Flavio discovered him there positioned within his living circuit. He didn't step out from any shadow; he just existed, as though the concentrated quietness of the space merged into his shape. He glided with a grace that appeared unaffected by the slow passage of time that hindered Devon. His gaze fell on the Glen Lyon pebble, on the floor then shifted to Devon his face reflecting tender comprehension.
"You inserted a fragment of the thesis into the demonstration " Flavio remarked, his tone steady and clear slicing through the background noise. "A graceful intuitive gesture. Even your interruption aims to engage."
Devon attempted to talk. The dense atmosphere rendered speech difficult. "Cease… this."
"Stop?" Flavio paced slowly along the perimeter of the spiral like a curator observing his display. "I am not engaging in any aggression. I am permitting something. This…" he indicated the intertwined figures "…is not an instrument of harm. It is a soothing remedy. The Grand Conjunction is not an explosion. It is a song."
He halted, turning toward Devon. "For thousands of years human awareness has been a scream, in the universe. A frantic intelligent agonizing scream of desire and dread. We create solely to demolish. We cherish only to suffer loss. We labor just to wear ourselves out. It is a fever.. This fever is fatal."
He knelt down resting a hand to the luminous filament linking Croft to Van Dort. "This circuit… it represents a state. A state of awareness that has embraced its balance. The Stillness Points—the glen, the bones, this hotel—they act like tuning forks. They resonate with the tone of calm. We are simply enhancing that tone employing minds that have adeptly identified the ailment as our… conductors."
"To do what " Devon pushed out.
"To engage a brake " Flavio declared, his gaze bright with certainty. "A universal brake on desire and consequently, on human pain. Not to ruin the world. To soothe it. To reduce the intensity of its torment. Inside the realm of the Conjunction the desperate urge to seize, to control, to surpass… it will just appear… dull. Much strain. Conflicts won't occur because the desire to battle will fade away. Markets won't collapse since the greed that drives them will calm down. Hearts won't shatter because the urgent desire to own will diminish.
He rose, his tone dropping to a whisper that still resonated through the room. "This is the form of compassion. I am not ending a life. I am granting the world a rest. A lengthy and tranquil rest. When it awakens maybe it will be rejuvenated enough to become… more compassionate.. Maybe it will merely decide to continue dreaming. That decision will be its own."
The terror lay in its magnitude and its kindness. Flavio had gone beyond indifference; he was advocating a 慈悲 (cí bēi) – compassion – so immense that it aimed to alleviate suffering by softly diminishing the ability to feel it. He was the physician administering an induced coma to the distressed patient.
"You're taking away their spirit " Devon snapped.
"I am fulfilling their wishes!" Flavio's composure revealed its faint fracture, a glimpse of the fervent humanitarian he once was. "Kane demanded the cessation of deceit. Vogel demanded the cessation of oppression. Croft demanded the cessation of his watchfulness. I have provided them with what they sought in its essence!. Through their legacy I can extend it to countless others. An existence in which the notion of 'burnout' no longer exists, as the flame will be reduced to smoldering embers.
He gestured toward the throbbing glow gathering, on the slate. "The Conjunction is upon us. It will be a surge, Devon. Not a tidal wave. It will sweep through Geneva, the surrounding area, then… who can say? A calm swell. Those who resist it will only exhaust themselves battling a current that demands nothing from them. Those who embrace it… will discover tranquility."
He gazed at Devon with a warmth resembling affection. "You are the swimmer. The most resilient. When you at cease struggling, when you let yourself be carried by tranquility that will be the ultimate flawless evidence. Your giving, in will serve as the proof that even the watchful mind recognizes the truth. You will finish the cycle not as a casualty. As a… a saint of logic."
Devon gazed from Flavio's expression to the active circuit then to the pebble—his small futile act of defiance. The reasoning was flawless. The tranquility was genuine, tangible, in the vibrating atmosphere. To resist was pride. To yield was intelligence.
The Grand Conjunction wasn't an attack. It was an invitation to lay down arms forever. And the terror was in knowing, in his exhausted soul, that it sounded like the only sensible thing left to do.