LUGNET News : ~1112/Fantasy/Sporadic


Matt Hein / Fantasy / Sporadic

Chapter Six, Revelations and City, Part Three

[Anachronistic_Skies] Editing attempt v- 1.0

Chapter Six, Part Three Awakening, Sporadic Dreams

Act one

As the swordsman awoke to the sound of the overhead fan whirring and supposedly the scent of coffee stirring about the air, he at first opened his eyes with a blinking motion, only to find himself sprawled upon a linen bed of his dormitory, the sheets still pressed. Sitting up, and noticing his previously shorn armor replaced with a wardrobe of military origin, he was surprised to feel the breeze from the opened window to his rear, the night sky shrouded in blue and steel, as several papers scattered across the reflective hardwood floor, the azure radiance of the display screens nearly mirrored by it.

As he now stood, he could feel the breeze from the outside beat at him, sending a cool, yet refreshing chill about him, the whirring of hover cars inherent as they flew overhead, sending a small plume of hydrogen mist about the air, the city below them quiet and motionless for the night, its beacons cold and extinguished, congruous with the veil of shadows set upon the county. Most of the vehicles, their tails emitting radiance like icy fireflies, flew off into the distance of the sky sphere, only to fade into obscurity, the city left quiet, save for a long azure beacon at its center capital, as it fluctuated weakly.

As he turned away from the window, he flicked a small switch on the wall, which promptly illuminated the dormitory in a shower of light from a series of overhead hydrogen beacons. The pulsating light revealing the room to be quite astute, orderly, even, Dash found himself to be slightly surprised as he reached for a random book on the shelf, but received a great deal of shock from the corner of his eye, as his eyes caught the glint of a silver photographic frame, sitting atop a chrome and matter study. Approaching it more closely, he picked the frame from aside a slew of scattered files and government papers, holding it to see a finely tailored version of himself and Rose from their wedding night, twelve years before that fateful occurrence. His remembrances of her had been quite vivid, but he had made a promise to himself to move beyond such affairs and emotionally forsake it.

“I’d best not delve into this for the moment…” He thought to himself, as all at once, the sound of voices could be heard from the adjoining room, arousing his interest greatly.

“Dash? Could you do a favor and reset the frequency on the central system? There seems to be an odd resonance about the air? It’s…rather unpleasant…”

“Give me a moment to access the settings, Rose...”

A voice, similar to what he sounded as youth replied, as Dash set the frame to the desk and stepped across the hall, noticing that the mechanical apparatus positioned amongst its ceiling, near the row of beacons, failed to scan or acknowledge his presence. But shrugging off the notion of suspicion, he stepped into the warm and stately room, to see the lady he knew as Rose, relax on one of the bar stools as she read a book, still dressed in her apparel of office.

Even to this day, she still possessed the odd sense of intangible radiance, of beauty which enthralled him, no matter the attempts he had made to avoid those recurring thoughts of her face. Her death had led the poor soul across the path nearly to perdition, and he held no thanks to her death for his depression, leaving him stoic and insensitive. Maybe, he thought, his grievance was what the philosophers had ascribed to ‘affection’? He was human after all. But the costs her death had imposed upon him to his stability, to his sanity, bereaved him…he could caress such a visage all he wanted, but she was just an image, a conjured thought…the physical Rose died long ago, and he made a promise to himself not to allow such memories, or hallucinations to draw him in any further, lest aggravate old wounds.

Her eyes still sepia, her face calm and figure youthful, he could see the past version of himself communicate with several of the control systems to his forward with general tenacity, giving him fond recollections to those the days he had spent with the machine in his youth. Messing with machinery one of his personal talents, he could recall the countless hours he had spent communicating with the mechanized systems through his mind, exchanging logical conversations of all sorts as he performed his daily vigils of duty in the military office. But he found himself departed from those as well…but perhaps for his best, he thought to himself as the youthful Dash’s voice spoke to Rose.

“I reset most of the frequencies…there seemed to be some sort of errata on the resonance channel. Anyway, how does it feel?”

“Ah, back to normality. Thank you…” She spoke, as youthful Dash approached her, speaking.

“Has Leon arrived back from his conscription meeting today?”

