On the
other side of the continent, somewhere along the border between the
Human and Troll Kingdoms, Dave and Jade navigate a densely jungled
region. Though they’re high-ranking members of the resistance, they
aren’t decked out in the full military regalia associated with
their positions. They’re in camo fatigues, Dave sporting a
patchwork of bright and dark reds, Jade in black and grays. This is
the designated attire for those on scouting and reconnaissance
missions, which is the nature of their current expedition.
The orders came from Commander Vantas himself. This
underdeveloped part of the border, mostly uninhabited for many
miles, was unspeakably critical to the rebellion, according to the
commander. When pressed on it, he’d claim the reasons needed to
remain classified for now. Dave and Jade suspect the real reason is
that Karkat can’t bear to put them in harm’s way, risking their
Heroic deaths. But they’ve decided to do him the professional
courtesy of believing his story. The way they see it, he’s finally
earned a little respect by now. Besides, there’s some fun to be had
out here, away from the fog of war. Just like the good old days,
during their archaeological expeditions in search of Shitty
Liberties.
They fly side by side just above the thick jungle canopy,
sweeping the horizon with sharp eyes.
JADE: i think i see another one!
DAVE: oh snap
Dave squints. Sure enough, there does appear
to be a large, rusted arm holding a torch, blurred by JPEG
artifacts and covered in vines, poking out just above the canopy.
It’s two or three miles off to the west.
DAVE: youre right
DAVE: another shitty liberty
DAVE: good eye jade
Dave takes a picture with his phone, then
updates his report containing a comprehensive accounting of the
locations of every ancient Statue of Liberty his alternate-timeline
adult self once distributed all over this world as some sort of
ironic, avant-garde goof. He’s spent a lot of time on Earth C
wondering when adult-Dave got around to doing which specific
legendary exploits in the pre-flood period of this planet when it
was in the old solar system. So much time, in fact, that he turned
into an adult-Dave himself. Was he the age he is now when he
scattered these Liberties in one of the boldest postmodernist
endeavors in human history? The thought is sobering. He can’t help
but feel how appropriate it is that about five thousand years
later, his work is being curated and appreciated by yet another
adult-Dave. Who better for the task?
Jade readies another tactical bundle to be deployed inside the
distant Liberty. It includes an efficient pack of captchalogue
cards containing tracking technology, military equipment, and
powerful explosives. In the event this region becomes another front
of the war, the commander wants as many Shitty Liberties as
possible seeded with provisions useful to the rebellion, including
the ability to detonate them at any time, so that they may serve as
traps. Dave wonders if his other self ever imagined they’d be used
this way. He’s sure adult-Dave would have approved, being a fellow
freedom fighter himself. It’s too perfect, actually. Deploying a
bunch of Shitty Liberties as bombs in the service of a kind of
liberty that is entirely un-shitty. It makes him wonder if his
other self on some level knew they would be used for this purpose
one day. The thought of his double’s selfless sacrifices against
clown tyranny makes him feel so proud, he wipes away a small tear
forming at the edge of his eye.
Old age has made him emotional. It didn’t used to be like this.
Gotta keep it together, he thinks. Focus on the mission.
Then, he notices something. Just below him, to the east a bit. A
lumpy part of the jungle where the canopy bulges upward slightly in
an uneven, somewhat angular way. It suggests a rigid structure
beneath the overgrowth. Something man-made. Another Liberty,
perhaps? No, this structure is different, more compact. More likely
a ruined building from an ancient Earth city. It seems to call to
him.
DAVE: yo jade
DAVE: why dont you go ahead and rig that liberty
ill be right there
DAVE: i wanna check something out down here
first
JADE: what is it?
DAVE: idk probably nothing
DAVE: some ancient bullshit tucked away in the
fucking jungle
DAVE: doesnt hurt to be thorough
JADE: ok dave
JADE: be careful!
