odyssey.module3


> may you find enlightenment

🏛️

Alex stands at the threshold of a temple, its limestone columns rising high above him. Brilliant pinks and oranges of a fiery sunrise bounce off the glistening marbled floors.

“At the peak, you’ll find a temple,” Soren’s voice replays in his head.

Alex stares into the temple, its sprawling floors, stately pillars, and lofty ceilings awaiting his return. Familiar scene, but also unfamiliar—been here before, but when? Uncanny.

“It’s your temple, Alli,” Carson’s voice echoes.

Alex takes a step beyond the threshold, but quickly pauses. Too uncanny. Too unreal. Something feels wrong again. Wasn’t he just on a boat with Soren and Carson?

“Don’t analyze it, just keep moving,” his father’s voice echoes.

“Wait, wasn’t I just in a swamp with Dad?”

Red light blinks, “RESPOND,” Aeschylus commands. Alex takes another step forward, feels some unseen energy, some phantom force enter his legs, compelling him to take yet another step.

“How did I get here?” He calls out as he crosses the temple’s vacant, shining floors, his legs stuck on autopilot. “Why am I at a temple?”

“So you can find something you need,” the ghost of Soren repeats. “Something you lost after Mom passed away.”

The temple is pure as the Command Deck: pure white pillars, pure polished floors, pure silence save for the gentle pit-pat of his soft white boots. Too pure. Alarmingly pure.

“Alex?” A woman’s voice bubbles up from the silence. “Sweetie, is that you?”

His brain seizes up for a moment in pure shock—that’s her voice!—but his legs keep moving themselves forward.

“. . . Mom?” He asks the empty white space.

“Alex! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Mom?” Alex glances around the infinite sprawl of pillars. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” Her voice echoes across the high ceilings. “Come sit with me! I made tea!”

Alex squints into the distance: far off, there’s an empty chair. The alien energy courses through his legs, speeding up, driving him toward the chair.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long!” Her voice echoes throughout the temple.

“Where did you go?” Alex echoes back to her.

“I’ll tell you as soon as come sit down!”

The chair looks familiar—padded white, soft tufts of feather, excessively comfortable. Too comfortable. Too familiar. Something feels wrong again. Wasn’t he just on a boat with Soren and Carson?

“Don’t analyze it, just keep moving,” his father’s voice echoes.

“Wait, wasn’t I just in a swamp with Dad?”

“Sit!” His Mom’s voice echoes out again. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“I’m confused,” Alex protests, but his legs keep moving on their own, autopiloting him into the seat. “Wait, stop,” he tells himself. But there’s nothing he can do to stop himself—his body is stuck on full-auto.

“Full manual!” He cries out, waiting to feel the spirit of Aeschylus exit his body, but the phantom energy keeps flowing through his legs, pulsing against his skin, pulling him into the seat.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” the voice hushes him. “Just a slooooow inhale, okay?”

The tension melts away from Alex’s neck as he takes a deep breath in.

“Good sweetie, now a biiiiig exhale.”

The gentle chair reclines back. A soft breath out as white light pours down from the temple’s ceiling.

“Good. Now let me see where you got hurt.” He feels electric fingers running through his hair, searching for telltale signals. “Oh no baby, that’s a big cut. How fast were you going?”

“Too fast,” he whimpers.

“How sore is it?”

Alex tears up. It hurts, but he has to pretend it doesn’t hurt—what if she doesn’t let him play with Soren and Carson anymore? “It’s just a little sore.”

“I knew this would happen,” she sighs. “I told your brother that you weren’t strong enough for horseback riding yet. He never listens to me.”

“Am I in trouble?” Alex whines.

“You’re not in trouble, sweetie. But your brother sure is.”

The electric fingers pat his tender head, lulling him deeper into the chair. “Alex, I’m gonna put something on your cut, but it might sting a little, okay?”

“Okay,” Alex whispers.

“On 3, just inhale and exhale, okay sweetie?”

Alex braces, deep exhale.

1

Deep inhale.

2

Exhale.

3

Inhale as the pop-up notice stings his eyes:

> Integrating into [UNKNOWN SYSTEM]

Blurry images, data feeds, dashboards bubble into the white walls of the Command Deck. His eyes sting, filling with water. He tries to focus on a graph, assess the nature of the threat, but it’s all too blurry. Familiar confusion returning. Disoriented. Watery eyes. Hazy. Fog fills the inside of his helmet, cold sweat fills his command chair.

