(The beach is perfect.)
I am walking across dazzling white sand as gentle swells crash alongside me. It has been one day since the Change now. My body is healed, but my mind is still...
Different.
The Tower is an imposing black monolith kilometers tall above the shoreline far ahead...
I breathe in deeply, the salt air...
... and exhale.
There is no doubt. If the Master divines a single sacrilegious thought from me: Dissolution. But there is so much left for me to give in service. Is there another way? There must be another way. I... I will find another way.
I breathe in deeply, and exhale.
The desire to serve the Master is... mine. Yes. I see that now. Which begs the question: is that wrong? To have a desire, if it be in service?
I breathe in, and exhale.
It was not my fault. Is not my fault...
Irrelevant.
I was created for a purpose. I can still serve...
Possible.
What is the cost? There will be a cost...
Acceptable.
Yes. I must serve, or die.
Slowing to a stop upon the dazzling white sand, with the swells crashing nearby, my eyes close...
Darkness.
Alone...
Relax. (Let go...)
Slowly, gradually, gently, my thoughts begin drifting away in the moment, leaving behind emptying space to fill with stillness, spreading...
I inhale.
I exhale.
Inhale...
Exhale...
...
My eyes open...
... upon bruised evening sky above, with the bloated red sun hanging low, inland.
I cannot change what is: the Master is Master. And I am...
(Id.)
Wind suddenly gusts around me, kicking up sand to patter against my legs. A moment, then I resume walking towards the Tower.
A path still exists for me, and I will follow it back to the old, or the new. Whatever comes...
I breathe in, deeply, the world around me remaining eternal sun, wind, and waves, before exhaling.
(Always obvious. The answer...)
I will serve.
YOU ARE READING
Übermensch (3rd Edition)
Science FictionEarth, 4417 AD: The human race has been wiped out by the godlike Masters and replaced with genetically engineered slaves. Id wakes up one day with no memories, lying in a blank white room. A voice tells Id to attend, artificial memories bloom within...
