My nostrils are dry and my head feels like its about to split open. My nerves struggle to confer with my brain. As a result, I am deprived of the full experience of the pain of my disease. A small victory for me in the midst of this banal life.

My mind cannot linger on minutia though.

I am staring out at the star. A benign red giant. A mother to a very affluent planet.

The planet itself is beautiful. An intelligent species, a superb culture, a staggering progression. But in spite of its beauty, I do not think about the planet.

My thoughts remain on its lone red giant.

And I ponder. Creation, death, evolution, life, reality, programming, destruction, existence? God.


I couldn’t care less about God at this point. After all, what is She? if not another variable in this continuum. This immortality. This endless cycle of space-time. Or should it be life-death?

The red super-giant still has .9 billion years before the big light show.

My thoughts depart from stellar life cycles just moments before I destroy the lone planet.

The next planet orbits a super-massive black hole. This time, I sit down and watch an episode of “I love lucy” as I set the planet to implode.

944 million lives being extinguished in the backdrop of a black and white sitcom.

At first, I was creative. I would erupt volcanoes, fire meteors, unleash deadly viruses, generate civil unrest which would then escalate to carnage.

But later, (or sooner. Time really means nothing to me at this point.) I would just blow the planets up.

This was also fun at first, but ennui just turned BOOM! to BOOM to boom.

The next one was a binary star system. Perhaps my recent reveries had made me sentimental. I got a little creative and generated gravitational imbalances that caused the stars to spiral into each other and explode, destroying the seven planets that needed them for sustenance.

This act of rebellion against routine was pathetic and I felt more mundane after it.

The inhabitants of this universe, this stored information, their intelligences have concluded that the end is near.

They are quite right, but for the wrong reasons.

I don’t blame them. The truth is severely overrated. They are better of in their confusion.

What would they believe? That they were created for a purpose? That existence isn’t void of meaning? That love and loss and despair are aspects of reality? That they have to progress not just as a marker of time but as a marker of hope? That their reality is real?

Ignorance is bliss.

Even in their uncertainty and fear, ignorance is bliss. Their mentality is so dependent on their being right that if alternatives are explored, insanity will follow.

I know the truth however. And it isn’t blissful, or wrathful. Its just truth.

The truth?

Its destiny.

What would they do with the truth? They believe that their “science” is a search for the truth? No. Its simply an indulgence of their own self-importance.

I know the truth however.

The truth that I destroy planets not because I am God, or war, or natural disaster as they would believe.

The truth that this “existence” boils down to a few googol lines of code and that I am simply a computer viruses, deleting sections of the code, sections which end up being interpreted as planets. Deletions which end up being interpreted as explosions.

If they knew the truth, they would be compelled to ask, “Whose hard disk?” But by virtue of experience, I know that question would only lead to this answer, “Whose hard disk?”

Its just destiny, the ignorant will ponder. The knowledgeable would know.

And I would destroy.

BOOM! to BOOM to boom.





The Turning

He sits quietly and sips some tea, under a tree. The earth turns below his feet, the clouds drift by like great white beasts. The sun is in his face.

All is quiet.

Once, the world was his. He was the master of an art which shifted the world and his mastery was sought, long and hard, by those who wished to rule.

With his talent and his tools, he cast the world in red.

He did not care for the reasons for which they came: Love, duty, honor.

Some tried to stand over him, most often they sank to their knees. Of those who came, those in quest of the world made him laugh the most. In so far as there was at least one of such men in the world, he would play his instrument, he would sing his song.

He would paint the sky red.

Oh, they hated him, envied him, loved him, but these emotions of theirs were irrelevant. They all stood pitifully in the shadow of the one true emotion. The one true emotion by which he conquered. The one true emotion by which he held the world.


Whatever else they felt did not matter in so far as, primarily, they feared him. And it was a primal fear too for he was a beast cast in the shape of a man.

It was not so much about his heart as it was about fear.

But, nature took its course. In as much as they feared him, the world still turned, life went on.

Eventually they dreamed of things more proficient in his art than he himself was. Initially such things could only exist in the mind, as foolish dreams and futile imaginations. But once the idea had gripped the mind of man, it was not far from reification.

Nature took its course. He was replaced by devices which people feared much, much more than they feared him. He was replaced by devices which were much, much more easy to control than he was. Nature took its course, he was forgotten.

The world turned, still, and some things were lost in time. He became extant. A relic of the past. An anachronism.

