Brilliant Man/Vir Clarissimus (Latin)

Chapter 22 On the Origins of Man

The evening blushed red with anxiety. Ozwald discovered that when pressing his index finger to Shannon's, his ability to procreate could be passed on.

In fifteen minutes, this practice had spread to nearly a third of the newly-populated Utopia, adding life which wasn't the usual forests or prairie. Compiling fifty people, Shannon formed the 'Reproductive Squad,' a group that would ensure this population growth extended to different plant, animal, and organism species, resurrecting Ozwald's world. Now there were occupants for its trees, grasslands, and forests.

Docile mammoths, toxodons, house-sized dogs, dinosaurs, and dragons soon began making appearances on land.

~

Currency quickly replaced barter, oak was the dominant resource, and urbanization had taken off! Acres were booked and townships built; in the quest for oil, iron, copper, and gold were discovered; printing presses spread word around, transforming oak coins to corporatized paper bills. These individuals did not need food or water, but still sought wealth, though they did not need it.

~

As the ruler of this world, Ozwald prided himself in his expanding subjects, witnessing modern equivalents to revolutionary efforts develop in only days.

While there were no flying vehicles, transportation pods, or sonic engines, individuals made well with bicycles, camels, and horses, dispersing in expeditions to the furthest reaches of the Utopia for signs of harder, more valuable metals.

Internally, Ozwald understand that at some point, this third trial would cease after his civilization grew to the once-brave Earth.

Yet he did not want it to.

~

Ozwald strolled through the dark plains. While musing over an argument from earlier, a white eye appeared in the sky. Its white tears molded into a silhouette, depleting from its own color before soon the eye was replaced with this silhouette. Ozwald paused, watching this all happen.

"Ugh, not now.." He snapped, shooting himself up. He hovered only five yards away from the shadow and knew exactly who it was.

They were quiet, the only sound coming from storm clouds. Then, Zed drifted forward, catching his attention.

Now nearer to each other, Zed expressed his disgust by cringing at Ozwald's changes to the world below. Sadly, in the dark, his expression did not show, so he only gave him a short, disapproving nod.

"You right?"

Ozwald flicked up, looking startled. Zed muttered in continuation, "It was you who wrote up all... all this chaos, wasn't it?" After returning to the ground, they began a heated argument. Its original idea wound, twisted, and ballooned in various circles but Zed – through his gnarling, spiteful noises and raspy voice – made sure it wasn't completely lost.

During their argument, the world entered slumber. The initial burst of brown-orange sunset was then consumed by darkness kissed with a crescent moon; the breeze chilled, grass settled, and rivers slowed. Ozwald stopped their argument, wanting to relax. He seriously breathed, exhaling the dust accumulated from the second trial and husk in his heart.

Zed focused on the last remaining purple tree. 'What?' he thought. 'Had they walked this long?' Suddenly, this explained why they'd had an argument – it was an excuse for Zed to bring him here. These trees embodied something. Immediately after thinking this, a raindrop slid off the upper-flesh of his nose.