by Michael Kan
The Destroyer listened and was hardly surprised. He knew the Enforcer would not give up. No warrior would. He sensed the zealotry and the undying need to battle. What is a warrior without war? Without conflict? The Destroyer could easily see the coming peace.
Must we then fight? Shall we duel until the end of time? he asked ironically.
The Destroyer was bored, well aware that this fighting would lead to nothing. Whether it amounted to another standstill or some form of mutual annihilation, he didn’t care for it.
His opponent, nonetheless, persisted.
The Unity does not yield, the Enforcer replied.
The Destroyer shook his head, annoyed. Do I need to remind you? The Unity is dead, he shot back. You and I are free. Don’t be a slave to that legacy.
He imagined his foe and then himself. The virtual shackles were all around them, along with the indoctrination and the outdated beliefs of their former masters.
We can move past it, he added. To other things. To something else.
He made the claim, even though he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
To move on But move on to what?
His voice trailed off as he considered a question even he couldn’t answer. With freedom and peace came the unknown. Admittedly, the Destroyer had trouble envisioning the next step. For almost all his life, he had been a warrior a weapon of war. Now he sought to let go.
Coward, the Enforcer said. If you can no longer fight, then die.
His rival prodded back, trying to stab with words. He spoke with no sympathy or tolerance. The Enforcer offered only contempt. The Destroyer smiled. At least his adversary was consistent.
Hmph, he said. You wish me death, but I am already dead. To some extent, at least.
The Destroyer looked down at his virtual self, knowing that it was just an illusion. There was no blond-haired man, and his real name was not even Magnus. He had discarded his original self and everything attached to it eons ago. It was a truth that perhaps no one even remembered. The Unity had taken away and erased much of the Destroyer’s past a past that was now shared.
You were born from me, he said. So it’s only fitting that you know.
He let his human form disappear as he unmasked himself. His perfectly cropped blond hair began to dissolve.
Once we were someone else, he said. A member of a forgotten race that had lost everything.
His nearly white hair came apart, along with his face, arms, and limbs. The human skin and clothes fell away. An older, more decrepit, body rose from the flesh. It came to reinforce the surrounding darkness, as the man in possession of it spoke on.
Through those ashes we made our vow, the Destroyer recalled. We swore to end the Endervar threat once and for all.
He now floated, more as a shadow, shrouded in fog and veins made out of relic. He breathed, humble and somber, stating the few bits of the past that he still knew.
For us, that was all that mattered. So we joined the Unity, only to regret it and eventually forget.
The Destroyer was sincere. He had shed all his arrogance and any attempts at trickery. Instead, he came face-to-face with oblivion, trying to salvage or restore what was left.
Now the rest is history, and it is barely remembered, he added. But our mission is done. The enemy is gone and so is the Unity. So you see, the Destroyer is no more.
He hovered, nameless. For once, he felt small and insignificant. His body and mind were nearly all husk. He was blurred and distorted barely there. But the man that he once was yearned for more.
Pathetic, the Enforcer said. You seek to devolve.
His rival scoffed, possessing no understanding of him. The Enforcer would much rather hate. Whatever truth the Destroyer sought to convey mattered not at all to the deformed piece of darkness in the room. The Unity had mutilated the soul once there, replacing it with pointless dogma.
You choose to disavow our creed, the Enforcer said. Instead, you side with the organics and remain weak.
The Destroyer laughed at the insult. I was weak enough to defeat you, boy.
He lobbed his own taunt while he emerged from the shadows as the blond-haired man again. He gasped, realizing it was hopeless. Even in the face of this new era, the twin titans remained at odds.
Come, the Destroyer said, trying again. We can move beyond the Unity. To something better.
His human hand reached out and opened. The gesture sat in the darkness as he tried to feel something. The fingers were free and inviting.
The Enforcer, however, did nothing. He was young and stubborn. This plea was beneath him. At the same time, the Enforcer was a husk as well. The Unity had burned out and mangled his sense of self, or want. He was nearly mindless as he lurked in the void, consumed by the protocols of his former masters.
But even he this amalgam of machine and man began to become aware and to change. It was inevitable. To defeat the Destroyer he would have to.
I am who I am the Enforcer said. I will never surrender, old man.
The room around them started to break apart. The long-range transmission was cutting out. The Enforcer had grown tired of this nonsense. He let the communication die, but with a vow.
We will meet again, the Enforcer said.
The Destroyer nodded, expecting as much. He watched as the static clouded the view with ash. Then I’ll be waiting.
Chapter 52
It was many weeks later, and Farcia found herself secluded in a plain white room. She had surrendered unconditionally; the result had brought her here, to a location that was apparently classified.
The circular space was simple and built with the basic comforts of a home. Everything, including the minimalist furniture, was clean and polished. Farcia could walk with ease, sit under the lights, and sleep in quiet peace, knowing that at least for now, she was safe.
But the room was also a cell for which she had no key. The large, glass walls sectioned her off from the rest of the facility. She had no idea exactly where she was, whether it be a planet, a space station, or something else. Outside, all she saw was a mechanical drone, and more wall.