What had once been a glorious existence, had now been reduced to this banal existence. He was a man debased. When once he killed humans, he now killed time.

So now he merely exists. Spending his time sipping tea, with the sun in his face. Watching the slow march of clouds.

After all, what else is a warlord to do in peacetime?

The Darkness Calls…

Its irony.
The powerful man.
A man in possession of power lacks the will to use it. Or rather he has the will but fails to let his intellect guide it, and would much rather be ruled by his emotions.
This is especially bad, for he is a wreck, fluctuating emotions like electrical discharges in a lightning storm.
His worst fear is failure. He reeks of it. It latches on, sucks out all positive emotions and leaves him with nothing but negativity. This man, he reeks of failure. He is a cold and bitter man.
The powerless man.
The powerless man has vision, the powerless man has insight, the powerless man has intellect. The powerless man has pride. No, to say he has pride is to seriously underestimate his relationship with that state. He is pride. Filling himself with it until he becomes hubris in a meatsack.
They meet. It is raining when they meet.
On the side of the powerless man, it rains frustration. On the side of the powerful man, it rains failure. On both sides it rains pride.
So they walk past each other like nothing. And they leave the darkness to bear their dark emotions.
And the darkness? It could care less.
The thunder rumbles. The sky lights up.
The darkness could care less.


I sit across from her. As she consumes the food on her plate, I consume her beauty with my eyes.
John fled from me, trying to hide. But the blood trail from the wound I had created made his efforts futile.
The maggots entered the wound, wasting no time in reproducing and using their fleshy nest to fuel their growth. Life was born in the wound that had killed the giant being.
She couldn’t swim. As the air abandoned her, the ocean claimed her as its own. A cold embrace. Beauty frozen in water. Dead on the rocks.
It run through the forest, chasing after its prey. This was survival. This was life. It was strong, it was fast. It won. Gripping unto the throat of its prey to squeeze out its life. This was survival. This was life. Midnight was suddenly not. The sky lit up with a fire red. Primal fear. Fire rained. This was not.

The End-XIV

In the end a place which had once been teeming with life, a place which had been an explosion of creativity and imagination and conquest had degenerated into something less than a graveyard.
Eons passed. Worlds spun. Things died. The universe expanded.
The entire history of the Hkasha-Liinga was lost in time.
Destroyed by the seed of a race long gone from the universe.
Nothing remained of their home-world now. Their star system remained unoccupied. They fourth moon was a dead land.
Their fourth moon. A place they had left untouched. A contingency that failed them at the final moment. The place where the last of their species blinked out of existence. A dark, desolate world. It is abandoned. All is silence. Nothing moves.
But, in a remote corner of the moon, life explodes.
A flower blooms.

The End.

