Forever in a Day, Chapter Two

"Without the darkness, how would we recognize the light?"
-Tuvok "Cold Fire"

-

The system itself had no name, just a number. A number etched into the minds of every single Federation citizen across the four quadrants as the site of one of the last remaining mysteries.

UFC 465537. The home system of the Guardian of Forever.

Far above the surface of the system's only planet, lit by the dead, cold and distant star, a beacon pulses steadily, it's rhythmic signal stretching out across the ether. Placed there by the starship Enterprise under the command of Captain James Kirk, it has stood guard for nearly a thousand years, warning all ships away from the world and the artefact lying beneath it. In all that time, none have ventured the surface of the planet, stood beneath it's skies or gazed upon the awe of the Guardian.

For nearly a millennium, the planet has stood cold and silent, haunted only by the winds of time.

No longer.

-

He stood alone on the shifting sands, listening to the strange howling of the wind, a sound which cut through even him and sent shivers through his very soul. It was as though the dead themselves were trying to warn him away from his course of action, to return home and never think of this place again. Only the Damned live here, they cried, close your eyes and avoid their hungry stares.

The ground was the brackish grey of an open grave, rocks and shale jutting out at impossible angles like bones reaching for the lightning-filled skies. In the distance, lay the remains of a civilization so ancient that none remembered their name. Not even his people had memories stretching back that far. The city had always lain there, the ruins shifting in and out of time and memory like a dream upon waking. Sparkling and incandescent one moment, cold and dead the next. So has it always been, and so shall it always be.

The air itself smelled of ozone, the smell of a storm about to break. An oddity, since it had not rained on this planet in millions of years, perhaps even longer. The entire world had the impression of a single moment, stretched into eternity. Never beginning, never ending. Only being.

A world perched on the edge of Forever.

Before him lay the Guardian, the strangely shaped archway laying quietly in the night. While the rest of the planet seemed dark and grey, coated by an impenetrable layer of dust, the Guardian itself sparkled like new, as though it had been placed there only moments before. In a cold world, it alone held any vestiges of warmth. Some of the few who had seen the Guardian spoke of a feeling of awe-inspiring power, and yet he felt only a cold knot of terror deep within himself. He had long ago witnessed the power he had come to release from imprisonment, and he found it difficult to justify his coming actions to himself. Long before any of the other races had gained sentience, had risen from the subatomic sludge to walk on dry land, the Multiverse itself had shaken in terror of this one, a weapon as equally terrifying as the danger it was created to protect against. It was with good reason it had been imprisoned here, and while he personally believed that some things were best left forgotten, others disagreed.

It was a difficult thing to admit terror. Especially for a Q. Gathering his courage, he stepped forward.

"Guardian."

A flash of light, and he was witnessing history itself. The birth of the Continuum, the teachings of Surak of Vulcan, Kahless the Unforgettable forging the first Bat'leth, humans discovering fire, all of the images flew across the face of the Guardian in the blink of an eye.

"The time has come." He drew a breath he didn't need, a strangely mortal act, but one which brought him comfort. "Let me see him."

The booming voice of the Guardian echoed across the plain, rattling stones and drowning out the thunder. "I MUST AGAIN WARN AGAINST THIS THING YOU INTEND. IT IS A PLAGUE, A POWER THAT, IF RELEASED, WOULD SWEEP ACROSS ALL OF CREATION LIKE FIRE UPON TIMBER, LEAVING NOTHING BUT ASHES AND DEATH BEHIND. SHOULD THIS ONE ESCAPE, HISTORY ITSELF SHALL END AND DARKNESS PREVAIL."

All arguments which had been made, and dismissed by the First Ones. "We know. It was what he was created to do. He was a weapon we found could not be controlled. He must be dealt with decisively. You of all should realize this."

"SINCE THE DARK TIMES, I HAVE PROTECTED ALL OF CREATION BY IMPRISONING THIS ONE. A SINGLE MISTAKE CAN UNRAVEL ALL."

"The Continuum realizes and appreciates this. The time, however, has come for the end. The danger has not been seen since his imprisonment. He is a relic of another time." He sighed. The Continuum itself depended on harmony, on the consensus of billions of minds. For the first time in his long life, he found himself hesitant to obey. "Let him go."

"I HAVE HELD HIM FOR TWICE TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS," The Guardian spoke, it's resonant voice tinged with regret, and a hint of fear, "AND NOW, I RELINQUISH MY CHARGE."

Q stepped forward as the mists of time flowed like quicksilver around the Guardian, millions of eras and images coalescing faster than even his immortal eye could see. The swirling colours darkening to a never-ending pool of blood red, and within that pool...

