Author's Note: Technically, this is a sequel to my two earlier works "When
Universes Collide" and "When Fate Intervenes"; however, you do not need to
read those stories to understand this one.
Aristotle's philosophical concepts I stole from my class on his Metaphysics. On how they pertain to the certain physics ideas is entirely my own interpretation, and in no shape or form represents what Aristotle meant or means himself.
Greg Masters belongs to SouthernChickie. Coach Roberts belongs to SouthernChickie. Julie Kregson belongs to SouthernChickie. Aristotle belongs to history. The Will O' the Wisp belongs to Scottish folklore, and first appeared in the show So Weird. (Or rather, I first saw him there.) The Nexus too belongs to folklore, and appeared on the same So Weird episode that the Will O' the Wisp did.
The last paragraph of this story, though I have revised it slightly to fit into the style of this story, also belongs to SouthernChickie. Richie Ryan and Duncan MacLeod belong to Highlander.
Also, please not, this story does contain a few swears. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------
The Ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle once stated that you cannot be and not be you simultaneously. Meaning, if you are to be you, you must always be you, never to change yourself in attempt to be you. A later philosopher and later scientist said you could not be in two places simultaneously, physically or mentally.
But for parallel universes to exist, two yous do exist, as one you exists in every different storyline, changed because of the result of one decision.
Greg Masters knew this. Twice before, he had entered a parallel universe, knowing somehow, he was still in the original universe he came. Twice before, he had met a woman equal to his own intelligence, his own manipulativeness, and worthy of his love. Twice before, she too had crossed the planes separating one universe from another. Twice before, they had been separated, not knowing if they would see one another again.
Twice before.
And, once again.
---------------------------------------------------------
Greg Masters groaned, and shot his leg out before him, kicking over the stray metal-backed chair. His muscles were stiff, and his head felt as though it was attached to his heads only by a thread. Beneath both temples, a low pain throbbed, emanating throughout his entire head, beginning to spread throughout the remainder of his body. He could already feel the pain shooting through his spine, across his lower back, dipping into his legs and feet.
He sighed, pressed a hand to his forehead, and succeeded in struggling to sit up. This, he decided, must be what it was like to die.
But he couldn't die. He was Immortal. Only if his head separated from his body, would he then stay dead, and yet here he was breathing, sitting, thinking, holding a conversation of logic in his head, and yet, he swore he had lost his head.
He must have lost his mind. He had lost his head. But, of course, he had lost it once before too, in a fight against Duncan, and afterwards, he had lived for a week in a casino, gambling his money, sleeping with ex-convict Julie Kregson.
He sighed, and stood, his legs wobbly beneath him, and he massaged his temples. "I have lost my fucking mind," he spoke out loud, testing the words in the air currents, comforted that his voice sounded the same.
"You are not crazy," assured an unseen presence. "If anything, you are more sane now than you have ever been before."
"What do you mean?" His hands dropped, and he looked wildly about. "Who are? Where are you?" He paused. "Show yourself."
"I don't know if you would like what you see, but," the voice paused, shimmering into form, "very well, if you insist. But, as you see, I am only a ball of light."
"Impossible. No, I don't believe you. I cannot believe you." He paused again, still looking wildly about the room, searching for a hidden video camera, or a hidden reporter about to jump out, screaming, "Surprise, you're on candid camera!" but nothing more showed or was there. "This, this is impossible!" he repeated.
"Not impossible, but very maybe improbable. There is a difference, you know."
"I don't care," he seethed through gritted teeth. "I just want out of here."
"I am sorry, Mr. Masters, but I am afraid that is impossible. You cannot leave here. I have orders."
"I don't know if I quite follow. Orders? And, who are you? How do you know my name?"
"I am a Will O' the Wisp. Hail from Scotland. I am a messenger between your world and the other worlds."
"So, I'm dead? Am I in Hell or something? No, wait let me guess, I'm in purgatory, right?" He paused, and shook his head. "God, you turn atheist for a few decades, and suddenly the white gates close on you. Scheduled to be burnt alive within short periods of time." He paused again. "So, where are the fires? Where is Lucifer, for that matter? Always wanted to meet the devil. Thought we might have some things in common," he shrugged.
"You are not in Hell. Nor, are you in purgatory. You are in the Nexus."