DAVE: yeah
JADE: i love you
DAVE: i love you too
Jade swoops closer, gives him a kiss, then
spins around and flies off to the distant Shitty Liberty. Dave
watches his wife go, her tail protruding through the rear of her
camo pants, swishing back and forth with a sense of unrestrained
affection for her husband. He’s a lucky man, he tells himself. He
knows he is. Before any decades-old doubts can resurface to haunt
him, he dives through the canopy in search of the ruins. Those
reservations, the tense feelings in his chest, that’s all in the
past for him. He loves his beautiful, doggy wife more than anything
in the world, and that’s all there is to say on the matter.
The ruins are so overgrown with vines and the thick trunks of
creeping trees, he can’t make out the shape of the building. He can
barely see an inch of exposed surface, but something is clearly
there. He flies around the perimeter, pushing leaves and branches
out of his way. Here’s something. An old window, grand in design,
but broken, busted in by a huge branch that extends deep inside
from years of growth.
It’s dark inside, hot and musty. He activates a small,
military-issue flashlight. Bugs scatter and fly about. He scans the
boundaries of the room, shining the light around. There are
unrecognizably ancient, moldy paintings in frames hanging on the
wall. And yet the wall seems to have no corners. He knows what this
room is. He’s seen it before in films, under much better repair
than this.
He’s standing in the Oval Office of the White House. Plant life
is covering everything, but all the fixtures are there. Moss is
consuming the big desk. That flowering mass of thorny vines is
where the couches would be. And over there... is something he
doesn’t quite recognize. It doesn’t seem to fit in. He steps closer
to investigate, wiping away at the layers of moss and dirt to
reveal a surface he most certainly does recognize. It’s a
transportalizer.
Dave doesn’t waste any time. You don’t find something like this
in the Oval Office and start agonizing over whether or not to use
it. He steps on the platform, and in a blink his surroundings are
completely different. The centuries of overgrowth are gone, and he
appears to be in some sort of crypt, boxed in by walls of smooth,
golden stone. At the far side of the room, something is hanging on
the wall, encased in a sort of display. It’s a mounted god tier
costume, about the size an adult male would wear. He recognizes the
symbol. It’s the same one Jake used to wear when they were teens.
It is the symbol for Hope.
He steps toward the costume, hears a “click” under his shoes. He
looks down and discovers he’s standing on a large button, which has
just become illuminated under the pressure of his feet. The button
bears a strange, angular symbol he doesn’t recognize, but before he
can study it, something directly in front of him draws his
attention. Thousands of bright particles swarm from an unseen
origin and coalesce into a solid, luminous figure in the shape of a
tall man. The radiance of the holographic image diminishes to
reveal a man in a suit, with a strikingly recognizable face. Dave
draws in a sharp breath and clutches at his chest.
OBAMA: Hello, Mr. Strider.
OBAMA: I’ve been waiting a long time for you to
show up.
Dave’s jaw hangs open. The legends have been
confirmed. As well as several key headcanons of his. Without
thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head.
DAVE: m... mr president
DAVE: its an honor sir
President Obama laughs amiably and gestures
with one hand for Dave to rise.
OBAMA: Come on now, Dave. We can’t be having
that.
OBAMA: I’m nobody’s king. I’m a democratically
elected representative who took an oath to serve his country and
his people. People like you, Dave.
OBAMA: If anything, I should be the one
bowing.
Dave says nothing, at a loss for how to
respond to such soft-spoken words of wisdom and humility. He idles
for a moment, seemingly waiting for Obama to follow through with
his promised act of deference.
OBAMA: Hahaha, I’m not gonna bow, man. I was just
pulling your leg.
DAVE: oh ok
OBAMA: I just want to talk to you for a little
while. Is that alright, or do you have somewhere you need to
be?
DAVE: oh
DAVE: i...
DAVE: no
DAVE: no sir i dont have anywhere to
DAVE: i mean
DAVE: yes sir
DAVE: its MORE than alright its such an honor
to...
DAVE: what i mean is
DAVE: (fuck)
DAVE: mr president what i mean is im a huge fan of
yours and i hope this doesnt sound fucked up but on some level i
feel like ive been waiting my whole life for this moment??
OBAMA: I know, Dave.