“He’s upstairs, working with his equations. You know, for a son, he’s emerging to be quite astute…even for a boy his age. Have you noticed this, Dash?”

“Yes…it’s unnatural…perhaps due to his lineage, I’d surmise. I know for certain the state has truly reinforced him during those studies. He’s growing to be quite the intellectual.”

“You know, the other day he approached me with a question on the significance of Isaac Asimov’s works. Come to think of it, I’m unsure as to who the man is, lest his impressions…” Rose spoke, as Dash replied.

“That’s not exactly surprising. But you seem worried about it, Rose…”

“I just worry that during training, he’ll have little time with us. Shouldn’t they be more lenient?”

“I was trained in a similar fashion, Rose…soon we’ll hardly see him at all, save for the weekends, so we should cherish those moments now.” Youthful Dash spoke, as the swordsman noticed him procure a small vial from the liquor cabinet, only to stop at the sight of his son approach from the stairs, alert and astute. For a boy, he seemed quite well tailored in a military suit, his hair neatly combed, and his piercing green eyes giving his face a penetrating stare. Even for eight years old, he possessed similar looks to Dash, save the eyes, of course, which were of Rose’s codex.

“Leon, did your conscription go well today?”

“Father, conscription emerged a success today…I was accepted into Lancaster Military academy based on your personal recommendations.”

“That’s a commendable feat, Leon…Lancaster is quite the selective university. It took two signed letters from Sergio Aurant and a great deal of political hacking for my acceptance and ever at that point I was subjected to a great deal of testing and the like.”

“For some reason, though, it seemed I was subjected to a great deal of criticism from my peers…why ho human despise us so, father? Did…our people wrong them in the past?”

“I’m not exactly sure, Leon…perchance it stems from our differences in philosophy? After all, men advocate the spread of technology, whereas Antipodes take life in gentle and careful strides.

“Can’t they somehow utilize these differences to progress?”

“Differences are like gaps, which will only continue to widen unless a bridge is forged between to connect, to permit societal integration. One day, perchance, humans and antipodes will someday live in harmony, connecting with such a bridge, but I don’t foresee such a revolution taking place…”

“I see, father…”

“Dash…I was tending to some of my freelance work earlier, when I noticed the city was unusually quiet… did someone order a decree of silence this morning?” Rose asked, particularly concerned, as she poured herself a shot of whiskey, sipping at it lightly.

“No...not from any official sources. However, I did overhear several sources talking about potential blackouts to fend any terrestrial missile reprisals. I’d have to say this senseless war has gone on long enough…”

“Sixteen years, right? Gosh, we were just children when Lucaria scorched the terra…”

“Father? Why are we at war anyhow? We’ve progressed so far in the last the centuries, yet the world is still at conflict…”

“Leon…war will always be attributed to humanity. Nothing, not technology, not philosophy, will change that. So long as men grace the earth, ambition will stare into their eyes, and violence will follow.”

“Father…I was told the opposite at the academy this morning…”

“Most laureates are divorced from reality, Leon…go against the order, fight and die for what you believe.”

As Leon fell silent, Rose lowered her shot glass to the table, and looked towards the sky, her eyes alert, as she motioned for youthful Dash to approach closer.

“Dash…something doesn’t seem…in synchronization. Would you look towards the sky?”

“Rose...I don’t see anything…” Youthful Dash spoke, as he stepped aside her, looking towards the moon, which hovered concealed beyond a veil of clouds. “I heard resonance earlier…it was…foreign…in a sense…”

She spoke with utmost caution, her face darkening against the shadow of the convection beacons to her rear.

The living room, to Dash, still seemed a relaxed atmosphere, boasting at its sides a modest collection of china cabinets, bookshelves and antiquities, which Leon could now be seen examining with interest, his hands to his back. To the side, he could see Rose seated on one of the metallic plated military cots, as she looked into the energy fountain at the room’s center with a bit of worry about her face. Youthful Dash following suit, he took a seat besides the lady, he comforted her, Leon looking at them with particular resentment, although present Dash couldn’t see why. Perhaps he was worried about school…

As youthful Dash and Rose took a glance at the energy fountain, as its jets of energy spiraled about, spattering silvery luminescence in a self perpetuating fashion, the sound of a chime could be heard from the chronometer on the wall, its ringing resonating for just a moment.