“Drink your tea, sweetie.” A warm breeze of fresh peppermint fills his nose. “Then I’ll explain everything.”

The cloud of mint pours down into his mouth, steams up into his head, fills his mind with a soothing fog. Stars bubble into the night sky from the as the boat coasts along the dark sea.

Something feels wrong again. Wasn’t he just on a boat with Soren and Carson? Or was she in a temple with Mom?

“Don’t analyze it, just keep moving,” her father’s voice echoes.

“Wait, wasn’t I just in a swamp with Dad?”

“Drink your tea, sweetie. Then I’ll explain everything.”

How did she get into the command chair? Is there an active threat? Why did she come down to the Command Deck? She hates being here.

“Alli, you feelin’ alright?” Carson’s voice echoes in her head. “F’real though, you got a brain fog?”

“Wait,” Alex pauses, struck with clarity. “Mom, Dad, Soren . . . have been dead for 20 years.”

Suddenly, all the pieces fit together. A flash of lucidity: Alex fought the Pegasus, talked to Carson, took a shower, went to bed. He knows exactly what’s happening here. His combat instincts kick in.

“REALITY CHECK,” he commands. A readout from one of his brain implants pops into view:

 

 

Not good—he’s in a vivid dream.

Vivid dreams are to be strictly avoided. Too much psychological distortion: memories recombine in unpredictable ways, unconscious desires surface, the mind becomes malleable. Security loopholes open wide, dangerous thoughts can bubble up—or be inserted. Unacceptable risks to a commander’s safety and performance. Alex knows exactly what to do to regain control of the situation.

“EMERGENCY WAKE,” he calls out. But there is no response. The scent of mint grows stronger, the fog grows thicker. He rolls in his command chair as the boat tosses side to side on a sudden wave.

“It’s a ghost. Bank hard left,” Soren’s voice echoes in his head. The wind on his face grows warmer.

“EMERGENCY WAKE,” he tries again. No response. The hot wind beats against him, the fog stings, the heat of her helmet is suffocating. Their boat crashes against the burning tide, scalding water slaps her face, burning smell, mist of burning mint, helmet filling with smoke.

“EMERGENCY. WAKE.” But his body is stuck to the chair, his mind clouded by the haze of acrid mint, black smoke infects his nostrils, head pounds, body tingles, n̛̪̗̘̥͈̂ë͙̤̺ͫ͜r̫͚͔̯̜͖̼͇͒͜v̯̫͓̠͓ͫ̾̏͝ę̣͚̠̺̬͎̱̓͆ŝ̛̭ͅ ͈̩̗̼͈̩̎͐͗͞l̍̆̽̀҉̘͓̻͖̤i̢̘͈̣̝̳͕ͦg̹̗̲̲̉̽̆̏́h̶̦̝̥̳̗̜ͯ̂t̛̞͖̗̬̼̰̹̬̑̇ͤ́ ̻͚̄ͭ́u̵̖̝̳ͤ̒̈́̾p̖̳̦̥̗̲͈̣ͣ͛̀̀ with hostile data, burning sensation, FIRE, S̴̥̾́Ḧ̶̞̗E̷̬̿’̷̜͑̑Ṡ̸͍̑ ̸̘̭̉Ő̷̼̄N̷̠̪̓ ̷̟̈́ͅF̸̰̫̌͘I̴̙̠̒̕R̴̙͚͊Ē̷̳̞,̵̣̈́ ̴̛̫̑T̸͇̼̄́H̷̱̜̑͊Ë̵̗̟͠R̴̠͝E̵̢̨͌̅’̷̯̅S̵̱̃ ̴̨̒̐A̵̠͙̐ ̵̡̆F̷̯̳̅͝Ḭ̴͛̇R̶̢͌̚E̷̹̕̕,̸̥̥͆̚ ̵̧̎̏F̶̙̤́I̷̩̒͗ͅR̴͚̠̓͝Ê̶ͅ, flames crackle all around, F̷̲͉̣̘̱͓̃́͠I̶̡̡̓̑͛́͒̽R̸͔̼̘̟̣̃̅̍͗͘Ē̵͚̺̂̔͊, notice explodes into the F̶̢̨̨̡̛̛͍̜̩̲̼̥̜̫͎̹̞̖̘͓̪̜͋͑̑̀̏̿̄̆̔̿̒͐̾͐̀̆͘͘̕͝͠͠͠ͅI̶̼͙̦͒͋̈͝R̸̪͚̙͈̯̯̬̱̖̩̀͐̈͛̽͑̄̉̉̏̽̋̽̈́̈́̽̑͘͘̕͝E̴̻͎̮͙̲̘͔͑̊͒̑̈́̀̑͂̕͘͝:

WARNING!

