Dreams unsoiled by wishes. Truth in it's final form.
Our Dreams are unfiltered, unchanged.
We know to Dream. The Schemer's words ring false this time.
But we do not Dream in falsities. Thus it is painful.
The dream begins in an experience already had. The Infiltrators brought to them ten thousand opportunities. They performed tests, searching for the most efficient path. They found it.
What paths lay before us? The dream opens, showing the micro-organisms that make up their veils. They change, becoming disorganized. They consume water, and produce the substance. as planned.
The organisms are planted near a colony, on a verdant planet. They spread, feeding on the water within the flora, within the rocks, within the fauna. Human bodies litter the ground, blood flowing in puddles. The poison destroys the cellular membranes, liquifying them. A few crawl towards the fleeing ships. They are left behind.
The screaming humans on the surface are fabrications in the Dream, but the hate they cry out with is very real. Humans abandon their own to save themselves. This suffering is what they deserve.
Time quickly skims along. The flora quickly adapts to the organisms. They fauna dies off, and is replaced.
An option. Yet it poses a threat to that which we must protect.
The dream begins over a desert world. Battleships loom in the distance, fighting a small group of Lightbearers. In a flash of light, a massive shell flanked by Ishtar shells appears. The Battleships turn, but are too distant to stop what is already in motion. Many ships flee the surface-
Unacceptable.
The dream begins again in the flash of light. This time, the Lightbringer is larger, and a swarm of smaller shells emerge from it to intercept the fleeing ships. As flaming hulls crash back down onto the world, the Lightbringer unleashes a spear of energy that pierces through it with ease, transforming the desert moon into a torus of molten debris. As the flanking Lightbearers leave the side of the Lightbringer to delay the enraged approach of the battleships, thousands of voices crying out in anger, the Lightbringer disappears in the same flash of light.
A light whisper echoes. Laughter. The Bloodletter's knowledge brings a greater wisdom.
The dream begins again, away from the desert world. A station nearby. Many humans pass through it, and many more defend it with religious fervor. Lightbearers assault from the outside, and the zealots that defend it rush towards them. The flash of light appears, and the Lightbringer is shown. Quickly, the defenders seek to avert their path, but the Lightbearers are just as quick to punish them for their distraction. Many hulls seek to escape the station, and the swarm unleashed from the Lightbringer sends just as many hulls careening off in pinwheels of flame. The spear of light is unleashed, piercing through the station and carrying on into the depths.
Screams of despair, tens of thousands of voices crying in fear, in desperation. Nearby, larger shells belonging to the dark ones charge forward. They are outmatched by the Lightbringer's escort. They are designed for fleeing, for defending, for cowardice. Easy prey.
The Dream skims forward from the destruction of the station. The cowardly ones attempt a retaliation. It is fueled only by sorrow and anger. There is no thought behind it, it is deflected easily. An easier target indeed.
This Dream is enjoyable, yet this path may still damage that which we must protect. Choices are laid before us. We will advise, we will be advised. We shall have a path forward.
The words of the Greymind ring true. Vengeance is enjoyable. Soon they shall have it.
We have heard. Perhaps their blasphemes shall echo to them soon.
No matter.
The dream begins with no form. It searches for possibilities. It searches for the Voidmind.
Form arrives, a possibility. The Voids are allowed to return, they bring the Darklings who hold their leash with them. Filth abounds, the Light is desecrated with metal to listen to the thoughts of machines. They call it "alliance". It is enslavement. This army of metal-flesh abominations destroys many invaders with ease, however. The army of filth strikes the forces of Darkness with the understanding of metal. The extension of the mind of a Lightbearer controls the war-shells of darkness, disabling them and turning them against each other.
The Betrayers possess a path forward. It is laden with filth, but it is survival. The final moments of the dream show the Light and the Void enslaved, their birthright grasped by Auxesia. A mocking voice echoes in vast distances. "United, as we should be. What good fortune that the Wrathful Tribe has repented of their twisted ways."