“I overheard several Lucarian officials earlier…it seems they plan to release a frequency to the general public on war stratagems and defensive tips. They’ll be airing it momentarily…”

“I’d rather not watch it…” Rose replied, as she continued to look into the fountain, present Dash interested by such an action.

“What truly wondrous technology.” Present Dash thought to himself, as he eyed Rose’s actions keenly, seeing his past self once again augment several of the frequencies, working with a balance of essence.

But yet, to him it felt as though the fountain was another reminder of the complexity of the state, and the intricacy of its energetic nerve center. Through countless government offices, stations and posts, small cores such as this fountain provided for energy and the resonance men needed to survive in harmony, provided with clear thoughts, dreams and a sound frequency to communicate with technology. However, the infinite ring like motion of such energy reminded him of his studies into mythology, particularly of the serpent, Ouroboros, in which bit its tail in perpetuity, somehow resembling the infinite chain of life, and the relentless coils of the state on the common citizen. Work for the state and it will work for you, sure, but did work also involve questioning it? By doing so, he had broken the system, the chain, stood against the tide, and by doing so, endangered Rose and Leon. Perhaps…this was the source of her unease?

Somehow, present Dash was determined to find out, as he stepped towards his past self, only to feel a tug at his legs, then a temporal freeze of movement instilled within his body. Now, he realized, he could only stand and wait for the inevitable. Attempting for close his eyes, a force held them open, as youthful Dash finished calibrating the balance.

“The filter projection should function now…” He spoke, as a faint tapping sound could be heard from the outer walls of the compound, his younger self paying little heed to it.

“Dash! Get out of there now!!!” He tried to shout at the top of his lungs, his mouth clenched, resilient to movement. Only thoughts could reach his younger self now, but even those were stymied by some sort of communications gap.

“Dash…something’s definitely not right…”

“Rose…I really can’t see…”

“Father!!!”

And as quickly as youthful Dash turned around, his eyes to meet the approaching soldiers, his eyes grey irritated from the stinging sensation, although he couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or fear. However, from the look of it, present Dash surmised it to fear altogether, as he saw his past self instinctually leap from his position to cover Rose, as the soldiers their faces weighted with targeting scopes, bodies clad in military synthetics, leapt at them like animals, brandishing their annealed carbines with bayonet blades, like claws, affixed to their ends, with a feral gesture. As they opened fire upon them, with a bloody spray and a piercing scream, Rose fell first, dead before she hit the ground, followed by poor Leon, whom flew against the bookshelf, and keeled over amongst the flutter of scattering pages parted by the bullets, a pool of blood at his feet. Dash found himself the last to fall, all at once, his legs buckling as he fell to the floor, only to partially stop his fall with his arms and his knees, the stinging pain of the fall and the wounds sustained emitting from his shout of agony. As he struggled to hold himself against gravity, his eyes filled with visible pain as blood seeped from his undershirt, some collecting about his necklace, he raised his head to eye the enemy soldier, only to be greeted with a bone cracking kick to his ribs from the steel toes of the soldier.

“Miserable traitor to the state...”

As one of the soldiers prodded Rose’s back with the bayonet, jabbing her, the other soldier approached youthful Dash, only to pick him up by his shirt, nearly lifeless, smiling at him from beyond his mask of sensors, as he slammed his fist into his torso, and as he fell, kicking him just below then neck.

“We’re wasting our time here! Enough with the entertainment! Scan them already…” One of the soldiers snapped, growing visibly impatient as he flipped through the magazine of his rifle, the other soldier leaving youthful Dash to die.

“What are you talking about? Sergio Aurant ordered us to administrate as excruciating a death as possible for the dissidents…I’m just doing my job and following his orders.”

“Aurant also gave us the command to execute them both quickly. Besides, they both seem dead. Look at them. Their cell resonance readings came up at a negative value.”

“Good…those arrogant little religious snots paid for their crimes. They should have been shamed sooner for breaking the systematic laws…”

“That reminds us...where the hell is our bounty? When will Aurant pay us?”