"The Nexus?"
"Yes. Just like I am a messenger between the separate worlds, so too is the Nexus a physical aspect of those separate worlds. In short, Mr. Masters, you are currently between worlds. Or rather, you are between parallel words."
"Not again," he groaned, his head falling to his hands, shaking his head.
The Will O' the Wisp looked surprised. "You have crossed the plane before then? That is a rare occurrence. But then again, you must be an old hat at this trick."
"Pardon?"
"Most people do not cross the plane once, let alone multiple times. As you have. . . any paranormal activity in your life?"
"I am, or was, or will be, Immortal," shrugged Greg. "Does that matter?"
"No, or if it does, it would make little difference. You met someone else both times you crossed before, no? A woman?" Greg nodded, surprised, but saying nothing. The Will O' the Wisp nodded. "She was not Immortal, nor will she ever be Immortal."
"Is she still alive, at least?"
"If she is, we are unable to find her. It is possible she reached a plane we cannot control, and cannot reach or see."
"A shame. I liked her."
"Yes, I know."
Greg looked to the tiny ball of light floating before his eyes. Something almost akin to amusement threatened to show in his eyes. "Think you could possibly continue this conversation in a more concrete form? It is bit unnerving to talk to only light, a rotating ball of light at that."
"Of course, I'm sorry. Is this better?"
"Ummm," he shrugged, looking over to see a replica of Julie standing before him. "Could you do male? I'm likely to kiss you looking like that, and I doubt either of us would enjoy it too much."
"Very well. How's this?"
"Oh, god, no! Not him! And, no Richie either!" Greg shuddered seeing Duncan MacLeod -his sworn enemy -stand before him.
"You make this very difficult, Gregory Masters, but very well. I will change once more. It is tiring to alter your form so many times, and in such a short time. Better?"
Greg looked over, looking into the face of Coach Roberts. He relaxed. "Yes, much. Thank you. I cannot hold much against Coach. He only did everything I asked him to do, and he taught me almost everything I know, or knew, about basketball anyway. And, I supposed I loved him, like any son would love their father. He liked me, anyhow."
"Glad we finally agreed, then. Shall we get officially started then?"
"Officially started? What the hell has all this been? Shooting the breeze?"
"Technically, yes. I have orders, Mr. Masters."
"For god's sakes, call me Greg. How do you know my name anyway?"
"We have sources. You do not honestly think the Watchers are the only organization to watch Immortals, do you? They watch you, and we watch them. Following indirectly, we also watch you. I have known you for a very long time, Greg Masters. And, I must say, I am very proud as to how you treated your son."
"Thanks, I think. You were being sincere, right?"
"Quite. It was quite brilliant."
"Well, thanks. . . again, I think."
Roberts smiled. "Shall we?"
"Shall we what exactly?"
Get started," he smiled slowly.
------------------------------------------------------------- Aristotle argued that forms all are powerless to explain the changes of things and a thing's ultimate extinction, for forms are the not causes of movement and alteration. Those forms are also equally incompetent to explain how we arrive at knowledge of particular things. To suppose that something is known of particular things better by adding on their general conceptions of their forms is about as absurd as to imagine that we can count numbers better by multiplying them. For Aristotle, the form is not something outside the object, but rather in the varied phenomena of sense. Real substance, or true being, is not the abstract form, but rather the concrete individual thing. -----------------------------------------------------
It was here; Greg now found his hidden camera, but no in the sense he had hoped. He was not a contestant on some money-winning game show or reality show, as it was the Will O' the Wisp showing the video clips.
And, the clips were of his life.
"I must be in fucking Hell. No man should see this."
"This is your life," answered, the voice amused.
"Yes, well," he paused. "I feel like I'm caught in Mysterious Ways, or that stupid kids' show Julie once mentioned. So Weird, or something, I think. Her two youngest liked to watch it."
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
"Am I then?"
"Caught in either those worlds? No. You could one day be, however. All the planes are connected. It is only matter of which lines you cross."
"So, what do these videos have to do with anything?"
"You are familiar with the concept of space-time, Greg?"
"Sure, who isn't?"
"You are also familiar with the idea of the tesseract?"
"I am. Where are you going with this? I still don't get what the video has to do with anything."