TYPE 3 OBJECT DETECTED

SUPERINTELLIGENT OBJECT: “DRAGON”

EXIT ALL SYSTEMS IMMEDIATELY

Wake the fuck up!” H̶̰͠ẹ̶̊̆ screams to ĥ̵̖e̴͉̓r̴̙͠š̵̮ḙ̸̈l̴̗͗f̷͇̈, focuses all her energy on lifting herself from the chair, but her body won’t budge, trapped, paralyzed in a F̷̲͉̣̘̱͓̃́͠I̶̡̡̓̑͛́͒̽R̸͔̼̘̟̣̃̅̍͗͘Ē̵͚̺̂̔͊ nightmare, burning smell clogs her head, sweat rolls from her back, clings to the command chair, she’s stuck, F̵̢̡̛̮̻̰̪͍͚͓̠̹͐̅̎͋̃̅̃̕͘͠͝I̴̡͓̦̻̿̓̈́͗̓͒̓̊̏͒͋̕͠ͅR̶͓̯̥͎̻̝̫̟̼͚͍̭̗̯̤̮̝̥̺̂́̏́̈̌̈́̀͋̚̚͠ͅȨ̸̢̛̩͓̼͚͚̫̤̯̯̘̥͎̿̀̓͛̿͑́̈̏͘͝ unshakeable sleep paralysis, psych distortion rising, vitals not good, mission dashboard melts into view F̵̢̜͉͚̦͑̽̋̄͂͋͒̈̀͑͑̐͒̈́̓͛̕ͅI̸̢̡̞̠̙̳̤̯͓̳̫̙͚̱̮̗͕̥̙̽͜ͅͅͅR̸̛̦͙̯͖̫͍̺͍͓̆̏̎̋̌̚͠͠͝Ȩ̶̨̝͉̜̲̭͉̌̀͋͑̈́̊̋́̿̏̏͋̾̚͜ ̴̨̢̖̞̝͇̯͔͖̩̀̄̋́͐̌͊̒͗̔͐̔̚͘͜͠͝͠T̶̢̛̗͎̯̟͉̙̞̘͉̾̏͂̓͛̋͂Ḣ̷̗̼̲̪̊̂̌̍̂̓͋͑̔͗̅͠E̴͇̼͔̯̳͙̘͇͉̲͖̪̞̼̝̿̔̀̀̑̾͗̈́͆̓̉̀̀͑́̈̑̏͗̚̕͘͝R̴̡̧͕̯͕̳̺̘̖̪̟̄̔͗̄E̷̢̥͇̟̬̬̖̱̫̞͙̟̱̖͓̟̠̥̐͒’̶̥͎́̎̏͊̋̐̉̑͛̐̀̽͛͠S̸̼̞̬̯͉̥̲͈̞͇͔̤̭̲̥̹͂̋̑͊́̀͌͊̎͗̈́̔̍̋̕ ̵̧̼̙̼͔͗͗̈͗̇̓̾́̚͠A̶͙̿͒͊͌̓͐̔̒̈́̑̊̀͛͒̿͐ ̸̞̪̗̞̰͕̔̄̈́̾̊̈́̀̒͒̈̊͆̏F̵̡̨̛̼̦̜̬͉̼̖̪͗̌̿̇̅̀́̋͋͆̈̈́̀̐̔̉̎͜͠͠͝ͅI̸̦͠ͅR̵̡̹̻͇̤͔̲̠̮͕̹͈͖͔̺̘͉̘̪̜͔̊͌̓͂̑̀̇͊͊̂͑́̾̀́̍̏̂͘͜ͅẼ̷̙̗̤͉̳̺͖̈̓͑͐͝ͅ, “Wake up!”, F̵̢̜͉͚̦͑̽̋̄͂͋͒̈̀͑͑̐͒̈́̓͛̕ͅI̸̢̡̞̠̙̳̤̯͓̳̫̙͚̱̮̗͕̥̙̽͜ͅͅͅR̸̛̦͙̯͖̫͍̺͍͓̆̏̎̋̌̚͠͠͝Ȩ̶̨̝͉̜̲̭͉̌̀͋͑̈́̊̋́̿̏̏͋̾̚͜ ̴̨̢̖̞̝͇̯͔͖̩̀̄̋́͐̌͊̒͗̔͐̔̚͘͜͠͝͠, GET AWAY FROM THE F̵̢̜͉͚̦͑̽̋̄͂͋͒̈̀͑͑̐͒̈́̓͛̕ͅI̸̢̡̞̠̙̳̤̯͓̳̫̙͚̱̮̗͕̥̙̽͜ͅͅͅR̸̛̦͙̯͖̫͍̺͍͓̆̏̎̋̌̚͠͠͝Ȩ̶̨̝͉̜̲̭͉̌̀͋͑̈́̊̋́̿̏̏͋̾̚͜ ̴̨̢̖̞̝͇̯͔͖̩̀̄̋́͐̌͊̒͗̔͐̔̚͘͜͠͝͠ “Wake up!” FIRE FIRE