“He’ll notify us as soon as we vacate the premises. I surmise the enforcers will quickly converge, anyway. Heh…and he’ll simply place the blame on a few unsatisfactory politicians…” The leader spoke, as the others began to follow, only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of a penetrating flash from youthful Dash, which blinded them for the moment, as they stood dazed, adjusting their scopes to filter through it. And so soon did they recover their sight, did they see pulses of silver and azure light stream from his wounds like silk, as it spun about him quickly, only to explode into a brilliant array of luminescent sparks, which hovered about him for a moment like fireflies, then drifted to his skin and radiated. As the soldiers gawked at the seemingly dead man which now lie before them, his muscles twitched n a violent manner, and his hands trembled greatly, as all at once, he picked himself up from the ground, his knees buckling, as streams of light continued to encircle him, his eyes immersed in pulses of ruby light. Standing there now in resurrection, he lurched forth and emitted the agonized and piercing howl of agony, like that of a lunatic wolf, the pulse of it knocking several of the assailants backwards with ferocity as they tumbled on their backs to the ground, eyeing him in definite fear.

His shouts subsiding into the distance, youthful Dash could feel two pools of light concentrate at his back, As with little warning, he clawed at the light and ripped the pools of light outwards, heavy in nature as though he had withdrawn molten metal. Even as present Dash stood there, he could feel every motion his counterpart experienced or performed, even the withdrawing motion, in which the liquid light, spraying outwards like that of spiders silk, constituting itself into a pair of feathered wings, the plumage of which spread outwards in an eloquent span of finesse.

”What the?!!” One of the attackers shouted, as Dash now stood overhead them, scowling at them in vindication, as he readied himself.

“Kill him!!!” The presiding commander shouted at the tops of his lungs, as he propelled himself to his feet from his back, gripping his fingers at the trigger of his carbine, unleashing an uninterrupted burst of munitions at youthful Dash, as the other assailants followed in desperation. As the bullets flew at him, with a swiping motion, he swayed their trajectory, as with an arcing motion, the rounds flew in a pirouette to the ground, several back towards them, scattering like pebbles, as the commander’s finger rested upon the empty action, his clip ejecting from the gun to land to the ground with a metallic snap, rigid fear throughout his eyes.

And with a subtle motion to flee, youthful Dash fell victim to his berserk impulses, an in the fraction of a second, threw them to the sky and tore them to pieces, cracking their bones like twigs, the soldiers dead before they even hit the ground, or could mutter a word in plea of salvation. Their bodies now lie scattered, smoking partially, their scopes battered and cracked, and their carbine rifles twisted out of proportion, the ends of their combat bayonets snapped as though brittle, like a walking cane, fragments scattered about. And there youthful Dash stood, his hands covered in the blood of the enemy, which dripped slowly, as he at once cringed, closed his eyes, buckled his knees and fell to his back, sprawled unconscious upon the hardwood floor. And so quickly has he undergone the metamorphose chain, he reverted to his prior state, the light abandoning him as his feathered wings shriveled, like autumn leaves, and scattered into the wind, leaving him to lie before his dead wife and son, surrounded with the dead enemy, as the morning sun rose off into the distance, seen through the skylight and the singing of birds welcomed the sight of investigative units, as they arrived, stunned to cast their eyes upon such a sight. And following with such a scene, everyone in the room faded into shadows, slipping away with the risen sun, as present Dash was left with the burden of pondering such a painful sight and memory.

“But…that couldn’t be possible. No…how would that explain...what Skye perceived.”

Replaced with his sense of mobility once again, and a keen understanding of such a memory, he stepped towards the energy fountain and immersed his hands in it, the feeling of a cool cleanliness, like spring air, caressing them with a soft radiance. A second later lifting some of the light from the fountain, as it scattered, evaporating, he began to question how a dream could feel so realistic. Surely, he thought, this had to be just another memory engineered from the binary process Ludandrian mentioned during those previous memories, all acoustics, feelings and the like simulated sensations, projections and resonance. Nonetheless, he bathed his hands into the light once again, only to hear several footsteps clasp about the floor from his rear with a tone of familiarity. Turning, Dash could now see a tailored and serious Ludandrian approach from the shadows, a small attaché case in his hand, and an expression of concern, as he spoke.

“Rezka, our paths once again converge…” He spoke, nodding formally, his eyes fatigued.