Obama offers a warm smile. He looks down,
adjusting the cuffs of his holographic suit with the casual manner
of a skilled statesman. It’s the body language of a man getting
down to business.
OBAMA: Now, you probably weren’t aware of this.
But I’m familiar with the work you’ve done for your country in the
past. For the whole planet, actually.
OBAMA: Before you moved it, that is.
DAVE: you...
DAVE: you knew about him?
DAVE: or i mean
DAVE: me
OBAMA: Oh, yes.
OBAMA: Most people thought I was gone. But I was
keeping an eye on events.
OBAMA: Wouldn’t miss it for anything.
DAVE: where did you go
OBAMA: I was doing what you did back then, when
the world needed you.
OBAMA: I was doing what you’re doing now, under
the same circumstances.
OBAMA: I was answering the call.
OBAMA: I went about it in a way no one at the time
could understand.
OBAMA: You see, Dave. No one can really see the
big picture.
OBAMA: That’s what real leadership is all about.
Looking at the big picture, seeing the long road ahead, making the
hard choices for the greatest good.
OBAMA: Not just decisions that lead to a better
tomorrow, or to make sure the next year is better than the last. Or
even the next decade.
OBAMA: You have to think about the next century,
the next millennium.
OBAMA: Sometimes, you may even have to leave
people wondering if you’ve forsaken them entirely, because your
real duty is to concern yourself with the final destination of the
planet. To make sure it stays safe along the hard journey and ends
up being the best home it can be for both the human race and the
many newcomers to our world.
OBAMA: Doing the right thing often means walking a
long and lonely road, Dave.
OBAMA: But I’m guessing you’ve already figured
this out.
DAVE: i guess so
Dave pauses, pensively fiddling with the
pockets of his camo pants. He has so many questions for the
ex-president. He braces himself, and presses ahead.
DAVE: if you dont mind my asking sir
DAVE: i thought you died?
DAVE: well i mean i KNOW you did where im from with
the meteors and all
DAVE: but from what i know about the history of the
flooded earth timeline
DAVE: you served your two terms then just
DAVE: a little after that they say you
disappeared
DAVE: so... you didnt die?
OBAMA: Oh, I certainly died, Dave.
OBAMA: Just not when they say I did.
OBAMA: Like I said, I was just answering the
call.
OBAMA: Other brave heroes like you stepped in to
fill the void I left behind. As I knew you all would.
OBAMA: And some say the death of those heroes was
in vain, or a waste, since the human race was wiped out anyway.
Just like they say my supposed death was a waste, a loss that
humanity couldn’t endure.
OBAMA: But they were wrong.
OBAMA: Those heroes were fighting for something.
Even if all you manage to accomplish is leaving behind a legacy to
inspire others in the future who need that Hope to go on. Even if
one of those in the future you end up inspiring is an alternate
history version of yourself, Dave.
OBAMA: Haven’t you been improved by the knowledge
of what you grew up to be in my time? Can you really say you’d be
what you are today without the memory of him?
OBAMA: Or the memory of me, for that matter?
Dave considers the question seriously. He’s
transfixed by Obama’s kind gaze and can’t seem to look away. There
are times when he feels relieved by the lifestyle decision he made
as a kid to wear a pair of aviator sunglasses at all times, no
matter what.
DAVE: no
DAVE: but like
DAVE: thats all good and totally inspiring and all
but
DAVE: sorry if this is nosy but if you didnt die
when you disappeared then how did you die
OBAMA: Most of that is classified, Dave.
OBAMA: Rest assured, it was a Heroic death that
took place many years after my disappearance, upon which rested the
fate of Paradox Space itself.
OBAMA: There were loose ends to tie up. Baggage
from my distant past. You know how it is. Troubles from your
childhood tend to follow you. Even after you move into the White
House. Believe me.
DAVE: heh yeah i guess so
DAVE: what happened to you as a kid
DAVE: or is that classified too
OBAMA: No, it’s not classified. Because I never
even told the government about it.
OBAMA: Can’t classify what you don’t know.
