Divided By Zero

Prologue

Welcome Home

Gong

A battlefield…?

Fade to black

Gong

You hear the wailing of voices in pain, the sky is blue… your eyes roll back into your head

Fade to black

Gong

Who are these people? Why are you strapped to this table? So much blood… blood…

Fade to black

Gong

Your head hurts…

The smell… what is it? Death?

… your room is small, the bars are strong…

Someone is coming… your head throbs…

Fade to black

Gong

… your food tray flies up into the air along with the table, as you and those around are hurtled back…

… persons are flying through the air… no, not flying… thrown… when they hit the stone walls you are reminded of the sounds smashed fruit…

… the Men in Bronze are moving deliberately across the room, and anywhere a person – or object – stands in the way they are chopped down…

… bodies are trampled on as you run away from the Men in Bronze…

… the guards arrive, but they too are cut down.

… two guards call to you – to the ones around – “this way!” As you run towards them, the walls begin to take on a hue of orange… glowing… and then you feel the heat on your back… and the sound deafens you and you are launched…

Fade to black

Gong

It is dark out. The flames of the buildings burn bright… smoke fills the air.
“Keep your heads down” he whispers, tersely. Horses gallop by, you lift your head from the ditch, just to peek… Men in Bronze all around, speaking in a language… what is it… (have you heard it before?) “Take the point”, he whispers to his companion. “You, follow quickly… stay low… keep quiet.” He says to you. And you do.

The forest is dark, the ground soft. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking… walking? No… marching… yes marching. Marching? We’re you a soldier? Your mind drifts…

Fade to black

Gong

The two guards are talking amongst themselves. One walks deeper into the trees, and the other…

“Collect wood. We’ll make a fire. We should be far enough away. You (he points to one of your fellow travelers), there is a stream down yonder, fill these skins.”

… wild game tastes better than you remember.

“Rest, we cannot tarry long.”

… and you close your eyes…

Fade to black

Gong

… has it been four days? Or a Ten-day?

“We’re here.” He looks around. He clears his throat, “We’re here!” he says louder. And a hole opens in the space in front of him… in the nothing in front of the guardsman, a hole opened! And yet, for some reason, you aren’t surprised.

… you and the others are lead down a hallway, and a strange one at that… more like a tube than a hallway. And the doors, well, they aren’t really doors now, are they? Membranes, really…

The guards stop, talk amongst themselves again. One enters a door. Sometime, later he comes back out. “He’ll see them now” The other guard looks at you – and the others – and says, “Good luck.”

You enter the door, the room is a half-sphere… no, it isn’t, it is many small hexagons shaped to look like a half-sphere. No, no, no… it is a normal room, square… elongated rectangle… a pyramid… a great hall… a hovel… the walls are white… yellow… red… orange… brown… the shapes, the colors, even the sounds, ever changing faster and faster, before your mind adjusts…

“Gods Damn you! Stop it!” someone yells… or was it you?

The room is square, with off-white walls. A desk dominates the room. There are shelves with books, and paintings (no… not paintings… they look too real) on the wall. Papers are mounted on the wall as well, but the script is nothing you have ever seen.

… and there is man behind the desk. Bald, scarred. Blue eyes… and they pierce your soul.

“Welcome,” he says. (But you can tell he doesn’t mean it). His accent is unlike any you’ve heard before.

“Who are you?” One of your companions asks.

The bald man looks, smiles, and says “I know who I am. Do you know who you are?” (… and you realize, you aren’t sure of who you really are). His smile widens, the scars upon his head redden…

“I am Cythrael.

And …

I …

am …

a …

God.”

You blink.

Comments

Aelferic

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