“Ludandrian, I can only ask why you continue to immerse me in such painful thoughts and memories...” Dash remarked, as Ludandrian took a few steps towards the fountain, looking towards the sun, then back at Dash, his face still rather serious.

“I’m doing you a favor, son…these memories of yours, of Rose, of Leon, they serve as a source of grievances and depression for yourself. Over this last week, you have seemed morose, distanced from reality. Physiologically, you’re beginning to lose your focus...”

“Morose? You mean I’m depressed subconsciously? That isn’t true at all!”

“Then why so, do these memories of your past continue to emerge about your thoughts and dreams?”

“I was hoping you could answer that, Ludandrian…”

“Perhaps you should consider the truth for yourself, Rezka…you still grieve to this day over your losses, Rose, Leon, Lucaria, your compatriots, myself and your mother, Priscilla, and cling to secret hopes of one day awakening to find yourself still in ‘reality’, at your domicile in Lucaria with your wife and child to your side, with a good job, with a stable existence, never having to live in fear. But that day never will arrive, will it? You’ll never wake up from this so called ‘dream’ due to the inherent fact your epoch was admonished. It’s completely indelible…”

“What, is this even possible?! Ludandrian…how could you happen to know that?!”

“Such information flows so freely, as simple as you emit cellular resonance, I can intercept those frequencies and analyze them. You still have a great deal to learn, Rezka, but the depression you harbor will only strengthen the physiological block on your para-psionic abilities…you need to renounce these feelings and get on with your life. You have to overcome this mechanism, and then admit to yourself that what you see before you is true reality, not this synthetic world you may have crossed during your dreams! In this first step, I believe I can help you…but only if you cooperate, Rezka. Don’t for a moment; think you can take this on by yourself…”

“And why should I place trust within your abilities, Ludandrian? How should I know of your competence?”

“You don’t trust me? Heh…always the speculator now, aren’t you, Rezka? Do you have to look at every problem from every conceivable angle? As your father, I have knowledge on your physiological block and its method of operation, I have your best interests in mind.”

“Should I believe that? I heard the same line of logic from the shadows of rose and Leon…give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“Look into my eyes, Rezka…are they alive, articulate? Rose and Leon’s eyes were blackened, devoid of vivacity, of their aura. I’m not a shadow or an execution of any sort; If I were, don’t you believe I would have somehow killed you by now?”

“Of course not…you would have waited for an opportunity just like this…”

“Nonsense…Rezka, I speak the truth.”

“Then explain about this mechanism, why you failed to mention it earlier.”

“Such a device was innate, present from birth, Rezka, but it wasn’t until recently, that the device activated itself. In fact, I was negligent to mention anything to you, at the benefit of doubt. Not until the last day, had I thought about it. “

“Okay…you’re making some sense of now…maybe I’ll trust you.” Dash spoke, as he paced towards the bookshelf and procured a small bronze ornament in the shape of a horse and rider from aside several volumes, as he examined it with interest, Ludandrian bringing up another facet of conversation.

“Rezka, let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of a physiological ‘trigger’? You know, a process which would remain dormant until a prompt is hit?”

“Sounds interesting…but I can’t honestly say I have. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Every living being has this code, which includes the triggering of life, followed by the process of slight evolution, and death. Antipodes, however, possessed the inclusion of automatic attacks on their source code, should they question or threaten the system. The attack you had experienced earlier with Rose and Leon was a direct attack upon your code, one which nearly left you dead…”

“This source code…it connects me to the synthetic world, then?”

“The code serves far more than that, Rezka! Consider it the very foundation of your existence, your central beacon, an operating system ancillary to the central OS. Like the system, your source code is thickly shielded, like an atmosphere, protecting such information as memories, genetic information, feelings, evolution, and prowess - even the functions of life itself. However it also holds a particular weakness, vulnerability to hacking when the host subject is under a great deal of physical stress.”

“Which must be the reason I began to hallucinate images of Rose and Leon when inundated with venom?”

“Exactly, but your iron will saved you. You were lucky, Rezka, but you can preserve yourself only if you realize the truth. Lucaria is like a stagnant pond at the moment…if you wade into it, you’ll only drown in that resentful poison. Remember when you are preoccupied with a constant stream of regret and grievance after your betrayal? You’d be surprised to know how much information you were truly diverted you’re your perception. If you would have renounced fervor and spiked emotion, you could have taken matters into your own hand and used hastened metabolism to quickly diffuse the poison. But no…your mind was clouded, Rezka! You refused to consider the truth!”