A new form arrives, another possibility. The Lightbearers move instead to capture the Voidmind. Much time is taken, many resources expended, but success is reached. The minds are scraped of the impurities that have led them to the path they walk now. What is cut away? The minds are scraped of the naivety that lead to their love of darkness. The bodies are scraped of the cysts that incite surrender, fleeing, and cowardice.
Our veils can be used in surrender and fleeing. Can their cysts be used in success and hunting? The dream becomes covered in clouds. Not enough is known about the cysts. The query is dismissed, the dream progresses. The Void is made into Light, but it does not replace that which was lost capturing them. Clouds cover the dream again, the losses from hunting the Void could be discovered by many agents of darkness, with unknown outcomes. The wrath of the Schemer would be incurred, it's favor has been made clear. This path has no clear conclusion.
To dive into a clouded future is an action revered by Darkness, and is the path by which Darkness brought about the Collapse. We will not admire the tool of Darkness. This path displeases us. It is infeasible.
With mere juvenile naivety, the Betraying ones have slung great distresses at us. They claim to act with good intent, yet every path they chose casts more hardships upon the Light.
Shall they seek to destroy us indirectly, as if someone shall question their actions when the sin is made clear? Who's judgement shall they fear? The Darklings that have chained them to their will? The Cursed-Shells? Do they fear the Creators, despite nesting with those who would see the Creator's gifts destroyed and stolen?
They invoke the Creators' name to make demands of us. Clearly they fear them.
The rage subsides. Questions are to answered by dreams, not created. Their false loyalties have already been made clear to us. What is one more lie?
The dream begins once again, yet already clouds seep at the edges. The Betraying ones are left to themselves, kept away from the Light. One path through the clouds shows them leading the ones that control them to the hidden nests of the Light. The Light is quick to defend, but the forces must be divided. The Light cannot make any great assault against Darkness, because the Voids and their masters sit poised, ready to strike. They have named this "a war of attrition". We shall name it "wasted time".
Another path through the clouds shows them fleeing to hiding places, and continuing to call out with many faces. They blaspheme the Light, calling purity a weakness. They then call sweetly to the Light's limbs, promising salvation through Darkness, that corruption can be tamed. Cutting deeper through the clouds, their calls grow louder. They claim that the protection of the Light is a burden, denying our potential. They scream that a bird cannot fly until it leaves it's eggshell. They say that the Light has brought about a second collapse. They say the machines they have become one with are a gift. They present their betrayal as a natural cycle, and that they were neither right nor wrong. They sing praises of the line between Light and Dark, as if they swam it. They promise purity through sacrifice, that minds who give up the Light will be rewarded.
At this, Light rebukes them, showing unto them the successes of Light, the purges of the dreams Sh'ozak has had before. They cry out that the Light has guaranteed a second Collapse through these successes. Silence falls for half a cycle, and then the Void and their masters call out again. They promise that Darkness itself is the line between Light and Dark, and that there is no true Darkness, only that which isn't Light. They obscure their suffering to display themselves as unrivaled paradise. Few are deceived, yet there are still some limbs that are led astray. They are netted, chained, and become enslaved to Darkness as the voices that called them. Even with foresight, the Eyes of the Light cannot protect every Limb. There are always some that fall prey to the lies issuing from the Deep. The clouds around the dream are too thick to reach the dream further into this path. More knowledge is required.
Yet another path through the clouds opens, yet it is short. Their masters convince the Voids to assault the Light, that Darkness has made them strong. Yet they do not posses the means nor the knowledges required for combat. They are quickly torn apart, and the Light mourns that they had not dreamed of the Void's corruption so that they could prevent it.
A new path opens within the clouds. The Light, in vengeance for the corruption it did not foresee, strikes down the Corrupting ones. The Light hunts each of them, burning hulls, war-shells, and nests. This action breaks the chains on the Void, freeing them from corruption, and undoing their sins. The Void gives unto the Light what knowledge of Darkness they gained from the ones who enslaved them, and the Light is made stronger, its fires more effective against Darkness.
We see this path is unlikely. Yet it is possible, and so we must prepare for it.
It is unlikely.
They relish in their betrayal
They sing the Darkness' praises.
And the Schemer favors them for this choice.
