiavelli.
Eventually, Garma was led to a securely locked laboratory on the north side of the mansion. The inside of the cool, air-conditioned laboratory was dimly lit. Garma’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness as he moved deeper into the room, allowing him to see the capsule in the center.
“This is…”
Garma stood speechless when he saw the figure of a person submerged in the culture solution that filled the capsule.
Floating in the culture fluid as if sleeping was Garma Zabi.
“Aren’t you surprised?”
Facing Garma, who was at a loss for words, Char continued in amusement.
“Perfectly, the old you, right?”
Char Aznable put extra emphasis on ‘the old you’.
“In time he will mature and awaken. As my perfect Garma Zabi…”
He continued in a somewhat childish tone, as if he wanted to show off his skillfully constructed model.
“He is my trump card for when I eventually take back Zeon. Someone who can convince anyone to follow him. He will be born as my puppet, someone who exists for me.”
Char’s ambitions continued to expand without end.
“Are you even willing to use those you deceived and killed for your ambitions…? But even if you can fool the people with my replica, you will not be able to perfectly fool Prime Minister Darcia, who was close to the Zabi family, and other high-ranking government officials…”
Garma was overwhelmed with anger and shock, but coldly cut into Char’s ambitions.
“It’s as you say. That’s why I asked you to come, Garma.”
Therefore, Char Aznable believed that Garma’s survival was a blessing from God to himself.
“Do you understand, Garma? The strength of knowing that the real you is also in my hands is what makes my plan so perfect.”
Char said this and lovingly stroked the culture capsule.
“After he awakens, I want you to teach him your former habits as Garma Zabi. All you have to do is live a normal life. He, no, RJ7, since I think it’s rude to call him Garma in front of you, I’ll call him Replicant Junior 7 Type. RJ7 will learn from you on his own.”
Char Aznable chuckled at the speechless Garma.
“Though I will need to experiment a bit to see how you react to particular situations. I also need to know your latent abilities, so I may have you go along with it.”
“…you madman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment of sorts.”
Char brushed off Garma’s words of resentment, then turned his attention once again to the pale body floating in the capsule.
“Look upon this splendor of the creation of a human life. Immaculate maturity will soon be completed. It’s all for me…I think I’m going to fall in love with RJ7 like a teenage kid.”
Garma’s feelings of disgust and hatred towards Char continued to grow.
“Sir…”
Behind Garma, the butler Machiavelli called out to Char.
Startled, Garma turned around. He had difficulty detecting any sign of approach from that side ever since he suffered the wound on the right half of his face.
“Is it ready?”
Char asked as he turned to Machiavelli, followed by an eye signal to the men who were waiting near the door. Garma, who had been distracted by the capsule, looked at the men in black, bewildered and wary of the impending danger. However, there was no way to escape, and the men who approached him pinned him down on both sides by his shoulders and elbows.
“Char…”
Standing in front of the frightened Garma, Char scooped up the purple hair that had grown long to hide the scar covering the right side of his face, as if caressing it with both hands.
“Great hair. It’s a pity to cut it off, but I’d like RJ7 to have a little bit of it.”
Char turned his gaze to Garma (RJ7) sleeping inside the capsule and continued.
“I had no choice but to use artificial hair for RJ7 because I didn’t think you were still alive. I searched all over Zeon for purple hair like yours, but nothing could match it. … the situation was dire. Everyone remembers your purple hair. And you were loved by all. With synthetic hair, who knows when the secret would come out…”
By the time Char had finished speaking, Garma again felt a slight pain in his neck and collapsed into the arms of the men who supported him.
Garma awoke in a daze and found himself lying on a bed brought into the laboratory, and at the same time saw before him the capsule with Garma (RJ7) floating in it. Perhaps because of the drug injected into his neck, he was again unable to move his body and could not get up, but he could still see clearly with his eyes.
In the light amber tint of the culture fluid, the naked body floated like a legendary mermaid.
I, only to be used, created and born…
Garma took pity on the pale body floating in the capsule.
It was a feeling that the proud Garma, betrayed by his best friend, cheated death, and who sold his mortal body to men, had kept locked away inside his heart, refusing to ever feel sorry for himself.
Poor Garma Zabi.
At that moment, RJ7 drifting in the capsule opened its eyes toward Garma, letting its body be carried by the flow of the culture fluid.
“Ah…aah…!”
Garma let out a startled, almost pained cry and looked at the emeralds in the deep sea that were gazing at him. Two jewels stared at him in a cold, silent space.
The eyes, still vacant and reflecting no light or emotion, again silently and slowly closed as if nothing had happened, becoming one with deep purple, hidden among the dark purple algae-like hair that eerily swayed at the hairline.
Though still crippled by the drug, Garma moved his hand to check his own hair, but his fingertips first touched the gauze pad on his right cheek.
He screamed.
Multiple footsteps could be heard running towards him, but Garma could no longer hear them, the screams he had emitted, nor the voices of the men rushing in.
Though it should not have been possible, what Garma heard instead was the breathing of RJ7, as it was once again staring intently at him from inside the capsule.
