He was dead. He knew that much.
It was funny. When he'd joined, the army hadn't seemed that bad. Even when they were sent into the war zones, even as he saw men and women die around him, the concept of dying had simply never occurred to him. Just point, shoot, follow orders, eat, sleep, repeat.
War numbed a person. He had been different from the other cadets. He'd only cried once from homesickness, and he never had the nightmares others talked about after seeing death for the first time. It looked like the kids at home were right, to an extent. He, Jackson Darby, was a freak.
But if he was a freak, then that meant he'd just died from a missile, or bomb, or bullet or something. It meant he hadn't seen a firefight between a bunch of giant robots, hadn't seen his comrades' flesh melt from lasers, and there hadn't been some enormous bucket-headed metal behemoth destroy some weird glowing box that had gone off with the force of an atomic bomb.
Probably. Despite popular belief, he usually was quite sane. In fact, he considered himself to be a very rational person.
Therefore, rationally speaking, if he still retained his memories and conscience, then he was still him, meaning he was technically alive. Either that, or heaven forgot to pay the electric bill.
A peculiar sensation (he felt things, emotionally and intuitively speaking, which was further proof of his alive status) came over him, and began to have the sensation that someone, or thing was towering over him. He wished he could feel his limbs and move, but it wouldn't have done much good considering he couldn't even see.
"Yes, some light would be preferred, little one."
Of course he wouldn't be dead. he would just get the voices in his head. If he was some sort of vegetable now, he was going to be very ticked off.
"Your memories indicate that despite a...vegetable being organic, your species tend to eat them for the nutrients your omnivorous species requires."
Considering he probably wasn't waking up soon, Jack decided to humor this voice that appeared to be a new extension of his conscience.
"Uh, yeah we eat them. But you should know that, right? I mean, you're me."
If haughtiness was a perfume, this new voice would have been cited for an extensive carbon footprint. "I am NOT you. I am the life-giver, the defeater of chaos itself."
Jack began to realise that not only was he alive, but he appeared to be trapped in his mind with something that was the not comforting presense of himself, but a foreign being. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The crushing grief that rushed from the being nearly overwelmed the limbo-stuck soldier. After a moment, the voice composed itself. "I was and am called many names by my people. In your tongue, however, I would be known as Primus. And fate has decreed that you, Jackson Darby, shall be my vessel."
The last time I checked, bunnies were herbivores. These plot bunnies ate all the carrots and leaves destined for Tick Tock, and then started on my brain.
So leave a comment please, on whether I should continue with story, or if I should focus all energy of Tick Tock.
