Viral Whisperings (My Reunion)
She calls. Late in the night. When no when else can hear. Where no one else can hear. But then, it is only more fun this way.
She could call to me amidst a room of people. Such as, say, a board meeting. Or on the streets with strangers all around. But she calls me here. I like to think it is because I am so close. So close already. And if I am here, I can do her work. Her every whim.
So she likes to call to me whilst I am amid my specimens. Working. And all for her.
She speaks to me the wonders things beyond. It makes me smile. Uncanny. She whispers of the lazy sloth of humanity. Of the disgusting nature of these pests that have overrun the Planet. Like a virus. It makes me beam. Brilliant. She hazes of the things she could do…
She has my attention. She knows she does. She is my Goddess and my God. My reason for breathing. My reason for waking. My reason for my Science. She has been for years. Everything I do is devoted to her. The way she creeps inside my head, like a lily. It blossomed hope. And so many untapped possibilities.
What I wouldn't give for her. And she knows it.
I smile wryly. A quirk of upturned lips. The wrath of the unknown. My very own Calamity. Jenova.
Jenova...
Such perfection. Such power. Such radiance. So cold and calculating. Don't question me. It's visible in her eye. Both, actually, should you choose to look and see. But mostly, you can hear it in the soothing, silky tones in her voice. In the decisiveness. It's beautiful.
She knows what she wants. And she will have it. Because I will give her anything. Anything she could possibly desire. If it were my life, I would gladly give it. But that would not accomplish anything. Using me, she could gain the world. And she shall have it. Oh, indeed. This lowly Planet she shall have.
Choked until it can breathe no longer. And perhaps a little more. But it doesn't matter. If I can give it to her, it would be my greatest pleasure. Just serving her. It gives me great pride and beautiful humility. But only her. I would willingly serve no other.
But then, there is no one else quite like her. And no one else worthy of my attention. Or my scientific reason. Science first. Because there is love and beauty and passion in science. Perhaps. Science.. Because… It is what and who I am. I don't need a reason.
And my dear lady… She is science. Beautiful science.
The kind the no matter how long I research, no matter how much information I gather, or admittedly think I gather, there is always far too much left unknown. And far to much more, left to process. It leaves me speechless. And quite addicted.
She is a force of nature in and of herself. Something we know so little about. It makes her so much more alluring. A mystery to be unraveled. A science to be discovered and learned. Meticulously. By my hands. And mine alone.
All I ever have to do is run tests. Experiment. Always experiment. But it is quite fun. That is what my specimens are for. And even if they fail, they always provide information. One only has to look at Valentine to know that. Silly Turk. And he thought he could stand in my way. In i our /i way. But it was a bit of fun. Oh yes, quite the bit of fun.
And when my experimenting fails... She calls. Quiet, the ghost of whispers. Soft inside my head. Like a lullaby, so tender to ease the weariness from my shoulders. And when she calls, as all good scientists do, I follow. To her. Waiting, so patiently. As if I were the one who left her in the state she's in. So hollow and alone. Unable to complete the tasks herself.
But yet, she calls to me. Calls me to her still. I stare into the glass. She wants me there. She wants me inside. I can hear it. And for a split second, it makes me wonder how lonely my Goddess has been. So utterly alone. In ice for all these centuries…
It makes me smile. Very wryly. My icy Goddess. But she is so much more beautiful, and quite frankly, more powerful –and alluring- than Shiva. And she is here. In front of me. Just a step away from being mine.
And that is when I can feel it in my heart, my unnaturally unfeeling heart of hearts, that I am hers. That I belong to her. I am a possession. But it only makes my pulse quicken for the shortest of moments at the realization and knowledge. For she has to be the most powerful being we know exists. It is, therefore, only natural that it is thrilling to me.
Because, I will do anything for her. Any whim, and it will be done. When she asks, this Planet will crumble, falling to its hypothetical knees. Cowering and begging for mercy it will not receive. And it will be the most beautiful thing I will have ever encountered. All for my lovely Calamity…
Shall we make it a Reunion?