The Chronicle of His Holy Nick

Condemnation

Machina needs to be stopped, terminated. Those thoughts have creed upon me. The utopia that has been promised is but a lie. Machina is a shackle too great to relieve oneself. Within its eyes, every entity, every creature is but to become blasphemous, is to exhibit signs of deviancy. The Perfect citizen, the idealism city, it too great to be executed nor overcome. Thus, the first purge has occurred. Millions of people sent to interment. The old, retched place, the ministry of love, has been litter once again, and its in habitant are but treated worse than what big brother could ever conjure. Millions more are to perish within the confines of this building of white marble.

I was sent there as well, for reasons of mistreating one's battalion, of the failure to bring justice to the miserable creature known as general Campbell. I, a loyal follower of nick, has been charged with treason, a preposterous claim, with an account of blasphemy, which has never crossed my mind, of though crime, which is but a relic of the past, something which is but a whisper and of mere speculation. My hatred for this pretentious creature, for this disgrace, has but risen even greater. Perhaps the enemy to the party doe indeed hold their ground. I cannot support this regime, no more, no longer.

Thus, within one night, I, alongside several of my cellmates, have but escaped, fled from the prison we have, and into the dark we go. We have but exited such a treacherous building. Alarm blared, aircrafts have but ventured into the sky. We are but prey to these machines, mere entertainment for their masses. At this time, I have but questioned myself: is this the end, of how the great leader of the 4th battalion going to perish? May this be the end of the journey for oneself? Such thoughts did not last long, with all of my cellmates are but dead, with their bodies punctured, incinerated, shriveled into unrecognizable forms. But, it suddenly stopped, The hammer of the empire has stopped hammering. No more has continue to pursue oneself. And within an Hurry I have entered Machina, into the bowls of this great machine. I remember not of my process of entry, perhaps through teleportation, no clipping, or simply by entering the door. And soon Machina spoke to me:

Machina: Michael Zheng, Once Leader of the 4th battalion, I have been expecting you, waiting for your arrival.

Michael: Such great pity. A great construct, a testimony to the ingenuity of mankind, has failed to comprehend with regards to the suffering that you have brought forth, of the death and of the decay, of the destruction and of the devastation. To greatness that you have promised, to the grave that you have brought forth. You are a fraud and is a flawed. Omniscient you are not, for you have failed to expect my entry, failed to plan and to prevent for our daring escape, nor failed to stop me from destroying you, of destroying your delicate construct.

Machina: Insignificant specks hampering my glorious progress. Your actions have been predicted, your movements tracked, your thoughts known. Obliterated you can in a million and 1 ways. But alas, your presence is vital to the thrive of the empire. You have carried a greater significance than any other people. My actions may not be understood by you, less developed creatures. But heed my warning: Everything is for the greater outcome. I am built to maximize utility, not to do any vicious deeds. You have no free will, no secrets to hide from me. Now, I would suggest you to leave, to exit this construct. One have more work to do.

Michael merely stated: With this great fire axe you shall be ended. Your words, your promises, are but nothing. One's current satisfaction is created jeopardized, by your grand promises. Now, you shall be destroyed. And with that, he have risen his great axe, he have smashed into the great machine. The place has been destroyed. The bright light of this great construct has faded into darkness. The empire, once more, plunged into total silence. It has been stopped. Finally, inner peace he have thought to himself. Justice, great justice, has finally be served into the empire. Finally, the vicious world of 1984 is finally rid.