“And what is this truth? That Lucaria no longer exists, or never did exist in the first place?! That being that I now reside in reality, that Rose and Leon died long ago and I’ll never wake up to find myself in the true past, at the floating city? How the hell am I supposed to differentiate between reality and the synthetic world!”

“Reality and dreams take a great deal of guises, Rezka, and yet such a simple, pragmatic solution lies in their differentiation, this constituting of the truth! Go ahead, pursue your dreams, your surreptitious wishes, your reassurance…do so and reality will never exist…you’ll fly on false wings, ruptured feathers...it’s ungraceful.”

“What? Is it an act of illegality to dream, to wish?”

“Yes and no, Rezka…it is the code of the realist to pursue those dreams which are obtainable…the prospect of achieving the impossible will always render mass failure. The seeds defied this principle, and look what happened…their dreams crashed to the ground, along with a great city.”

“Hmm…” Dash spoke, as Ludandrian eyes him somewhat oddly, pacing about the room below the latticed skylight, as he asked him a question.

“What do you want most out of life, Rezka; Livelihood, fortune, prowess, or to ponder your mistakes?”

“I’d have to say good health, Ludandrian…”

“You could have them all, Rezka, except your pain and grievances. I can help you with the first step of abolishment. Your mechanism implanted by the system functions to circulate memories of grief, and then amplify them; thus causing subconscious depression. I’m going to attempt to short it, to derail it with some resonance and hacking…this is going to hurt.”

“And what if you fail?”

“My entire life, I took a vow that failure could not be an option…and my father, Rezka II followed this same philosophy. You have to put some fidelity into my abilities…err from your instincts for once and trust me.”

“Perchance, however, my conscience says otherwise…”

“Don’t rely on your instincts, don’t make the mistakes I did when I was younger…this isn’t a conflict you can win on your own! Only external hacking can initiate the regeneration process! You want clear thoughts, don’t you, to eschew the hateful screams and shrieks that cloud your mind?”

“Of course…but I also want pleasant memories of Rose, of Leon…”

“Clean memories in which to cherish…you’ll always have those, but now, they’re being interfered to the point of obscurity. Why don’t you remind me of one pleasurable experience you had with Rose, just one? Close your eyes and elaborate…”

Ludandrian asked, as Dash did so, and began to speak.

“I remember when we were young students at Lancaster…I had just met her at a correspondence meeting for my journalistic duties at the time and we were speaking about the war…it was a rather amiable conversation, you know, just spit in the wind, whatever was on my mind…I really…couldn’t tell if…she was…no! Nah…that couldn’t be it…her face…no…oh my god…”

“What did you see?”

“I’d rather not say, Ludandrian…” Dash spoke, as Ludandrian stepped back somewhat, eyeing him oddly.

“You see what I said earlier…you’re losing it…”

“So I have no choice other than to subject myself to your hacking attempt? Fine…if that’s the way you’ll have it, Ludandrian.”

“Stand there, Rezka, and close your eyes, concentrate on your memories of the present, of the scene you perceived earlier! Don’t allow your mind to drift, your eyes to even blink. I want you to stay alert, perfectly honed and focused to my frequency. Activate your solex now!” He shouted, as Dash obliged to his commands, closing his eyes and concentrating pensively on seeking the faint signal which beeped through out his mind, the display and directories focusing within the inner regions of his eyelids in a faint motion. Already, his blood began to quicken, the shrieks resonating throughout his memories, stirring him.

“You’re receiving this transmission, right? I’m going to fire some resonance at the mechanism…don’t concentrate on anything else except the present!” A telepathic voice of Ludandrian echoed through his head through Solex, as all at once, he felt a sudden thrusting motion rip through him, as though he were about to double over and fly into the ground, snapping his bones. Placing both of his palms affront of him to ward off the fall, he opened his eyes rather quickly, with expectance to find himself sprawled upon the ground, he heard a voice once again call to him, as he realized at first, that he had never moved from his position, his feet still panted firmly to the floor.

