Mullen Institute, Dublin

9 May, 2011

23:24—Dr. Lyte's Perspective

:-:

Northern Ireland has been shaken: Damages in Kilkenny are horrible, but they aren't irreparable. Due to the sudden disaster, local authorities have closed off Kilkenny until all issues have been resolved.

But no matter what the authorities accomplish…

I sense death.

No power can resurrect a life without lineage.

—one can only repair life so much, before it slips away. Even Stephen's existence has its limits; all of them do.

Dr. Lyte closes her eyes and lowers her head, turning away from the carnage S. I. A. projects. "…A recorded 27 residences have been completely leveled. Local medical facilities are currently booked and full—"

The doctor deactivates S. I. A.'s projection, not wanting to hear another word… It's too much for her. If Dead Motion's storm accomplished that much, this means that…what happened back then…during the Revolution…

"...Again… It happened *again,* and there was nothing we could do to stop it.

Why did they do that? To go this far…

—it's good Paddington stopped them when he did. If he waited a moment longer, Kilkenny would've been wiped *clear* off the map!" She slams her hands onto S. I. A.'s base, triggering a reaction from the machine: A computer-animated face appears on its monitor, one that seems to pity Dr. Lyte.

"Has this troubled you, mistress?"

Dr. Lyte sheds tears, much like a normal human. "S. I. A., please… Increase the difficulty rate to 1.5. We must push them…the new-bloomers."

I knew it was reckless. I *knew* it, but… Mr. Crowley and Mr. Bennett.

I activated my existence, Spice Girl, and remotely invaded their minds. Tapping into my old talents as a sorceress, I was able to cast a recollection spell.

The "other" versions they see...the creatures they're struggling to overcome…

—that *is* them.

They must defeat themselves…in order to understand themselves. To prevent things like this from happening a third time: *That's* why I'm doing this… I have to push them, or more and more people will die like this.

"Mistress…"

S. I. A. awakens Dr. Lyte from deep thought. "Y—Yes?"

"—difficulty has been increased to 1.5. Cerebral training operations set."

The doctor stands, wipes her tears away and smiles.

"Splendid work, S. I. A.

You're always pulling through of us. Thank you so much."

"It's a pleasure, mistress." Dr. Lyte turns and proceeds to leave the laboratory.

The doctor initially came here because she was awoken by a horrible premonition: What she saw on S. I. A.'s projection; a storm that levels an entire city, causing dozens of deaths and millions of dollars in property damage.

On top of this, the doctor also saw what happened at Queen's University.

She knows Dead Motion is responsible for both, but to push their existence to this level…Dr. Lyte realizes what this means… The doctor exits her laboratory, turns as the security door closes, and inputs her passcode, which reinforces the door.

I'll continue this in the morning, but, in the meantime, I'll monitor the new-bloomers' progression…the best way I know how.

Mullen Institute, Dublin

9 May, 2011

23:27—Dawnavan's Perspective

:-:

The first step: To defeat oneself in order to understand oneself. A challenging task for any person, no matter how disciplined or toughened.

Dawnavan's "other" self pursues him mercilessly.

No matter where he moves, no matter how many times he evades, the "other" self is fast; a monster of unpredictable, unimaginable speed. Ferocity that makes Dawnavan's heart race with fear… "What's wrong, are you afraid of yourself?"

—the kind that makes everything seem cruel.

Time itself seems like a cruel thing to Dawnavan: It's been nearly an hour since this began, or probably even longer than that. He can't remember.

Dawnavan's been running so much, the last thing on his mind is what time it is.

It's too fast… I can't keep up with this thing.

It says we're one in the same, but…I'm *nothing* like this.

"Why do you keep running? Aren't you afraid to die?

…Why won't you fight, Kresnik!?"

The "other" self Steps in the blink of an eye, escaping Dawnavan's vision… Then, it reappears behind him, and swats him away with its right hand!

"DAAH—!" Dawnavan flies rightward, injured, terrified beyond reason. Never has he encountered someone of such speed, power and killer instinct.

I can't believe this… What kind of dream am I having here!?

…Such violence… There's no possible way this could be an ordinary dream.

And it's not: This is the remote influence of Dr. Lyte's existence, Spice Girl.

As a former sorceress, Dr. Lyte is masterful with spellcraft of the sort… At first, the "other" self was an even match for Dawnavan, but, as time progressed, it became more savage, more terrifying. A "monster" in every sense.

The "other" self watches as Dawnavan crashes into the anemones, the back of his shirt torn, bloodied by the grazing of the "other" self's claw.

It pains the "other" self to see this, but… "Stand up, now.

We…are Kresniks. It is in our blood, to fight for what we believe in.

The scion of love can't protect us forever. We must learn to fend for ourselves. As we are now, we…will surely be killed, in no time at all."

—Dawnavan must learn. He must push himself, or risk dying at the hands of another… It's the only way to survive this war.

I…feel that way… I know Stuart won't be able to protect me forever. That's why I trained, took self-defense classes, and excelled at everything I did. Not to impress anyone or myself… I just…didn't want to hold anyone back.

