The Omniman

Student Number: 21142336

We run and run Learning the lessons The many are one Chasing the Essence What is it ? What is it-When we meet, we shall find Our curiosity keeps us-In this eternal bind

For a long time Subdeus watched The Essence. The glimmer of light, effervescent among the trees, fleeting in the shadows but undoubtedly there. And yet when he reached for the tantalising
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glow, the promise of some sort of enlightenment, it vanished, like the ethereal.

He did not know why it was there, or what exactly it was, but steadily its significance dawned upon him. Like most important things, it was something barely noticed there but always there. In fact, it reminded Subdeus very much of the Dome. The luminescence was similarly haunting, powerful but with a fragile beauty. Perhaps that was from where it came?

But ponderances of deeper meaning were not required; all he needed to do was to follow. Taking a step, he noticed a brief flutter. The Essence seemed to flap a set of wings with the rapidity of a hummingbird, the hasty beating a call to chase.

Another step, and once again the Essence moved, ever so slightly.

As he tensed his muscles and lurched forwards, the Essence took flight.

His legs powered on, whipping the dust around Subdeus heels. Each second he grew faster, the rushing wind leaving a cyclone in his wake. And yet the Essence sped up accordingly, such that it was always just out of grasp. The peculiar thing was that Subdeus was not tiring. The legs accelerated, became nothing but blurred wheels, the township around him now a blaze of lines, shape was forgotten, distorted. But no exhaustion overcame him.

The Essence shot upwards, silhouetted golden against the dirty orange sky. In desperation, Subdeus jumped at a window sill then pushed against it, jumping back and forth between two

opposing walls, making his way to the roof.

Subconsciously, he realised that no human had ever done that before, that he was growing beyond human. With sudden and unnatural strength, he grasped a skyscraper railing with one hand and leapt across onto the adjacent building.

The Essence spiralled across the rooftops, a vortex of light speeding through the city; Subdeus soaring behind in elegant and powerful jumps. And there, majestic in the distance as they journeyed to the outskirts of the city, man and essence, encompassing the sky in its immensity, was the enigmatic face of the Dome. Indecipherable symbols danced and spiralled slowly around its surface, black against the swirling aureate.

Subdeus feet landed on the ground and in the corner of his mind the realisation came upon him that he was no longer in the city, but in the wasteland beyond. From rock outcrop, to plateau, to jutting precipices, he pursued, all the while growing faster and stronger but never gaining an inch on the Essence. The eight swords surrounding the Dome, without history and immobile, became visible as he approached. The hilts looked down upon the dust at their feet and the blades mirrored the surrounding, red soil.

He stepped down. The Dome seemed to curve towards him as he ran across the plains towards it. Flying straight ahead, the Essence shot through the emptiness.

He was finally gaining on it, they were almost upon the impenetrable Dome, the Essence would

be trapped.

A certain sense of will permeated his body, he was still picking up speed and now the Essence was a hands reach away.

Something caught his leg and despite all his new strength, despite all the power that surged through him, there was nothing to stop him falling hopelessly to the ground, the impact sending him rolling in the dust. When he looked up his eyes searched only for the Essence; feeling despair, feeling the weight of inevitable failure.

There it was! But he looked in astonishment as the Essence flew through the Dome as if it was water, ripples calmly spreading across its surface.

A wall that did not yield to the strongest of mans weaponry had been penetrated by what was, in essence, a bird. He pumped his fists into the wall, feeling something like unearthly rock against his knuckles, feeling the force of something unbreakable. He gave up.

He turned, seeking the cause of his fall, knowing by some sense of foreboding that it was somehow planned. Fate is an excuse for the coward he thought; the knowledgeable always know there is a purpose.

And there, his eyes narrowed at what he saw, his heart began to pump faster, the adrenaline that had only moments before seeped away returned just as quickly.

A figure in a grey cloak stood before him.

Its face was not hidden by a hood, purely because it did not seem to have a face, nor did it seem to have a body. It appeared as if it were a floating cloak, come to meet him. In anger at the misfortune it had caused, Subdeus lunged at it, but with apparent ease it seemed to teleport metres away. And then after he briefly wiped the tears from his eyes, he looked up to see it was gone.

Who are these that stand Oblivious to the darker days? They know not that they look on a Perfect world with imperfect gaze Enter a world And walk among Minds so ancient And yet so young

Subdeus lived alone not because he had to, but because he chose to. A solitary man is a thinking man.

Presently, the dome was on his mind. How was he to break through its impregnable surface?

What stopped him last time? No real thing could disappear like that cloak, he thought. And for the first time Subdeus came to believe, from some mysterious intrinsic knowledge, that what he saw was the manifestation of his very own Doubt.

