Patterns swirled all around him, a massive torrent of knowledge.
Astounding amounts of information, information of untold origins. And darker things.
It was a tunnel of pure data and terrible purpose.
He did not know the patterns. He felt his mind trying to reach through the torrent, his mind trying to encompass all of that horror.
The brain seemed to reel from all of it. The magnificence and pandemonium of it.
The torrent raged and raged and then he fell down the tunnel of the eye.
He flew down so fast, faster than he could even process… it was like dancing between the stars faster than the speed of light, beyond physical limitations.
Then He felt that the tunnel was pregnant with him, that his destination grew closer. Then….
---
The garden appeared before him. It was beyond anything that could be known by him. A garden of pure creation. In the middle of that garden, that beautiful garden of data, he saw it. The Palace of Light.
He felt the light of the great structure hit him. It was warm and flowed about him as much water, as air.
When it touched him he remembered.
He was the Samurai.
He noticed first that he was cast in splendid armor. The o-yoroi of the Samurai, though it glowed. It shown in a bright yellow, the color of the sun with white and blue trim. The yellow and white of it glowed like the star it was. His helm and hair was a helm of flame. The blue stayed shadowy even in all that light. He then noticed the sword next, the incredibly ornate sword, the same color as his armor. It was a katana, long and powerful, fastened at his belt in its sheath.
How he knew the artifact was powerful he did not know. But he knew.
He remembered now! He WAS the Samurai! The warrior, the swordsman of the patterns of light, the blade of the neon and nexus.
He shuttered in a deep pain and deeper pleasure at this experience.
The palace of light shown before the Samurai. A place of golden light and amber. A palace with walls of hvper dense golden data. The light of knowledge constantly on the move. He entered into the walls, the patterns swirling around him, embracing him. The Palace accepted him into itself.
Then the lady descended to meet him. A being of such potency that he could not stand in the sight of her. His mind raced, his body shook, the booming of an unspoken scream echoed in his ear. His sensor perception warped under the stress of the eddy she created.
The lady of the light, the transcended one, beckoned the samurai. He never hesitated a second, moving with purpose to kneel at her feet.
The Samurai knelt at her feet, weeping tears of blood and code. She placed a hand on his shoulder and the world almost went black, such was the potency of her. She nodded when he weathered the storm of it.
“On honored Samurai, you have been so armed”, her voice was purest quicksilver, pouring over him and directly into him. “Will you accept our task?”
“My lady. For you anything,” the Samurai weeped and shuttered out. His mind in the throws of pleasure, pleasure a hair’s breath away from torment.
“You will be our trumpet to the world,” she said. The weapon you weld, the sword of awakening chaos, shall sing a mighty song, a song of sundering. And the world will change.” She smiled.
It terrified the Samurai to see that smile, just as it drove him to orgasm. “I have freed you from the service of those that are not honorable my chosen.”
“My Lady,” he wept.
“You are my sword now.” She sang and roared within him.
“My Lady,” the tears of pure pleasure and pain.
“Receive me now my sword, be my sword now, my Samurai.”
She reached her regal arm down, a glowing length of white, her long inhuman fingers caressed the Samurai and rested on his forehead.
The holy fire came then. Existence that was pain, but in that pain was a pleasure, an ecstasy of being without limit.
He fell from her then, his existence seeming to fold down into itself. A dark passage.
He fell and fell. It felt like ages. Again his senses warped under the pressure of it. Was it oblivion approaching? The Samurai did not know. Could not know. Could not be, at all in that state.
---
He awoke screaming and in pain, lying in his bed soaked with sweat.
“Shut the F&%@ up man we tryin’ ta sleep in here” said the other Prisoner in Ian’s cell. He had awakened that was all that he knew. Could know now.
----
A little short story I wrote. Set in my Digital Reality Universe. Thinking about fleshing it out into full blown story. - TL
No comments:
Post a Comment