“N…no…”
Garma pulled at his purple hair that had been trimmed above his shoulders, as his consciousness became cloudy…
When he came to his senses again, Garma was confronted with a stark reminder of the reality he now faced. He was afraid of the artificial human culture capsule that reminded him of an aquarium –
Then the mermaid was granted legs, and emerged onto land.
Once more, Garma looked into the dark green eyes that peered into his own.
A beautiful young man who was accustomed to being praised for his appearance, with glossy purple hair and skin that resembles the whiteness of alabaster. Garma Zabi, once promised a bright future, fearless and arrogant, now looked down at himself lying on the bed.
To his horror, just like back then, his good friend, the friend he trusted and loved more than anyone else, Char Aznable, was standing by his side.
Garma had to accept the fact that another self had been born into this world.
In addition to possessing all of Garma’s physical characteristics, the RJ7 also had the potential to possess Garma Zabi’s past. What that RJ7 was about to learn was the mental side of the human Garma Zabi.
Garma’s joy, anger, sorrow, pain, excitement…
These were recorded in RJ7 by numerically measuring the internal changes in the body when various emotions were manifested. All that remained was to learn Garma’s habits, the fixed forms of behavior that had been ingrained in him through time. For example, from trivial matters such as how he reacts to unpalatable foods at mealtimes, to his hair combing habits, his first gesture when he sits down, his demeanor…
Under the direction of Dr. Ruffell, Char adopted a method of letting RJ7 learn by having the two of them live together in the same room. For this reason, Garma’s room was set up with glass walls, even the bathroom, exposing his privacy and allowing him to be monitored. From RJ7’s side of the room, which was partitioned by strong special glass and furnished with the same construction and furniture, it was possible to hear Garma’s every sound, and even his faint breathing while sleeping.
Garma himself felt mental pain, sometimes accompanied by physical pain, and he grew weaker. The cold emerald eyes remembered everything, even the fragility, weakness, and trembling heart and soul of the natural human body. Once RJ7 saw something, it did not forget it.
Soon RJ7 was able to choose the truest Garma Zabi likeness, even if Garma sometimes performed the same action differently. With that, he transformed into Garma Zabi with a fearsome speed.
Some of RJ7’s emotional development was also remarkable. However, the only thing RJ7 could not sense from Garma was his hatred for Char Aznable. Of course, that feeling was not meant to be cultivated. He was programmed from the beginning to not react to that aspect. Rather, RJ7 trusted and respected Char Aznable, much like Garma before him, and had feelings for him as more than just a friend.
Garma could sense this when, for example, on Char’s orders, the three of them had dinner together. Every time Garma heard the voice of RJ7, who casually spoke with Char and smiled at him, he was reminded of the past, and could not help but curse himself for failing to die that day.
On the day RJ7 woke up, a portion of the skin and cells from Garma’s right cheek were harvested and cultured until they could be transplanted, and plastic surgery was performed. The surgery was not completed at once, but was performed in several parts. Garma’s hair, which had previously covered the wound, was cut short, exposing the ugly scar to all whenever the treatment pads were removed.
A scar left by Char’s betrayal.
More than the sadness of having his once beautiful face so cruelly ruined, for as long as he could, Garma would never forget that day, that moment, or his current unsightly profile. Therefore, he wanted to keep cursing him so he wouldn’t forget either. However, as long as he was a helpless captive, he had to be prepared for the fact that the scars on his face would be wiped away without a trace when the time was right.
After all, Garma had no idea what Char Aznable’s true intentions were.
Why are you trying to erase my wounds… He wondered.
Is it because he was to be used as a trump card in case something goes wrong with RJ7? Or was it to prevent him from escaping by restoring his former appearance as Garma Zabi…?
Or maybe it was Char’s own atonement –
As he thought this, Garma denied it in his heart.
At any rate, it was certain that Char Aznable was trying to heal Garma’s wounds for some scheme.
For him, Garma was just a person to be used…
Both now and in the past.
“You are…ugly.”
RJ7, the other self, called out to Garma as he entered the room.
The same voice as his own.
RJ7 showered Garma with the same words that overcame him every time he looked in the mirror, but never uttered. It was like falling into the illusion of a soliloquy that had leaked out unconsciously. Garma feared that he had once said such hurtful words to others, even more than being told that he was ugly because of a flaw on his face.
“You are hideously ugly.”
But I am beautiful, you see. Implying such, RJ7 turned its emerald eyes towards Garma, as if looking down on him.
“I know everything about you. How you survived on Earth. Char told me about it. I think it was a shameful way of life for Garma Zabi… But don’t worry. You will soon cease to be Garma Zabi. Because I am Garma. I am not defiled. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am perfect and omnipotent. I will be the perfect you.”
RJ7’s loud laugh seemed to reverberate around Garma even after he left.
This may be for the best, Garma thought.
Even if this Garma Zabi, the former prince that the people of the Republic of Zeon are about to receive, is in fact a duplicate, it is a better option than for Lady, who survived in an unsightly manner on Earth, was scarred, and bought by men for money, to continue being Garma Zabi.
I am Lady.
Garma looked at the scar on the side of his face in the mirror. Even if his wounds were erased, the memories would remain as bruises in his heart.
And he will never escape the curse of that day.
…so Garma said to himself.
End of Part 4