Chapter 1: A Moment's Existence
* * *
(5 Years Before The Great War)
He stood there, silent. He was standing in front of a what he believed was the world's
only hope for survival. The massive glass tube, filled with the bluish plasma, made no sound,
except for the occasional escape of bubbles, which broke the silence quietly, without much
disturbance. Within this crystal cage, was a boy. The boy looked young, but had all the signs of
maturity. The boy's dark brown, almost black hair, remained still even when the liquid was
disturbed. The boy's soft, gentle face betrayed no emotion, save a relieved calmness that was
unheard of with ordinary people, not with the inevitable battle coming.
His body was well toned, his body one of a youth in excellent physical condition. Looking
at him now, drifting in this suspended fluid, the boy seemed so innocent and young, as if the evils
the reality in which he was born into could not touch him, and could not corrupt his radiant and
pure being. Oh, but how deceiving appearances could be. This boy was innocent, his mind young
and fresh, easily imprinted, the main reason he was chosen for this experiment. The boy, only 13
years old, was torn from his loving family at the order of the government.
Why? Because the experiment required a adolescent, someone who was easily imprinted,
and easily commanded. The experiment was also useful because of the bodies' natural processes.
Because the body was undergoing changes due to puberty, the scientists could easily introduce
small amounts of the proper adjustments into the body, and the systems would adapt those
adjustments to become a natural part of the body as a whole.
By doing this slowly and carefully, and by watching very carefully, the body would not
experience any random, and often grotesque mutations that were seen with the other humans. By
doing this, the finished product would be as powerful, or even more powerful than the others, and
still resemble a natural human being. This way, the public would more easily accept these new
humans. With the war coming up, these new humans would be essential to the human race for
achieving the victory that they so desired.
This boy was the first, and so far, everything was working as planned. There would be no
way anyone would be able to fully destroy them. Even if those monsters wiped out the entire
human race, this boy would be the last one to survive, and there would be no way, once he was
released, to destroy him. In the end, the boy would end up destroying them instead. What a
pleasant, if odd, irony! It seemed that now would be the right time to awaken the boy from his
nap, a chance to get a first strike on the enemy before any of them ever expected it to come.
But the boy was not fully completed. There would be no use in unleashing a weapon that
was not yet fully developed. Besides, it would be a waste of funds and hard-earned efforts. No,
now was not the time. But soon, the time would come, when this boy would destroy them, all of
them, and drive the monsters that the human race had given life too, to the edge of, and into
extinction. There would be no escape from this power, no hit-and-run, no more mindless
slaughters that would affect them. It would all disappear completely, lost in the shades of the past
to be forever forgotten . . . He laughed to himself, oh, how thrilling his victory would be!
* * *
(5 Years After The Great War)
Darkness, an all-consuming darkness that surrounded him completely, without end or
boundary. It was everywhere, as far as he could see, this inky blackness was there. There was no
horizon, no landscape, all of it was hidden by the darkness. Was it even there to begin with?
How had he gotten here in the first place? His memory seemed slippery, something he couldn't
quite grip well, even now. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep, his mother kissing
him goodnight. Then, after a few moments, he was asleep, on a journey.
However, partway through that journey, he was simply cut off. As if someone had taken
his dream, and simply turned it off like a light switch. There was nothing he could do. He tried to
wake up, but it was as if someone was holding down, trapping him in the unconscious world. He
wanted to open his eyes, wanted to know what was wrong, but whatever it was keeping him back
would not let him. No amount of pleading would make it let him go. He was caged off, with no
out.
At first, he despaired, crying until he had no tears left, hysterically pleading to be allowed
to wake. But that did not work, neither did his attacks on the barrier. It was completely
invulnerable to his assaults, simply brushing them aside like a person brushes aside flies. Finally,
calmed down after expending all his frightened panic, he slept. Yes, he slept inside a dream.
Normally, for him, falling asleep in a dream made him wake up, but not this time.
However, when he woke up, he was someplace else. It was still dark, but the barrier was
gone. He reached out, and found that he was alone, floating in a dream-like state. It was calm,
safe from anything that might hurt him. He relaxed himself, feeling sure of himself now. As long
as he could reach out past where the barrier was, he felt good. However, after a time that he
could not measure, he was cut off. The barrier snapped back into place, and this time, it did not
come down.
He remained subdued, not trying to escape his prison. But, for as long as he waited, the
barrier remained. Alone in the cold void, devoid of light or warmth. He wanted someone to
wake him up, someone to come and help him, to somehow bring him out of his slumber. But no
one came. He continued to wait, but still no one came. "Will anyone come and wake me up?"
No one answered his silent question, as he remained there, alone in his cold home, his empty
prison.
He shivered, hugging himself as he huddled in a corner of his mind, trying to get himself
aware. He became painfully aware of just how lonely he was, when he saw how empty and
endless the darkness was. He wanted to sleep, to slip into the darkness of an eternal slumber,
where he could finally rest, and he would never have to be so cold, ever again. But he knew that
someone would eventually find him. They had too! There would be someone to find him, but
would they help him, or would they try to kill him? He didn't care, all he wanted was someone to
touch, to talk to, anyone at all, as long as they wanted to talk to him.
The promise of eternal sleep continued to beckon to him, but he resisted, hoping against hope,
that someone, anyone at all, would find him, and take away his emptiness, before the sleep
changed from a beckoning, a temptation, into a command that he could not resist.