Stuart, our friends, they're all strong fighters. I'm just a manager; an overseer for a powerful competitor… Sure, I have Kresnik blood, but I don't know the first thing to do with it. I…I… I'm useless to them. I feel like a waste of space!

"*Don't* let that slip from us again!" The "other" self booms with pride, striking Dawnavan silent… In response, he closes his eyes, sits up and takes a moment to reflect on what's happening right now: Dawnavan is fighting himself.

Since he was a little boy, he's had trouble believing in himself; confidence was never his strong point. Dawnavan often found himself coming to this place when his family relocated here, but the fulfillment he gained from this field…

—it was minuscule. This field did give him some hope, but it was a transient feeling. This field is where he met Stuart, but their relationship was and still is racked with confusion, strife and seemingly unconquerable challenges.

The "other" self smiles, knowing what Dawnavan's thinking… "We already know this, so reflecting on that won't change anything.

We need to focus on our responsibility as Kresniks. If we don't get stronger, nothing but tragedy will befall the world.

Kresniks ensure peace, longevity and the security of the harvest. We cannot concern ourselves with things that make us weak—"

"Like what, exactly?"

Dawnavan finally speaks, surprising the "other" self. "…You say you're me, but you're nothing like me at all. I'm not this strong, but I would like to be.

Everything about you is a contradiction.

I can't accept a monster like you. To hurt your own self: What person could do that and be able to live with themselves afterwards? It's not possi—"

"In case you've forgotten, idiot…

—*we* do it all the time!" It was delusional of Dawnavan to say that. But when one wrestles with their own heart, irrationality becomes a dominant trait.

I can't keep this up. Running away, not making any sense… I'm doing nothing but torturing myself. I'm not standing in anyone's way but my own.

…I must get up and face this thing… No matter how stupid or weak I look, or even if I fall again, I can't run away. Come on, Dawnavan, stand…get up, right now!

The "other" self closes its eyes, smiling at how pitiful Dawnavan is acting. Talking himself into doing something that he might fail at: This is a kind of insanity only humans are capable of. Even as a Kresnik, a special kind of nightwalker, he is no more or less human than the next person… Dawnavan is fighting in his own way.

The wound on his back stings, but Dawnavan chooses to ignore the pain, turn and face the "other" self. Just like before, but, this time…he's mentally prepared.

"I'm not running away anymore. I may be weak, but I'll fight you if I must!"

The "other" self shakes its head. "We aren't weak, we're unconfident.

But this isn't a weakness, it's a challenge one must overcome. Even the most accomplished creatures are afraid to fail. It happens to everyone.

This is our test: Something we *must* pass. Doubt isn't going to get us anywhere… Stuart is dealing with a similar issue right now. When we awaken, let's greet him with a smile, not a frown. We'll also tell him about our dream, and he'll do the same for us… We're afraid, but we have people to fight for."

For a moment, the "other" self's voice overlapped. "The last sentence it said: We're afraid, but we have people to fight for"…

—sounded like a woman said it… Dawnavan has heard this voice before. But he can't remember *where* he heard it from, or who the person is.

We have much to fight for. So many people are depending on us right now.

If we fail… Without another word, the "other" self Steps into the offensive!

However, this time, Dawnavan's innate instincts awaken: He displays the same speed and strength he showed Stuart at the punching bag years ago, catching the "other" self's shooting right wrist before its claws reach his chest!

So fast, so strong… The "other" self is impressed, but Dawnavan is serious.

"—we won't fail. Stuart taught me that.

When he instructed me back then, it was to prepare me for situations like this.

I was strong even at that age, but I hated my strength, my speed, *everything* about myself. I still do, but… I can't fail. I won't fail!" Uncertainty becomes courage, as Dawnavan pulls the "other" self into a fierce right haymaker to the jaw…that sends it flying backwards at uncontrollable speeds!

I won't fail! I learned courage from *everyone*: Natalie, Theodore, Stephen, everyone we've met along the way; they taught me to brave.

"Never give up," that's what they'd always tell me. No matter how many times I doubted myself, they were always there, cheering me on. Even Stuart, who has endured so much more than me… I won't fail. I won't disappoint them!

Dawnavan isn't confident, he never was and probably never will be. But he has a reason to keep going…to never give up.

The "other" self quickly recovers with a flap of its wings. However, its eyes have been opened to how "strong" Dawnavan *really* is.

And it's inspiring… "We…we won't lose… That's the spirit!"

Dawnavan rakes his hair, flips it and smiles charmingly.

"Humph. *That* impressed you?

You're easy to please. But who isn't these days?

Fine, I'll show you more 'spirit,' by kicking your arse *all across this field*." He stands defensively, his fists ready to deliver another blow.

He's showing strength, but it isn't his own. This is the strength everyone has given him… His Kresnik blood comes alive with the will to fight because they cared about him; they gave him the strength he could never attain on his own.

Watch me… I'm going to win this.

And it's all thanks to you.

Everyone, I'm eternally grateful. Truly, I am.