Chapter Text
A corpse was, essentially, a shell. Hollow. An empty husk. Stripped of its host, its motivation to remain, a corpse could do nothing on its own. Without anything to keep it alive, it would be left to rot.
So why weren’t they rotting? These rows and rows of green and blue soldiers? Dead in their eyes and dead in their step, yet these octolings defied the cycle of death. They worked with synchronized precision. They faced weakness head on. They were perfect.
“Perfect,” said a doctor. “Readings are sound.”
The voice of the doctor startled her out of her thoughts. Mizuta wanted to open her eyes, but she’d been instructed not to. It wasn’t safe for her to face the Sanitization eyes first. Why this was so, she had no idea, but it wasn’t her place to question. The lab lights hummed above her. It bled through her eyelids into an odd, fleshy glow, sometimes obstructed by a shadow, sometimes left alone to blind her. It hurt when they stuck the iv lines into her skin, as they weren’t allowed to sedate her, but she couldn’t flinch away. They told her she had to be strapped down for the process.
That Sanitization was a painful but rewarding perfection.
Very comforting. It only heightened her anxiety when they told her.
“Hold still,” said the doctor. Mizuta’s ear twitched at their words. “It’ll only sting for a moment.”
Mizuta bit her lip as her hearts raced. Remember what this was for. She wanted to be perfected. To feel confident in her musical abilities. She was a self taught DJ, not well known and none of her tracks were really any good, but this was going to change that. She’d be able to make better music. Hopefully make money. Perhaps she’d finally be able to provide for her and her sibling without struggling for scraps. This gave her hope for something better, so she held onto that hope no matter how hard her chest tightened.
At least,, until the Sanitized ink inserted itself into her veins. The cold, dead substance slithered through her body and pumped through her three hearts. It throbbed with painful ice and forced her limbs to snap rigid. She couldn’t hold back the cry of pain; it echoed in the lab room like a dissonant note. The ink corroded her insides and consumed every bit of her. She wanted to curl into a ball but her restraints prevented her. She felt her bed shift, but when she opened her eyes the lights were blinding.
They were moving her? Now?? Mizuta couldn’t protest, couldn’t do anything except grit her teeth as her limbs slowly went numb from the Sanitization. A tingling, sharp sensation fuzzed in her head. Focus. Focus. What did she want from all this? What… oh. She wanted to be a better DJ. She wanted to make music. Right. Right…
Through doors. Through hallways. They took her to a place. Somewhere with boxes. Green boxes. Lights and lights and colors and sounds and-
They dumped her in. Startled, she gasped, but that only allowed the Sanitized ink to flood into her mouth. Choking. Coughing. Acidic ink coating her throat raw. She opened her eyes and saw only bright, clean green. The green of perfection. However, this didn’t feel like perfection. This felt like agony. Like loss. The ink ate her from the inside and left behind only pain. She writhed and struggled, unable to transform into octo form. The thick ink clung to her like heavy mud. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t reach the surface. All she saw was green, all she breathed was Sanitation. She struggled until she could no longer move.
Then slowly, mercifully, the numbness absorbed her body. Absorbed her mind. The cold changed from being sharp and unforgiving to comforting and calming. Like a cold rag set on her forehead. Her muscles relaxed automatically, almost mindlessly. Had she told them to do that? Did it matter?
How odd.. She didn’t care anymore. The ink no longer hurt and her chest felt.. calm. Very calm. Completely still. Were her hearts even beating anymore? The octoling felt her eyes close, but she didn’t mind. After all, she wasn’t allowed to have her eyes open during her Sanitation. Perhaps they should’ve told her to close her mouth instead. After being submerged she could feel that her vocal cords had been permanently damaged from the corrosive substance.
Hm… shouldn’t she be upset about this? Only a phantom sensation at the back of her head reacted to the thought. A fleeting feeling. Why should she need a voice? A memory tugged at her, but it soon dissipated into radio static. None of that mattered anymore.
The Sanitization had taken its toll on her energy. It wasn’t long before the octoling lost consciousness, with nothing left to her name except a broken song.
When the octoling was released from the Sanitation container, her old self had died. She walked out with an unnatural smoothness in her gait. Her actions were governed by the Ruling Mind. Her name no longer had meaning, her body was no longer hers.
She was Perfect.