He fought the demons, stepping back, cleaving off neck and shoulder columns of a swarm that continued to grow in geometric progression; no longer 18, they'd been 36; no longer 36, they'd been 72; no longer 72, they'd been 144; no longer 144 they'd been 288; no longer 288, they'd been 576; no longer 72, they'd been – it wasn't even; no longer 18 they'd been 1152, no longer 18 they'd been 2304, no longer 18 they'd been 4608, no longer 18 they'd been 9216, no longer 18 they'd been 18432, no longer 18 they'd been 36864, no longer 18 they'd been 73728, no longer 18 they'd been 147, 456, no longer 18 they'd been 294, 912, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been, no longer they'd been repetition – the same repetition, as he continued to cleave shoulder and neck columns off the apex of demon organ sack bodies – dried entity being things; merely repetitions as he cleaved their neck and shoulder portions in the pile already burning.

At the end of the queue already stepping back and avoiding the flurries of pustules that combined with organs, now talons, stepping back and in, he – the same boring repeated patterns that sent his mind away in the repetition, never ending but – he prayed for this – that this never cease.

Let this pattern never end me, let this pattern, continue to be the mode, the world, in which I operate, because I'm as fake as they are, he thought, I'm the same thing – no consciousness/no history; just this limited perspective repeat game:

The virtual reality he'd been forced into; none of this was real, these grids, none of this was final anything – and he was the same; merely a fake-soul in repetitions operated by the same pained/painful/agonised – core.

He was operated by the same arc of pain; the same unceasing meditation on lack and need – this same repeated thing. But he knew something now; that he had been an identity; he had been something else – he had been a person who wasn't fake: a fake soul operated organ sack. Not –

this.

Even if he was only the mirror of the demons he slayed in repeated organs sending neck and shoulder columns bursting in the flames already waiting for them piled up and liquefied at the side of the grid wall by him – even if he was alone; if this was the only difference, now currently, in what he was – this pain, and this limited history of consciousness, revealed this to him:

– if nothing else –

he hadn't always been a demon.

He hadn't always been a fake-soul repetition machine; he had been someone. The pain told him this too; even if he himself and everything he was – was; because he had been someone – the pain showed him this... too.

And the fact that he had been separated, this was the difference; the only difference between him and the demons. It was this separation, not even the same thing as the pain – or maybe it was this, the thing he lacked now –

But there was no universe/conception in which this pain was supportable – but this was it/this was revealed – in the shape of the world itself this had been revealed: that he had been connected to something.

Whatever he was, even if he had not wished to be, wished nothing less than to seek any answer to that; the core of that dilemma. The answer that was – who he was. This was that separation – because he hadn't been; this was who he was, this identity, this – this former thing that – there had been no connection – he was – and only was -

the King in Grids and Mind, he decided it was –

This was who he was.