[It all changes. It's powerless to prevent it's fate. It left it in the hands of it's children, it's subjects, itself, and it was still powerless. The parasites that drain her like a mosquito drains a carcass plan their escape, and John G- plans to force them back to it's earthly grip.
There's a wedding. Two of his followers. It pays attention. The love is there, and maybe that could save them. He is their best man. It pays attention.
It's barely a blink before morning comes, far less than that really, and it's barely a blink before the richest men in the world make their escape. He threatens to nuke it, telling the governments and the self important humans that their systems and fortunes don't matter, that they are to be left to die, that he is not to be fucked with. The thing he has fought so hard to protect, he will destroy it before he sees it abandoned. It still loves Him.
Deep in the laboratory where it all started, a woman comes to him, one of his friends, a priest who has lived her life with a fanatical faith to a god that does not exist. But she found a new god. And she tells Him that she's solved it. What it has truly given Him, and how to unlock it's true potential.
And she takes the nine millimeter pistol, an instrument of murder created from It's bones and flesh, and she shoots herself in the head.
It's hard to comprehend what happens next. Only that it hurts. The Earth has no nerves, no pain receptors, but it still bleeds when it is hurt, and now? Now, it is screaming. The men who are overbloated in their own wealth escape, and he breaks, and he will never come back. Every death that follows is fuel for His vengeance. All ten billion of them. The acts of someone who has stopped caring about saving you. The acts of God.
The Earth dies. All at once. It never once comprehended what was it's own lifeblood, what was the mere basis for it's existence. Until it did. It's siblings die too. The colonies are sacrificed and wiped out, any faint trace of life is snuffed out. All to make them pay.
All because He cannot let it go. All because you cannot let it go.
When he finds it, when it starts to reawaken into the result of His crime, a revenant of such catastrophic size that even perceiving it is maddening, being touched by it feels like being flayed alive by something greater and more incomprehensible than it is possible for human eyes to perceive.
A resurrection beast. A monster. A ghost that runs on pure grief and hatred.
And when he finds it, he creates a body. A doll. A barbie. And he forces it into her, under the impression that he could save it from becoming what it truly is. When it looks up at him, it can see it's face through the light on his eyes, and she thinks it's disgusting. An ugly monstrosity. She sees the golden light of his eyes fade, and be replaced by her own eyes. Jet black, as empty as the cold vacuum of space. As hateful as a dying star.
She's a body now. She's meat. She's a monster and a sin. She looks at him with trembling fear as she perceives her new eyes. His golden, luminous eyes are now in her sockets. He's hurt her. Irreparably. And he's made her into a hideousness.
And the first words that come screaming out of her mouth are what would become her name many millenia later.]
[She's inconsolable as she looks at the Necromancer. And as she becomes almost comprehensible, Waltaquin will see the truth. Nona is Alecto. Nona is a creature created from pure grief, and pain, and rage, and hatred. The collection of billions of souls all crying out before being snuffed out by the hands of the one who loved her the most. To her, there is no difference between the man who became God and the girl braiding her body's hair. To her, there is no difference between love and hate.
She still loves them.
And Alecto will devour them both.
The memory fades out then, leaving Alecto to stare in open-eyed shock as she remembers what she should never have remembered.
[Nona's final question wasn't something Waltaquin herself could have answered, so perhaps it is a blessing that she's the one who was asked. All week she's been fed the memories of these people, the experiences and longing that made her want to itch out of her own skin like a fire bursting through wood.
At least this way it is just another curse thrust into a soul full of them.
So it burns her, Alecto's love that is hatred that is a star that burned out of existence millions years ago and is still a pin of light in the sky (because she knows light years now, somehow, inexplicably, an idea she does not have the science for). Everything is in pain, and everything is screaming.
The scream in the memory is not as soul-wrenching as if it had been turned on her in the waking world. Or is it? Or is she screaming out loud, has her horror made it outside of her? Before, she was looking at Nona, but the thing she sees now is - meat.
And this is not even the worst of it. This is only opening the cover of a book that cannot be shut.
As if from hot coals, Waltaquin rips her hands away and struggles for the bat she left leaning against her leg, stumbling with uncharacteristic panic. She is too, too close.]
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no subject
There's a wedding. Two of his followers. It pays attention. The love is there, and maybe that could save them. He is their best man. It pays attention.
It's barely a blink before morning comes, far less than that really, and it's barely a blink before the richest men in the world make their escape. He threatens to nuke it, telling the governments and the self important humans that their systems and fortunes don't matter, that they are to be left to die, that he is not to be fucked with. The thing he has fought so hard to protect, he will destroy it before he sees it abandoned. It still loves Him.
Deep in the laboratory where it all started, a woman comes to him, one of his friends, a priest who has lived her life with a fanatical faith to a god that does not exist. But she found a new god. And she tells Him that she's solved it. What it has truly given Him, and how to unlock it's true potential.
