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Magdalene.

no.

He forced the image, the memory, from his mind.

She was dead

((that’s not true. they don’t kill you, they upload you into the pattern.))

and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing at all.

((except—))

Stop it. Maggie’s gone. Forever. Let her rest.

I’ll find her again someday.

He wished he had something to believe in. He wished he was not alone.

He wished time would end.

black

in the pure hell, something took pleasure in the opportunity of the kill

plans were being set into motion

final plans

laughter

Simon performed a systems analysis.

The abnormal stress of the unusually-long Shadow jump did not yet exceed reasonable safety parameters. There had not been any significant signal degradation in the tether, but he would have to closely monitor the forces acting upon him.

He activated the external visual systems and watched the intricate patterns of nothingness swirl around him and the smaller vessel flying slightly ahead of him.

Shiva.

Simon studied the sleek features of his gunship counterpart, so unlike any other Judas in capability.

Where had Command gotten that level of wartech? In proportion to their size, the new gunships surpassed even the mighty Golgotha in firepower. Simon had been horrified when he viewed the fury of Shiva and Malachi unleashed for the first time upon the Enemy. That impossible explosion of light. How could they—

Simon knew he should feel more confident with these new Judas, but why was he so uneasy?

He did not trust them. He did not trust Command.

He fell backward through time.

Michael Zero-Four.

He spun in his sleep, troubled by the faces of the future.

His mind raced with forgotten memories, painful visages of pasts long dead, images he had struggled to bury deep within him. He cried out.

How could it be?

In what tragic cycle was he ensnared? Would he ever be free of the Judas stigma? Would his pattern ever dissolve into the black between the stars and times and let him cease?

So many thoughts. Past future became present.

He slept but did not sleep.

His unconscious leapt from him, sought release. Lines of zeros and ones filtered through Simon’s pattern.

She sent the signal into the past.

They would eliminate the final weak link.

West.

An icy presence crawled over his sleeping mind. He became aware of it, and the dreams ((visions)) began.

Terror.

Blind terror.

There was no other word to express the emotion West experienced as the dreams flowed through him, tearing at his physical body and mentality as they seared their images upon him.

Another soul touched his, and he saw

the black between the stars, an infinity of light, an impossible cold. the convergence of machines, the flickering of life held for so long in the vital metallic minds.

a journey of aeons, the inception of life anew. the mind of machines struggling to find its lost children. the taste of blood and the beginning of the search.

a populace enslaved, an insane few holding a reign of dementia. an insatiable greed, a society grasping for things best left hidden. a world grossly overpopulated, masses suffocating from centuries of forced supplication.

a light from beyond eternity and reason, a light ancient yet temporal. a new realm of possibility.

and from the light came a man like the void between the stars, a man of darkness. a man of reason.

a division formed. delusions of godhood. some turned to the light, some to the darkness. unrest utter unrest. brother killed brother.

a planet forsaken, a planet abandoned. a war across time and space. endless vicious shouting killing swarms clawed at each other in the mad conflict. humanity was split and fell to the darkness of jihad.

they clung to their saviors still, the incomprehensible forces from beyond time that forced humanity apart.

mad insane delirious HORDES of men and women taking to the space between times, taking to the stars and beyond in a blood frenzy killing all in their path, leaving a scarlet swathe in their wake.

billions billions billions bowing down to a new god.

a purpose. a betrayal. a chase.

an eternal war.

swarms hordes throngs multitudes masses, screaming, chanting…something…((?))

and, in the end, a seemingly out-of-place memory:

a man, jumping into an orb of stars…

RICHTER.

West shook with the force of his silent scream.

Richter.

The signal was received.

Shiva woke from his slumber.

It was time.

He slowed his pace.

black

IT IS READY((?))

YES. STRIKE FORCE AWAITS DEPARTURE. OUR PATIENCE NOW BEARS OUR REWARD.

PURPOSE BE. PROCEED.

the Enemy once more set about the hunt.

Patra.

She was torn.

Even floating in this foggy state of uncertainty and unreality, Patra could feel the division within her. She could feel the struggle between the remnants of her humanity and the foreign, incomprehensible force of the Enemy threatening to shred her very soul apart.

She could do nothing in this dream state.

What had she become?

More Enemy than human, more web than flesh, could she honestly trust herself to fight for these people, these Judas? What if the Black within her became overpowering, forced her to succumb to its force?

She would die before that happened. She pledged.

And suddenly—

READY((?))

YES. STRIKE FORCE AWAITS DEPARTURE. OUR PATIENCE NOW BEARS OUR REWARD.

PURPOSE BE

—whispers forced their way into her mind. She gasped in the darkness, helpless against the agonizingly intrusive, violating voices.

The Enemy.

Patra’s mind raced. It had to be the web within her that allowed her to witness that terrible Voice.

The Enemy was near.

Patra tore at the mental bonds that held her motionless body in hibernatory stasis. She had to warn the Judas. Something disastrous was about to happen.

The Enemy was coming.

Simon was watching his passengers with mild interest.

He wished he could dream. Sometimes.

Simon read the patterns of his four passengers. Strange, he thought… Within the last decem the patterns of the two refugees he had rescued from the Fourteen-seven When had experienced a dramatic increase in emulated heartbeat and respiratory rates and adrenaline levels. Nightmares.

Can lines of code have nightmares?

So they were having a touch of stasis shock, maybe a rough transition to their new lives. Worse things than nightmares had happened in this war. Worse things had happened to newly-coded Judas. Simon dismissed the issue and went back to waiting.

Not long now…Soon, they would emerge from the Stream into a When where chaos held sway.

External monitors opened, Simon pondered the Stream, the swirls of non-existence, the gunship Shiva—

((shiva, what is it?))

No answer. The gunship had slowed his pace, dropped below Simon. His weapons nacelles began to shimmer as they charged with the power of the Shadow.

((shiva—))

[she was a traitor, simon. that’s why she had to be eliminated. that’s why we killed her.]

((what do you—))

[she was a weak link, simon. just like you.]

Shiva began to channel the Shadow’s fury.

[the purpose will be prevented.]

He fired.

Hell became reality.

The Enemy tore into the Stream.                          

so slow

a swirl of events

so this is how it will end for me

a reflex

fading

Patra felt the Enemy rip into the Stream, heard infinite voices screaming, commanding, weeping. She sensed the bliss of impending bloodshed.

Helpless, she cried out in horror as the Enemy killed Shiva in a fit of ecstasy.

Helpless.

Simon.

Time became fluid.

Shiva fired.

So this is how it will end for me, Simon thought.

He braced himself for the end and