DD-DDD01 (Sep 24, 1988)

DD-DDD01

Puzzle

“Au milieu de la bruyère en fleur et d'une feuille morte, l'odorant souvenir revient—mais un peu tard; on ne l'y prendrait plus.”
Knowledge | Research | Come Back to L8R | 1 Word

Clue

Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Alright, so. This is 'come back to later' for a good reason; I'm assuming you have knowledge of the Archives up to Folie a Deux. First, a French puzzle. Who does that remind you of?
Clue 2: And what's his Trivia topic, exactly? Can you link it to this puzzle?
Clue 3: Well, maybe not a single poem matches exactly - but surely there are some phrases that match various poems. Which ones? For the 'feuille morte', note that you're looking for a poem, not a song; while the fourth 'poem' is...perhaps more of a tale.
Clue 4: You should have four 'poems' - by Hugo, Verlaine, Desbordes-Valmore and Offenbach. Where are these quotes taken from, in these poems?
Clue 5: So...link this all back to Jean-Marc. Find, similarly, his last line. Ever.

Answer and Explanation

Answer: Deal
Explanation: The puzzle itself is a reference to four French poems - Jean-Marc's trivia - containing quotes from them all: Tomorrow at Dawn by Victor Hugo, Autumn Song by Paul Verlaine, The Roses of Saadi by Marcelibe Desbordes-Valmore, and The Fox and the Crow by Jacques Offenbach. More importantly, the quotes are all from the end of each poem. The last word spoken by Jean-Marc Chausson in CD-TEOD07, to Secret, is 'Deal'.

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⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️

Summary of Receipt

Summary

Transcript

[ERROR] ERROR
[ERROR] OTHER
[ERROR] 09/24/88
[ERROR] NULLREF
[ERROR] DINER DINER DINER DINER DINER

I had to see it. Just once.

Marvelous, isn't it? Archival immortality. But what does it truly mean to be “immortal”? The Elders—they are immortal, yes, but they are not infallible. Age and disease may not claim them, but they can still be destroyed all the same, reduced to the stardust from which they were formed. It is their souls that make them elusive. Even if their bodies are obliterated, their souls can find new vessels. I suppose the Universe tries to balance that through the singularity of most Elders. If their body is gone, their soul has nowhere to return and so it moves on—into the grand, intoxicating unknown of a true and final death.

In that sense, even mortals share a fragment of immortality. They too move between realms—from Flipside to Otherside, back and forth. Human, demon, then as human as it gets. Eventually, though, and through no fault of their own, mortal souls reach an unknown point—a threshold—where they, too, face a final death. It may seem common, an everyday affair. But I know better. It is rare—exceedingly rare—for a soul to move on beyond this Universe. We are trapped here, all of us. Here, in this cycle. What lies beyond is not for us to know. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t… until now.

It is dangerous to make deals with flesh and blood. Elders, they believe they have little to lose. But they are mere guests in this Universe. They are free to leave, as easily as they came. We cannot. And that is why we are the ones with nothing to lose—and everything to gain. I hold no ill will toward mighty Zeus, seated high upon Olympus, content on His throne. Yet, He harbors misgivings about me. I know He does. He believes His ways are more divine than mine, simply by birthright. But am I not a divine being, made in His image? Now He plans to send Thanatos for me—yet I intend for Thanatos to roll the stone instead.

I had to see it just once—this… alternative path. It’s extraordinary in its own way, breaking and bending every rule that binds us to this unending cycle. But it is flawed. It has achieved what I wanted—and more. But it cannot push me forward, only drag me back. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve already lived in the cold, darkest hours of this eternal night. I want to see dawn break. I want to feel the warmth of morning’s light. To do that, I must live in a different way. I must live for the very first time. I must make one more deal. Then—then I will be free. And once I am free, nothing will no longer matter—everything will.

The only cure for the poison of Entropy is meticulous Order. And if it were easy? It wouldn’t be worth doing, would it?