"These videos show what your life could have been like, had you lived in another plane, or had you not died."
"So, I am dead then?"
"You are dead. If anything, you have been beheaded twice now, but both times, you crossed a plane. The two universes were similar enough that neither you nor your surrounding counterparts noticed. Fortunately for you, and for the, your presence did not unbalance the universes."
"."
"You claim to be familiar with the basic physics formulas, however, what I show you is slightly more complicated. I show you possibility."
"How?"
"Are you familiar with Aristotle?"
"He was a philosopher, right?"
"Yes. He lived in Ancient Greece. He was a student of Plato, who was in turn, a student of Socrates. Aristotle stated that a person could not be and not not be in two places simultaneously."
"Uh, English, please?"
"You are you," the response was said in smile, "and, I am I. Julie was Julie; everyone is everyone. No one is alike another. We are all different. However, for a parallel universe to truly work, this must also be true. Meaning, two same persons, the exact same person, can not be in the same moment in time together, without causing multiple problems."
"But you said before. . .?"
"I know what I did or did not say before, Greg. And, I am saying to this. Your situation was unique, but it is not the normal. You said Julie mentioned the Disney show So Weird? Did she ever site specific episodes?"
"No, at least, not when I paid attention."
"I see. Had you seen the episode PenPal, you might better grasp the concept."
"I grasp the concept, thankyouverymuch."
"Thank Mercy for that, then. We can move on. Aristotle also believed that cause was the effect of all things: material, efficient, formal, and finality."
"And that cause and effect is why we cannot be and not be, and why we cannot be in two places at once?"
"It has been theorized, yes. For example, take a bronze statue. Its material cause is the bronze itself. Its efficient cause is the sculptor. Its formal cause is the idea of the completed statue. And, the final cause is the idea of the statue as it prompts the sculptor to act upon the bronze. However, the final cause often tends to be the same as the formal cause, and both of these can be subsumed by the efficient cause. And, of the four, it is the formal and final which is the most important, and which most truly gives the explanation of an object. The final cause is thus internal to the nature of the object itself, and not something we subjectively impose on it. Meaning?"
"Meaning we are all nothing more than bronze sculptures, and the monotheistic God is the sculptor?"
"I thought you said you were an atheist, Greg? But, yes, that is one way of looking at it. However, what I am trying to explain is the idea of the final cause. Death can be called an example of the final cause. You are a product of the final cause."
"First or second time?" Greg mumbled under his breath.
"Both, or either, or neither. Immortals are still subject to the laws of physics. They only temporarily transcend those laws. All Immortals are still human, Greg. Do not forget that. And in the end, all humans are subject to that final cause."
"It's a bunch of bullshit, if you ask me."
"But I am not asking you. I am telling you. Socrates feared that if he observed something with his only his eyes, he would blind his soul altogether. Through default or through something else, Immortals develop a sixth sense to forgo that possibility."
"I thought we were discussing Aristotle. And, what does sixth sense have to do with Julie? She is as much as part of this as I am."
"I told you, Aristotle was the student of Socrates' student. They are connected. Just as I also already told you that Julie was not Immortal."
"Is she dead?"
"I told you that too. If she is dead or if she alive, we do not know. We cannot find her through our technology. But we like to think she is alive somewhere."
"I hope so. I liked her."
"Yes, so you said before."
Greg halted, turning away from the flashing videos of the screen. "So, how about me then? You said yourself that I died. Surely, I cannot cross into a similar universe a third time?"
"You could. However, we refuse to take that chance. You will simply die, Greg. You will cease to exist. It is not a bad path, you know."
"No, I suppose not," he frowned. "Turn that contraption off, will you? I feel like my life is flashing before my eyes."
A flicker of pity flashed in the Will O' the Wisp's eyes. "Don't you get it, Masters? Your life is flashing before your eyes. Right this very moment. . ."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Back and forward the two immortals crossed the floor; swords clanging, discharging sparks as they connected hard enough. Richie's face contorted in concentration as he predicted and countered the moves. With a flick of his sword and a twist of his wrists, Greg Masters positioned the katana behind Richie's neck, and he held it there.
"Gotcha now," he smirked.
"Do you?" Richie asked. And, with his left hand, he pushed Greg's sword aside. Simultaneously, he arched his right arm, bringing his sword around in an arc. Greg only had enough time to look surprised before his head was severed from his body.
