Post by Phantom Stargrave on Sept 6, 2011 8:11:19 GMT -5
I wrote this few years ago as an exercise and then forgot about it. I found it sitting in my computer today, and figured why the hell not? The story continues the Genesis according to New Gods from Final Crisis. Enjoy.
The Man stopped, exhausted, his legs burning, his chest heaving. He has been running for so long, he’s lost all track. The sun should have risen in the sky long ago, but instead there is still only darkness. Darkness, and clouds red with blood. There is darkness in his mind too. A shadow weighing down on his thoughts. He knows what it is. He has seen it. They all have. In the time after the Silver One gave the Shaman knowledge. When his tribe banished the Vandal and brought peace to the land. Then the Monster came.
He came in a swirl of light, but cloaked in shadow. He stood before them, tall, as if of stone. When he stepped, mountains shuddered and when he rose before them, the sun itself cowered behind the clouds. He spoke to them, though his mouth did not move. His words were evil, and neither hands nor stone nor distance could save ears from them. The voice in the mind commanded them to obey. They did not want to. They attacked, they fled, and when the pain became too much, they screamed, but soon they were all his.
All except The Man. He had felt it too. The pain and the darkness and the stone will imposing itself over him. What force snapped him out if it, he did not know. All he knew was he was free, and he ran. Even now he could hear them, from within and without, calling out to him. Come back, they said. It is bliss, they said. But he knew it was a lie, so he kept running. He felt the thunder in the back. He felt the skies watching him. The Dark One knew where he was and he would come after him. But now, there was a light on the horizon. Something pierced the veil of blood, and it beckoned him to come to it. So he kept running.
He collapsed on a green hill, utterly spent. Still unwilling to surrender, he crawled forward, inch by inch, until finally he touched something. A fabric. A robe. He looked up, and saw an old man standing over him, holding a crooked stick, bathed in light. His eyes pierced him, a gaze so alien, but yet familiar. He reminded him of his father. Of all fathers. But danger crept close. The Shadow was almost there, and all he could think of was to keep running. The old man took his hand, and spoke, like the monster spoke, yet in a voice soothing and filled with love.
‘Do not be afraid child. I am the Highfather. And I come today to deliver you from this curse.’
‘Ah, Inheritor,' the Monster spoke as he approached, towering over the old man, light and darkness dancing around them. ‘What brings you to this forsaken planet? Do you hope to free these mongrels? I have touched them all with my mind, and they bow to my will. Only this one escaped me. Give him to me, so that may endure the punishment he deserves.’
‘No.’
‘He belongs to me Highfather. Would you break the pact and bring about another cataclysm just for one little human?’
‘Do not presume I am without tricks of my own, Darkseid! Inheritor you called me. Let me show you what my inheritance is!’ The Old Man’s left hand stretched out, markings of beautiful colors forming over it. ‘Behold, Darkseid the Life Equation!’
‘What is this?’
‘It is the spirit of rebellion, it is the Hearth of hope, and it will be your undoing.’
‘You would bring them their free will? Let them defy me?’
‘Of course, is that not why I am here for? Now let my hand touch all beings on this planet, and let the Alpha bullets carry the wave of hope to them.’
The old man’s hand reached towards the heavens and streaks of white light flew out if, engulfing the land.
‘NO!!!’ screamed The Monster, as his eyes flared red and let loose beams of their of their own. The sky became a battlefield, white and red tangling over the clouds, battling, dodging.
The Old Man smiled. ‘Come now, Darkseid, do you really think you can ensnare freedom so easily? It spurns any trap, piercing stone, air, space, force and power.’
For the first time, The Monster seemed… angry. Menacingly he approached the Old Man. ‘You freed them from my eternal will?! YOU DARED???’
-What now, Devil God?’ The Old Man rose and suddenly matched the shadow’s height and power. ‘Do we discard the pact and collide like the opposites we are? Do we annihilate ourselves like nothing more than two cosmic particles? Would that suit the plans of the Lord of Apokolips?’
Their wills seemed locked in combat. A battle unseen, yet so tangible. But eventually, The tension began to ease.
‘Highfather… This will not go unpunished,’ spoke the Dark One. ‘They can have their free wills, but they will have a world of pain go with it. I will see to it. I will throw countless horrors upon them. Every piece of their lives I will warp against them, until nothing but one certainty remains, that their will and freedom are a lie. And when their spirit is spent, I will take it from them once more, and then they, you and all the universe, will bow down to the one true God.’
With a great thunder, a hole appeared in the air, and through it the Dark One now vanished, his words weighing like a stone around The Man’s neck, covering him with fear. But The Old Man touched him gently, and suddenly all seemed well once more.
‘Fear not child,’ he said. ‘He may throw tantrums as much as he likes, but it will not avail him. For within you, I have planted to seeds of his destruction, A seed I hope to one day see blossom.’
And with those words, The Man fell to sleep, exhausted from his ordeal. When he wakes, he knew the sun would once again shine, and his kin would be their own once more. So he slept, dreaming of the great beings he encountered, wondering where beyond the stars they dwelt and what unknowable wars they fight, completely unaware of the destiny his descendants will have in the conflict of Gods.