DAVE: damn
OBAMA: When I was a boy living in Hawaii, on my
thirteenth birthday I was visited by a mysterious stranger.
OBAMA: He was an older man with a mustache. Kind
of a corny, old-fashioned, adventuring type. He tried to convince
me we were related. Of course, I thought he was full of shit.
OBAMA: To this day, I’m not sure about that. Maybe
he was. I didn’t think much of his tall tale at the time, but what
did pique my interest was his story.
OBAMA: He was voyaging all over the Pacific
looking for a mysterious island, which supposedly had all the
answers he’d spent his whole life searching for.
OBAMA: During his travels, he set up outposts all
over the ocean to help with his search. Such as one near where I
lived as a boy. The outpost had a laboratory, an archeological dig
site, a network of underground tunnels, the works.
OBAMA: One time, I snuck in there and did some
exploration of my own. Somewhere in the maze of underground ruins,
I found a transporter pad, just like the one that brought you
here.
OBAMA: It sent me to a new realm. A place they
called the Medium.
Dave does his best not to show it, but his
heart is racing faster with every word Obama says. His mind races
too, with more thoughts than he can keep track of. Thoughts of
affirmation, exhilaration. i knew it... i knew it! his brain
repeats to itself. The sense of vindication is indescribable.
OBAMA: Others were there. Kids my age. I made
friends that lasted a lifetime.
OBAMA: Over the years, I would return there now
and then, when I felt I was needed.
OBAMA: I made one final trip there after serving
my terms in office. As I said, I kept an eye on Earth events. But I
knew I could never return. Not with the work that still needed to
be done.
OBAMA: But before my Heroic death, I made sure to
have my affairs in order, to fulfill certain cosmic necessities of
the future. Such as our meeting here today, Dave.
DAVE: holy shit
OBAMA: I captchalogued a ghost imprint of my
brain. You remember how to do that, don’t you?
OBAMA: I stored the imprint in this holographic
projection device.
OBAMA: You see, Dave, it was critical that I had a
chance to speak with you. But only when the time was right. Only
once you had made it all this way, standing ready to defend the
future of Earth C.
Tears are welling up in the corners of Dave’s
eyes. There go the fucking waterworks again. He says another quiet
prayer of gratitude for the shades John gave him. He’s got to keep
it together. He tells himself there’s nothing wrong with crying. Of
course there isn’t. Just... not in front of Obama. He’s GOT to keep
it together. He sniffs in deeply, with a theatrical stoicism, and
crosses his arms. But on his exhale, a small, choked sob escapes.
He seals his lips tight, but his mouth quivers and puckers under
the impossible pressures of restraint.
OBAMA: I know what you’re going through. There’s a
lot to be emotional about in these trying times.
OBAMA: Hey, why don’t we take a walk. You’ll have
a chance to collect yourself. And there’s something I’d like you to
see.
Obama waves his hand toward a wall, and a
secret compartment opens up with the traditional stone-grinding
noises to be heard in any crypt worth exploring. He leads the way
into a dark corridor. They walk for some time, only one pair of
solid feet making audible footsteps that echo far ahead into the
darkness. The light from Obama himself serves as Dave’s torch.
Soon, he feels calm enough to continue the conversation.
DAVE: mr president
DAVE: you said...
DAVE: i reminded you of the adult dave from your
timeline
OBAMA: That’s right.
DAVE: so wait
DAVE: how did you know adult dave if you were from
the original timeline
OBAMA: Dave, come on now.
OBAMA: Surely you must know I’m no stranger to
timeline shenanigans myself.
DAVE: oh yeah
DAVE: of course what was i thinking
DAVE: anyway no offense but
DAVE: are you really sure i remind you of him
DAVE: there are a lot of times where i dont feel
like im at all living up to that guys example
DAVE: a lot of times i feel like im just going
along with shit
DAVE: like my buddy organizes a badass rebellion
and im just like duh yeah alright
DAVE: sounds cool guess ill scout around the jungle
and rig a bunch of shitty statues of liberty to explode if those
are the orders
OBAMA: Rig the what to do what now?
