The Garden

[The_Godslayer]

System: ▓▝▝▝ UNKNOWN SYSTEM ▓ ▓ ▓
Location: - tt-rr-321561--▝▁ ▁ ▁ ▁▝ UNKNOWN PLANETOID SURFACE

▁ ▁ ▁ ▁ - lb - 88 - 14 - 7C - 04 - ▁ ▁ ▁ ▁

He'd done it. Before The Gardener, a glistening red fruit hung from his tree. There were complications, of course. He'd learned that both Auxo and Order pilots explode when captured. Both Auxo and Order pilots had a severe number of robots in their ranks, and robots had no lives to harvest. Both Auxo and Order hunted his kind for technology, and lied to others and themselves about it being for safety. Auxo and Order had very few differences, he mused. They even share a blood-feud with the Core. And Outcasts. They weren't fully human anymore, and, he reasoned, that is why the fate of death is far removed for them. But there are some who chose to be human. They fed the tree well. Long and storied lives, plenty to look back on and judge.

He let his amusement go to instead admire his work. The Fruit of Eden. It looked like a ruby covered in black veins. A frigid wind blew through the cave as he began approaching the tree, sending crimson petals past him. The air was thick with psychic energy, energy he pushed through as he continued. Red wisps materialized on his skin and blew away in the wind. Every step was more difficult, and the air seemed like water, and then tar as he marched. And the voices. The screams of nearly a million human souls trapped in eternal retrospect. Distilled into their purest result, and packed into a single space. He looked up at the fruit, and then reached towards it. Psychic energy laced with a hatred as pure and potent as sunlight rushed against him like a waterfall, and still he reached up into it. Five blade-like fingers closed around the fruit. The screams were clear, they were begging him to stop, to reconsider, to have some humanity.

And the stem snapped.

The voices ceased instantly. The energy was gone. There was silence, broken only by the rustle of the flowers in the wind. He looked in his hand, and beheld the fruits of his labors. The Fruit of Eden. It's black veins now pulsed with a heartbeat, and the red flesh seemed to be aflame with the power that wafted from it. This was the key. With this, he would give the Light what they lacked. They simulated emotions. They communicated with emotions. But this would let them feel emotions. This fruit, the first of many if he had his way, would correct the only flaw he saw in the Light.

And the one he would give it to would be the goddess of his own making. All that is human would know Death's tender embrace.

"Now, to whom shall I gloat my successes to first?"

▝▝▝▁ ▓▓▓▓▓

.͈̤̺̼ͣͭ͞҉̘̀ͫ̉.͎̬ͦ̔ͧ̍̾̃̍̇ͣ͝.͕̺̰̘ͧ̏ͥͬ̃.̪͙͕.͏̖͉.̴̯̤̭̟̍ͣ̄.̩̩͖͙̻͓̞̏ͨ̈́͋͒͂͆̃͛͛͟.̙̭̳́̂ͤ̀͘.̲͇̹ͩ̾̆ͨ̀ͫ͘͞.̘͕̮̟̉ͯ̃̒ͮͩ̂͘̚͜.ͅ҉͗.̵̣͕̄.̷̶̩̰̮͖̹̍ͮ̅ͨͤ́̉̎̇ͨ̍.̵̡̦̓̉ͬͅ.̸̬̞͋͂͑ͭͤ̑.̱̉͟.͏̛̳̺̟.̷̝ͩ͛.̜͍̏̒͌͗͢.̪̠̙̩̥̟͑ͬ̑̀́ͭ̾̀--+̸̸̴̣̠̠͍̦̫͂̓͗̐ͨͭ͘+̴̧̻̰̦̯́͊͒͗͌̐ͥͩ̐ͭ̔͟͞+̜̻͙̪̞ͥ̓ͯ̇̀͜͡͝͞+̫+͚̟̝͔̠̙̗̤͛̅̉̿͒̓ͬ͊́̚-̵̘̳̻̫̜̆ͥͯ̏͆̍͝͏̓-͕̰ͬ͂͛-̸̧̯̮̣̙͒ͣͧ̀͗҉̷͉̳̀ͣ̂ͪ͠-҉͓-̮̩̰̪͙̹̇ͪ̆̄͂̈ͧ́́̐́͘--▄▀▀▀

---

I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.

"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"