The Doubt, a floating cloak of his own hollowness. Therefore he reasoned, the key that would get him through would logically be his very own will.

Now Subdeus was not foolish. He reasoned that a mere metaphysical concept such as will would not shatter a very real barrier. But from what happened on the last chase, the development into (for want of a better description) a beyond-man in every respect, Subdeus had reasoned that this caused the physical birth of his Doubt and as such it may be possible to construct a reality from his will, that he may use to overcome his hindrances. Greater men have greater obstacles he thought, yet in turn they are also equipped with better weapons and he had only his mind to resolve the Doubt.

Subdeus resolved to penetrate the Dome. Even if something were to happen to him, no one would remember who he was. Fear presupposed the lives of the inhabitants of this world, still too young for a history. The world was too hard for the softness of friendship. People would flock to the swords of the Dome, and there supplicate themselves before its Mystery that had been there since the beginning of time, as much a part of the world as the mountains and the plains, yet all the more powerful and sacred. Resources were scarce; humans

resorted to scavenging for food and ores; the treasures of an ancient race were dug up here and there, with the lucky few who found them ascending the harsh and forgiving social heap. The world was one of suspicion, of hard fought survival, of an ageless technological advancement where anarchic tools blended with gargantuan beasts of steel.

He looked out the window. Just as he had envisaged in his mind moments earlier, The Essence once again soared pure against the dim, red sky, beckoning him.

***

As the Dome grew closer, Subdeus became increasingly aware of a new sensation. His growth of speed had surpassed the feeling whereby one feels they are accelerating faster, and had now expanded so that everything else seeming to slow down.

The Essence was nearly upon the Dome.

Subdeus willed himself to greater speed and for the first time, began to feel some sort of physical stress. Was there a limit to himself? Flashes of a grey cloak became progressively more frequent.

The Essence began to pass through the Dome, the first ripple reverberating across the surface. Time seemed to temporarily stop.

With a yell of self-induced agony, the raw hurt of determination, he pulled his body to a new extreme. He closed his eyes at the pain, the flashes of The Doubt subsided with it until eventually he looked up and it was gone.

The Essence was barely moving an inch at a time now, yet only the tip of its wing was visible. The floating symbols of the Dome were still; the wind thundered in his ears as his legs blurred. Birds in the sky were immobile against the brown-tinged clouds, frozen as if in a moment of memory. And yet he moved on as if ripping through a fabric of time to find that the universe itself was but a painting.

He approached the Dome, serene in stillness, but upon grasping distance, the Essence had just passed through. He followed, as he must.

Closing his eyes, he felt a somewhat smooth sensation, velvety to the point of liquidity, but at the same time entirely dry. The next moment it was gone.

Subdeus opened his eyes and stared. He blinked. He turned around, then continued to spin, his eyes wide at the sudden unexpected majesty which he beheld.

Golden shafts of light danced across his vision. The interior of the Domes walls was something like a comfortably bearable, all encompassing Sun. Before him lay a road that seemed at one with nature, evidently going in one direction and yet naturally twisting to and fro as if it were a shifting river of thinly laid sand. A tremendous ceiling of light, the interior of the Dome stretched

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over the horizon, his enhanced vision still unable to trace out its limits. Evergreen trees suffused the landscape with an emerald tinge, the grass was unrestrained in its spread but perfectly kept from unruliness. All manner of vegetation, each with a deducible practical purpose blended with a pleasantly refined look, dotted the sight before him. Animals, all slender and delicate, familiar yet unearthly, drifted in front of his eyes, weaving through the green, each different from the previous one.

Splendid towers rose in the distance, their zeniths reaching the very top of the Dome, their glow far-reaching and beauty palpable to the eyes. Amongst the trees and hills Subdeus could not see the structure to which they were attached, but understood that it had to be immense and a place of power.

Yet most peculiar and magnificent of all were the contraptions, flying, walking, gliding, hovering, sliding across his view, all foreign to him, their designs as if intricately woven of metals, lustrous in the bask of the Dome. Operating one of these devices was a strange man. His skin was tanned and his thin body sculpted with lines of muscle. Dark hair curled about his shoulders, his beard cloaked his chin. Upon noticing Subdeus, he steadied the machine till it settled above the soil which it was examining.

You are from the Outside. The voice betrayed no curiosity or surprise. It was not a thinly disguised imploring question either, but a simple statement of fact.

Subdeus did not know what to say.

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The man returned to his work.

My name is Subdeus.

The man turned around, I see.

Who are you, and what is this place?

I am Hyne, and as you must know, this is the Dome.

There was silence. Hyne turned his attention back to the machine.