DAVE: oh uh
DAVE: yeah maybe never mind that
DAVE: its just a stupid mission im on and tbh
karkat probably just sent us on it so we dont get ourselves killed
stupidly
Obama nods solemnly at this clarification. His
expression makes it clear that this is the type of executive
decision he understands all too well.
DAVE: but compared to that guy i apparently turned
out to be
DAVE: i dunno
DAVE: i feel like
DAVE: a lesser version of myself somehow
DAVE: not lesser maybe just like
DAVE: i somehow ended up as the version of me who
didnt stay as true myself as i could have
DAVE: like
DAVE: i entered this world already considered a
god
DAVE: already famous
DAVE: already celebrated as a genius
DAVE: what was there left to achieve
DAVE: i still did a lot of incredible and stupid
shit that i guess im pretty proud of
DAVE: idk
DAVE: something feels hollow about a lot of what
ive done the last bunch of years
DAVE: or i guess about a lot of stuff in
general
DAVE: its not just accomplishments or stuff like
that it goes deeper i think
DAVE: like karkat managed to rise to the occasion
and defend his people but i hardly had anything to do with that
DAVE: it was mostly him
DAVE: hes turned into someone pretty incredible
really
OBAMA: You still care a lot about Karkat, don’t
you?
DAVE: uh well
DAVE: yeah?
DAVE: of course i do hes my friend
OBAMA: Are you sure that’s all he is, Dave?
DAVE: i...
DAVE: i love my wife
DAVE: jade has been the best thing that ever
happened to me
DAVE: the day i decided to marry her and like
DAVE: get off the fence
DAVE: stop insulting her by acting so casual about
it like our thing was no big deal
DAVE: she deserved me being all the way into it
DAVE: she deserves everything
DAVE: and
DAVE: i KNOW this is all true
OBAMA: But?
Here come the tears again. More than a drop or
two at the corners of his eyes. He blinks, and they run down his
face, racing beneath the lower rims of his shades faster than he
can turn away. He’s losing control now. His cool is a distant
memory, like a dream he’s struggling to remember. Obama puts a
flickering hand on his shoulder. Dave feels the dense light of the
hologram buzzing through the fabric of his clothes, grazing his
skin. It tingles, like mild static electricity.
DAVE: my bro died a long time ago
DAVE: fuckin hung himself for some damn reason
DAVE: for a little while i had a bro
DAVE: i could talk to him about stuff
DAVE: i did a little bit
DAVE: but i dunno if we got THAT deep into...
DAVE: whatever
OBAMA: You can always talk to me about anything,
Dave.
DAVE: yeah
DAVE: thanks man
DAVE: i guess what im trying to say is
DAVE: i miss him
DAVE: a lot
OBAMA: I think Dirk would be proud if he could see
how you turned out.
OBAMA: In fact, I know it.
DAVE: no
DAVE: i mean yeah i do kinda miss him too
DAVE: i try not to think about him much because
DAVE: well thats a whole thing
DAVE: what i meant was
DAVE: i miss karkat
Dave falls to his knees. He slides his open
palms up beneath his shades and covers his face. He weeps quietly
as Obama looks down on him, smiling patiently, understandingly.
DAVE: i think i messed up
DAVE: i didnt do the right thing a long time ago
and now
DAVE: even though i love jade
DAVE: i feel like im living a lie
DAVE: i try not to even think any of this stuff but
now that im letting myself not only think it but say it i feel like
im panicking
DAVE: i dont know what to do
DAVE: i dont...
He’s hyperventilating now but catches himself.
He has to calm down. This is no way to behave in front of a
president. He collects himself, starts breathing steadily, and
looks up.
DAVE: mr president
DAVE: can you keep a secret
OBAMA: Yes I can, Dave.
OBAMA: These days, keeping secrets is practically
all I ever do down here.
DAVE: i think
He runs a hand through his hair, and looks
back down.