Appolyon. The Destroyer.

A member of the Q from the dawn of the Continuum, changed and shifted on a deep level to fight against an almost forgotten enemy. Given power over creation itself, the abilities of every member of his race magnified a million fold within him. For a time, he had been their final hope in a war so terrible that the destruction of the entire Multiverse had been deemed preferable to defeat, but as the war drew to a close, the First Ones had realized their mistake.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Appolyon had been a moral pillar of the Continuum, one of the greatest minds and philosophers the fledgling Q had known. The power required of this weapon required a mind capable of controlling it, and a being possessed of the compassion not to use it. Appolyon had been the only choice, and so they had changed him. Made a demigod into a god. In the beginning, none saw the danger. None saw the problems which would arise as Appolyon used his power to create or to destroy. He was, after all, one of them. It was only near the end that the danger became apparent, as they realized that he was no longer the Q they had chosen. He had become power-hungry, destroying entire universes on a whim, claiming that they might someday become a threat to the Continuum. As the first war ended without needing the weapon they had created, the First Ones turned on that very same weapon, launching a war on one of their own. In the end, as the dead Q littered the universe, they succeeded in draining most of his power and imprisoning him within the Guardian of Forever. Since then, he had lain outside of time and space, awaiting judgment.

Judgment which had now come.

-

Cold.

So cold.

So weak.

Why?

It hurts. The sand hurts my feet.

Sand?

I can feel sand under my feet.

I can feel wind on my face.

My God. I can feel again. I can feel more than just the cold.

-

Q stood above the huddled form of Appolyon as the ancient being rocked himself in a foetal position on the ground. For a moment, he felt pity for the creature in front of him. Locked away in nothingness for four hundred thousand years, separated from everything you knew, what would that do to a person?

Physically, Appolyon resembled nothing more than a hunched old man, the skin drawn taught against the outline of the bones, dark hollows framing clouded eyes that looked out at the desolate world around them in fascination and wonder. Wisps of white hair clung to the wizened scalp and floated in the breeze. Claw like fingers scraped at the ground, welcoming the rough touch of the gravel.

Spiritually, he felt much the same. Gone was the powerful and dangerous weapon the Q had created. Gone was the great and noble mind that they had twisted. It was all gone, leaving behind a blank slate and broken mind.

A moment of pity, broken by the memories of the dead and dying Q as the god Appolyon wreaked judgment on the Multiverse. Q's jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed.

-

I can see again. Colours, lights, more than just darkness.

The gravel on my fingertips is rough to the touch. It hurts, but it's touch. More than just cold numbness.

The smell. It's about to rain.

A storm is coming.

What is that?

I can hear something.

-

"Get up."

Q looked down at the huddling creature on the ground. The only reaction was Appolyon's gaze, which lifted up to look at him in wonder. The glazed eyes struggled to focus on his features as Appolyon rose on weakened muscles to his knees.

"The Continuum has decided that the time has come for you to face judgment for your crimes." Q recited the words as the First Ones had recited them to him. The words were important, they claimed. The words were warning, more warning than he had given to the billions he had killed.

One must always prove oneself to be better than one's enemy, and one must never show fear.

-

I can hear a voice. It's been so long.

It's hard to understand what is being said.

Think. What words?

Time.

Continuum.

Crimes.

Judgement.

Decided.

I know those words. Words...

And a name.

Continuum.

I know that name.

-

"Continuum..."

The voice was raspy and hoarse, a mere shadow of the rich and melodic tones Appolyon had once been known for. The word itself was spoken hesitantly, as though it had been a long-fought battle just to allow those four syllables to escape through parched lips. Inwardly, Q was surprised. He had expected a blank mind, one incapable of forming thought, let alone words. The question, though, was whether or not Appolyon was truly thinking on his own, or was he merely repeating sounds like a child?

For all their vaunted omniscience, the Q had never faced a situation like this. They had, of course, imprisoned or outright executed members of the Continuum before, some had even been stripped of their powers as punishment, but never before had they faced a Q imprisoned so long. The consequences of such a long interment were unknown. Q frowned, the knots of terror deep within him growing greater with every passing moment. Three hundred years addled Q's mind, he thought, remembering another imprisoned Q who had eventually committed suicide, what's four hundred millennia done to yours? The old man continued to gaze up at him in wonder, tinted with confusion. The strange situation was beginning to grate on Q's nerves. He wanted nothing more than to finish this entire affair and return to his life. This was beginning to take too long. Just end it. Get it over with.

"I said, get up, old man!" Rising panic and desperation drove Q to reach over and grab Appolyon by the frail arm.