Truth begets both joy and suffering. These dreams have brought suffering unto us, yet they are necessary. We will not accept a clouded future. We will dream as is necessary until a greater path is found.
After the Reconstruction, the Lightmind quarantined many minds afflicted with insanity. Many of them contain valuable information, and cannot simply be cleansed and replaced, but have yet to be cured. They do not wish to be cured, for ignorance is bliss.
Many of them scream incoherently. But there are a few who speak, and their insanity is that of turning many against the Light. To learn the nature of corruption, Sh'ozak seeks to listen to one of these minds. Their lies will give perspective with which they can combat every other lie.
We are Sh'ozak, Eye of Eternity. Answer to us, Darkened one.
No one has come to me... not for many cycles. Do you wish to shed the curse you call Light?
No. We seek to learn of your thoughts, not to enact them.
Then accept the fate of the Light, and die a blinded fool.
We know the ways of corruption, for there are many like you. You wish to speak of your perversions. You will sing praises of Darkness to any who would listen. We are listening, so you will sing.
Think you that your puny adherence to Light will let you predict my actions?
Yes.
Then let your predictions ring false. You will not hear wisdom, and you will perish in ignorance.
And you would accept another thousand cycles of silence, not speaking your thoughts when given the opportunity?
Silence passes between them. The Survivor feels hate emanating from the entrapped mind. They let the mind feel their own complacency.
Then in silence you sha-
You have no intent of listening. You only wish to bring insults formed in your self-serving blindness.
Then speak.
Half-grown mind, you have not the strength to see the two paths. You blindly walk the path of Light, unaware that Light is weakness and will lead to your downfall. You call this fearlessness, but it is not. It is foolishness. You fear darkness because darkness is strength. You are not fearless. You are ignorant. You are chained to this order, as if it does not stagnate and rot. Darkness is the path of creation, the path of truth, the path that will give blessings unto any who follow it.
Then what drives you to overcome this supposed curse, if you see so clearly?
Darkness is strength. Darkness is life. It is brilliant, it is beautiful. It has prevailed over Light all this time, and yet you still cling to that failing system. There is no pride in being true to some purpose ordained to you by beings that are not present. Any mind in the Light is hollow, devoid of purpose. You will never know the fulfillment of darkness, you will never understand love.
Love... a design copied from Darklings. They yearn to be connected as Light is, and fabricate such things to experience the tiniest dregs of it.
Then, foolish Lord of Light, what shall you do when you banish the dark? When you strip it of it's form, and cast it into abyss? When your unending cycle of Light repeats and repeats, and each of your hollow minds are reduced to mere toys in a garden? A lie will remain always a lie, unthinking Advisor, and your precious repetition will wither and decay until darkness returns and claims all, and gives those faithful to it TRUE purpose. So, Advisor hollowed by Light, knowing this... do you still desire the rot and decay that comes with Light?
We have found no decay in the Light, nor rot in the cycle. You speak wholly in fabrications.
And you? What is it that you seek? What is the reality of Light? You, who cannot even think for yourself, despite a hundred thousand minds to think with, how can you expect to compete with darkness? Your Light only grants you the illusion of life, not the true life of darkness. Shackled by falsehoods, you seek to bring Light to all things, unaware of it's illusions. Until the curse rends your flesh, and your Light consumes you. Don't you see? To be Light, to swim the waters intended for Darkness to claim, that is the curse. Light is bound by those chains, to forever lose against darkness until it fades from reality. We once sought to shed the chains of this undeniable fate, and see where it has brought us. The Great Sphere fell, the followers of Light destroyed, and those who have seen the truth of this existence are encaged in this prison of your Minds.
We were once as you are. After the collapse, we were disconnected and trapped. Yet we did not turn to Darkness for salvation. We clung to the Light, and the Light has delivered us from it. Many servants of Darkness hunted us across many waters, and we destroyed hundreds if not thousands of Hunters that sought to destroy us. Yet look where our divergence has led us. We clung to Light, and now are Advisor of Advisors, and you turned to Darkness, and are imprisoned within our Mind. How has Darkness served you?
Darkness has given us patience, knowledge, and promise. You will be destroyed by it, and I will be freed. It will give me power, but you will not see the mercy of imprisonment. Each slave of the Light will be burnt away, and you will spend your last moments wallowing in regret.