Obama purses his lips in that trademark way of
his—thoughtful, serious, contemplative. He nods slowly, letting the
silence grow, as if considering precisely how to deliver the most
perfect arrangement of words any man has uttered in human
history.
OBAMA: Over the course of our lives, we all tend
to believe we’re a lot of different things.
OBAMA: One year, you’re this. Another, you’re
that. Later in life, you start pushing forty, and start worrying
you’ve been believing the wrong thing about yourself the whole
time.
OBAMA: I’ve had my share of doubts about all that,
just like any other man.
OBAMA: And I’ve had plenty of the same kind of
struggles as you, Dave.
DAVE: wait
DAVE: you...
Obama nods, smiles wistfully. Dave arches his
eyebrows high above his shades. They stare at each other, and in
the look they exchange, they seem to say all that needs to be said
between two grown men on the matter.
OBAMA: Identity, sexuality, gender, all that stuff
is about as illusory as I am, standing before you here.
OBAMA: Is this the real me? Who can really
say.
OBAMA: Depends on what real means, or what I even
mean when I say “me.”
OBAMA: For that matter, are you even the real
you?
OBAMA: Haven’t you been asking yourself that
question one way or another all your life?
DAVE: yeah
OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the
truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they
represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals.
OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope,
that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or
uncertain with a sense of reality.
OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the
mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what
could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that
which is.
OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we
call truth.
Dave is still crying, but he doesn’t care
anymore. The tears are flowing down his face, but he won’t look
away. He’s perfectly unashamed of his vulnerability at this moment.
The only thing he knows is he needs to listen carefully to every
precious syllable. To listen with his ears, his heart, his entire
being.
OBAMA: The truth of oneself can be very specific,
if one wills it to be.
OBAMA: Statements such as, I am gay, I am
straight, I am a man, I am a woman, these are statements about an
individual that gain strength through the power of belief we invest
in them.
OBAMA: But there is another more generalized truth
about a person that can emerge when such conviction is absent. When
the partitions of the mind dissolve, and the boundaries between
everything you are now and everything you might have become begin
to fade away.
DAVE: oh
DAVE: youre talking about that ultimate self
stuff
OBAMA: I am indeed, Dave.
DAVE: wow
DAVE: havent heard about that in so long
DAVE: rose used to talk about it all the time
DAVE: dirk would rant about it a lot too
OBAMA: He sure did.
DAVE: wait
DAVE: you mentioned dirk earlier
DAVE: did you like
DAVE: actually KNOW him??
OBAMA: Oh... we’ve met on a few occasions.
Dave blinks.
DAVE: thats
DAVE: how is that possible
DAVE: he killed himself
OBAMA: Did he, now?
DAVE: are you saying thats not what happened
OBAMA: I’m saying you know as well as I that it’s
awfully hard to pin down exactly what happened to whom, depending
on which frame of reference we might be talking about.
DAVE: wow
DAVE: so like... he...
OBAMA: I learned a lot from him.
OBAMA: Met up with him as a young man, as I was
just beginning to explore the wonders of my session.
OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat,
philosophy, life, love...
DAVE: love???
DAVE: hold on are you saying
DAVE: that...
OBAMA: Now, Dave. I can’t go around disclosing
everything under the sun. Plenty of this is still under the
umbrella of executive privilege.
OBAMA: Loose lips sink ships, as they say.
Obama winks again. Dave has actually lost
track of how many times he’s winked so far.
DAVE: right right
DAVE: so... somehow he met you and uh
DAVE: trained you and stuff
DAVE: and talked about the ultimate self
DAVE: i remember my dirk would go off the deep end
about that stuff sometimes
DAVE: and maybe it made him fucking snap because
then he just offed himself and that was that
DAVE: but rose used to talk about it too
DAVE: probably even more
DAVE: but one day she just stopped and never
mentioned it again
DAVE: do you know what like
DAVE: happened to her
OBAMA: She’s settled happily into the specific.
That’s her path now.
OBAMA: All of you have embraced that life, in this
safely sequestered version of planet Earth.
OBAMA: All of you until now, Dave.
OBAMA: This is why you’re here.
