Simular Beings

(Prologue) The Creator of Desolate Worlds

It was never the same after that day.

As he watched the casket sink deeper into the earth, out of his reach, he could almost feel her leaving... as if the wind had finally taken her soul. It was a sensation that felt unreal. Shovels of dirt poured in with each and every wet drop, and yet, no sound accompanied his tears. No cries or sobs, not even a wail.

I don't deserve that.

The thought floated inside, sloshing about his murky mind. He didn't even know if he was crying because of her or because of what he'd done to her.

I don't deserve this life.

His own mother. After all those years of research, he couldn't even save her. He couldn't even understand what he'd done to deserve all this. Those human lives he'd used for experiments, wasting away to nothing...

He visited-rain or shine, busy or not-every single day for the last, miniscule bit of her life. Her hospital bed beeped rhythmically to the constant ticking of an antique, analog clock. A number of plastic containers half full of instant noodles littered the floor. It was disgusting, abhorrent. But none of that mattered. He wanted that acknowledgement. No, he needed it. He needed to make her smile.

As her health rapidly deteriorated, he tried so hard to prove to her-he was there for her, he was her son. He could be somebody she could be proud of. But all she did was stare out that wretched window towards a vast concrete canyon of glass towers and garish wallscapes. All she did was watch as her time slowly ticked away.

Never once did she speak nor look his way. Never once did she change, always mute to his entire existence...

It made sense. To him, it made complete sense. After all, he had taken lives she'd called innocent. He hadn't followed her ways. But it was to further humanity, he'd said. For his research, for her. It was to give those who were suffering a taste of freedom. And when he'd told her that his research could save her, could give her another chance to live in a peaceful world far beyond the grasps of their own reality...

She had declined.

He had created a simulation to simulate all of humanity. He had created worlds upon worlds of fiction and fantasy. A place where impossibilities became reality. It was another chance at life-a life one could live far differently from their first. Nobody had to suffer. Nothing could go wrong. Everyone was truly free to revel in this new realm of existence. It was a modern marvel of programming.

And she'd still declined his offer.

He had suggested yet another means to elongate her time on this godforsaken planet. Just until he would, yet again, cause another breakthrough-a way to transfer a human's entirety into these coded worlds of his. He had told her to believe in him; he would make it happen. He would prove his usefulness to her. All she had to do was accept, and he'd have placed her immediately into one of those exorbitant luxuries only the richest of the rich could afford-a cryostasis pod.

But again, she had declined without a second thought...

As the last few mounds of dirt were hammered down over her remains, a final, fleeting memory echoed through his mind-a brief moment when she had finally turned and met his eyes for the first time in several months. Her brittle arms rested by her side, almost too frail to even move. Her eyes were pale clouds lacking all life and vibrance, but her voice-hoarse, yet sharp, booming with power. He could never forget her final words...

"Don't forget who you are."

He had eyed the white, hospital sheets when he'd heard those words. He could only imagine how disappointed she'd have looked. Of course he wouldn't forget. He couldn't. After all those years living high and mighty. After all those years of neuroscientific research, he was and would only be a vile and nasty creature. A despicable human known to many as-

The Creator.