Illusory

Prologue: MICHAEL

My eyes twitched.

My heart raced.

My mind was numb.

                The detective on the other side of the steel table observed me, sweeping over the length of my lean body in a way that I’d never experienced. Humans seemed so curious and inquisitive but there was a haughty air to their conviction.

                The detective was no different, looking at me smugly. His dark coat and fedora spoke about his trying much too hard, and the badge that he displayed so proudly was dull, spotted, and certainly didn’t represent as much as he wanted it to.

He had these wide green eyes that pierced right into my head, and I cocked an eyebrow back at the man. What was he looked for? Sure, the rally may have been for the wrong reason. Why arrest the innocent bystander? God, humans are unpredictable.

He leaned back, never taking his eyes off of me. After a long period of time, probably attempting to freak me out, the detective spoke. "So," he drawled slowly. His aura flickered and shimmered with reds and yellows, and his tongue flicked out and licked his bottom lip. It was a sign – the detective, whose badge read ‘Cowl,’ was nervous. "You claim-,"

“I claim?” I interrupted him. “As far as I was aware, I hadn’t said much in the way of claims. The detective sighed and I smirked back at him.

                “Mr. Smith, please let me finish.”

I inclined my head slightly, pursing my lips in annoyance. Detective Cowl was starting to get nosy, and I didn’t like it.

“Oh, honestly. It’s not like I did anything wrong.” God, mortals were so….flimsy!

                “It’s protocol, Mr. Smith.” I nodded slowly in response.

                “Protocol – I feel like there’s a lot of protocol around here.” The eye roll that followed from Detective Cowl was subtle, but I was much smarter than the flimsy detective. “Oh, god, the human race reduced to this…after all that you could have been!”

"Excuse me?" He asked, confused. I didn't reply, instead pushing back the metal chair, its heels scraping on the tiled floor, and turned on my heel. “Mr. Smith! Sit – wait, no, you can’t just…stop! Come back! Stop him!” It was a little late to stop me. I was done with the ‘interview’ anyways. Why bother, right?

                The streets were booming at ten PM, and I concluded it was true – New York City was truly the city that never sleeps. Litter was stuffed into the corners of alleys and sidewalks, music poured out of nightclubs every few blocks, girls carrying their heels on their finger staggered home with friends or boyfriends, and I scowled at the stench of alcohol that I couldn’t seem to get rid of.

                It’s funny though. The reality of it all was almost laughable, because it wasn’t real. I mean, none of this was real. Even the humans haven’t noticed it!

                I mean, you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m talking about. I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but the human race? Flimsy, weak, predictable… the human race is an illusion, it’s not real. The human race is tearing itself apart limb to limb, while we sit and watch and yet still you persevere – but not for long. You have to stop them.

RILEE

                Oh, god, Michael’s going to stop you guys from destroying yourselves? That’s practically laughable. Maybe he could accomplish that, but he certainly couldn’t stop us from destroying you. You’re not real, get over it. We created you and we could destroy simply by snapping our fingers. You can’t do anything about it because you don’t stand a chance. Sit back and enjoy the ride – I hope death treats the entire human race well.