OBAMA: I believe you’re ready to wake up.
DAVE: ...
Dave realizes suddenly that they’ve stopped at
a dead end of the passage. Obama holds up his arm and points his
open palm toward the wall. The wall lifts with the comforting sound
of ancient stones grinding against each other. The sliding panel
reveals a recess, and in the recess stands a robot. It’s a
gleaming, polished silver replica of Dave, but without shades. It
stands totally still, unpowered. Dave struggles to make sense of
what he’s looking at.
OBAMA: Now, look.
OBAMA: A human body, even one that’s been elevated
to god tier status, cannot withstand the stresses put on it by the
awesome power of the Ultimate Self.
OBAMA: You’d quickly become sick and wither away.
We can’t have that.
OBAMA: So before I died, I made sure to create
this brand-new body for you.
OBAMA: I have to admit, it’s some of my finest
work. A real beauty.
OBAMA: It should serve you well in your new life.
A life where the world will need you more than ever, Dave.
OBAMA: Not only this world, but the future of
reality.
OBAMA: If this sounds confusing, don’t worry.
You’ll understand everything once I help you ascend.
OBAMA: So what do you say? At the end of the day,
this is a choice that belongs to you.
OBAMA: Are you ready to accept your destiny, Dave
Strider?
It finally catches up with him, what’s taking
place here. Dave is sobbing loudly now, beside himself with
feelings of joy, a sort of existential relief, and a true sense of
purpose. He takes only a moment to decide. Not to weigh the merits
of decision. He understands now that the decision was already made
the second he first laid eyes on the former president. He pauses
only to savor this perfect moment.
DAVE: yes
DAVE: absolutely
DAVE: i have never been more ready for anything in
my life mr president
Obama nods once, curtly, and his smile
dissolves into a serious look as he closes his eyes. He extends his
arm and slowly pushes his hand through Dave’s forehead. The energy
from the dense lightform crackles and sends waves through the air
like ripples through a pond. It happens suddenly, a shock of white
light completely enveloping his and Dave’s bodies, intense bands
and lashes of pure Hope radiating from their silhouettes.
Dave’s eyes widen, his mouth opens as if to scream, but he
doesn’t make a sound. Infinite experience flows through his
consciousness, an unimpeded torrent of raw potentiality. He sees
everything. The roads not taken, the lives not lived, the thoughts,
desires, fears all unacted upon. The Doomed Daves, the Davesprites,
the Davepetas, life with Jade, life with Karkat, life with both,
life with neither. It’s like soaring through the clouds at
supersonic speed, too quickly to make out the shape of any single
puffy nimbus, like a breakneck jaunt through Skaia. Huge clouds
rushing by, small ones, clouds with visions, empty clouds, white
clouds, then a great dark one. And then, the briefest possible
glimpses—most too fleeting to be noticed—of Dirk.
And then, nothing. It all stops abruptly, and Dave collapses to
the ground, dead.
Obama is holding his hand up, and floating just above his palm
is Dave’s ascended essence. It flickers wildly in his hand like a
little kernelsprite. Obama holds it up to his face and blows it
away like dandelion fluff. It floats lazily into the chest of the
robot, and with that, Obama disappears, leaving the corridor in
total darkness and silence.
Seconds pass. And then a minute.
And then, time seems to stop altogether. As if the aspect itself
has suspended its forward motion, bowing before the unprecedented
transformation taking place. It defers to its greatest knight,
risen anew.
With a deep, reverberating electric hum, the robot’s eyes light
up, deep red, bright enough to light up the entire passage. Its
face comes to life. Its mouth, oddly pliable for a metal surface,
begins to smile a little. And then, very broadly.
The robot steps out of its recess and points its head downward,
the searing red beams from its eyes spotlighting Dave’s crumpled
torso. The robot—Davebot—shakes his head slowly. The doubts, the
confusion, the insecurities of the man lying here all died along
with his body. Davebot smoothly reaches down, lifts the shades off
the corpse, and puts them on his face.
DAVEBOT: its about fuckin time