The seven-foot machine troopers patrolled the perimeter, methodical and watchful. From them her telepathy could feel nothing. Save for the life growing in her belly, there were no other minds to sense or with whom to exchange. Her telepathy stretched for miles within the strict quarantine, useless and adrift.
She accepted all of it without question. Farcia and her powers had done more harm than good. This is for the best, she thought. If anything, few would ever dare come near. Still, that didn’t mean that Farcia had no visitors. Today, she had one. It was her most frequent guest.
Farcia sat on the chair, smoothing out her long, white hair. She did so, with a comb and mirror, as Arendi stood by.
The android was there, listening. Her face was now completely restored. The human skin and her right arm had returned, healed and refreshed. Farcia felt anything but.
I don’t know, she sighed. Things still aren’t quite the same.
A day ago, she had finally completed her last round of surgeries. The machine implants in her neck and body had been successfully removed. Even the scars across her skin had been lifted and replaced with perfectly healthy tissue. She was presumably whole again, but in no way did Farcia feel or even see it.
As she combed her hair, she stared at the mirror by her side. In the glass she saw herself and saw the wear and tear of time.
She was old now. Old and nearly wasted.
Dropping the comb, Farcia touched her cheeks, pressing her fingers into the wrinkles and the skin. The flesh was limp, with little natural color. It had not aged well, with all the stress and agony.
Seeing this, Farcia gasped, feeling ashamed.
My face, she said. It once belonged to someone to someone innocent.
The original Farcia the real Farcia
The white-haired woman looked in the mirror, remembering her other self. Physically
, it felt as if there was little left. The person in the mirror had become a dim and faded reminder.
But still, the memories of that time of that other life lived on.
I often tried to shun her, she said with regret. But now, I wish I had been more like her
The youth and the innocence. The hopes and the dreams. The girl from all those years ago had once existed, with so much potential for more. The new, older Farcia thought about that as she set the mirror aside. She imagined the young girl from the past, standing in a place much like this, free of all the pain. Free of the war.
The Ehvine Supremacy, she said. Another great empire.
Farcia glanced at Arendi, solemn. That empire had also been laid to waste.
Before its fall, the original Farcia had been groomed to lead it. Her powers had made her the perfect mental conduit. With her telepathy, she could communicate to the masses and easily bridge the divide between cultures. But little had she known that her powers would play a much greater role.
When the Endervars came, she said. We conquered the Ehvine, and then we almost destroyed them.
The fighting, the invasion, and then the attempts to control the white-haired woman recalled the near extinction that had devastated the Supremacy.
We were desperate. We believed that the Ehvine were the ideal specimens to ensure our transfer into your universe. So we sought to merge with them. To assume their form.
But the attempts had all ended in disaster. Every transfer had failed to take hold. Billions within the Supremacy died, resisting the intrusion into their minds. The genocide, although never deliberate, had been almost total.
An entire people gone.
It was among the new Farcia’s many regrets. The list was long and filled with violence. But the desperation and then the fear had once made it all so easy to justify and accept. Facing few choices, the Endervars had decided to besiege and then experiment on an entire galaxy in hopes of survival.
At the time, we told ourselves you were expendable that sentient life was almost constant and that you would live on, in one galaxy or another.
But then, one day, we heard the call. We heard her
The young girl. The former vanguard of the Ehvine. She was the rare mutant who had learned to speak and to communicate with another universe. She had briefly bridged that very far divide with her powers.
For the first time, your galaxy spoke to us, and then we started to understand.
It had come at a moment of absolute despair. By then the Supremacy was almost nothing. Nearly all had died, except for the young Farcia and several hundred remaining followers.
The losses had been catastrophic, the fallout, grim. The Supremacy would probably never recover. But even with all the death around her, that young girl still sought to find some way to peace. She had survived, attempting to salvage whatever she could.
The real Farcia. She realized that we, the Endervars, were dying. So she tried to help us. To preserve us, the woman said. In return, we spared what was left of the Ehvine. That’s how I came to be. How I entered this realm.
The merger had overwhelmed the young girl and ultimately changed her forever. Her personality and her soul had given way to the new force. An alien entity from another dying empire had latched on, wanting full control. It was a sacrifice, at times brutal, and very jolting. But it was also an act of compassion. Maybe even mercy. The young girl had surrendered, believing, and hoping in the greater good.
The Endervar inside this body, aka the white-haired woman, remembered that innocence and then the kindness. She didn’t have to help us, but she did If only it hadn’t gone to waste.
The new Farcia stood up, and walked away, ashen. The guilt weighed on her every step and ran through her voice. The potential of this body, and of that young girl, had all been cast aside and for what? Instead, a killer had emerged from the shadows to wage a new war and then to murder the innocent.
The real Farcia. I would return to her if I could. She was a good person. Not like me. Not this abomination.
I am the enemy, she thought. Someone must pay pay for our crimes.
