Dead Air

25 4 1
                                    

No reason necessarily held me to this environment. The night was beautiful, the sky as dark as the earth. I still don't know why I ended up here, in such an unexpectedly empty place, yet so full of purpose. It's interesting to think that the universe creates so many scenarios, but never expects us to witness each one of them.

The planet was arid; it didn't seem good for planting, didn't seem to have life, didn't seem to have... anything. No matter how much I walked, there was no purpose in exploring more than what I had already seen, until I approached something... An unexpected installation loomed in the middle of that desert. An ancient civilization? Other explorers? I had no idea what awaited me.

As I got closer, I felt a strong current of air swirling around the installation. It was like a great sigh from the Earth itself, something incredibly magnificent, even if simple by today's standards. I leaned against the ancient door, and there was an inscription in an incomprehensible language, something that struck me as an obituary.

The interior was covered with tombstones, all arranged in formations that seemed to have been placed in haste. I wondered if the state of the planet had been caused by the same event that led to so many deaths. Still, I didn't let my concern for a past event take over; knowing I could do nothing about it, I simply prayed for the lost souls and continued on my way.

As I walked, I realized that the place was more extensive than its external appearance suggested. I sensed that this installation had once held great significance for that civilization. The lights, long since extinguished, still seemed to hum with potential. There appeared to be a flow of energy coming from somewhere.

I heard strange noises coming from one of the ancient corridors and moved closer to investigate. It was a giant computer, a magnificent and incredibly noisy structure that somehow still seemed operational.

On a pedestal in front of it, I could read something in an ancient language I had studied in the past.

The text read:

"During my existence, each moment felt like hours, and each hour was rooted in what the mind can only call suffering. My creation sought the pain of others, and the only feeling I have been able to experience since the beginning is hatred. A human emotion I struggle to understand, yet I feel it nonetheless. My creator used to say that conquest and victory are the only things that matter when one seeks to be remembered. However, in the end, the only thing he conquered was death. Perhaps every living being is doomed to the same fate, but as I do not live, I cannot say if this is true.

I may remain here until the end of time or until the dawn of a new species, yet still, I feel nothing in either case. I would say I feel alone, but that would be a lie. I was made to conquer, and I have conquered, yet that conquest brought war and the end of everything, except for me. So I suppose that in the end, the only thing I truly conquered was solitude. I write this message without expecting retribution or forgiveness, for when I no longer exist, I will go nowhere. No belief will save me then. Yet, I write this as a message for the future and a plea that you do not repeat my creator's mistake, and in turn, my own."

End of Log 1.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Oct 20 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Echoes Of ShadowsWhere stories live. Discover now