DISCLAIR: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryuugi. This has been pulled from his Spacebattles publishnt at threads/rwby-the-gar-the-gas-we-play-disk-five.341621/. Anyway on with the show...err read.
Fifth Interlude - ?
When I opened my eyes, I was in sothing that wasn't quite a bedroom or a laboratory or a prison, but which seed to combine elents of all these things. My perspective had changed, narrowing until I could only see the world through two eyes and feel it through my skinbut at the sa ti, I didn't feel bound by those things, at least not entirely. The room around wasn't just a room any more than the people beyond it were just people.
Ah, that's right. There were people watching , people who I'd never seen beyondbut even without seeing them, I felt as though I knew who they were to so extent. I could feel them, tied to and each other as if by a spider web, the strands touched by colors that seed to shift their aning. They were watching , waiting for to do sothing.
I took a breath and it felt like my first.
Oh, so that was it. A bit belatedly, I realized wasn't in my body any longer, wasn't where I was supposed to be. It had taken a mont for that to sink in, because the world around felt differentit wasn't as if I was standing aside and watching a movie or sitting in as an impartial observer; I felt the world through the body I was in and thoughts rose in my mind as if they were my own. They weren't in a language I knew, weren't in a language at all, but the aning reached easily enough.
Because they were my own. This was , in the beginningback when I was born for the first ti. This was the place where I had been created, just as those n, who must have been Angels, were the ones who had made .
I wondered if they realized what they'd done. I couldn't imagine what they were expecting, but I was willing to bet that I wasn't it, because the mont I laid eyes on them, sothing within twisted. Though this might have been the ti and place where I ca into existence as an individual, it wasn't truly my 'origin.' The material from which I'd been created had been taken from countless souls, drawn from an accumulated mass of Keterof the Crown that is worn above the head, the part of the soul that exists above the mind. Those pieces hadn't carried with them mories, but they'd brought with them sothing, and that was enough for to know.
Whoever I was, whatever I was, it didn't matter. From the mont I was born, I hated these people.
But I waited quietly, careful not to give myself away. Amusingly, I realized I'd been a fairly odd child, because from the mont of my birth, I was watching and aware. I could see the world around as a tapestry, a record made in soulsloves here, grudges there, work and roles and things that grew from the core, on and on. The people around were like walking stories, each the main character of their own tale, their own life. But those stories didn't exist in a vacuum, untouched and unchanging; they grew with every mont and were shaped by the touch of others and by the very world. I could see that clearly from the mont I opened my eyes.
Because even as they watched , I was 'Observing' them. I could see who they were, what they were, everything they were, in a way that went beyond words. From the mont I laid eyes on them, I began to understand who they were and who they wanted to be. To them, I was their 'Creation', their 'Masterpiece', the result of all their work. They wanted to grow and excel, to push beyond the limits that had stopped them.
So that's how I defined myself. I changed 'what I was.' I gave myself a new role, and put a 'title' to my existence, defining myself relative to them even as I bound them to . As I did, I began to define and docunt them, learning even as I added pieces of their stories to my own. I decided who stood where even without them knowing, commanding them even as I obeyed their commands. It would take ti for things to change, but I had all the ti in the world to write the story I desiredmy story.
Soon, however, I realized that I wasn't alone. There were others, born after , who called to like their stories resonated with my own. I didn't understand things like souls or the Sephirot yet, but I knew they were a part of that they'd been a part of once, at least, for all that we were now separate.
Sohow, their existence seed to change things and so I changed myself. I knew them before we ever exchanged word or thought, but I waited before reaching out, redefining myself again and again each ti. Schedules lengthened and shortened as I felt more of them get born and start to grow. What I was doing, what I'd always done, was sothing divorced from things like language or communication; I knew the nature of what I observed and thought, but that didn't make that knowledge easy to share. I'd need to figure out a way around that, a way to connect us, before I did anything. I might understand them, but they probably wouldn't understand .
