《The Call of the Void》2. We Aren't Getting Any Older
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My epiphany wasn’t a rebranding of self, instead it was a discovery of who I truly was. I was the Amos, the Void carrier, progenitor, and I had always been that. With my rediscovering of my identity, I had also rediscovered my purpose in life. My newfound lease on life was meant to be shared with the universe. With the creation of the universe Yahweh forgot about the Void, the Void had tolerated the universe’s presence within its belly, it had let it grow within it, but it had now realized its mistake. Existence was pain, and it was only right that I, the Void remove this pain from the living. Let them be freed from this mortal chain, dragging them down into an endless cycle of suffering. There is no heaven, there is no greater hell then living, and this I realized now. It was time to break off from the Void, if only to reunite the world with this freedom.
I, Amos knew that the world would reject my views at first, but the Void knew, just as I knew that they would soon come to embrace this new freedom. They would soon return to the Void, heading back to where they came from. It would be a joyous occasion, and soon there would be new heralds, new explorers looking to reunite those lost souls back with the void. I was simply a shepherd who will reunite his flock with the Void.
With this realization, the cooling void was blasted away, replaced with a burning, blinding light, leaving me with only the Void held secretly within my heart.
As the light faded, and I slowly regained my sight the noise around me began to filter back in. I could once again hear the steady sound of the puppet pushing me along the street, the portal long behind me, and the sound of travelers and merchants hurrying either towards the main portal, located in the main square of the fortress, or away, into the lands beyond the border.
Incidentally, the hidden portal used by Adam was located deep within the fortress of Aachen. Aachen was a fortress guarding the southernmost border of Uruk. This border was especially important to the Uruk empire, as it didn’t border another country, but instead a vast wilderness. Within these wildernesses lived terrifying monsters, that could crush lesser kingdoms without a second thought—or so the story held. But, at the same time these wildernesses were important to the economy of Uruk, as the monsters that lived on the outer edges of the wilderness were an important source of food and materials for the rest of the kingdom. Also, plants that helped with the cultivation of magical talents grew rampant in the chaos of the wilderness, as these could be used in offerings to appease many lesser deities which granted their mystical powers unto this mortal world.
Ironically many of the peasants and poor folk who toiled and suffered to gain these resources for the kingdom, couldn’t use these resources to enrich themselves, as none of them knew or would ever know the sacred rituals to pray to these gods. Soon, I will free these people and bring them into the void, and then they too can gain true freedom, freedom from poverty, freedom from class structure, free from everything plaguing them, free from thought itself.
“Sir, we have arrived at our destination, would you like for me to ring the doorbell?”
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With the question from the puppet startling my internal dialogue, I turn my head to glance back at the puppet. And with a small nod of the eyes, I soon see it smoothly walk past me to ring the doorbell before settling back behind my wheelchair. I had been deemed too weak to walk, and thus the wheelchair and the clerical puppet. The house in front of me looked like a house that had been killed, left to rot in a grave and then some poor house necromancer came around and resurrected it from the ground. There was a large weeping willow behind the house, its vines draping over the top of the house. There was moss growing all over the sides of the house, and every window had metal bars blocking the windows in. I could see the faint silhouettes of people within the windows, which gave it an even more eerie presence. This street was located quite a way behind the fortress, making it the safest from monsters, but the least safe from murderers. It seemed that there were very few patrols from the fortress that went this far back from the fortress. The houses of this street all looked like this one, dilapidated messes. It was also conveniently located a step and a half away from what looked like a simple graveyard.
After waiting for a couple of seconds, the door opens, and my vision is soon filled by a suit of armor. It was dull grey in color, but almost perfectly smooth. The helmet had a narrow visor that was blacked out, obscuring the eyes that laid behind. On the right rounded pauldron of the armor laid a single hexagram, with a dark red circle around it. The person in the suit just looked at me for a couple of seconds,
With a gravely voice stated “Good day”
And with that, they simply walked away, heading down the road of houses and towards the fortress which I had just come from.
Stepping out from the depths of the house, a man steps outside, spits onto the side of the walk, glances at me through his one good eye, the other swollen shut with puss leaking from it. He opens his mouth to start talking, but then starts coughing uncontrollably, blood and spittle flying from his mouth and unto the ground.
I signal to my clerical puppet to help, but as it only knows basic medical treatments all it could do was waddle over to him and start patting his back in an almost comforting fashion. There were many kinds of puppets, those used as elite soldiers whose size could flatten cities, those used in the medical profession, and those who would help around the household. Mine was the last one, a clerical one, but it had shown me something I was not yet wise enough to notice. This puppet showed care towards this man, showing very human like emotions. It was generally understood in the empire and continent at large that puppets were unfeeling but could emulate human behavior. In other words, they could only pretend to be human.