Subdeus continued, I did not mean what is this. Its obviously the Dome, but what I meant was, whose land is this? How does it work?

It is the Dome. That is what it is called. The land is not possessed by anyone. It is not anyones land. It is all of ours.

Subdeus was beginning to tire of these mind games. He asked, How can such a society possibly exist?

Our knowledge is small, yet it is far. Each of us specialises, each of us contributes to the

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knowledge of the wider will, the will of the Mirakon.

The Mirakon?

The Mirakon, the wider will.

Is this Mirakon a god of sorts? A religious entity?

Hyne shrugged. It is the wider will, the unified consciousness. I do not comprehend talk of gods or entities.

So it is not a being?

The Mirakon is the wider will, Hyne repeated, emotionlessly.

Sighing, Subdeus realised the futility of continuing the conversation. Evidently talking to someone whose entire mind revolved around subjective philosophies was no means of garnering vital information. After several minutes of introduction, he still had virtually no understanding of where he was or the society in which he had entered.

So what do you do, Hyne? What function do you serve in the Dome?

I learn. Between these trees is my academy, where I explore and educate myself unto the

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knowledge provided to us by nature.

Laughing, Subdeus asked, Surely you would have learned all there is to know in a day, let alone several years! This is your job?

Within a centimetre of dirt there is knowledge infinite, enough to learn so as quench the thirst of a scholar such that he seems as if a master.

To be a man of the world, is greater than to be a master of a centimetre of dirt.

But, the centimetre of dirt is in itself a world.

And within this world, will be infinite other worlds as this is to ours?

Indeed, and so we exist to search for the infinite.

Id rather search for something I can have. Then turning around, Subdeus walked away and Hyne resumed his tedious task of being a king of infinite space.

Why do we seek it With pain and anguish try

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Only for the inevitable failure And the moment we die-Why do we unite Only to divide? Because I told you so In the secrets I confide

As Subdeus continued, he went past many other people like Hyne, so engrossed in the most trivial tasks that he wondered about their continued practical existence. A society of learning was ideal, he thought, but how would it function?

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And yet what was he to be but disappointed? For each being he came across was the same as Hyne, corrupted, as he now felt, by the perfection of the Dome which they inhabited. Their knowledge was too narrow in the specifics of their obscure and, irrelevant field of knowledge. Bending to the ground and letting the even grained soil run through his fingers, he noted that this was what had made Hyne a scholar. That the leaf that fell from the evergreen tree above his head was the bastion from which another such sage drank the ambrosia of knowledge. That the soft wind that were the silhouettes of the playful spirits of nature, were analysed by a learned man he had met and then forgotten, for he was the same as the others. So this was progress. To know more about less and to know less about more. To forget the multitude and lose oneself in the infinite depths of one. And for what? All for the sake of The Mirakon.

The Mirakon. The wider will, the collective consciousness, the web upon which this intricate beauty rested. But knowing this, he still knew nothing about what it was. It flowed through their minds, through the breeze and waters to satiate the desires of the Dome Dwellers, so as to make them obsolete to themselves. At the behest of this force, they had become nothing.

Puppets. Puppets that had filled Subdeus with a tedium unbefitting such a world of delights, yet entirely appropriate for a man who could think. As the gold of the Dome surface inverted with the glistening dark, night shifted into being. Subdeus espied a lake and resolved to explore its depths for perhaps the underwater creatures might give him the first sincere signs of life. The water was much like the smooth exterior of the Dome, perhaps heralding another world.

***

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The water swirled and bubbled pristinely about him. It was cool and crisp against his skin, shifting around his body like clear velvet. Subdeus was struck by the splendour of the situation. The beauty. The surface rippled steadily. He turned around wide-eyed, appreciating the new and yet ancient world around him. Subdeus dived back in, the serene waters enveloping him in a dream world.

Hearing a voice in the distance, he powered through the plethora of celestial fish and other creatures above him and broke through the surface. Droplets sparkling from his eyelashes; he shook his head free of much of the dripping water and looked around.

A woman drifted before him, as if standing on an invisible moving platform several feet beneath the mirrored surface. Subdeus was startled by how ideal she seemed, as if the matter of dreams had coalesced into one form, at once beautiful and powerful. There was something vaguely familiar about her and he felt that there was a purpose behind their meeting. Yet the serene perfection of the lake, and the fantastic form of the woman were overshadowed by her dark eyes, mirrors to darkness.

You are from the Outside, she said, unable to hide a palpable curiosity. The subtle emotions that were at odds with the banality of the rest of her people took Subdeus by surprise. Her pleasant countenance was one he had seen many time within his travels of the Dome, but the eyes..

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Your name?