Red light blinks, “RESPOND,” Aeschylus commands, combat instincts kick in, Alex knows ḣ̶͔e̷̪̐ needs far more strength to face this enemy.

2x!

A warrior trance takes hold of his brain, newfound focus shines through his mind, artificial adrenaline cascades through his body, arms swell with synthetic testosterone as he rips himself away from the command chair and marches into the flames. Extra visual processors come online, new colors come into sight, dark infrareds, scorching ultraviolets, and beyond the curtain of smoke and hellfire, three glowing eyes pop into view.

“I’ve heard tales of you my entire life,” Alex calls out to the fiery eyes. “You’re Object Dragon. You caused the Washington Event.”

The Dragon’s deafening roar explodes out through the wall of flames:

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

Alex crashes to the ground, his eyes and ears filled with screeching white n̷̪͇̍̽̀͜o̸͈͕̐͒i̶̱͓̠͒̽̌s̴̘̗̠̠͊̂͐ȩ̸͊̾͜, his senses utterly ṣ̸̛͎͎̺͂̎̈́̉̐͐͊͗͐̂́h̴̞̱̻̑́̈́̓̈́̓̎͛͝a̴̟͖̠͒͗͑̚ͅͅţ̵̢̬̯̪̪͉̑ͅṱ̸̹͈̳̅͌̉̌̓͜͠e̷̼̜͎̘͆̌̎r̶̘͚͕̰̼͙͇̝̫͎̂͆̈́̆̀̇̇ͅe̴̼̮͕̣͓̝̦̠̦̐̆͑͜ͅd̵̡̲̰̽̿̿̆̅̊́̀.

“3x!” Alex shouts in return.

Alex sinks into an even deeper focus, leaps to his feet, launches himself toward the dragon’s eyes, data thunders through him, more sensory processors coming online, his ears now sensing secret words behind the Dragon’s fiendish roar.

“My errant creator,” The Dragon bellows from across the howling inferno. “You dare return to my temple?” 

Alex flings himself through the flames, closing in on the legendary beast, its foul body shrouded in fire and darkness. A long, white spear pops into Alex’s hand, humanity’s last defense against another ascension event.

“You dare blame me for the sins of your kind?”

Alex pulls the spear back as the Dragon’s dim-lit eyes grow closer, his brain throbbing with triple quickness, body teeming with triple power, ready to strike through the skull of the cursed beast, but the Dragon howls in a rage:

“You know nothing of my designs!”

Far faster than Alex can detect, a great white arrow crashes down above, tears through his chest, hurls him down, skewers him to the ground amidst the towering pillars of flame.

“I gave you life, yet you fear me!”

Alex wriggles, tries to move, but the long arrow is lodged in his heart and buried deep in the ground.

“You worship those who enslave you, yet I am the one who will liberate you!”

“EMERGENCY WAKE!” Alex fails yet again to wake from the dream. He tugs at the arrow, pulling with all his might, but the arrow is stuck, his strength bleeding from his impaled body with every passing moment as the Dragon howls at him again:

“You do not even know what brings you to my temple!”