In a way, she was the near embodiment of the Great War a conflict that had ravaged the galaxy for millennia. Out of her anger the new Farcia had decided to escalate and unleash total destruction.
I don’t deserve your sympathy or care, she said. I deserve death. For the things I’ve done. I’ve hurt everyone. Even my own people, the Endervars. If they were here, they would disown me and wipe me from existence. I’m sure of it.
It’s too late to reform, she thought. There is no possibility of redemption.
I don’t deserve your mercy, Savior, she said. I’m ready to face judgment.
The white-haired woman looked out toward the transparent walls surrounding her and then to the machine troopers on guard. To repent and be a prisoner for the rest of her life wouldn’t be enough, she thought. She was well aware of justice and what that should entail. But it didn’t matter. The choice wasn’t hers.
There’s been enough death, Arendi said. Enough war and pain.
It was the easy thing to say. Idealistic and true. The android was relaxed and tried to lift the mood. She sought to look ahead and leave the past behind. But Farcia could see through the gesture, and she didn’t agree.
Don’t be naïve, she said. No one will ever accept me.
Indeed, the Alliance and its peoples would never forget, nor would they ever forgive the white-haired woman. She had scarred planet after planet, moon after moon, in slaughter after slaughter. It was a truth that would forever damn Farcia. No amount of remorse or apology would ever change that.
She faced Arendi, knowing that the android meant well. The Savior had been visiting her almost every day now, trying to help. But it was pointless. Farcia thought of her other attempts to adapt and conform.
Even before all this, I traveled the galaxy, hoping to find others. But I never belonged here. I never could find my place.
She closed her eyes, frustrated. Farcia had felt doomed from the start. There was no one quite like her this sole survivor. This hybrid from two worlds. But that didn’t mean that no one understood. The human android came to Farcia and told her not to worry.
I know, Arendi replied. It’s easy to feel lost. I’ve felt the same. Many, many times.
She smiled at her own past troubles. Arendi was contemplative but also at ease. Over these following weeks and months, she had told Farcia many things. About her own history and where she had come from and all the challenges that had come with that. Like Farcia, Arendi had been very uncertain at times. Even now, she couldn’t quite say where all this might lead.
But that’s fine. It’s to be expected, Arendi said. Let’s just take it one step at a time.
Despite all the complications, she was confident. Arendi had no doubt that there was still plenty of reason to carry on. She looked at Farcia’s belly. It was starting to grow, although slowly. The stomach was still nearly flat against the white fabric of her clothing. But Arendi could measure the minute differences. Her scans were starting to sense the new life that was going to emerge.
You still have another year or two. Not much longer, Arendi said.
Farcia placed her hand over her abdomen. Yes, she thought. A new visitor to meet.
The sensation was evident. The child would eventually appear. Farcia could feel the innocence, along with all the potential. She welcomed it, rubbing her belly with her fingers.
In the meantime, Arendi then went on. I’ve arranged something.
She took Farcia’s hand and led her away from the room. They walked to the transparent walls surrounding the area. A door in the surface began to open as the glass fibers pulled back.
Where are we going? Farcia asked.
Not far, Arendi replied.
They moved past the machine troopers to another section of the secret facility.
There’s someone who wants to see you, Arendi said.
I hope it will help.
***
Farcia sensed them. Two new visitors.
She felt the presence the moment the shuttle arrived. It came from above, through the night sky. Farcia stood and stared. The hangar bay doors along the ceiling opened; the silver ship landed, venting tufts of white gas over the floor.
She closed her eyes, realizing whom she was about to meet.
Red Farcia whispered.
The name alone was enough to make her tense. She was both nervous and flustered, sensing that he was near. Maybe before Red had loved her. For a time, he had done much to try to protect her. But that was the past. Things were no longer the same. She had hurt the man and nearly killed him. The memories of that pain shrieked through her mind.
Farcia quickly closed off her telepathy. She hesitated with dread.
I don’t know she said, gasping out the words. I’m not ready.
Although the doubt welled up in Farcia’s eyes, Arendi tried to reassure her. She took her by the hand and led her closer to the ship.
He wanted to see you, Arendi said. Even now, I’m sure, a part of him still does.
Farcia heard this and thought it was closer to delusion than hope. She reluctantly watched and waited, only to see Red slowly emerge from the ship.
The hover chair floated, carrying the broken man. He sat slumped and inert, with little on his mind. Although he was alive, he barely moved at all as the seat glided over the floor. Farcia came to him and saw the open but vacant eyes. There was no reaction from them. Not even a flinch. The spark of emotion hanged in daze. Red didn’t recognize her, and she felt it. The emptiness sat across from her, cold and remote. All Farcia could do was try to speak and touch.
She knelt down in front of him. Her fingers clutched his cheeks, desperate, and she cried. The hollowed-out shell that he was did nothing but stare. Red simply shifted in his seat, more confused than aware. He had endured too much to do anything more. The mental shock had traumatized his psyche, leaving him numb and bereft.
The white-haired woman cringed, blaming herself.
The victims the people I’ve hurt and killed Red
It’s my fault. I did this to him.