Does it matter? A name means nothing, it is a word and nothing more.

On the contrary, it can mean everything, if you make it so.

Well then, at your insistence, call me Peren. You are Subdeus, as I have heard.

Word moves fast here. Because it is less burdened with meaning, as you may not understand.

Peren moved closer so that she was now directly in front of Subdeus, her eyes looking up, she began to whisper, I do understand. You are indeed peculiar, but for some reason, the first person to ever make sense to me. Come, let us teach each other. I will teach you of our ways that are the illusion of life and you will teach me your way, the true way.

***

Love does not come from the heart, but from the mind. The currents of the lake snaked in strange patterns as the intricate bonds of friendship wove their complex web. Time dissolved itself to slow drops. For two who thought of freedom, of emotion, of themselves, Subdeus and Peren began to learn of the ways by which they could attain true liberation. Peren now understood the ways of humanity realizing that she was Peren, and not yet another Dome Dweller.

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You understand, Peren. You feel. You are the one that must loosen the chains of perfection, to make your society one not at the mercy of the Mirakon.

Peren then sighed, the liveliness of her dances in the lake dissipated. Turning around, Subdeus noticed a sadness in her eyes that could not be belied by the insistent smile upon her face.

I am not that one, Subdeus. I may be another in the future, but for now, that is not the case. I cannot challenge him. To his astonishment, tears began to flow, the first tears he had seen and most likely the last he would ever see, from a Dome dweller. Despite this, there was a nobility to the way Peren forced strength within her voice, and it rang loud and clear, The Mirakon knows all and my time has come.

But now I understand my purpose, your purpose. Help me to find the Mirakon, and defeat that which haunts me with its dark presence in this world of light. Then your own fear will dissipate. What is it you want? Why is it that you do not enjoy this perfect world alongside your people?

I desire an imperfect world, one of pain, one of struggle, one of hardship, of emotion. I have sought purpose, Subdeus. A perfect world is where every purpose has been achieved, meaning there is no purpose left. I am not meant for such a world. That is why I have not yet perished, despite my opposition to the Mirakon. I still have a purpose, and irrespective of whether the collective will desires it to be so, they know it. That is why I still have life and being.

Indeed, a perfect world is a purposeless one. I have seen your people. They live by a wider will,

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not knowing that they are the parts of it that make it exist.

They do know, Subdeus. They know all this. But they do not want to know it, and that is the problem. Tomorrow, we will begin to cleanse their minds of the detritus that has possessed them for so many years. But for now, you must rest. Seek a place to stay tonight, far from the eyes of any Dome Dweller, and far from the sense of the Mirakon, though it may be impossible.

Turning around, Subdeus powered through the water, feigning some sort of confidence, yet a sense of foreboding could not be shaken away. He began to doubt.

Swivelling back around, he saw Peren dive under the water and a grey cloak plummet straight after. Following the figure, Subdeus explored the depths of the water. Many hours later, he arose from the surface of the lake, not because his now supreme lungs had become exhausted, not because his limbs were wearied but because the search had been hopeless. He had found neither Peren, or the accursed Doubt. He thought of her tears, and those eyes, and feared for her life.

Am I within Or am I without?
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Am I assurance? Or am I Doubt? Do we die in life Or do we live in death? All we know Is we chase in every breath

Morning arrived and Subdeus still stood on the shore. Presently, he clenched his fists, knowing that he possessed something that would give him great power. Not that of his ever-growing strength speed and intelligence but something far deeper and innate. His humanity. Wielding this force, he would enlighten the Dome. He felt it more strongly now, this ever-growing purpose.

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***

He found a man that for all he knew, could have been one he had seen earlier, for the Dome dwellers were unacquainted with identity. With the coercion of his very strangeness, he rendered the man speechless and dictated his principle of life. Yet to Subdeus horror as the man began to understand, as his eyes widened at the world which lay before his now soon to be realized dreams, a grey cloak coalesced before him and Subdeus felt himself leashed to the ground by some invisible wires and watched hopelessly as the Doubt grabbed the mans hand and dissolved him into a shadow and then, into nothing. A shadow of a human gone into a shadow of being and then finally, gone.

Subdeus raged but when his invisible chains fell away, the Doubt had already vanished. And so it persisted for each dweller he persuaded; they fell at the hands of his own Doubt.

He screamed quite pointlessly, Take me! Take me! For I am the greatest of heretics!

Subdeus possession of knowledge began to form into a bane rather than the saviour which he envisaged. At last hopelessness overcame him and despite knowing that such a mentality would only give his Doubt strength, only one hope was left at his disposal. The will within him was ebbing away, for the Doubt was almost definitely about to conquer him. Then he noticed a figure standing before him. In his astonishment, it took Subdeus several moments to realise that it was Peren was staring at him, a smile forming across her mouth.