Aristotle's philosophical concepts I stole from my class on his Metaphysics. On how they pertain to the certain physics ideas is entirely my own interpretation, and in no shape or form represents what Aristotle meant or means himself.
Greg Masters belongs to SouthernChickie. Coach Roberts belongs to SouthernChickie. Julie Kregson belongs to SouthernChickie. Aristotle belongs to history. The Will O' the Wisp belongs to Scottish folklore, and first appeared in the show So Weird. (Or rather, I first saw him there.) The Nexus too belongs to folklore, and appeared on the same So Weird episode that the Will O' the Wisp did.
The last paragraph of this story, though I have revised it slightly to fit into the style of this story, also belongs to SouthernChickie. Richie Ryan and Duncan MacLeod belong to Highlander.
Also, please not, this story does contain a few swears. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------
The Ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle once stated that you cannot be and not be you simultaneously. Meaning, if you are to be you, you must always be you, never to change yourself in attempt to be you. A later philosopher and later scientist said you could not be in two places simultaneously, physically or mentally.
But for parallel universes to exist, two yous do exist, as one you exists in every different storyline, changed because of the result of one decision.
Greg Masters knew this. Twice before, he had entered a parallel universe, knowing somehow, he was still in the original universe he came. Twice before, he had met a woman equal to his own intelligence, his own manipulativeness, and worthy of his love. Twice before, she too had crossed the planes separating one universe from another. Twice before, they had been separated, not knowing if they would see one another again.
Twice before.
And, once again.
---------------------------------------------------------
Greg Masters groaned, and shot his leg out before him, kicking over the stray metal-backed chair. His muscles were stiff, and his head felt as though it was attached to his heads only by a thread. Beneath both temples, a low pain throbbed, emanating throughout his entire head, beginning to spread throughout the remainder of his body. He could already feel the pain shooting through his spine, across his lower back, dipping into his legs and feet.
He sighed, pressed a hand to his forehead, and succeeded in struggling to sit up. This, he decided, must be what it was like to die.
But he couldn't die. He was Immortal. Only if his head separated from his body, would he then stay dead, and yet here he was breathing, sitting, thinking, holding a conversation of logic in his head, and yet, he swore he had lost his head.
He must have lost his mind. He had lost his head. But, of course, he had lost it once before too, in a fight against Duncan, and afterwards, he had lived for a week in a casino, gambling his money, sleeping with ex-convict Julie Kregson.
He sighed, and stood, his legs wobbly beneath him, and he massaged his temples. "I have lost my fucking mind," he spoke out loud, testing the words in the air currents, comforted that his voice sounded the same.
"You are not crazy," assured an unseen presence. "If anything, you are more sane now than you have ever been before."
"What do you mean?" His hands dropped, and he looked wildly about. "Who are? Where are you?" He paused. "Show yourself."
"I don't know if you would like what you see, but," the voice paused, shimmering into form, "very well, if you insist. But, as you see, I am only a ball of light."
"Impossible. No, I don't believe you. I cannot believe you." He paused again, still looking wildly about the room, searching for a hidden video camera, or a hidden reporter about to jump out, screaming, "Surprise, you're on candid camera!" but nothing more showed or was there. "This, this is impossible!" he repeated.
"Not impossible, but very maybe improbable. There is a difference, you know."
"I don't care," he seethed through gritted teeth. "I just want out of here."
"I am sorry, Mr. Masters, but I am afraid that is impossible. You cannot leave here. I have orders."
"I don't know if I quite follow. Orders? And, who are you? How do you know my name?"
"I am a Will O' the Wisp. Hail from Scotland. I am a messenger between your world and the other worlds."
"So, I'm dead? Am I in Hell or something? No, wait let me guess, I'm in purgatory, right?" He paused, and shook his head. "God, you turn atheist for a few decades, and suddenly the white gates close on you. Scheduled to be burnt alive within short periods of time." He paused again. "So, where are the fires? Where is Lucifer, for that matter? Always wanted to meet the devil. Thought we might have some things in common," he shrugged.
"You are not in Hell. Nor, are you in purgatory. You are in the Nexus."
"The Nexus?"
