I have left Raven and her Pet in the last place the Prophet Anomaly left us in. It looked like the Omegas, or at the very least a place very close to the Walker Nebula - Rheinland, probably? I knew of a way out of that place, south of the poorly charted map I had with me. I didn't make use of it, though. She was there, blocking the way out - or maybe I was too afraid to get close to her. She is angry that she doesn't know. It doesn't matter what knowledge she lacks, it will always set her neurons off. Maybe it was for the best.
I used the other way out of that place. Myself. Someone once told me I ought to concentrate more. Focus. And so I did - accidentally giving up control just after I set off the Hyperspace Matrix. There was a bright flash of light that pulled me in. I was then dropped...nowhere, but I don't think it was me who pulled off that feat. Everything was blank for a while. I saw him laying on the floor again...that freak Raven called "The Watcher", whispering in his ear. Tempting him - me. Its words still echoed in my head after I woke up. A cacophony of voices offering their wicked "advices" calmly. And then silence.
The emptiness around me was stressing at first. I could not see anything. The green fog made sure of it. As time went on I had found out that nothing was going to come after me. No radiation or enemies that would make the adrenaline flow through my veins once more.
There was only Its laughter. Mocking me for the failure that I am. Mocking me for my mistakes - ours. Amusing itself at the sight of a fractured human clinging to life by the cancerous emotions of fear and desperation.
Vincent felt the joy of meeting someone new. The thrill of discovering something that didn't exist before. But what was I given instead? Wrath that pushed me to do unspeakable things. Hate towards others based on fabricated memories. Two sides of the same coin. And just when Its many voices stopped having fun at my expense, they started spewing their own twisted view on us. On me.
Wrath - because that is what you were made for. To spread mayhem upon anyone you meet. A gun with a mockery of a soul running amok, laying waste behind itself.
Every gun requires a ... I could not understand what it spoke after. Garbled noises barely resembling words, but I recognized the hate that emanated from them.
Hours passed. I shut that freak away to have some quiet. Of course, I never could afford that luxury. I killed off the engines to conserve fuel. I didn't know for how long would I be stuck in this place. Hours? Days? I took off my seatbelt and leaned forward, scratching the front of my visage. The face that covers the person that I am. I am the embodiment of insanity to anyone Revenant has ever touched. Sometimes I would wonder if I was the one to have something against her first or if she did. Her compliments to me always end up eventually in a singular sentence.
You're a monster.
Maybe I am...but what would that make you, Raven? No saint, that's what. That's...what I would tell her many times. But she always saw her innocence, lacking any guilt in her actions. And that just...that just -
Odd place you've chosen. Couldn't you have picked a more ehm. Sunny place? You know...we're pale as f*ck but we don't have to go all albino.
That prick was listening the entire time by the looks of it. Crouched with his back leaned against the cockpit glass. He made do with what little space there was. Still wearing that stinking jacket he used to have before...before I decided to come along. His eyes were bright as ever - he might've snuffed it, but that optimism didn't. He looked up to me as if I was someone worth interacting with. After everything I've done. There was no point to hide my thoughts. "My" thoughts...'course they're not mine. They're ours.
You know, you've got some nerve. Why don't you go back in my head and stay quiet a little longer while I get ourselves to safety?
Maybe my tone wasn't as pleasing to the ear as I initially thought. Nobody could blame me for it, though. Everyone else would call me insane - again - for talking to the cockpit glass, if they could see me. Although, part of me really did want to have someone to talk to other than the sociopath in my head.
Right! Right...l-look, I'm sorry. I was just trying to raise the spirits here, Jesus. Besides, there are few other things we can talk about in this place - which is virtually nowhere. I squint my eyes at him behind the helmet in confusion. The second I open up my lips to respond, he continues. Like the whole Ordeal we've been through. Me in my time, and you in...well, yours. And let me tell you we really had it rough. There is no reason to make it harder, though.
I answered the same way one would expect. I didn't know what or where he wanted to go with that statement. This whole "ordeal" was nothing short of a disaster, but it was at least close to being over.
What are you suggesting? That I open up shop in some backwater system and just do "science"? I don't have a PhD in xenobiology or xenoarchaeology.
I was pretty blunt with my words, to be fair. There wasn't much to go on considering my reputation within the Houses. It wouldn't matter where I'd go. I gave everyone a reason to point fingers at me and shoot.
First off, you're me. You have to know something about aliens! Second, I actually thought about everything that happened between you and Raven's...friends, let's call them for once? Not pets. Friends. he knew I was going to call them that way. Either I've started to be quite predictable, or he can read my mind. Both of them would be reasonably possible. We've been through a lot. And knowing that one of us might bite the dust in the end is really unnerving, don't you think?
I nodded, supporting my head against my right shoulder as I leaned back on the chair, stretching a bit as I did. We continued the conversation as normal. There was nothing I could do anyway. Hitting him would mean nothing anyway.
All I could do was listen, and that is what I did. Not like there was anything else to do given the circumstances. In this place, I had no map to speak of or knowledge to navigate an empty shell of a System. Would it even be considered a system if there was nothing to be seen in the first place? Not even a sun?