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***

That is our purpose We search for nothing Hoping and hoping

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To create something-What is there If no one perceives? What will be If nothing is conceived?

How did you escape his wrath? I would imagine mercy is beyond such a creature.

He simply let me go, I know not why, but he has given me a freedom we will use to destroy him.

I tried to get you back, but my powers are nothing. Anger began to rush through him. He
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thumped his fist against the ground, cracking the soil beneath.

Stop, Subdeus! About your powers, it seems that your will is strong. Subdeus looked up, astonished, Yes, Subdeus, strong. You seem to have the power to manipulate reality itself. Astonishing, I had never imagined such a thing to exist.

My power has its limits, Subdeus replied bitterly, the memory of how the Doubt had so repeatedly humiliated him still fresh within his mind.

Does it? Does it really?

Everything does.

Limits themselves have limits then, so there must be something beyond.

Let us try.

Subdeus faced an enormous tree before him. He noted the thickness of the trunk and the branches that reached almost beyond his eyes. Concentrating on it, he began to test his power.

It disintegrated into dust, which in turn vanished into nothing. Focusing on it again, the tree reappeared, larger and sturdier than before, a behemoth of Subdeus mind.

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A feeling of unparalleled elation overcame him, the weight of his burdens dissipated and he felt as if not even the world could hinder his ascent. Raising his arms gradually, he spread his fingers. Then Peren covered her eyes, from the blinding glow that dominated her vision at that moment, as if the fires of a hundred suns were born before her. The aura steadily decreased then and she could make out Subdeus, the wings of a legendary griffin spreading from his flanks, climbing into the sky with powerful beats of his wings.

Presently Subdeus looked down, and realised the artificial order of the Dome. What had seemed from the ground a natural oasis was an organized arrangement of patterns, an equation of the world. The higher he rose, he saw the truth of the world as a matrix of facts, the nexus points of which formed the ideas which he beheld; the movements of each minute figure in the distance were synchronous with each other, Subdeus began to fly over the vast lake that he had swam in yesterday. He saw something golden streak past him, almost camouflaged against the colour of the sky. In an intricate dance with The Essence, he accompanied it higher.

Rising, the Dome curved above him. Subdeus sped up, rocketing towards the top. Then a flash of grey, impact and Subdeus began to fall, his wings on fire.

There was a tremendous splash into the lake and he sank, healing his wounds and easing the pain as he fell deeper. It only took a moment for him to be back in the clearing where he began, running through paths beyond space.

***

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Where do we go from here?

The Alcazar.

Alcazar?

Peren pointed into the distance, Subdeus following the path of her hand with his eyes.

In the distance were the set of towers Subdeus had seen dominate the landscape throughout his journey, golden, the tallest reaching to the roof of the Dome. They seemed to be lamps for the land around them, glistening in majesty.

What is in it? A prison?

No one knows, or if they did, there was no one to ask. I am the only one so far who has cared.

How so? It is a curious sight.

It is, Subdeus, but only if you have enough possession of your own mind to know what curiosity is. As the first ones to truly realise it, to truly wonder, we must be the first to explore it.

Subdeus looked out and as he was aware of beforehand, as if by prime instincts, The Essence

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was drifting to and fro outside. Subdeus already knew where it was going, for the Alcazar awaited.

***

The towers loomed, flinging their parapets and touching the very highest points of the Dome. The walls encircling the Alcazar rose high but were interwoven with elaborate designs glistening and overlapping into new, yet inaccessible, worlds of knowledge. Defying logic, it was beautiful in the sheer scope of its wonders, there was no space in which it could have existed, yet it was quite clearly in front of their eyes. They found the gates, immense and intricate, seemingly woven of thread but as strong as diamond. But most importantly of all, the gates were open.

Subdeus walked on, after a few seconds he realised that Peren was staggering far behind.

I will follow, Subdeus. You are the greater being whom I shall follow.

Then Subdeus stood before the doors that lead within the alcazar. Statues of ancient men adorned the arch that framed them, the ringed handles a series of symbols reminiscent of those circling the Dome itself. He navigated the corridors, saw impossible things, walked impossible paths, found impossible places, all the time running impossibly through the enormous labyrinth that he had encountered inside.

***

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Time passed, undefined, neither long nor short, for there was no knowing of whether the sun was up or down or there at all; whether the clock told truth or lie, or whether the space around him occupied was empty or full. Subdeus was aware of no bounds. This was an impossible maze, where things that one thought could not be or happened, were and did happen.