* * *
(5 Years Before The Great War)
He stood there, silent. He was standing in front of a what he believed was the world's
only hope for survival. The massive glass tube, filled with the bluish plasma, made no sound,
except for the occasional escape of bubbles, which broke the silence quietly, without much
disturbance. Within this crystal cage, was a boy. The boy looked young, but had all the signs of
maturity. The boy's dark brown, almost black hair, remained still even when the liquid was
disturbed. The boy's soft, gentle face betrayed no emotion, save a relieved calmness that was
unheard of with ordinary people, not with the inevitable battle coming.
His body was well toned, his body one of a youth in excellent physical condition. Looking
at him now, drifting in this suspended fluid, the boy seemed so innocent and young, as if the evils
the reality in which he was born into could not touch him, and could not corrupt his radiant and
pure being. Oh, but how deceiving appearances could be. This boy was innocent, his mind young
and fresh, easily imprinted, the main reason he was chosen for this experiment. The boy, only 13
years old, was torn from his loving family at the order of the government.
Why? Because the experiment required a adolescent, someone who was easily imprinted,
and easily commanded. The experiment was also useful because of the bodies' natural processes.
Because the body was undergoing changes due to puberty, the scientists could easily introduce
small amounts of the proper adjustments into the body, and the systems would adapt those
adjustments to become a natural part of the body as a whole.
By doing this slowly and carefully, and by watching very carefully, the body would not
experience any random, and often grotesque mutations that were seen with the other humans. By
doing this, the finished product would be as powerful, or even more powerful than the others, and
still resemble a natural human being. This way, the public would more easily accept these new
humans. With the war coming up, these new humans would be essential to the human race for
achieving the victory that they so desired.
This boy was the first, and so far, everything was working as planned. There would be no
way anyone would be able to fully destroy them. Even if those monsters wiped out the entire
human race, this boy would be the last one to survive, and there would be no way, once he was
released, to destroy him. In the end, the boy would end up destroying them instead. What a
pleasant, if odd, irony! It seemed that now would be the right time to awaken the boy from his
nap, a chance to get a first strike on the enemy before any of them ever expected it to come.
But the boy was not fully completed. There would be no use in unleashing a weapon that
was not yet fully developed. Besides, it would be a waste of funds and hard-earned efforts. No,
now was not the time. But soon, the time would come, when this boy would destroy them, all of
them, and drive the monsters that the human race had given life too, to the edge of, and into
extinction. There would be no escape from this power, no hit-and-run, no more mindless
slaughters that would affect them. It would all disappear completely, lost in the shades of the past
to be forever forgotten . . . He laughed to himself, oh, how thrilling his victory would be!
* * *
(5 Years After The Great War)
Darkness, an all-consuming darkness that surrounded him completely, without end or
boundary. It was everywhere, as far as he could see, this inky blackness was there. There was no
horizon, no landscape, all of it was hidden by the darkness. Was it even there to begin with?
How had he gotten here in the first place? His memory seemed slippery, something he couldn't
quite grip well, even now. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep, his mother kissing
him goodnight. Then, after a few moments, he was asleep, on a journey.
However, partway through that journey, he was simply cut off. As if someone had taken
his dream, and simply turned it off like a light switch. There was nothing he could do. He tried to
wake up, but it was as if someone was holding down, trapping him in the unconscious world. He
wanted to open his eyes, wanted to know what was wrong, but whatever it was keeping him back
would not let him. No amount of pleading would make it let him go. He was caged off, with no
out.
At first, he despaired, crying until he had no tears left, hysterically pleading to be allowed
to wake. But that did not work, neither did his attacks on the barrier. It was completely
invulnerable to his assaults, simply brushing them aside like a person brushes aside flies. Finally,
calmed down after expending all his frightened panic, he slept. Yes, he slept inside a dream.
Normally, for him, falling asleep in a dream made him wake up, but not this time.
However, when he woke up, he was someplace else. It was still dark, but the barrier was
gone. He reached out, and found that he was alone, floating in a dream-like state. It was calm,
safe from anything that might hurt him. He relaxed himself, feeling sure of himself now. As long
as he could reach out past where the barrier was, he felt good. However, after a time that he
could not measure, he was cut off. The barrier snapped back into place, and this time, it did not
come down.
He remained subdued, not trying to escape his prison. But, for as long as he waited, the
barrier remained. Alone in the cold void, devoid of light or warmth. He wanted someone to
wake him up, someone to come and help him, to somehow bring him out of his slumber. But no
one came. He continued to wait, but still no one came. "Will anyone come and wake me up?"
No one answered his silent question, as he remained there, alone in his cold home, his empty
prison.
He shivered, hugging himself as he huddled in a corner of his mind, trying to get himself
aware. He became painfully aware of just how lonely he was, when he saw how empty and
endless the darkness was. He wanted to sleep, to slip into the darkness of an eternal slumber,
where he could finally rest, and he would never have to be so cold, ever again. But he knew that
someone would eventually find him. They had too! There would be someone to find him, but
would they help him, or would they try to kill him? He didn't care, all he wanted was someone to
touch, to talk to, anyone at all, as long as they wanted to talk to him.
The promise of eternal sleep continued to beckon to him, but he resisted, hoping against hope,
that someone, anyone at all, would find him, and take away his emptiness, before the sleep
changed from a beckoning, a temptation, into a command that he could not resist.