To “close the gate” all Sam had to do was take the gun and blow her away. But that wouldn’t change the course toward extinction that humanity was already on. Knowing that now, what would be the point of taking that gun? Having just heard Amelie’s confession, she wasn’t the only Extinction Entity. Repatriates, those with DOOMS, and even Bridge Babies—if they had been born to resist extinction, then he also had to acknowledge that they were used to arrive at extinction. Sam gingerly reached forward and gripped the gun.
He had to choose. Had to decide. Had to make a move one way or the other. If he didn’t, nothing would ever change.
He adjusted the weight of the gun in his hand. It felt heavier than any other cargo he had ever had to carry, and much more fragile.
The wind blew and the dreamcatcher hanging by his chest swayed in the breeze. It felt like the wind was blowing right through him, freeing him from all the weight. The gun dropped out of his hand and fell into the sand. These human hands that had forged so many tools over the ages to keep enemies away now held nothing.
Instead, Sam reached out both arms like a newborn baby grasping out for anything it could get its hands on.
He embraced Amelie.
He felt her warmth, smelled her scent, and felt her heartbeat through her chest.
“We’re always connected, no matter what. You taught me that.”
Amelie hugged Sam back tightly. Sam responded. Their physical barriers dissolved and their kas connected.
—Here. It’s a dreamcatcher.
Sam was a young boy when Amelie had given him the dreamcatcher on the Beach.
—Wear it when you sleep, and I’ll keep the nightmares away. I’ll always be with you. When you’re all grown up, you’ll need it to make us whole again. And when the time comes… you’ll have to stop me. You’re the only one who can. Promise you’ll remember, Sam… I’ll be waiting for you on the Beach.
The fragments of his dream reconnected into one. The dreamcatcher turned bad dreams into good. But dreams are just dreams. Once you wake up, the same reality from before you closed your eyes is still waiting for you. But sometimes, the power of dreams that you had in the past can show you a different side to reality in the future. That was what Amelie had wanted to say back then. But Sam had been young and hadn’t been able to appreciate the value of what he had been given. Now he did.
“You knew. You always knew,” Sam said.
“ I did and I didn’t. I had so many dreams of the future. I didn’t know which ones to trust. Which is why I decided to share them with you and the others. But, to connect the dots, to make sense of everything, you need perspective. You need time. Time has no meaning to me. I am not a line, I am a single point. Which is why all I could do was just show you all the choices, and let you decide.”
“Our nightmares are your dreams?” he asked.
“You found the common thread—the strand that links them together. And you did that the only way possible. By living life one day at a time.”
Amelie lifted her face from where it had been buried in Sam’s chest, and the outline of the pair that had fused into one returned to normal.
Amelie thanked Sam and looked at the gun at his feet.
“A gun won’t help you here. But it still has a role to play. It was the bonds between people that brought the world together. And if that is what matters most to you, then I will stay here on this Beach. Once the Last Stranding starts, it can’t be stopped. I can’t go with you. All I can do is try to spare you the worst.”
“Why do you have to stay on the Beach?” Sam asked.
“I am the Beach. And I must stay here and ensure that the extinction happens. Even if it takes tens or hundreds of thousands of years. That’s what an EE does. If I stay here to pay the price—to be the sacrifice—then you should be able to have some more time. It’s just that…”
As Amelie looked at Sam, she smiled a human smile.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I got so tired of waiting. And I figured that no one would blame me if I just got it all over with, so that’s what I did. I don’t remember when or where, but that’s how I felt.”
Maybe that was the little girl talking who was yet to arrive at the truth. Maybe it was the old lady whose entire body was afflicted with cancer cells. Maybe it was even the woman who had the epiphany about rebuilding America. She had a dream and she couldn’t talk to anyone else about it.
“But you and the others came together—connected. And you may be living on borrowed time… but you still have hope. Before each of the Big Five, life rebelled. They fought back. Evolved in order to survive. The extinction isn’t just an ending. It’s an opportunity. And if I have to pay the price for that, then so be it. Even if we aren’t together, we will always be connected.”
Amelie pulled Sam into another tight hug.
“Thank you, Sam.”
Those were her last words. The strength in her arms suddenly slackened and the sandy beach had been swallowed up by a sea of blood. They were held afloat in a bottomless ocean. But only Sam was dragged back down. Amelie’s voice echoed in his ears and her warmth remained in his chest as he sunk to the bottom.
EPILOGUE I
“For too long have we lived as strangers to one another, divided by walls built to keep us safe. But now we have a new world.”
Sam had his back to the wall by the window and was listening to that voice. There was nothing outside of the window frame, but the backdrop of Capital Knot City was plugged into it. In the president’s Oval Office, where Bridget had breathed her last breath and where everything had begun, Sam was listening to the inaugural speech of a new president.
He hadn’t spoken about what had happened on the Beach to anyone. He couldn’t quite explain everything himself, so he didn’t feel like filling in any of the others. Humans lived by interpreting the world based on their own experiences. That was part of the reason why the Beach belonged to each individual person.
There was no need for every person to see exactly the same thing from the same perspective and place.
People had been calling for the ceremony. “A new country needs a new leader,” they said. That’s why this room had been decorated by hologram.
“And with the completion of the Chiral Network, we may at last move forward as a people united. Today, we come together to celebrate the birth of a new nation. A new nation for a new world—the United Cities of America.”
That network now broadcast the president’s message across the entire country. To the citizens of this new nation it was like their new president was speaking in front of their very faces.
“I once took an oath to support… and defend the Constitution of the United States. And so, as your president, I hereby swear once again to support and defend you, the people of the UCA. To share your destiny as a new me.”
There was a slight commotion. Sam looked up.
“Let there be a new America. An America where we can face one another—where we can speak our minds and open our hearts. The old ways die hard. But I believe, my fellow Americans, that we have the strength and the courage to rise above our past and embrace our future.”
Die-Hardman stood there, maskless. But even though the new leader had removed his mask, that didn’t mean that every veil and embellishment had disappeared. It was like there was an entirely new layer. Sam looked down at the worn-out photo and sighed. It had returned with him from the Beach. The picture showed Lucy, Sam, and her. It was different from what was in Sam’s memory.
“The Death Stranding is a part of that past. An enduring shadow. A constant reminder of what could have been. That we stand here today is testament not to the greatness of any one individual, but to our capacity to come together. To the bonds between us. To our collective greatness. All things must come to an end, ourselves included. But as long as we savor each moment, find joy in the promise of tomorrow, embrace hope and reject despair, we will endure. President Bridget Strand and her daughter, Samantha America Strand, sacrificed everything in their pursuit of hope—that we, the people, might be whole again. That they are not here today to see the fruits of their labor fills us all with a profound sadness…”