Not many people know who I am Or what I do-But I see, I hear, I feel Everything about you Where is the truth ?
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Where are the powers? Where is it all? But in these minds of ours Where is the purpose? Concealed within the mind Or is there one, Which we have left behind? I am the shattered whole, The perfection torn Who is the most doomed But the greatest born.

As if waking from a dream, Subdeus remembered Peren staggering behind. Where was she now? Subdeus began to grow apprehensive, anxiously attempting to rid himself of the thoughts of what horrors she could have encountered in her own navigation of this elaborate riddle. Presently he espied a great door of crystal and gold weaving before him, surreal images of the world recurring, spreading and spiraling away eternally within the door. A real door or a metaphysical one? To a room or through the history of the worlds? Whatever it was, he opened it with both mind and hand.

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The room was majestic, its roof made of the multitudinous and multifarious faces and prisms of purest crystal, shafts of light illuminating the floor with dancing brightness. The tiles on which he stood were themselves a cool ebony, leading further to the far wall which was an enormous window that spanned across the width of the room.

But Subdeus did not have eyes for that. Instead they were focused on the familiar grey figure standing sinisterly in the centre of the room.

He yelled and began to run towards The Doubt, pulling back his hand and feeling the firm comfort of a dagger handle in it.

Stop.

The booming voice shattered the hazy wall of anger that had pervaded Subdeus thoughts. He stopped, stunned. The dagger disappeared.

The Essence has betrayed me, it has led me to my Doubt, Subdeus uttered in resignation.

The Essence has not betrayed you, for without me you are not fulfilled. As for the Doubt, I am not yours.

So what is the Essence? And what is the Doubt?

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An aspect of my consciousness, my creation. It was made to bring you here. I required you to come the long way to show you the full extent of what I have accomplished.

Then you are.

As the being spoke, Subdeus had the feeling of words he had always known, in his heart and in his mind.

The being who has felt the pain of immunity, I am that one. The being untamed by time, and who walks the plains of his world, I am that one. The being who has seen darkness into light, and light into darkness through the prism of rain, I am that one. The being whose eyes are weary with the sight of all, I am that one. The being that is feared despite his own inevitable fate, I am that one. The being that controls reality, yet cannot control who he has become, I am that one. The being not known as a being, but the force, the will, the Mirakon, I am that one.

Then Mirakon, master of the Dome, lowered the hood of his cloak and Subdeus gasped as he gazed into his own face.

No!

You will soon know why we are so close. The bond we share will soon be explained.

Subdeus closed his stammering mouth, dumbfounded, before asking the first question in his

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head.

Why have you enslaved your people?

Enslaved? Tell me, how many do you think would not choose the slavery which I bestow upon them?

How are you to know that there is no other out there, who is becoming aware of their individual identity? Such a one, given the choice, would choose what they do not have. As humans, we will always desire that which is beyond our grasp

You forget that they are not strictly speaking in the possession of much humanity. As for Peren, she was a deliberate anomaly. The allure of love has ultimately brought you to me, the series of events pre-planned.

Where is she? Subdeus roared.

Where she is meant to be. In the mind.

So that.was all an illusion, a dream of reality? A ploy with my humanity to lure me to destruction?

Illusion? Subdeus, to what extent is anything, or anyone, truly anything more than a shadow, an

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aspect of what people have made of them? Men are the dreams of other men. People are merely the shadows of the wills that guide them.

I am more than shadow, for I am too burdened and heavy of mind. So I can assume that you similarly control the wills of every Dome dweller? Know this, I am free!

Yes.

And you are the most evil of men.

Evil? Mirakon began to laugh, Subdeus, I am manipulative, but not evil. You have seen the people yourself, are they unhappy? They live in total contentment and harmony.

They have no choice.

They do not want choice. Dont you see, Subdeus? They are satisfied with serving me, they live in what they see as the perfect world. They are happily ignorant while you and I are torturously wise. Whose fate is really more enviable? I have given them what I have not, to save them from becoming me.

The history of your world was created anew when I created the Dome. Those of sufficient Will were led to populate its enlightened land; those with weaker Will were cast out, their minds cleansed, to start anew in their quest for knowledge. And thus it was that the people of the Dome

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continued to progress, and civilisation was coerced into its rebirth outside.

But why did you make this? Why did you create the Dome, and destroy the futures of those you did not permit within?

The Dome dwellers are here for the sole purpose of harvesting knowledge. That is why only those with true breadth of knowledge and greater capacity were permitted within my power, for those of weaker Will would not pursue knowledge with such rigor, those with no desire for reason would not chase after it so readily. A peaceful, tranquil, utopic society is what they need for maximum efficiency and progress. Then, as they reap the knowledge they contribute to my own. There is no movement or thought within this Dome I am unaware of.