A spark of energy passed between them at the touch.

-

I am Appolyon.

They are the Continuum.

What...

What have they done to me?

WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO ME!

-

The wonder was gone.

As was the confusion.

The terror burst from it's confines as Q stared, horrified, into eyes that very nearly shone with steely hatred. Cold, unforgiving eyes, that promised uncountable unpleasant ways to die. Faster than even his immortal eyes could see, the frail arm struck out and grasped his own, holding it in a grip which could have crushed planets, and probably had.

Appolyon rose to his feet, no longer struggling. The ancient and withered demeanour was gone, replaced by a regal bearing which would have brought emperors to their knees in deference. He was clad only in scraps of clothing, but nothing detracted from the power emanating from him now. They could just as easily been the finest clothes in all of the Multiverse's history.

"Do not presume to tell me what to do." Gone too was the hoarse and hesitant voice, replaced with the depth and power he had always been known for, the voice which still haunted the nightmares of every member of the Continuum. Q shook in terror, no longer hiding the blind fear clutching at his consciousness. He knew he was in the presence of a god.

And that god was angry.

"I was there at the beginning of history, and I will be there to watch as the Multiverse collapses into ashes." He leaned forward and stared into Q's eyes, and Q swore that he could see all of history in their black depths.

Energy crackled around Appolyon's hand, the pain of which sent Q falling to his knees, screaming in agony. Where Appolyon's fingers touched his skin, it felt like ice was creeping into his very being, reaching through him, searching for something. He was so cold, he forgot everything else. The Continuum, Appolyon, everything. All there was was the intense, ever present, overriding, cold.

Suddenly, he could feel something different. Whatever the cold had been searching for, it had been found. Something was being taken from him. Something deep within.

Roughly, Appolyon pushed him away, releasing his arm and sending him sprawling to the ground in a twisted heap. Lying there before the Guardian of Forever, he shivered as he stared at his arm and watched it wither away to a shadow of it's former self. Raising talon-like fingers to his face, he felt at his skin. Shrivelled away, like his hands, to nothing but skin over bone. Panic stricken, Q willed himself back to health.

Nothing happened.

His breath was coming in quick bursts as he tried again.

Still nothing.

Breath?

He was breathing, like a mortal.

Like a human.

Gasping, he raised his eyes to Appolyon and watched in horror as the frail old body changed. Muscle mass grew beneath the skin, the hunched back straightened, the eyes cleared to a shining green and the wisps of white hair darkened to black and multiplied until Appolyon's face was framed in dark locks. Q gasped in shock, feeling his lungs struggle to keep him alive.

Appolyon had become him.

The spitting image, no, more than that. Appolyon had adopted his body and taken his power. He was him.

Appolyon flexed his fingers, making a fist and releasing it. He smiled, chuckling to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. Almost as if he realized that he had forgotten Q, he looked down at the withered being at his feet.

"I just need the power to do it."

Q grasped at the dirt, as he had watched Appolyon do mere moments before. His sight was fading, and he could taste blood every time he took a breath. He had to reach Appolyon, had to stop him.

Appolyon continued as if he wasn't aware of Q's feeble efforts below him. "The Continuum seems to have grown rather complacent and overconfident. The First Ones at least should have known better than to send only one of you to get me. I am assuming that it was the First Ones who sent you?" He looked down as if he were expecting an answer. When all he saw was a near corpse crawling along the ground, approaching death faster than it was approaching anything else, he sighed. "Of course it would be the First Ones. Who else could it be?"

Q could feel time running out. He could no longer see, and all he could feel was the cold grip of death around him.

"They'll know... what you've… done to me. The Continuum… will stop you."

Appolyon stopped and knelt before him. "How?

"I am you."

With a final gasp, Q felt his lungs collapse and the darkness claimed him.

-

Rising to his feet, Appolyon looked down at the pile of dust which had, moments earlier, been a member of the great and vaunted Q Continuum. A race of god-like beings who claimed the power to control the Universe.

A race which would destroy the mind and soul of a member of their own kind and then imprison him for four hundred thousand years. They were really no better than animals, and they were supposedly the greatest of all races.

It would be a favour to the Universe to put an end to them all.

Turning away, he took a step towards the edge of the plain, gathering his power around him like a cloak. As the darkness surrounded him, he called back to the Guardian.

Back to his keeper.

"As for you, I have other things to deal with first. Oh, and don't bother trying to warn them that I'm coming."

The darkness vanished, taking the escaped Appolyon with it, but his final words echoed across the winds of Forever World, promising death and the end of history.

"They can't hear you."