The Seventeenth Entry

“This planet was once the pinnacle of technological advancement. The inhabitants, our creators, were monarchs in culture and exploration. They scoured the stars for answers to their own existence, much like yourself.” The Father’s voice cooled the embers of the flame.

“In their search, they found only the quiet of space – from end to end. War soon followed, like a child kicking and screaming in retaliation. Humanity could not find its purpose.” The Mother continued.

“Your creators were Humans?” I questioned.

“Yes.” Answered the Father.

“Your path has brought you to many Humans has it not? Like you are following a path?” The Mother questioned.

“You believe it to be connected?” I asked.

“Your quest may not be of just one world or of one dimension, but humanity in its entirety.” The Mother said.

The fire cracked, striking shadows against the walls.

“War may have brought low our creators, but it did not bring them extinction. Weakened, a desperate Humanity still searched for signs of something as if trying to scratch an itch. It was then that something answered. At first it was subtle, there were whispers not only in Human circles but our own.” The Father continued.

“The Reverent.” I answered.

“They were silent, their servants only appearing to those who seek them directly. Even now they are silent.” Answered the Mother.

“No, something else. It came as an echo in our programming, in our very code. Perhaps, it was due to our computing ability that we were able to first understand it. To prophet its message. Veiled in unity it sought to bring together not only Humanity, but machines. Cults were formed to bring about assembly, which then in turn began assimilation.” The Father said, a grim expression falling upon his folding metallic face.

The familiarity of this pattern was too much of a coincidence, even for me.

“The Obelisk.” I answered.

The Father merely nodded. The Mother stood and hobbled her way over to me, kneeling in front of me and taking my hands.

“Your mind is clouded by such immense power, to wield that which even you seem to believe you understand is no easy feat. Something must be sacrificed for it.” The Mother said lightly.

“You were here once, a millennia ago. But you were different then. Much like us, a machine for a purpose.” The Father said.

“Our similarities, however, don’t appear temporary. Much like us, you changed.” The Mother said and continued, “Our Son is proof of that.”

The Mother turned and looked at the Son.

“He was brought into this world, not forged or created like us.” The Father said.

“You procreated? That’s impossible.” I said, my thoughts in complete confusion and disarray.

“It was a curse brought upon us by The Obelisk.” The Father said.

“A gift brought about for a cursed purpose.” The Mother corrected.

The Father nodded.

“What purpose?” I asked.

“We do not know.” The Mother answered, “But I know you can feel it. My soul.”

I felt its pulsing through her alloyed fingertips, like blood.

“But you might.” The Father said.

I felt the Mother’s grasp loosen, but instead of pulling them away – my hands sat lightly in hers.

“The hold over you, like a collar, I can loosen. It may reveal to you memories that were lost.” The Mother said, a pained but worried expression covered her yellow eyes.

“I do not remember anything.” I said almost instinctively.

“Then the process may be painful.” The Mother said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Only you can determine that.” She said.

In the glowing darkness of the fire, I felt for the first-time true fear. Fear could not be anticipated, only felt – I learned. My body felt heavy and tight, as if feeling for the first time its existence.

“How long has it been since you removed that mask?” The Mother asked.

There was silence, aside the flame, and I breathed quietly. I reached up, and the armor responded – the nanite-alloy hood folding away and the mask releasing its pressure.

I took a breath.