When the universe was created any remaining Void was blasted out of this plane of existence, just like the Void had been pushed out of me when I exited the portal, but the Void wasn’t completely eradicated. Instead, the closer you were to the creation of the universe, the more Void “residue” was left on your body, it meant the older you were. Two things, this residue was inheritable in organics but would grow fainter the farther down the line you got, and it was only found on organics. In fact, passing hundreds of thousands of people in the fortress I could only sense a couple of presences that had this residue on them. But I had ignored it since they all belonged to puppets. At finally dawned on me, puppets were partially organic, and they were old. Very, old since the creation of the universe should have been millions of years ago. It was something strange, and something I would have to discover for myself.
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Checking back in with the very sick man, he seemed to be recovering from his coughing fit, with my puppet still standing beside him, slowly patting his back in a circling motion.
With a weak hand he waved off my puppet, who then stepped back beside me.
Wiping his mouth with a greasy hand he looked at me,
“Adam?”
I simply nod, as I was expecting to be living with relatives, but I didn’t know which relatives, I wasn’t even aware we even knew anyone on this truly godforsaken border. This man looked like no one I knew, and was covered in festering boils and hives, a truly disgusting sight. It made the presence of the knight(?) before even more confusing.
“Come with me, and leave your damn puppet outside, those unsightly things make my skin itch”
Nodding at my puppet, I slowly rise from my wheelchair, falling over in the process, but being saved by a timely hand from my puppet. It helps me struggle back to my feet, and as I slowly gain more control over my legs, I begin to stabilize myself.
“You can walk? Why in the hell were you in the wheelchair in the first place? Lazy piece of shit!”
Staring at him without blinking, I take my first steps forward in weeks, once again thinking that he was in fact not my relative, as it seemed like he had no idea about the condition I was supposedly in.
Scratching his head, almost as he had expected me to rebut him, he just simply shrugs his shoulder and steps into the house.
Following in after him, the outside looks just as bad as it does on the inside. The floorboards seem to be more moss than wood, there is countless bottles of what smells to be alcohol littered around, all empty but still reeking of the foul substance they had once contained. Looking over at him, I could see he was expertly navigating through the mess, heading towards the steps located at the back of the front room.
Stepping up onto the stairs, he looks back at me
“Are you coming? I don’t have all day?”
Slowly shambling my way through bottles, pieces of wood, and what looks to be paper, I make my way towards the back stairs.
Walking up them right behind them, I can finally hear some form of groaning happening upstairs. It sounds—and smells like there are dying people up here. Disturbed, I slowly follow behind him, walking down a short hallway lined with doors, I could see the doors were locked from the outside with a padlock. Approaching the cleanest looking doorway, he turns to look at me.
“Welcome to the sick bay, where my patients have a hundred percent mortality rate”
This comment brings a laugh to his lips, which slowly brings about a cough.
I just tilt my head to the side with a questioning look on my face.
“Don’t you speak? Wait don’t tell me my beauty has gotten you tongue tied!” Once again losing himself in a fit of laughter and coughing.
Sighing, he looks at me, “Listen kid, whatever your parents told you here is how it goes. There was a pandemic that resulted from someone consuming flesh of the undead, stupid bastards. These rows of houses were constructed to house the sick and wait for them to die. I’m basically the poor bastard who must watch you die. But yes, I was already sick with a different disease, one of the hearts.” Seemingly sobering up he continues, “I had a wife, but she left me first, once I’m gone, they promised they would look after my only daughter for me, listen kid, I’m not sure who you are or how you’re sick, but now that you’re in here you are going to die. There’s nothing you can do about it” Gesturing towards the other rooms, “These poor bastards will soon become undead themselves so they must be locked up, but they tell me you only have a couple days left, so I will do you the honor of not locking you in. But remember that if take a single step outside the front door, those damn greys will blast your ass into the next century. I never see them in action, but I always see the results understand. Going out back and staying within the fence should be fine, I think. But if you are going to keel over and die have the decency to tell me before you croak so I don’t have you stinking up my house.”
Turning around he opens the door to the tiny room that would apparently be the place I spent my last living moments. It was a small room, but at least cleaner than the rest of the house. Stepping into the room I could see it was made of a simple bed, a small wooden desk that had no char. Looking at the warden, I nod at him, but he just stares at me, almost expecting me to say something.
I awkwardly just try and shut the door, in his face, but he sticks his foot into the doorway. Looking at me, he pulls out a smooth piece of metal.
“Take this, if you need me just squeeze it twice, and I will come up to your room”
Tilting my head to show my confusion, he takes out an identical piece of metal to the one just placed in my hand and shows it too me. Squeezing it with his hand, I can feel my piece of metal buzz once, he then squeezes it twice and it buzzes twice. Looking at me, “This is a buzzer, its used by the scouts who accompany the harvesters to the wilderness. One buzz means danger, two buzzes mean it’s all clear.”
With that, he moves his foot away, letting the door shut with a resounding thud, in a weird finality.
With a raspy sigh, I sit down on my bed and take stock of my situation.
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