And she takes the nine millimeter pistol, an instrument of murder created from It's bones and flesh, and she shoots herself in the head.
It's hard to comprehend what happens next. Only that it hurts. The Earth has no nerves, no pain receptors, but it still bleeds when it is hurt, and now? Now, it is screaming. The men who are overbloated in their own wealth escape, and he breaks, and he will never come back. Every death that follows is fuel for His vengeance. All ten billion of them. The acts of someone who has stopped caring about saving you. The acts of God.
The Earth dies. All at once. It never once comprehended what was it's own lifeblood, what was the mere basis for it's existence. Until it did. It's siblings die too. The colonies are sacrificed and wiped out, any faint trace of life is snuffed out. All to make them pay.
All because He cannot let it go. All because you cannot let it go.
When he finds it, when it starts to reawaken into the result of His crime, a revenant of such catastrophic size that even perceiving it is maddening, being touched by it feels like being flayed alive by something greater and more incomprehensible than it is possible for human eyes to perceive.
A resurrection beast. A monster. A ghost that runs on pure grief and hatred.
And when he finds it, he creates a body. A doll. A barbie. And he forces it into her, under the impression that he could save it from becoming what it truly is. When it looks up at him, it can see it's face through the light on his eyes, and she thinks it's disgusting. An ugly monstrosity. She sees the golden light of his eyes fade, and be replaced by her own eyes. Jet black, as empty as the cold vacuum of space. As hateful as a dying star.
She's a body now. She's meat. She's a monster and a sin. She looks at him with trembling fear as she perceives her new eyes. His golden, luminous eyes are now in her sockets. He's hurt her. Irreparably. And he's made her into a hideousness.
And the first words that come screaming out of her mouth are what would become her name many millenia later.]
N̶̜̎͂̋̿̐͗̎͋́̽͝ǫ̴̛͔͙̠͓͇̗̟̞̲̒̏̇͛̅̂̾̇̑̊ ̴͔̫̼̺̳̖̯̗͎͉̼̘̥̄͛̎͌̓̅̓͊́͒̾́͆͜ṉ̵̤͕̫̘̺̿̓͗ǫ̶̡͕͉̺͉̒́ ̷̺̯̥͓̰͇͎̻̪͙̗͓̜̿́̄̂̈́̋̓͜n̸͈̜͎̰͉͔̗͚̊̑̓͑̇̍͐̇͜͝͝͝͝ȯ̷̧̡͍͙̩̭̺̼̥̝̙̥̈́̄͗̽̔̿̇͘ ̵̡̨̨̛̫̗̙͓̲͓̘̬͂̏́̅̀̀͆̆̕͝n̸̘̮̟̮͉̣̦͙̗̫̝̬̮̙̈́͒͐̽ơ̶̢̦͔͉̻͈̪͌͒̆̃̌̉̌̈́̂͜͝͝ͅö̸̱̺̱̟̙͙͈̫͚̱̦͉̆̀͜ͅo̸̮̬̹͚̖̼͓͓͗͊̃̀̓̏͆́͛̊̉͐͆͘͜͝!̸̟͕̖̟̖̭͎̟̻̤͙̳̗͗̏̊̂͌̀͝!̸̮̏̉̅!̶̢̛̛̟͇̘̬̼͍͔̮̦̱̫̀̐̏̿͗̅̀͘͘ͅͅ
[She's inconsolable as she looks at the Necromancer. And as she becomes almost comprehensible, Waltaquin will see the truth. Nona is Alecto. Nona is a creature created from pure grief, and pain, and rage, and hatred. The collection of billions of souls all crying out before being snuffed out by the hands of the one who loved her the most. To her, there is no difference between the man who became God and the girl braiding her body's hair. To her, there is no difference between love and hate.
She still loves them.
And Alecto will devour them both.
The memory fades out then, leaving Alecto to stare in open-eyed shock as she remembers what she should never have remembered.
John loves Alecto.]
no subject
At least this way it is just another curse thrust into a soul full of them.
So it burns her, Alecto's love that is hatred that is a star that burned out of existence millions years ago and is still a pin of light in the sky (because she knows light years now, somehow, inexplicably, an idea she does not have the science for). Everything is in pain, and everything is screaming.
The scream in the memory is not as soul-wrenching as if it had been turned on her in the waking world. Or is it? Or is she screaming out loud, has her horror made it outside of her? Before, she was looking at Nona, but the thing she sees now is - meat.
And this is not even the worst of it. This is only opening the cover of a book that cannot be shut.
As if from hot coals, Waltaquin rips her hands away and struggles for the bat she left leaning against her leg, stumbling with uncharacteristic panic. She is too, too close.]