So you farm their knowledge?

Correct. And hence my power consequentially increases. With every small thing that they learn, my will gains a greater hold over them.

But one day there will be no more knowledge. You will have nothing left. Hynes talk of infinite worlds is nothing but the fancy of a man who has nothing to do but think.

It is not so simple. Knowledge itself is infinite. What is unknown is nothing, what is known is infinite. And Subdeus, you must learn that the knowledge we seek is never lost; it never exists till we create it. Surely if we are to perceive something as unknown, we must have conceived it

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in the first place to name it thus? Unknown is known. Perception is the eye from which conception sees.

Does that mean nothing is real then? That this is all within our minds, that reality is itself nothing?

No, on the contrary, everything is now real. The fact is, there is no unreal.

Subdeus remembered the lock, the ease with which it disintegrated at his mere thought.

Thoughts of power raced across his mind. Images of Hyne and other Dome dwellers speaking of Subdeus-the wider will overcame him. A dagger appeared in his hand and in a flash, in a movement he had foreseen and yet could not control, he stabbed Mirakon.

He looked up.

He had stabbed an empty cloak.

Swivelling around he saw Mirakon, standing calmly a few metres away, unruffled as could be in his grey cloak.

Subdeus looked down. There was no more a cloak impaled upon the tip of his sword.

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Then Subdeus felt a pain inside him, an unbearable pain that sliced at the core of his very being. He knew this was no sword or weapon. It was the hurt of realisation.

What are we? Tell me Mirakon, what are we?

And as he looked into Mirakons eyes he saw such an aching expression that he felt as if gazing into a mirror. The eternal recurrence of the image served to make the pain feel more infinite.

Mirakon sighed, The Doubt is real. You are my Doubt, Subdeus.

So all this. Subdeus summoned a ball of light into his hand then floated it back and forth, vanishing it by clutching his fist, ..all this is because of you. But how? Why?

The world, Mirakon gestured towards the window, is the conception of our will. What we deem to be truth, what we believe is necessary to create knowledge and power is created into what we call reality. The greater collective will, the unified consciousness of minds shapes what is, what has been and what will be. In our pursuit of power, our ultimate purpose, we create the world to create knowledge, which leads to an arena for power. Perfection is not what we aspire for, perfection is a means to power and so the world over time is perfected, learning grows at an accelerated pace, we know more and we know less. The cycle is infinite, and hence, so too is our purpose.

When man achieves this purpose, he condemns himself to the fate you see in me. I became the

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first Omniman, and as my Doubt, you became another.

And so we are doomed, Subdeus said.

Yes, doomed to be Omnimen. Doomed into an inevitable self-exile from humanity. Doomed into a futile and vain pursuit of power, for that is the only purpose we can discern.

Then let me overcome you. Or do you fear death?

No. But the moment I agree to my Doubt, it is no longer Doubt but my own consciousness. My doubt will be nothing, and so too shall death be nothing. You are not so much yourself, as you are me. I must complete myself by becoming one with what ultimately wants to destroy me, a cruel paradox of our existence.

That is my purpose?

Yes

I wonder why I must exist all if that is the case, to live with an unconditional slavery to your will.

No. Existence is all we have. One cannot be non-existent. The very concept of be contradicts non-existence. What you are essentially saying is that existing as non-existent is an option, an

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absurd notion. Wanting to exist is a detached matter, yet we cannot overcome the fact that we must be. He paused and then continued, You know what will happen now Subdeus.

Subdeus nodded. He had already imagined another, more powerful sword into his hand. Mirakon had done the same.

How many times have you done this Mirakon?

Eight.

Ah yes.., Subdeus felt relief at grasping at least one more thing, the swords.

Now he truly understood the nature of his fate. As long as Mirakon lived, Subdeus, as his Doubt, would never truly die. The image of his oblivious resurrected self thousands of years later, facing the same Mirakon that now stood before him, drifted across his mind.

I am sorry, Mirakon said, Understand Subdeus, our fate is not a terrible one, but a necessary one.

Mirakon pointed his sword at Subdeus.

***

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Echoes of darkness shattered by the blinding ferocity of hot white light swirled and coalesced into a vortex of colour and deafening sound. Creatures of imagination and beyond imagination flung their vast might at each other, weapons unparalleled in destructive scope came and went in the infinitesimal moment that held a millennia of struggle between the antitheses of one. Worlds were born and died in the forges of this war, worlds not to be remembered for anything else but tools in this epic clash. If a man were to see it, the wonders of the battle would be impossible to behold.