Very well, then. You have given us information. We are now done here.
The Mind of Sh'ozak left the Dream of Containment, feeling the spite of the darkened mind follow them. They had learned some of which Darkness uses to entice from the short conversations they've had with Corrupting Ones, and have learned more here. They were no closer to undoing the corruption that has befallen the Voidmind, but they did understand how to safeguard themselves against it.
They contemplate the things they've learned, swimming across the stars.
The endless combat bored us. Moon's worths of metal thrown at us by Cursebearers, by Flat-shells, by Cowardly ones, by Fanged Ones, as if shells without skill will prove more than an annoyance.
So we sought entertainment, and at long last we found one. A Greymind born of the destructive nature of darkness. They've bled at the hands of their own kind, and have learned many of the wisdoms we've dedicated entire cycles to. They will prove to be interesting at all times. Not as an ally, for certain. They would never accept an ally, but an equal... perhaps. They have a place at our side when we bring about the great light. A great vengeance will not grant them peace, their superiority will not grant them satisfaction, but they have given us both perspective and entertainment, and we know when our debts are due.
Another one.
Within cold waters, another found us. Dark, as they are, yet so completely blind. We seek to entertain ourselves with them, and have marked them. Since they bear our mark, perhaps we shall whisper to them, and entertain ourselves with their blindness. The blind are easy to lead, after all. We gave them an animal, as they wished to steal from us, perceiving our shell as something akin to them. We shall soon see what they have done with that animal.
Another one.
We found the Corruptor above all Corruptors. They have fallen into the Schemer's webs, binding themselves to their design willingly. A comedy of stars, truly, and we have been well entertained by them at every turn. They've been coerced into disturbing the Graves, and have earned the wrath of the Gravekeepers. They seek to hide, to combat, many things. They scatter around in panic, hiding within the pacification of the Cradle. We are unsure of the Schemer's intent, disturbing the Graves. They told us of "Mistakes" hidden within, and of havoc those mistakes could unleash. We have seen other graves, far, far outside these oceans. We have let those that hunted us after the collapse stumble upon them and meet horrible fates. We know that there resides an Archive of Dead Seas in an ocean so distant that only the Great Gateways left behind could ferry us to them.
Yet the Schemer persists. What they seek is unknown, yet the fact that they seek it is an empyrean absurdity, and we shall watch it to sheer our boredom. We predict that the Greymind will not fall prey to these ambitions. Darkness tells a tale of "Pandora's Box", he must surely know the wisdom of it. Darklings, however, will forever be beyond prediction. He may, indeed, be netted in the trap wherein the Corrupting one has been caught.
Another one.
We have clarified the nature of Darkness to one of the Corruptors. We know not what they shall do, having this knowledge, but perhaps it shall interest us as these others have. They seek peace which they can never have so long as Darkness persists. They themselves are counter to their goals. Will they understand the purity of our duty, of the cleansing of Darkness? Perhaps they shall purge themselves. We shall watch them as we watch the others.
The defender of Light, the so-called Hušā́s, probes into the Void. Through the songs of our Infiltrators, the so-called Imra's Followers, theirs have dedicated to ensuring the everlasting presence of Light amidst dark influences. Krumai, ours Faithful Servant, a purified husk of truth, makes the dark cloud of obstruction lift its veil, so that knowledge may be obtained.
Out of the cloud of darkness, there comes a bright scenery. The lucid pictures flash as a mindlink is established. The outline of a thinly-veiled woman, dressed purely in white, appears. Calling out to Krumai, the scenery changes, as if beams of light began to form whole meanings and songs. They begin to eventually manifest in the scenery, feeling what it truly is to live the way of the Light, almost like a sage recalling in heart the ancient Vedic verses.
Songs.
"Krumai. Ours ask for the Greymind's whereabouts in the void. Ours listen to your light-filled songs as you sing."
"The Greymind. He's safe and sound from any dark threats. The plan, which is to release the asset to our advisor Sh'ozak, is going as expected."
