Beyond Infinity: The Convergence

The Epicenter, The Playwright

It was a miscarriage, and so the waters of still birth exploded from that little pocket of warped space. It spilled from the vat like a gorgeous fall, only that which left it was the filth of man. It was as black as the chasms of man's singular mind, and just as condescending.

If not all else that the woman had done was enough, the games she had played in his mind made him dive once more. There was only one problem though, he no longer had any fragment of his humanity to lose.

As such, from that pool of darkness, he'd rise as if being pulled. His eyes, if one were present to peer into them, pitch black, thankfully, he was able to control the force. All that he had brought with him of no choice of his own, all that water, all that pain, he'd absorb it.

The place began to drain, all of that darkness making its way inside of his new perfect, yet flawed body. As such all the damage was visible, everything was fine really. All other vast were intact, the floors were fine, electricity, mechanical contraptions, but there was still one problem.

The vats were empty of flesh, the tables picked clean, and the cages without ruckus. All organic matter, all of it, was gone, as for its destination, there was only one possibility. August stood still for a while, unable to move as he got accustomed to his new body, but eventually, he'd take full control.

The black from his eyes like a mist, would clear, and his crimson eyes would return, a slight glow. His body would be altered, or rather, his head, he'd make it look like him, hair and all, but only there. The doors would eventually open, and as the man saw this, he walked towards them.

They'd all stumble backwards, tripping over each other, all except one. August would stop in front of the woman, Sky, she did not retreat, but nor did she advance. Her demeanor, one of strength and composure, was all but a fickle façade in the eyes of an idea, even a new born one. He saw it, the abstract, that which was, but could not be, truly, for it could never be measured, nor quantified, emotions. It oozed from her like a heavy fog, a weary blue and melancholic purple.

They stood in silence for a while, but then the man would take charge of the series of events. He reached for his face, or rather, what was behind it, and so his hand passed through it like water. He'd take hold of the thing, no larger than the sixteenth slice of a mustard seed, not even as thick as a hair.

He held out his hand, she reciprocated the gesture, because she knew exactly what it was, she had put it there. He'd let go of the thing, and it'd fall through the woman's palm, burning through it, with arcs of chromatic energy as if it wasn't there. Yet, she never flinched, weakness, that was not an option.

So, even when she found herself face to face with the monster she had helped to create, her heart skipped no beats. Her feet dangled above the ground, held by a force she could not control, and yet she thought herself the person in control.

"I learned a lot down there... you're human too, aren't you... queen—" He'd be allowed no more words.

The doors would shut behind them, and by a device she had engineered herself, she countered his control over the natural world, over gravity, bringing herself back to the ground.

"Not another presumptuous word out of you... so... she told you...?"

"She told me a lot actually... you were there, when the ship crashed... when Selina became Sonata... when a child... became a god... how old are you... really...?" He looked off to the side, peering into the past.

"She must have had a reason... she better have... so I'll take you to her, just like you wanted." The woman smiled.

"And if she didn't... have a reason... if she didn't... what can you even do...?" August would look her in the bloodshot eyes.