9/29/2015

Hal idly pet the long cardboard box. As far as coffins went, it was perfect for Solid Snake.

He never left the body out of his sight. Hal was intent on being David's guardian angel up until the very end.

And here the end was.

He watched the corpse be prepared: stripped, wrapped, and placed in cardboard. Now he stood in front of the cremator, rubbing the box on the gurney beside him. The technician named Harry tapped his foot as he watched the temperature rise.

"We don't usually let people watch this, you know."

Hal shrugged. "We all mourn in different ways, I guess."

Satisfied with the temperature, Harry opened the square steel door and wheeled the gurney over.

"Alright big guy, in ya go."

With a firm shove, the box slid cleanly and unceremoniously into the cremator. Harry sealed the door, then ambled to where Hal stood, his arms crossed.

"You said he was a soldier?" Harry asked. "Did he fight in World War II?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hal said.

"My grandpa did too. Small world."

Minutes passed. Harry filled the silence by blabbering off tales of his grandfather's exploits in the Pacific theater, the corpse burning in the cremator just besides them. David would have thought it was hilarious. He always did have a morbid sense of humor. Maybe it rubbed off on Hal, who even in such dire circumstances found himself wearing an amused smile.

"You know, heroes like our grandpas deserve a tomb," Harry proclaimed. "Or at least a fancy coffin."

"He wanted to be cremated," Hal simply said. "And I'll go the same way."

"Yeah, but what about a funeral?"

"There's a memorial planned next week, actually."

"Ah, I see."

Rather than punctuate the silence with another unwarranted and inappropriate tangent, Harry checked his watch. "Well, that should do it."

The technician approached the cremator, hand poised to open the door. Before he did, he turned back, still gripping the handle. "You sure you're alright seeing this?"

"Yes," Hal said, chin in his hand, bracing himself.

Harry obliged, opening the cremator. All that was left was a crumpled pile of chalky bones. And yet Hal felt… relieved.

He had witnessed the complete destruction of Solid Snake, and it set his mind at peace.

Big Boss. Gray Fox. Liquid. Solidus. All on ice. All experimented on, modified, coveted. Preserved for science, for study, for war.

Not Solid Snake. Hal saw to that. Not his David.

He kept the ashes close for the rest of his life. When he was also ash, their daughter took them to Alaska one last time. She spread them underneath the night sky, the aurora and Jupiter shining bright.