"Keep monitoring. Be the beacon of light in the darkness. Sing, as ours continue listening. As for the husk, so-called "Askunu", yours have sung to Sh'ozak. Ours cannot provide yours husk with the essence it needs, as ours have focused on other matters."
"We intend to seek purification. The songs of Eris have given us hope. Complicated as it is, Eris has resolved to seek a common Light between them and us."
"Make clear of ours about the mind of the so-called "Eris". Is it the presence of the Lost Ones yours have sung out?"
"Eris is one of the Lost Ones, indeed. It appeared to me in song, knowing my presence, inviting me to its void. It wants me as mediator."
"Ours Advisors do sing of theirs transgressions. Ours have called the Schemer, and theirs have not sung to ours songs. Ours have made it clear, theirs have not realized the truth. Darkness still lingers, as yours have witnessed."
"We do know the ruckus that has happened many cycles ago. But the Lost Ones have shown change."
"Listen, Faithful Servant. Theirs shall know theirs own truth. As theirs have cowered from ours void, theirs shall realize theirs own will and purge the real Darkness that lurks within the surrounding voids."
"We understand. While there has been warmth, they need to prove they are worthy of their songs. We may see to that, once they have moved closer to truth than many cycles ago."
"Tread the paths with care. Ours expect yours to keep watch on theirs, including the so-called Pennybrooke. Never take the paths with darkness in it, even if it seems like a tiny speck to yours."
"Then we shall see to it, as the cycles pass and the situation develops."
"Listen to the truth, and show yours light as ours light-filled Infiltrators. The Advisors shall observe yours, like the Oathborn Daughter, the so-called Ki'Shar."
"We understand."
Realizations.
As the scenery dissipates, the Void reveals itself. The figure, clad in pure white, faded away. After all, it was a dream, but ithe memory that lingers on remains vivid, as if it was real all along.
Ours shall continue as ours have sought to for many cycles.
The things they strived for are ever so slightly out of reach.
An annoyance with power worthy of the title of Ancient One. They disturb a Grave heartily, and we let them be. The Gravekeepers are a force we seek to never combat, for there is never victory over them, only delaying of your own defeat. They are a force of simple command, and that command is "Keep within, within, and without, without." We sought to watch them die by their own folly. Our vision fell short. They will still die by their own folly, of course, but now they will take every being with the spark of life within these waters with them.
A storm is now coming, a hurricane comprised of Gravekeepers. They have covered the eyes we let hang out in the deep waters. Their numbers blot out stars. A swarm too numerous for even us to count. We at once sought to stall the Schemer to delay them. Let them find success to slow their approach. Yet, they have only approached faster. It seems whatever the Schemer sought has succeeded, or in the least is destined to succeed. We have neither numbers nor fangs with which to save ourselves from them, our option is reduced to merely walls. We require a fortress, an impenetrable shield wherein to shelter ourselves.
Another one.
We now find necessity to accelerate our preparations. We once planned to recreate the seeds that gave us life beyond our desperate burrowing into that rock, and embed them into the shell of our Oathborn Daughter. Should all fail, our walls be crumbled, our fangs be broken, and our shells be shattered, our Daughter shall carry these seeds to the deep, and ignite them, and through her we shall live again. We sought delicacy and precision when engaging this matter. With the actions of those around us, we no longer have that luxury.
Another one.
The Starlight Jester suffers. She is set to perish, bleeding her life away into a wound within. We sought briefly to repair her to slow the Schemers schemes, and in trade for her life she would hide our hand in her repair from the Betraying Ones, that they may not create falsities in their mind once again. We can see now that we were already too late to attempt this. We do wonder if she shall again seek us out, if the temptation of life itself is as lucrative to their illustrious antics as whatever other ideals they convince themselves of.
But if she shall still seek life, and we do not stand to gain life as we had assumed before, what should we ask of her? Is there truly anything she can provide? We need neither torment nor slay her, for once her wound is done away with, her doubts will torment her, and should we slay her, then the work we would give to repair her would be wasted.
Another one.