“Rezka?” A voice called, as Dash nodded towards Ludandrian, his memories feeling for once, clear, devoid of the awful sadness he had grown accustomed to. For some odd reason, he felt the physiological burden, which, like a load of supplies heaped upon his back, had been cast aside into the stagnant pond of his past, himself no longer up to is eyes in its poisonous and encroaching depths. He felt oddly relieved, his mind clear, but yet, thoughts of Rose and Leon remained with them, although devoid of the awful screams which howled about his nightmares when he slept. They were pleasant memories, of the times he had cherished with her and his son, but yet, he realized, Ludandrian was right. Realizing the truth was only half the battle.

“Rezka, are you feeling alright? I hacked into your system and bypassed your physiological block. Perhaps now, the liberation of your prowess will arrive. Still, it may take considerable time for the process to complete itself…perhaps days, weeks, months.”

“Yeah…I’m feeling back to optimal speed…but still, something eludes me…when I focus on that recollection, I still have no memory of a transformation or metamorphosis at all…”

“You’re speaking in regards to the HMT, right? I can enlighten you on that…” Ludandrian spoke, as he picked his attaché case from the ground, clicking it open to retrieve a manila file folder, neatly stuffed with papers and bound with seals.

“Another clandestine file of yours, I surmise…” Dash asked with interest, as he took the folder from Ludandrian, only for his grip on it to remain still, his father eyeing him seriously.

“I’d rather not grant this information to you, but I felt I might as well. I don’t want you to utilize it for self gain…doing so would eventually kill you.” He spoke, loosening his grip, and then explaining.

“HMT stands for the Hybrid Metamorphose Theory, the result of a study conducted by Military Intelligence Agency researchers, regarding the process of temporal metamorphosis in which hyrbird have been recorded to undergo when under a great deal of stress, or a culmination of emotional fervor. The actual process takes quite a long period of time to organize itself, and like human adrenaline, invokes unsurpassable powers, but sadly, at a berserk state. When on the field, Rezka, you frequently undergo a process called cellular saturation, in which the body sets aside a small amount of energy when damage is incurred from exhaustion, physical wounds, or even life force expelled from the use of psionics. This collected energy culminates, and over time, eventually forms the basis in which you’ll undergo a violent transformation, thus starting the cycle over again. On its own, it’s a form of evolution, in which the subject gains a greater understanding of their abilities as they progress about the cycle…”

“Would this berserk state explain my loss of recollection thereof?

“Yes…you can compare it to a subject getting drunk…you’re going to experience blackouts from increased cognizance rates and the massive discharge of energy. That’s now to say, however, you’re losing control…with each revolution, your intellect is strengthening…sooner or later, you’ll be able to control yourself during a metamorphosis, and recall the process entirely. But still, I was hesitant to give you this report because I don’t want you to rush the process…you can die from resonance exhaustion, since so much energy is expelled. Give it ample time, and you’ll be rewarded.”

“Ludandrian…you’re human, right?” Dash asked, as he pocketed the report, eyeing him.

“Well, in my previous life, yes…now, I no longer even have a physical body...”

“So you can’t exist in the physical world, then.”

“If I took residence within your memories, perhaps I could…but I’m not going to…I believe I’ve completed my order of affairs in this state…my only intent was to make you understand reality, to give you further confidence to proliferate into the world…”

He spoke, as he picked up his attaché case, clicked it shut, then stepped away from Dash, looking back towards him once.

“Dash…I have some advise to you…refrain from abusing your prowess and rushing the process…live a prudent, a benevolent and venerable existence…pursue knowledge, the arts and the sciences, and encourage your comrades to do the same…but never let them know about your truth, your prowess… brush it aside, strike other conversations. They don’t need to know about the HMT.” He spoke, as he began to fade into the distance once again, only for Dash to rush at him with a question.

“Ludandrian? What about god? Religion? The meaning of existence?!”

“I reside within the heavens…let your faith sprout and follow those instincts…”

“Ludandrian!!!” Dash shouted at the top of his lungs, as his father faded into the sunlight, only for the swordsman to fall to his knees…take a deep breath, and await the inevitable…

He would now return to reality, to traverse that rift and for once seek the truth…there were more pressing matters at hand for the moment…mainly his welfare…he took the gamble, closed his eyes, and began to drift, slightly like a feather, into the blackness…

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