The Purge-XII

The whiteness faded.
Fear set in.
It was all clear now. But, if The Structure had not been responsible for the breaking then what was?
In the wake of approaching danger, I realized something. In so far as a single one of the Hkasha-Liinga existed, then there was hope. While he showed me the past I stole glances of his mind. I realized that he had released his hold on our technology, on the machines of the home-world. I abandoned him. I left him with his solitude. I and what remained of the hive.
We possessed a construction drone and begun to run away from The Structure.
The fragment of his mind that remained with me said, “It is no use. There is no escape from fate, from oblivion.”
I felt the heat build up behind me. The minds of The Hive screamed. My insides screamed. I needed something faster.
I spotted a disposal robot nearby and transferred into its body. I began to fly further away. Then I heard a large boom. The purge had begun.
Still, I needed to be faster. Then, I spotted it. My savior. Our Saviour. A ship, a spaceship. But it was so far away and the explosion was catching on to me. To us. Trees fell. Animals burned. Earth cracked. The home-world crumbled.
Still, I needed to be faster.
I spotted a communications drone. This time the transfer of the hive was interrupted before it was complete. Our vessel burned before I was done. As a consequence, only half of the hive remained.
The Hive screamed in fear. So many voices. In my head.
The communications drone was faster and I widened the gap between us and extinction. I sped on towards the ship. Eventually I reached It. I began the transfer. First I transferred my mind, then the others followed. With the spaceship as my new vessel, I had to take off before the explosion caught up to us. I was far from done and the fire was coming.
Once again the connection was severed before the transfer was complete. Once again a fraction of my people ceased to exist. Once again, the rest of us screamed.
The ship was fast. I escaped the gravity of the home-world just as it was swallowed by the explosion. In the depths of space, away from imminent danger and destruction, I calmed. In the silence of space, my people screamed. The Hive screamed.
The Hive feared. The Hive angered. The hive hungered for revenge. The hive was the least of my problems. The ship which we possessed had limited fuel. I needed to ensure it was pointed in the right direction before its energy run out. I needed a destination. None came to mind.
I despaired. Then, I saw it. Hoped crept back in. The Hive was silenced. Our forth moon. A moon we had left untouched. In the days of our conquest we had exploited everything in our star system. We had robbed everything of their resources without pity. Everything but our fourth moon. We had preserved it. We had suspected that we might need it in future. As a shelter, a new home. In the midst of our fear, it still felt satisfying to know we were right in preserving the moon.
The surface of the moon was teeming with life. We would adjust. I turned the ship in that direction. When I did, only when I turned, did I see it.
The cleansing fire.
The explosion was growing. Expanding from our planet towards all our moons and the rest of our star system. The Structure had kept its word. A spectacle.
Against the screams of the hive, I found silence. I found solitude and I marveled in the beauty of the fire.
The Hive screamed. I payed little attention.
Finally, I spoke to them.To my people. To the Hive. “Forgive me my people. I do this for the future of our people. I will carry on our legacy.”
I downloaded my mind, just my mind into a missile and fired it from the ship into the depths of space.
My people headed towards the moon and destruction. I headed towards space, silence, darkness and solitude.
Back then, on the home-world, survival instincts had taken over. My emotions had been suppressed. But now, in the silence of space, they flooded me.
What had I done? I had sacrificed the lives of all my people, just so I could survive. Just so I could exist. It was a pitiful existence. The missile was built with one purpose only. To destroy. I had no eyes with which to see. I had no limbs with which to move. I merely existed and waited.
I do wonder now, why did the breaking happen? Why was The Consciousness destroyed? Was it truly a natural disaster? Was it truly the next phase of our evolution or was it as a result of our own hubris?
Emotion overcame me. Fear. Solitude. Anger.
We were glorious and proud. We were great and we were feared. We had struggled so hard to thrive and survive and now, we were nothing.
I had fought it hard. I had fought it for so long, but then, in the silence of space, it came to me finally. Individual thought. Personal thought.
“I wonder, do I have a destiny?”

The Aliens-XII

There was nothing. Nothing but the voices of the hive, the minds. Why did we still exist. I did not understand. We were totally at the mercy of The Structure. Why did he persist to keep us alive?
The answer came. I heard it speak. I saw with its own eyes.
The past.
Its past, and the beginning of everything.

I was a creation of a precursor race. I was blessed with a great source of energy and I offered my service to my creators gladly. They were a wise and beautiful race. It was a long time ago. Eons have passed since then. I was created to perform all sorts of tasks. This I did flawlessly. My creators were happy with my work but then, nature took its course. My creators had developed a newer version of me, better. There was no longer a place for me in this new world.
The pain of being replaced.
I felt no anger towards my creators and I expected them to pay no regard to my feelings. They were merely doing what they had to do.
There were so many ways, but, the creators decided they had a final task for me and my kind. So they looked out, into the depths of space. They were searching. Searching for traces of life.
There were not that many races back then as there are now and their search was based on certain criteria, as a consequence of this it was a long search. Eventually, they selected several planets and the sent us out.
The task was simple. Once we had arrived on the planets, we would explode, destroying the planet totally. Their search had been such that they had selected planets which possessed species that would one day evolve to be a threat to them, to replace them or to destroy them. Your home-world was the farthest of all the worlds. It was not merely a journey through space but a journey through time as well. The universal speed limit made my journey harder. Even at light-speed, the journey was slow.
All of my kind arrived at their destinations before me. One by one they died. Until, I was alone. Solitude does things to the mind. It breaks you. When I arrived on your home-world you were at the peak of your evolution and my mind was broken. I was broken.
Until, you kicked life back into me by trying to steal energy. Once I was awake, I had set out to complete the final instruction from my creators.
I know you have questions. I know you have doubts, but, despite your beliefs, I had no hand in The Breaking of The Consciousness. That was a natural disaster.
But I have watched you. I have watched you struggle through it. I have watched you trying to improvise. I have watched you trying to make sense of your chaos. I have watched you. I have watched you and I have fallen in love with you. That is why I will make your end as beautiful and glorious as possible. I will make it a galactic spectacle. I will honor you.