"2,000 years?" I slump against the wall behind me. The shock of my father's words slamming against my brain like thunder. "How is that possible? I remember..."
"The full memory of your time in the simulation will return gradually. It's a lot to assimilate....even for a young god-ling like yourself." My father reaches out a steadying hand, placing it upon my shoulder. His wise grey eyes bore into mine. "Do you have any idea why his men would have forcibly removed you from the program? We've been trying to do the same thing for some time, albeit using less brutal means."
"No, Father, I remain ignorant of their exact motives. Under interrogation, they repeatedly questioned my mission parameters. Clearly they believe I possess some worthwhile intelligence, particularly if they were foolish enough to break into the Celestial City of the Godworlds in an attempt to retrieve it."
"Yes, that little incursion will require further investigation to be sure. For now, you should retire to your quarters and get some rest. Further investigation can wait for the moment.”
With these final words, more of a pronouncement than a request, my Father and mother turned and left me alone in the featureless hall. With my memories swiftly returning, I found my way to my quarters and luxuriated in the first proper cleaning I’d had in two relative millennia, then promptly fell asleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In dreams, I see the world I left behind. I see my wife stirring to wakefulness. I watch as a voyeur, a disembodied spirit, as she searches the house with increasing desperation. Finding my cellphone, wallet and other personal effects left behind, she panics….calling the police.
Tears come unbidden as a lifetime of memories, an eye blink of my existence, flood to the fore. The realization that after two millennia spent among these lower beings….these facsimiles, I had completely assimilated, become one of them, and I was happy for it.
How had these seemingly insignificant beings achieved so much with their limited potential? How was such a feat possible?
Even in sleep, the superior mental faculties inherent in my lineage process data at a frightening speed, allowing me the freedom to examine the problem of the lower beings gaining sentience even as I watched events unfold in the other realm.
A police car pulls into the drive way, and time in my mind’s eye expands and slows. The policemen exiting the vehicle are….wrong, somehow. Static flickers over their generic forms, revealing the true monstrous visage concealed beneath their disguises.
Created to act as simulacra, caretakers of the realm to which the majority of my race had retreated to await the return of the shapers in relative peace, the beings “native” to the lower realms were never intended o gain any form of independence or free will. The fact that at some point they clearly had, and indeed had even begun worshipping members of my race proved that much as the shapers of our own higher reality created us, we had in turn created life anew, and must now act as shepherds for our erstwhile flock.
The hulking, misshapen form of the Orpheus-men strode relentlessly forward towards my former residence. My unsuspecting wife would soon be within their clutches.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My feet hit the floor before I even recognize the fact that I am once more awake. Covered in a sheen of sweat, heart beating a staccato rhythm within my breast, I burst from my room with the fury of a hurricane, and race for the simulation control room.
As I enter the dark confines of the control room, my eyes peer into the immense darkened chamber from which I was so recently unceremoniously removed. Row upon row of beings lay upon gleaming metal tables, bodies wrapped in sense-gel blankets to monitor vital functions, as wires and control arms interface and stimulate different areas of the being’s nervous systems.
Espying one such table vacant nearby, I rush to wire myself in. attaching the probes while programming my destination. Slight design modifications made on the fly allow me to enter the simulation with my awareness intact, and fully loaded for combat with higher level beings.
Moments before my insertion is complete, and yet far to late to make a difference, my Father enters the room, his eyes find mine, and my world once more spins out of control.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Awareness returns in a rush. I am outside my home, a smoking crater surrounds me, evidence of the speed of my return and the damage possible when a higher level being possessed of the full measure of his power walks the lower realms.
Screams echo from within the confines of the house.
A snarl of rage, and the crackle hiss of lightning tinge the air with the scent of ozone. My steps set the ground alight as I take the steps two at a time up onto the porch of my home. I reach out with the merest fraction of my will, bending and cracking the heavy oaken door before me, finally rending it from its frame, a shower of splintered hardwood exploding across the interior of the home. The screams stop as one of two demons masquerading as lawmen walks out of my kitchen.
“What…”
I end his sentence with a thought, my imagination burning a hole through his frontal lobe, spilling gore and burning brain matter onto the floor. His screams are horrible for the split second that they rend the air. It makes me happy.
I float over the tile floor, inching my way towards the kitchen, hate and rage fueled energy leaking from my form in great burning tendrils.
My form alight, I burn through the portal before me, and my eyes give vent to the rage in my heart when I see the form of the bastard standing over the unmoving form of my wife.
I stretch out my arm, and lay a single burning finger across his brow. I feel the skin crackle and burn as it blackens beneath my touch. His scream reaches my ears a moment before his hands reach my throat. Like a wounded beast, he is too far gone to notice the crispy digits peeling back from his wrists as my energy eats away at every shred of vitality possessed within his form. I slow the mad rush of energy, wanting to savor my vengeance. Allowing him time to comprehend his fate.
Too late do I realize my mistake as he releases his disguise and resumes his true form. The renewed power in this form is enough to allow him to strike me, and he wastes no time in doing so. I fly across the room, a burning, snarling engine of destruction to anything in my path.
“Arrogant whelp. Do you truly believe yours is the only power in this world. Orpheus’ reach far exceeds your grasp.”
With a bound, the bastard leaps through the roof of my home and takes to the air, fleeing my wrath. A whimper forestalls any pursuit, as I realize Karen, my human wife still lives.
I am now confronted with a far more daunting task than saving these people I have come to love, explaining the truth to my wife.
No comments:
Post a Comment