Our conversation lasted for hours with pauses between them. What should we do next? How are we going to end this Journey? I was no stranger to beating near-impossible odds. At times it felt like my specialty...but all of this. The Watcher, Harbinger and Sentinels all wanting something out of Sirius? Maybe I once said that I don't give two rats about humanity and what will happen, but now I've come to realize that there's still something to fight for. Someone to fight for.
Section 8 seemed to be fond of my apathy towards doing anything now. Both of us agreed that they need to bite the dust eventually. Especially after what Raven said. Vatan pulled the trigger on us, and Section 8 was the gun. The name didn't ring a bell to me, but Vincent was concerned. Or...I am concerned. As for what came after this topic? I couldn't decide if I felt disdain or a sense or understanding towards -- well, myself.
He suggested - for the third time (...I think?) - that we tried to work together with Raven. And I've told him that it isn't the time yet. If we did that, everything I've built to reach this moment would crumble into nothingness. We've already chosen a side. And that is the side that fights against whatever Raven is doing. Truth is, he isn't half wrong. I've been feeling a bit played as of late. Something just wasnt't right with how things have been going. The blackouts, the so called "Witch Hunts". Things were never really black and white as I've seen them until recently.
I hope we come to an agreement soon. Supplies have been going rather low for my own comfort. "Eyes" started glance back at me through the thick nebula. At first just two, or three. Now there's a dozen.
I'm back home. The home I've built on Planet Manhattan (bought, actually). A private place to hold my beloved Valkyrie. A mansion...made in the most perfect way (in every way) there is. Beautifully furnished in a rustic design that takes me back to my humble beginnings. His humble beginnings. Everything is so quiet - no voices, no rush, no need to throw myself in the face of danger over and over again over scraps in order to achieve an almost impossible task. I'm leaned against my other half. The missing half of my heart. Despite everything that took place. The rocky road we've been through and the awkward times we've talked. Yeah, we're here now. No more running involved. I know who I am and she knows, too. Who I am, who I...used to be. She looks back at me. Her eyes like two crystals. A smile to brighten my own gloomy face.
She's my light.
In the blink of an eye her smile flattens. She leaves my side and enters the living room. Seems weird, is all...we watch from the balcony as the sun settles, and then she leaves. I wait for her. Complete silence. Minutes pass. I grow restless, almost nervous. I shrug it off and speak her name. There is no answer. I stop leaning on the balcony and enter the living room. I take a left turn just around the corner to see nothing. She's not there. Matter of fact, nothing is there. Everything's gone as if it never existed in the first place. I turn around. I see nothing. Everything disappears.
It all comes back to me now.
To me, years passed. And they did. By now I've lived lifetimes in just a few months. This was just another one of them. Perfection given shape within the realm of my mind as I drift asleep. She's not real, my rest isn't real and - all of it gone in the blink of an eye. My eyes open and...he's looking back at me. Taunting me with his eyes, almost. He jokes about my predicament. Of course he does.
You fell asleep again. Were it not for that daunting helmet I would say you even smiled."
My heart's burning. Of course I'm angry again. Why would I be anything else other than an angry freak? I should already be ignoring those jests. It ain't the first time he does them.
I straighten myself on the pilot seat. I think I was drooling behind the breathing apparatus, but I could not be bothered to check. Two clicks - I fastened the safety belts. There was only green smog surrounding my ship, and the navigation systems were all scrambled, regurgitating something about "spatial impossibility", "linear continuity invalid" and "arithmetical equations exceed solvable parameters". There were other, weirder gibberish paragraphs the console spat out. These were only the ones that I could pronounce with a clear voice - and remember.
I boot my ship's engines. Let them hum for a while. Warm up and everything. I didn't want to risk (a lot) in trying to find a way out of this place out of sheer recklessness. While that happened, I still had him watching me from the corner of the cockpit. Sometimes there, sometimes just floating outside, refusing to break eye contact. A neutral face with no expression. Was this another, poor joke? Who cracks up laughing first or something?
Moments like these make me wish I just flew ahead with full throttle.
I made it out of that accursed place. Of course, I had to overcharge my ship's hyperspace matrix and burst a vein or something to do that. I can't exactly explain myself how everything worked. Just...close your eyes. Imagine yourself somewhere and concentrate enough to lock away any outside distraction. It felt like...what? Sensory deprivation? There was no sound, no visual input. I simply found myself at the edges of Omicron Alpha. It's how I traveled before in other worlds. Desolate places that must've seen better days before the Sentinels decided to visit.
Moments like these make me think about cause and effect. What if Vincent never knew of the Sentinels? What would happen then? Who'd take the spotlight in his stead? Raven? That kid, Laz? Probably the latter. Never really liked him, but he's got potential. Maybe if I prod him enough he'll realize it, too. I should be careful on that regard, though. Don't want him to turn instead into -- ...well. Me, for instance. Of course, this begs the question of who am I really? Trivial questions like these become an annoyance over time, because the second you realize who you are, everyone comes rushing towards you. Makes you repeat like a broken record.
Thankfully, I have enough freedom to avoid those questions, even if I am the one that asks. There are much more important matters to attend than my own 'spiritual improvement'.
I need to find The Harbinger. Put an end to that one. Or seek 'enlightenment'. I'll have to make a choice, but I don't know if I have the strength to do either after all He's done.