The Man stopped, exhausted, his legs burning, his chest heaving. He has been running for so long, he’s lost all track. The sun should have risen in the sky long ago, but instead there is still only darkness. Darkness, and clouds red with blood. There is darkness in his mind too. A shadow weighing down on his thoughts. He knows what it is. He has seen it. They all have. In the time after the Silver One gave the Shaman knowledge. When his tribe banished the Vandal and brought peace to the land. Then the Monster came.
He came in a swirl of light, but cloaked in shadow. He stood before them, tall, as if of stone. When he stepped, mountains shuddered and when he rose before them, the sun itself cowered behind the clouds. He spoke to them, though his mouth did not move. His words were evil, and neither hands nor stone nor distance could save ears from them. The voice in the mind commanded them to obey. They did not want to. They attacked, they fled, and when the pain became too much, they screamed, but soon they were all his.
All except The Man. He had felt it too. The pain and the darkness and the stone will imposing itself over him. What force snapped him out if it, he did not know. All he knew was he was free, and he ran. Even now he could hear them, from within and without, calling out to him. Come back, they said. It is bliss, they said. But he knew it was a lie, so he kept running. He felt the thunder in the back. He felt the skies watching him. The Dark One knew where he was and he would come after him. But now, there was a light on the horizon. Something pierced the veil of blood, and it beckoned him to come to it. So he kept running.
He collapsed on a green hill, utterly spent. Still unwilling to surrender, he crawled forward, inch by inch, until finally he touched something. A fabric. A robe. He looked up, and saw an old man standing over him, holding a crooked stick, bathed in light. His eyes pierced him, a gaze so alien, but yet familiar. He reminded him of his father. Of all fathers. But danger crept close. The Shadow was almost there, and all he could think of was to keep running. The old man took his hand, and spoke, like the monster spoke, yet in a voice soothing and filled with love.
‘Do not be afraid child. I am the Highfather. And I come today to deliver you from this curse.’
‘Ah, Inheritor,' the Monster spoke as he approached, towering over the old man, light and darkness dancing around them. ‘What brings you to this forsaken planet? Do you hope to free these mongrels? I have touched them all with my mind, and they bow to my will. Only this one escaped me. Give him to me, so that may endure the punishment he deserves.’
‘No.’
‘He belongs to me Highfather. Would you break the pact and bring about another cataclysm just for one little human?’
‘Do not presume I am without tricks of my own, Darkseid! Inheritor you called me. Let me show you what my inheritance is!’ The Old Man’s left hand stretched out, markings of beautiful colors forming over it. ‘Behold, Darkseid the Life Equation!’
‘What is this?’
‘It is the spirit of rebellion, it is the Hearth of hope, and it will be your undoing.’
‘You would bring them their free will? Let them defy me?’
‘Of course, is that not why I am here for? Now let my hand touch all beings on this planet, and let the Alpha bullets carry the wave of hope to them.’
The old man’s hand reached towards the heavens and streaks of white light flew out if, engulfing the land.
‘NO!!!’ screamed The Monster, as his eyes flared red and let loose beams of their of their own. The sky became a battlefield, white and red tangling over the clouds, battling, dodging.
The Old Man smiled. ‘Come now, Darkseid, do you really think you can ensnare freedom so easily? It spurns any trap, piercing stone, air, space, force and power.’
For the first time, The Monster seemed… angry. Menacingly he approached the Old Man. ‘You freed them from my eternal will?! YOU DARED???’
-What now, Devil God?’ The Old Man rose and suddenly matched the shadow’s height and power. ‘Do we discard the pact and collide like the opposites we are? Do we annihilate ourselves like nothing more than two cosmic particles? Would that suit the plans of the Lord of Apokolips?’
Their wills seemed locked in combat. A battle unseen, yet so tangible. But eventually, The tension began to ease.
‘Highfather… This will not go unpunished,’ spoke the Dark One. ‘They can have their free wills, but they will have a world of pain go with it. I will see to it. I will throw countless horrors upon them. Every piece of their lives I will warp against them, until nothing but one certainty remains, that their will and freedom are a lie. And when their spirit is spent, I will take it from them once more, and then they, you and all the universe, will bow down to the one true God.’
With a great thunder, a hole appeared in the air, and through it the Dark One now vanished, his words weighing like a stone around The Man’s neck, covering him with fear. But The Old Man touched him gently, and suddenly all seemed well once more.
‘Fear not child,’ he said. ‘He may throw tantrums as much as he likes, but it will not avail him. For within you, I have planted to seeds of his destruction, A seed I hope to one day see blossom.’
And with those words, The Man fell to sleep, exhausted from his ordeal. When he wakes, he knew the sun would once again shine, and his kin would be their own once more. So he slept, dreaming of the great beings he encountered, wondering where beyond the stars they dwelt and what unknowable wars they fight, completely unaware of the destiny his descendants will have in the conflict of Gods.