"Yes. Just like I am a messenger between the separate worlds, so too is the Nexus a physical aspect of those separate worlds. In short, Mr. Masters, you are currently between worlds. Or rather, you are between parallel words."
"Not again," he groaned, his head falling to his hands, shaking his head.
The Will O' the Wisp looked surprised. "You have crossed the plane before then? That is a rare occurrence. But then again, you must be an old hat at this trick."
"Pardon?"
"Most people do not cross the plane once, let alone multiple times. As you have. . . any paranormal activity in your life?"
"I am, or was, or will be, Immortal," shrugged Greg. "Does that matter?"
"No, or if it does, it would make little difference. You met someone else both times you crossed before, no? A woman?" Greg nodded, surprised, but saying nothing. The Will O' the Wisp nodded. "She was not Immortal, nor will she ever be Immortal."
"Is she still alive, at least?"
"If she is, we are unable to find her. It is possible she reached a plane we cannot control, and cannot reach or see."
"A shame. I liked her."
"Yes, I know."
Greg looked to the tiny ball of light floating before his eyes. Something almost akin to amusement threatened to show in his eyes. "Think you could possibly continue this conversation in a more concrete form? It is bit unnerving to talk to only light, a rotating ball of light at that."
"Of course, I'm sorry. Is this better?"
"Ummm," he shrugged, looking over to see a replica of Julie standing before him. "Could you do male? I'm likely to kiss you looking like that, and I doubt either of us would enjoy it too much."
"Very well. How's this?"
"Oh, god, no! Not him! And, no Richie either!" Greg shuddered seeing Duncan MacLeod -his sworn enemy -stand before him.
"You make this very difficult, Gregory Masters, but very well. I will change once more. It is tiring to alter your form so many times, and in such a short time. Better?"
Greg looked over, looking into the face of Coach Roberts. He relaxed. "Yes, much. Thank you. I cannot hold much against Coach. He only did everything I asked him to do, and he taught me almost everything I know, or knew, about basketball anyway. And, I supposed I loved him, like any son would love their father. He liked me, anyhow."
"Glad we finally agreed, then. Shall we get officially started then?"
"Officially started? What the hell has all this been? Shooting the breeze?"
"Technically, yes. I have orders, Mr. Masters."
"For god's sakes, call me Greg. How do you know my name anyway?"
"We have sources. You do not honestly think the Watchers are the only organization to watch Immortals, do you? They watch you, and we watch them. Following indirectly, we also watch you. I have known you for a very long time, Greg Masters. And, I must say, I am very proud as to how you treated your son."
"Thanks, I think. You were being sincere, right?"
"Quite. It was quite brilliant."
"Well, thanks. . . again, I think."
Roberts smiled. "Shall we?"
"Shall we what exactly?"
Get started," he smiled slowly.
------------------------------------------------------------- Aristotle argued that forms all are powerless to explain the changes of things and a thing's ultimate extinction, for forms are the not causes of movement and alteration. Those forms are also equally incompetent to explain how we arrive at knowledge of particular things. To suppose that something is known of particular things better by adding on their general conceptions of their forms is about as absurd as to imagine that we can count numbers better by multiplying them. For Aristotle, the form is not something outside the object, but rather in the varied phenomena of sense. Real substance, or true being, is not the abstract form, but rather the concrete individual thing. -----------------------------------------------------
It was here; Greg now found his hidden camera, but no in the sense he had hoped. He was not a contestant on some money-winning game show or reality show, as it was the Will O' the Wisp showing the video clips.
And, the clips were of his life.
"I must be in fucking Hell. No man should see this."
"This is your life," answered, the voice amused.
"Yes, well," he paused. "I feel like I'm caught in Mysterious Ways, or that stupid kids' show Julie once mentioned. So Weird, or something, I think. Her two youngest liked to watch it."
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
"Am I then?"
"Caught in either those worlds? No. You could one day be, however. All the planes are connected. It is only matter of which lines you cross."
"So, what do these videos have to do with anything?"
"You are familiar with the concept of space-time, Greg?"
"Sure, who isn't?"
"You are also familiar with the idea of the tesseract?"
"I am. Where are you going with this? I still don't get what the video has to do with anything."
"These videos show what your life could have been like, had you lived in another plane, or had you not died."
"So, I am dead then?"