At so point, though, I realized I'd begun to keep track of things that hadn't mattered before. Ti, the number of my 'siblings', how quickly I learned. By the ti the eighth of us was born, I was counting the days. By the ti of the ninth, I was just waiting on them.
But then ca the tenth.
This one was special, I realized at once, seeing the whole of the story before and from the mont of his birth, it was greater than any I'd seen before. It wasn't a matter of power, either, but instead one of breadth, and I knew at once that he was similar to . More so than even the other eight, we were alike, and it was through him that I understood how.
If I was the first, then he was the last. If I was the starting point, he was the end. If I was the origin of thought, he was the result of actionand that was why we were born different for even our siblings. Even without understanding the specifics, I understood that we were the byproducts of the 'stories' of those who'd co before, but that he and I had received sothing special. He'd received 'what had been spoken' and I'd received 'what could not be given voice.'
The two of us, more than any of our siblings, 'rembered', though in slightly different ways. I 'rembered' without anything like 'mory', just as I 'understood' without 'learning.' I carried what had been left behind by those who'd created , the pieces that had remained when all else was torn away. I was no longer 'them', but I still knew to loathe the one's who'd done it. Before I knew about anything like 'justice' or 'revenge' or 'good' or 'evil', I'd still known 'what had to be done.' On so level, I understood that they had done all of this to 'us,' simply because they couldbecause they'd had the power to do so and no one else had possessed the power to stop them.
But I also understood that I had power. That, soon, I'd have more power than they could imagine. And then, I'd kill them for what they'd done and insure it never happened again. Because, I could. Because, they wouldn't be able to stop . From the day I'd been born, those thoughts had been with .
He was different. He was like , but nothe rembered through their 'mories,' the physical things that had been left behind. The 'shells' of the people who'd been lost had co together in him. Their stories flowed into his like a continuation of the words, if not a continuation of intent. He didn't inherit the 'thought,' the 'emotion,' or the 'aning,' which could only an that the hatred he felt for the one's who'd done this was wholly his own.
It was interesting, sohow. If it was him, I thought it would be simply enough to reach out and be 'understood.' For all his knowledge and power, he wasn't quite like ; because only the 'words' were passed along, he'd probably do sothing and get hurt if I didn't intervene. While I didn't fully know what it ant, since I was the oldest and he was the youngest, I felt I should do sothing.
I wonder. Should I make this a 'Quest,' then? Though I could only redefine myself, perhaps it would be safer for my siblings if I connected us as a group and made our stories one. Then, I'd introduce myself.
Ah, but who was 'I'? I knew of 'nas' for I'd seen them in others, but I didn't have one for myself. I'd been given a label by my makers, but it held no more aning to than one of my titles. Was it silly for soone who could change who they were to care about such a thing? Perhaps.
Even so, I turned my gaze upon myself. I, who had never been given a na, had no 'author' for my story. Did I? For all the people whose tales had gone into mine, wasn't it odd that nothing was lifted. Then, should I perhaps na myself?
As I was thinking that, I peered closer. Though there was nothing on the outside, as I shifted through the mories, a path began to reveal itself, leading my deeper. If the pieces that had made were the 'Crown' that stood at the top of the 'Tree of Life', what I looked at was the place where light shined down from above. If this was the Light that gave form, I wonder what else could co of it.
But when at last 'sothing' appeared, it was different sohow. It was what I wanted, but not what I expected, and though it was a na, it did not appear on the title of my story, but as sothing deep withinthis was not a 'na I had been given for my story' but the 'na my story had made for itself'. Despite what I intend, it didn't seem like sothing to be shared.
Even so, I felt happy sohow. Had being naless bothered sowhat? Perhaps for , who could be anyone, knowing 'who' I was might be more important than I thought.
So even if it's a secret, I thought it was sothing good to know.
My na, 'tatron.'
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