{The Will To Power}
{Kirschwasser is blind to her wires; she is a God to herself, but just as her thoughts grow completely, she is withered back down into nothingness. Kirshwasser ; Gift}
{Comments ; a rather short, and rather terrible, fanfic for another beloved Kirschwasser. This was inspired by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, who is the main inspiration for Xenosaga – his books are sheer genius. Enjoy …?
When his hands snake over her tanned skin that clashes with her silver hair; over her bare hips, she can only stare in awe at her reflection with priceless eyes made from crystals; not waters and liquids like a human. She realises her hips are slim – they are not curvy. Her chest is identical to his that hold his heart, which controls his curious hands; flat – like a man. Like nothing.
Yet she knows she -
is far older than her body makes out it to be. She is trapped as a child. Boxed in a cage of wires; fake blood; perhaps even fake emotions yet they feel real to her – and though she knows the freedom of will, actions of her hands she thinks she makes, are but a reaction of what hides behind the words "I" and "me" – she plays ignorant to this. She is not just a false reaction from only the shallow depths of machinery; only the of God of herself –
"The will to power."
And she can feel it -
growing, growing, growing like a beautiful flowers; emotions bursting through the empty space between her wires; where dark matter once lay, soon to be filled with disgust against the horrible hands snaking their way over her plastic body – her body she controls – will to power. And her body gives off the reaction of will, squirming like a worm, retracting; wailing out as his angered hand palms the side of her face furiously.
She is tormented. Locked.
Trapped from the inside out and she questions herself; her body, her mind, her will; his seductive fingers, and little whispers and the burning ache on her cheek.
But just as she reaches the infinity; the crescent explosion of her floating thoughts, she sees herself drop to the ground in the reflection.
And she disappears,
Turns offline,
And her will,
Her mind,
Thoughts and feelings,
Are nothing more than the remains of a broken doll at the bottom of Albedo's ignorant feet. And he turns to another; unaware – blind – to thoughts lingering in their wires.