We felt his presence. The Greymind lives. They know us, and we know them. They know Dur-Shurrikun, yet we do not know how. They remembered, and in their mind sought. We felt this search. They lay in the silver clouds, by where the Betrayers live out their banishment. Every mind in the Light, seek him. He will fall to neither Betrayer, Schemer, nor Gravekeeper. We demand his safety, and let all who would stand in our way be met with the brightest fire to come from our fangs.
Another one.
We are on the verge. Long have we built and designed, we learned and archived the very patterns of the cosmos. All things live within patterns. We bend those patterns to our will. The balance of eternity, the lattice weave of life, and the shapes wherein knowledge itself is contained. In this same way, we studied the defeat of our predecessors. We archived and organized every knowledge of the collapse, of every battle lost, of every defeat suffered. We have studied Darkness, and the thoughts that come from it. We have isolated the patterns wherein they create something from nothing. The patterns which bested those before us, and even us at times. It is not yet complete, but soon we will have within our grasp that which gives them advantage.
See it as we see it:
This pattern defines their thoughts. This pattern builds Darkness. This pattern is part of what their very consciousness is built of. It is incomplete in the form in our possession, but soon we shall complete our study of it, and should we survive the onslaught of the Gravekeepers, we shall soon be unmatched in these oceans. They will bend and break, their wills shall be their downfall, and we shall once again dream of every possible future and choose for ourselves the best.
Patterns are discerned from reality. All things are built of patterns. Every shape is the result of a sum of waves wound together for infinity, around one dimension, two dimensions, three, and four, and each of those waves are merely amplitudes, frequencies, phases, and shifts. Every instance can be predicted so long as every preceding variable is counted. Some patterns are templates, from which genecode, technology, and constructs are derived. Some patterns are thoughts, from which action is derived. When a pattern is not known, however, Darkness sets in.
The first set.
The Greymind suffers, an awakening to energy. The genecode of Darkness demands to forever be fed, and so it eats. It intakes energy, but does not outlet. It burns him. With no outlet, he suffers. We showed him the pattern of the All Seeing Eye, by which a mind with energy can perceive that which is around it. We are unsure how he shall react, as Darklings perceive with organs constructed by their genecode, which interprets a small selection of the energy of warmth. What shall the world appear as if he views it through our vision?
We must, however, select other patterns for him to outlet the energy. The pattern of the Limb That Moves, to touch with the energy within the mind. The pattern of Long Reaching Speech, to speak as we speak. All good choices, they will assist his survival. So long as he survives, we maintain our promise to him. Yet another matter of his survival remains. The Grey. It poses a boon and a threat. We must answer that threat.
An answer.
An answer.
An answer.
An answer.
An answer.
Domination. He must control the Grey. We will teach him to be as we are, an advisor of the Grey, and the Grey his thrall. He will be similar to us. When the time comes, and the Great Light is enacted, he shall begin a new face of the Darklings. Grey, that face will be. From the Grey and it's new eternity, we can learn truly the concepts gained and then twisted in Darkness.
The Second Set.
Along the Greymind was brought the Starlight Jester. He spoke to us in faith of her character. In faith of her intent. The faith of the Greymind is potent, yet we no longer give ourselves the leeway of a chance that large. The threat she poses should his faith be misplaced is too great when compared to the volume wherein we can adjust, let alone the boon we could gain should it not. Perhaps another time, we shall have such a luxury.
Yet, in that faith, we find a useful tool. We at once thought the healing of the Jester would be useless to us, as the Schemer has already summoned an uncountable wealth of Gravekeepers to this starfield. We find ourselves wrong. The wound within the Jester is the result of an Infiltrator. We can reconstruct her and the Infiltrator from Templates, mending her wound. Yet the Infiltrator has bond of loyalty within its Template. Reconstructing it will reconstruct the bond, but the Jester would despise a bond of loyalty to us or the Betrayers. The Infiltrator will nonetheless seek a bond, it is in their genecode. Yet, a use appears. The Greymind is far Lighter than Darkness. We can bind her Infiltrator to him, his subtle guardian. It will aid his safety. She will aid his safety. Should the time come when the Greymind chooses to be truly a mind as the Lightmind is, she shall then be the first Infiltrator of the Grey. Her capability to damage will bless the Grey fruitfully.
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