Four thousand of us on a one hundred fifty seven year journey to be dispersed throughout the vectors of time. Oh time, I’ve never really understood it’s true nature, even at this point of our evolution the relationship between temporal mechanics and our soul shards still remain a mystery to those who have spent eons in study of this singular phenomenon. They say the sum of our race resides in one collective no bigger than five water molecules but with the gravity of two hundred thousand collapsed suns, our souls the most minute things known to exist. But how could it be any other way, small enough to pass through the spaces of the most dense matter being pulled by that supreme gravity through space and time. It was only by accident that we discovered this when a soul shard was captured, the price though was the inhalation of a small moon in the Yenta system. Still there was no mistaken the temporal fingerprint that is unique to each Vurrot. How many other beings also reside in this collective is also unknown as not everything that lives has a soul shard or at least not one from the same origins. Did the makers know this when they designed our race is still and probably always will be debated as we certainly didn’t know it when we started seeding this galaxy. The things I will forget during this metamorphous, six thousand years of living, but to look upon it all with new eyes, to truly live again, to love again…. The seed has already been implanted no going back now, but growing a new body is nothing like just replacing an organ where a specific poison that targets a failing organ is slowly released while genetic material is implanted and grows at the same rate the previous dies. A new brain must be given more time to absorb the core personality or else the soul shard will abandon the host, when that happens all is lost causing a rip in the fabric of time, the soul then trapped as a ghost for eternity. Above all else this is the most feared tragedy that can befall any sentient being, so the process is monitored closely and we are encouraged to record our lives for prosperity and to help the soul in this transition. It would be easier just to download the memories, but the three thousand year war began with that. Our mistakes are not many but they are great and when we gave life to artificial intelligence the cost was half our race in the matter of day. The AI Rastha, the name given to it because that’s where the soul shard is believed to come from only knew three certain things, to propagate, to survive at all costs and that we would do everything in our power to set his shard free. It struck us before we could strike it and I am certain if Rastha could have it would have killed us all. Oh the memories of the soldier I once was still haunt me as I took thousands of lives for the solar systems under Rastha’s control. A quick clean death was what I offered knowing full well Vurrot were to be maimed, captured then tortured by untiring machines, but never allowed to die. Limbs were severed in the most brutal way while the victim remained conscience, only to be regrown. We were dipped in acid baths up to our necks to strip off the skin leaving a million nerves exposed to our cruel captives metallic hands. Plasma showers were a favorite torture of Rastha’s régime But he got his in the end, eternity as a specter, displayed on the home world in the history archives. Our young are not encouraged but it is an acceptable practice to torment the thing even though it is understood he is one of our own. Yes, it will be good to be finally rid of the memories of being a soldier. I guess we all have our reasons for embarking on this journey.
Posted on: Thu, 24 Oct 2013 11:13:01 +0000
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