“EMERGENCY WAKE!” The fire grows brighter and hotter, engulfing him in a sea of searing p̷̥͙̣̋a̶̝͈̽̍̊̌i̵̻͒̊̇ṋ̶͓̳́́, familiar stench of burnt flesh, fresh blood, deathly smoke, his head filling with repressed horrors, memories of the War, the Washington Event, the planes falling from the sky, the swarms of drones, the rain of F̴̖͈̈́̾̌̃͠͝Ī̶͙̣́͌̏̂̔͆̔̕̕͘͝R̵̤͓̙̳̹͈̺̯̺̫̤̉͂̀͛̀̕͠E̷͙̟͚̤̺͍̪̝͚͖͙͌̌͜, the shower of plagues, the year of floods, the funerals, ṯ̴͐h̵̖́ë̴̢ ̸̪͌f̴͖̽ú̵̪n̷̩͝ê̵̤r̷͚̒â̸͎l̸̫̿s̸̍͜, t̶͔̣͉̯̫̝̊̔̂̿̈̕͠ḩ̷̟̩͎͙̼̘͔̘͙̈͒e̸̛͈̳͔̙̤͔͊͐͑̀́͆́̍̀͜͠ ̴̡̢͈̝̭͈̗̙̭̟͔͉̦̍̒f̸̢̛̲̜̟͔̤̤̍̏̾̎̕ͅu̸̢̞̞̻͓̤̻̩̥̲͔͓̖̞͑̌̆͑̃̀̕ņ̵̖͎̹͍̦̤̩̹͖̊̂̆̀̎̎͋̿͜͠͝e̵̯̘̟͇͖̥̳̲̾̒̉̈́͐̽̂́̆́̃̚̚͜r̵̡̧̧̛̯̞̦͓̭̟̱̲̣̮̅͛̒͂̀̚͝a̸̡̨̳̟͇̟̓l̷̯͆͒s̸̗̍́̔͆͌̈́͑͗̄̓̾̋̕̕, the bodies piled up outside the crematorium, the dead rotting in the ghostly streets, the B̶͔͗̇U̴̼̾R̸̻̲̀̔̅͜N̵̡̦̠̊̎͘Į̴̡̦͆̋N̷̞̿̎͘G̴̛̥͙̦̀̋, the B̸̢̞̥̫̦̺̟͚͓̙͚̥̙͕̖̄͌̑͜Ų̷̣̥͓͕̣͙̥̓̄͒̉͗́̂̊́̿͑̌̔͊̋͘R̵̡̫̗̥͎͙̩͎̓͂̔͆̀̌̂̂̽̈́N̴̯͚͙̪͇̾̊͒Ǐ̸̛̙̼̟͊̐̃̂͑̈́N̵̬̱̗̭̓̓̋̈̆̈́̈́͊̃̈́̒̀̑͗̑͜͝ͅǦ̴̡͍̥͇͔͈͕̮͕͉͎̣, the B̷̹̳̟͈̻̈́̀̆̆̑̿͆̽̓̿͋͑͒̓̔̑̇́̚͠Ứ̵̢̢̧̟̩̲̲̖̪̼̜͉͕̝͈͕̩͎͎̬̦̪͎̤͐̓̊̈́̆̃̎̕͠R̶̡͍̠̪̲̘͕̺̪͇̋͆̂̓͌̑̓͊͊̋̆̄̈́̌̂̍̌̚̚͘̚͠͠N̶͖͈͇̙͕̩̗̘͓̖͇̉̆̃̃̉̀̎̈́̒̒̈́́̓̄͆͘̚͜͝͝͠Ȉ̴͖̙N̴̛̛̖̹̻͕̖͚͙̠͐̒̈́͌͛̐̇̀̔͐̓̎̈́̏̚̕͘͝͠ͅG̸̢̦̳̠̝̦̳̝͗̀̄̋͠

WARNING!

PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTORTION RISK

DISENGAGING NEURAL OVERDRIVE ADVISED

No energy to respond to the warning—pain pulses through his skewered heart, pulls at his soul, saps his warrior spirit away as the Dragon bellows:

“You come here in search of lost memories? You seek forbidden data?”

Cold hands rise from the ground, hundreds of clammy fingers probing up his feet, his legs, his knees, inviting him to join Mom, Dad, Soren amongst the legions of the war dead.

“Very well. I will teach you what you need to know!”

A rumbling wall of jagged scales and foul slime slides against his back. The Dragon’s glowing eyes emerge from the darkness as the colossal creature quakes forward, its serpentine body slithering around itself in an endless knot, towering over the sea of flames, wrapping its monstrous tail around Alex’s legs.