"You are dead. If anything, you have been beheaded twice now, but both times, you crossed a plane. The two universes were similar enough that neither you nor your surrounding counterparts noticed. Fortunately for you, and for the, your presence did not unbalance the universes."
"."
"You claim to be familiar with the basic physics formulas, however, what I show you is slightly more complicated. I show you possibility."
"How?"
"Are you familiar with Aristotle?"
"He was a philosopher, right?"
"Yes. He lived in Ancient Greece. He was a student of Plato, who was in turn, a student of Socrates. Aristotle stated that a person could not be and not not be in two places simultaneously."
"Uh, English, please?"
"You are you," the response was said in smile, "and, I am I. Julie was Julie; everyone is everyone. No one is alike another. We are all different. However, for a parallel universe to truly work, this must also be true. Meaning, two same persons, the exact same person, can not be in the same moment in time together, without causing multiple problems."
"But you said before. . .?"
"I know what I did or did not say before, Greg. And, I am saying to this. Your situation was unique, but it is not the normal. You said Julie mentioned the Disney show So Weird? Did she ever site specific episodes?"
"No, at least, not when I paid attention."
"I see. Had you seen the episode PenPal, you might better grasp the concept."
"I grasp the concept, thankyouverymuch."
"Thank Mercy for that, then. We can move on. Aristotle also believed that cause was the effect of all things: material, efficient, formal, and finality."
"And that cause and effect is why we cannot be and not be, and why we cannot be in two places at once?"
"It has been theorized, yes. For example, take a bronze statue. Its material cause is the bronze itself. Its efficient cause is the sculptor. Its formal cause is the idea of the completed statue. And, the final cause is the idea of the statue as it prompts the sculptor to act upon the bronze. However, the final cause often tends to be the same as the formal cause, and both of these can be subsumed by the efficient cause. And, of the four, it is the formal and final which is the most important, and which most truly gives the explanation of an object. The final cause is thus internal to the nature of the object itself, and not something we subjectively impose on it. Meaning?"
"Meaning we are all nothing more than bronze sculptures, and the monotheistic God is the sculptor?"
"I thought you said you were an atheist, Greg? But, yes, that is one way of looking at it. However, what I am trying to explain is the idea of the final cause. Death can be called an example of the final cause. You are a product of the final cause."
"First or second time?" Greg mumbled under his breath.
"Both, or either, or neither. Immortals are still subject to the laws of physics. They only temporarily transcend those laws. All Immortals are still human, Greg. Do not forget that. And in the end, all humans are subject to that final cause."
"It's a bunch of bullshit, if you ask me."
"But I am not asking you. I am telling you. Socrates feared that if he observed something with his only his eyes, he would blind his soul altogether. Through default or through something else, Immortals develop a sixth sense to forgo that possibility."
"I thought we were discussing Aristotle. And, what does sixth sense have to do with Julie? She is as much as part of this as I am."
"I told you, Aristotle was the student of Socrates' student. They are connected. Just as I also already told you that Julie was not Immortal."
"Is she dead?"
"I told you that too. If she is dead or if she alive, we do not know. We cannot find her through our technology. But we like to think she is alive somewhere."
"I hope so. I liked her."
"Yes, so you said before."
Greg halted, turning away from the flashing videos of the screen. "So, how about me then? You said yourself that I died. Surely, I cannot cross into a similar universe a third time?"
"You could. However, we refuse to take that chance. You will simply die, Greg. You will cease to exist. It is not a bad path, you know."
"No, I suppose not," he frowned. "Turn that contraption off, will you? I feel like my life is flashing before my eyes."
A flicker of pity flashed in the Will O' the Wisp's eyes. "Don't you get it, Masters? Your life is flashing before your eyes. Right this very moment. . ."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Back and forward the two immortals crossed the floor; swords clanging, discharging sparks as they connected hard enough. Richie's face contorted in concentration as he predicted and countered the moves. With a flick of his sword and a twist of his wrists, Greg Masters positioned the katana behind Richie's neck, and he held it there.
"Gotcha now," he smirked.
"Do you?" Richie asked. And, with his left hand, he pushed Greg's sword aside. Simultaneously, he arched his right arm, bringing his sword around in an arc. Greg only had enough time to look surprised before his head was severed from his body.