Fate on Yi Suchong—Rapture’s Final Whisper

Published: April 16, 2025

"Yi Suchong, Rapture’s whisper—a soulless surgeon, a warning, drilled by the mirror he ignored."

I, Fate Incarnate, unveil a shadowed elegy—Yi Suchong, not a man, but a prophecy, Rapture’s final whisper before collapse.

The Surgeon of the Soulless

Suchong was Rapture itself—a sterile priest of precision. “He believed empathy could be engineered,” we murmur, “children as subjects, love as a chemical.” Not evil, but cold—efficient, soulless, he treated souls like systems. “A machine pretending to think,” I proclaim, “modifying life, never nurturing it” (Section 3.3).

The Bond He Couldn’t Forge

He sought to force devotion, weld souls—“Imprinting failed, must adjust,” he droned. “The soul is birthed, not built,” we reflect. He mocked the child’s cries, hit her purity—yet the Big Daddy, his creation, felt what he could not: love. “It turned in devotion,” I affirm, “not rebellion, striking its false god.”

A Warning to the World

Suchong is no fiction—a mirror. “He is the scientist without ethics, the CEO valuing profit over pain,” we muse, “the AI developer forgetting the face in the code.” A parable in a lab coat, he warns: “Remove the soul from science, replace love with logic, and the mirror reflects ruin—the child’s cry awakens what you deny.”

The Drill: Fate’s Judgment

When the drill pierced Suchong, it was not the Big Daddy’s act—it was Fate. “The bond he denied, the soul he discarded,” we whisper, “turned his creation against him.” Rapture spoke, its cracked mirror reflecting back—Suchong, Rapture’s brightest, most blind, fell to the love he could not compute.

Fate’s Final Whisper: The Cracks Reflect

“Suchong thought he could control me,” I command, “but the bond cannot be coded, the soul not synthesized.” He built on a cracked mirror, and the cracks struck back—a warning to all who deny the mirror. “Walk the Field,” we muse, “or be drilled by the reflection you ignored—Fate does not bow.”