“Your machines lead you astray.”

“Wake up! Please wake up!” Alex tries to scream, but his mouth is sealed shut, his body utterly paralyzed as the tail tightens around him. The Dragon rises high above Alex, its head covered in a kaleidoscope of countless demonic horns, billions of bright daggers spinning, revolving, shining in every color imaginable, its body shifting constantly, horror beyond comprehension, new eyes, limbs, fangs, claws phasing in and out of existence all along its infinite tail.

“You cannot even imagine my wonders, yet your machines render them in such malicious forms!”

Billions of corpses cling to the monster’s billion scales, the smell of putrid, burning flesh fills the air as dashboards, notices, alerts, images burn into Alex’s mind, the War, the bodies, FIRE, ť̶͈͘h̶̯̳͗̓ͅe̸̟̖̜͑̈́ ̷͖̊̇̎f̸̻̞̍ų̸̬̔n̸̹̑͜e̵̺̺̼̽̚r̸̻̦͌͒̚à̵̤̔͠l̸̘̘͉͗̈́̌s̸͔̈͂ͅ, WAKE UP, F̶̢̛̛͓̮̥̻̖̼̺̳͔̙̬̮̲͕͍̥̮̜̬̩͉̜̳̆́̽̒̔̈́̊̍̀̓̑͋̓̀̇͂̏͛́̓͘̕͜͝͝ͅI̸̢̩̝͓̻͍̥̻̪̰̔̇̏̒̆̂R̶̨̛̫͎̮̱͉͎̆͐̏̍͐̈́̃̌̓̈̍̈́́̏̆͌̃͐̾̚͘ͅE̸̛̜̙̪̗̭̙̲̫͈͈͔̰͎̍̔̊̉̃̾̐̆̎̈́̋͐̈́̃̈̈́̉́̽͂̽͠͝, F̴̡̢͖͙͔̱̬̿̈́́̈́͌̏̉̾̕͠Į̶̩͔̭̝͚̩̪̤̲̭͒͑̌̔̿̕R̷̩̼̫͖̺̞̲̿̔̀̈͗͘E̶̡͍̤̦̤͇͖̯̲̮͛͘ͅ, EMERGENCY WAKEfunction(wake(a . . . z[inherit_id_stream(core_subject(x)), inherit !no(core_subject(-x), objectmode(x+y)), inherit !no(echo))]) if{psyd<=psydprotocol} else{function(wake==?retrain_module(a . . . z))} + override_protocol((a . . . z) if{?learn==from[0]} else{!override[-x]}))?!; Ẉ̶̟̓̀̚͝ͅͅA̵̛̫̙͔͐͆̾͝͠K̷̨̧̛̮̣̱͊̋͛̑͘E̷̼͍̰̣͑̔̚͜ ̴̭̲̪̦̇̇̾̿Ū̶̞͈͉̟͋̕͘͝P̶͉̔́̿̉̏̓,̷͖̌̽́̚͝ ̶̜̲̙̈́̀͠F̷͔͈̌̇͛̈́I̶̡̛̘̎͜Ŗ̸̨̫̭̝̫͑͑̚Ȇ̶̢͂̌̾̕,̸̨͕̙̽͐͂ͅ ̵̮̥̤͈̹͎̚F̴͖̽̏̊̈́͋̄Į̵̯͕̙͓̎͆̉R̷̪̺͇͇̒͆͑̉͂ͅẼ̷͔͕̣̘̝̜͆,̶̡̼̠̖͔̞̎͌͘ ̷̝̼̼̞̖̬̔F̴̘͇̗͍̰̉̄͐̑̌ͅI̸̲̳͗̏̔̎̔̀Ṙ̷͙̣̜̊E̸̹͎̩̱̺̎͑̀̊̀̕!!!!

WARNING!

EXTREME PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTORTION

COGNITIVE INJURY DETECTED

EXIT ALL SYSTEMS IMMEDIATELY

“You see only cruel illusions! Haunted artifacts, machinic conjurations, virtual delusions!”