Then there was silence. The room returned as before. A single sword clattered to the ground. Subdeus collapsed and watched helplessly as his dying body crumbled into golden dust and was swept away by the winds of time.

*** Subdeus opened his eyes in a vast expanse of white, snow drifting across the immense face of the mountain before him. He heard the thousand winds flowing past his ears, and rushing up the side of the mountain to the top, from where a distant yet clear flute could be heard playing. Bewildered, he wondered where the music was coming from, whereupon the song seemed to form words to his ears.

They call me The Man with the Flute They call me the Other Some say that I am Death
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And that I am Lifes brother I have played this song for all of time And will play it on-Till The End in this land Where the spirits have gone It is the song of the Universe The story of everything A song that all will know But which only I can sing I am the arbiter, the balance I take the wills of the dead, The winds through my flute Are souls as theyve said

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At this point the music continued but the words faded away and Subdeus perceived a new pattern in the movement of winds. They began to buffet against each other violently, chaotically slamming till he noticed they had become a storm around him. Covering his face from the onslaught, still the winds flew around him, but now they began to coalesce into streams of light. Then a vision began to form before him. He felt the knowledge of The Other enter his mind. Before him was the Orb of Wills, an orb no bigger than his hands, but of infinite depth. The singularity of all wills, the united consciousness that contained all of the Universe and every will ever to be. Yet in the disorder of opposing wills, and with no control, the Orb inevitably shattered. Subdeus now envisaged infinitesimal shards, particles of light innumerable floated about him and spread far beyond the horizon of white expanse and mountains. It was the Web of Consciousness. He began to notice the tendrils forming between each shard of will, networks of consciousness of power over wills beginning to form, drawing the shards closer to those which connected to them. But Subdeus saw that there was one shard much larger than the others, with a network growing so fast and so powerfully that it began to absorb others. From it emanated a mournful song, yearning for something lost. This was the Other, the shattered core of the Orb, desperately attempting to regain its unity, to become the oneness that it had been, but had lost. Suddenly, the shard began to reverberate alarmingly, its song turned into an urgent panic and he noticed in the distance another shard begin to demonstrate growth even exceeding the will of the Other. However, it possessed a darker speck that seemed to steadily increase in size, a parasite that seemed to lessen the pace at which the shard was expanding its power.
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Mirakon. And Subdeus understood that the black speck holding the mighty will back was Mirakons own doubt, Subdeus himself. So this was the final purpose of Mirakon, the purpose which he had hidden from Subdeus. To control every will so he could make himself an unbreakable, complete core, and accomplish what the Other aspired to become.

My will is the will of all Who have come to me But I am not strong enough To defeat the enemy You must understand Only when you and he have become one Has he taken the final step to overcome me And then, his purpose is won
As the words faded along the currents of the wills of the dead, Subdeus espied a slender figure at the base of the mountain, a silhouette dancing in the snow. Transfixed in curiousity, Subdeus stepped closer, beginning to discern the face in the distance when the sudden realisation came over him. For there, whirling amidst the white expanse was Peren as Subdeus remembered her,
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unscarred from her time in the maze of impossibilities, twirling amongst the souls of the dead. As Subdeus ran to meet her, she began her intricate dance up the side of the mountain.

Ascend
Subdeus began to climb after her, yet Peren was always just out of reach. He called for her, only to be greeted by a gentle laughter and a dark flash of the eyes.

Rise
They spiralled up the mountain

Reach
The craggy surface, the beating gusts of wind and snow did not stop them. Subdeus felt the edge of the peak above his fingers and hauling himself over the final handhold, he looked around. Before him was a man facing away from Subdeus, precariously perched on the edge of a precipice, yet with no hint of concern as he continued to play his flute untroubled. Yet Subdeus did not, could not, approach him, the immense will of the Omniman before him prohibiting him from doing so.

It is now time to return To your circular fate You will not remember what I

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Have said, but I will wait See now, he calls for you A signal no one can halt Till you and he are one And thus subdue his fault.
Subdeus saw Peren on the periphery of his sight. Making his way towards her, she began to disintegrate into the drifting snow till there was a bird where her heart had been. He recalled words that Peren had once spoken I have a purpose. No, Subdeus thought, you do not have purpose, you are purpose. This time The Essence did not fly away. There was no reason for Subdeus to chase. After all, the same quest had simultaneously ended and was yet to begin. The bird flew straight at his chest; there was a burst of light and then..... nothingness. *** Nine swords lie outside the Dome in a circle. They have no dust on their hilts, because the dust swirled to form a bird to be chased many years later.

The glimmer of light was effervescent among the trees, fleeting in the shadows but undoubtedly there, holding the promise of enlightenment; a tantalising glow, the ethereal herald for the Omniman.
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