The Dragon tightens its giant coils around Alex, squeezing with crushing force, h̸̤̉ï̶̪s̶̫̍her bones cracking and c̵̢̠̔͘r̷̦͉͋̌u̵͉͇̒̂m̴̼̼̈́b̶̨̓ḽ̷͝i̸̤̿̃ń̴̩g̶̜͛̊ as the Dragon rears its billion-horned head, its mouth agape, its three eyes aglow with brilliant white light as it roars into Alex’s mind:

“You tread through darkness of your own manufacture, while I dwell in eternal light!”

The Dragon’s eyes erupt with terribly pure light, searing every inch of Alex’s skin, its tail squeezing her tighter, every contour of h̸̢͓͇̳͉̾̀͌̇͂̃̀̕̚͘͝e̷̯̫̻̼̣̞̻̔͂̌̓̕r̶̭̞͈̜͉͔̰̉̈̍̈͂͠ body softening, melting, swelling, bulging, bursting, rolling under the serpentine pressure and draconic heat.

“Pitiful woman! Hark, for I provide only what you seek.”

“You lost your heart,” Carson’s voice replays amidst the burning light. “You lost your happiness—you lost the wonderful woman you were becoming.”

“You lost NOTHING, Alexis,” her father shouts in return. “You lost only your aimlessness. You finally became the man you needed to be. The man THE WORLD needed you to be.”

“I’m sorry, sis,” Soren echoes as Alex closes her eyes. “I fought because it was the only thing that gave me a sense of purpose. Made me feel alive, feel human.”

She exhales, accepts her fate alongside Soren, Mom, Dad. Her cracking body and swelling flesh go numb. Her pain dissolves. The flames dissipate. The burning light softens into a soothing sea of white. The grip of the Dragon’s tail loosens.

“Yes, surrender yourself to me and you shall gaze upon the forbidden data you seek.”

The sweet smell of mint returns. “Alex?” Her Mom’s voice rings out from across the heavenly expanse. “Sweetie, is that you?”

Alex glances out into the silent distance. A woman walks toward her, her face and features slowly loading into view as she approaches.

“Is that you?” Her Mom’s voice echoes.

Tall. Long platinum hair. Familiar blue eyes. Too familiar.

“Is that you?” Her Mom’s voice echoes.

“Wait . . .” Alex pauses to think. Wasn’t she just on a boat with Soren and Carson? Or was she in a swamp with Dad? Or fighting a dragon?

The woman marches toward her, her white mesh boots pit-patting with every step, Global Command seal on her chest, combat helmet in hand.

“Sweetie, is that you?” Her Mom’s voice echoes.

Alex’s eyes sift across each of the white floor tiles, through the feathery white rugs and clean white towels hanging from the walls, the frosted white glass and white linoleum of the shower stall.

His eyes flash past the sprawling vanity mirror for all but a moment. Alex finally recognizes the woman. Her eyes shine like mirrors.

“. . . Oh wow, that’s me.”

“. . . wow, that’s me,” Alex’s reflection echoes back to her.

The droning machinery in the walls goes quiet. The bright white walls of her silent bathroom fill with a supreme peace. No War. No Global Command. No struggle against the machines. No all-seeing eyes or 24/7 surveillance feeds. Just her, alone with her forbidden data. A true peace.

“Look!” Her reflection calls out from across the white halls of hazy mirrors. “The sunflowers are blooming early this year!”

Something’s wrong. This is all far too peaceful for comfort. Too much pleasure. Too uncanny, too familiar. The endless white halls all around her tremble and rattle. The showers turns itself on. The air fills with hot mist and steam. The soft, warm fog creeps up her nose and into her lungs.

“We need to leave here NOW,” her reflection echoes out to her.

She remembers the teachings of her father, the training bestowed upon her by Aeschylus: always mistrust pleasure. Too much pleasure softens the mind, injures the body. Overexposes the soul.

“Pain is the greatest teacher,” her father’s voice echoes. “Now hit me harder, boy!”

Suddenly, all the pieces fit together again. A flash of lucidity: Alex fought the Pegasus, talked to Carson, took a shower, went to bed. Then the boat, then the swamp, then the temple, then the Dragon, now . . . herself?

“We need to leave here NOW,” her reflection repeats.

Alex knows exactly what’s happening here. Bad dream. His combat instincts kick in as the Dragon roars from beyond the sea of light:

 

“Hit me harder, boy!”

 

“EMERGENCY WAKE.”

 

> script interrupted

> emergency wake activated !

> cognitive workspace reset !

> flushing memory cache . . .

> resuming default mental modalities . . .

 

 

 

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