- AN - “Wake up, we’re here,” Randall’s voice softly woke Abraham from his nap. “Sleepy head.” Abraham chuckled lightly, raising his head from the headrest, and moving as much as he could his ankylosed neck and back muscles. Cars were not meant to be beds, he silently commented with amusement. Looking out of the left back passenger window, he barely caught a glimpse of mountains before all went dark as Randall’s Evropan car drove into a tunnel. “Where are we?” he tentatively asked. “I know you drugged me in the plane so that I wouldn’t know where we were heading; but I can tell this isn’t anywhere in Norr Americae. The mountains were too old.” Randall chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a millenium-old secret if I told you. The knowledge of it comes at a high price; one I wouldn’t bestow upon you.” “This is bigger than just winning an election and the country’s loyalty, am I right?” Abraham asked, partly feeling inadequate to the grandeur the plan was slowly revealing itself to be, yet partly feeling ecstatic to be considered as belonging to that plan. “Much bigger,” Randall confirmed, smiling. “I guess it's not much use to ask more questions?” Abraham said, smiling as well. “Well, why ask me? You are meeting with the ones behind it all.” Abraham nodded in understanding; but curiosity soon took over. “So who am I meeting? The founders?” “I told you, we are the founders; they are the investors. At least, that’s the best description that suits what they do.” “So what are they gaining?” “Collaboration. Our help for their help.” “Against?...” “You don’t want to know yet. It took years for Ysadora,” Randall sighed, almost in regret. “But the result, if we win… Imagine, Abraham. What we do in the months to come will shape Terra into a society that will reach for the stars and establish itself as not a divided nation, but a strong-willed and immortal Empire. Some of us has already remained strong for more than 5,000 years already. Why not tens of thousands more? It just needs strength and unity. People willing to rise to the challenges presented to them, and win, no matter how and when. And we both know how to bring that into existence.” Abraham smiled under the passion behind Randall’s words. The car suddenly stopped, and after a few seconds, Randall’s door was opened by the exterior. “We’re here,” Scott announced. Abraham noticed with puzzlement how his usual excited personality was heavily subdued by… fear? Abraham wondered as he opened his own door, Randall already getting out and straightening his suit: since when was Scott afraid of something? Even Randall was more composed than him. The trio approached a heavily fortified stone door carved within the cavern itself, surrounded by a few lights that gave off a warm orange glow. “Scott?” Randall ordered. Scott approached a panel where unknown symbols, a cross between hieroglyphs and runes, served as keypads. Scott taped a long sequence of symbols, lasting nearly a minute. What happened next startled Abraham: the door simply vanished. Scott picked up a lantern waiting in an alcove behind the door, entered, and turning back to look at Randall and Abraham with his golden eyes, waited patiently for them to follow him. Randall placed himself behind Abraham, to his left, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with me. it's a labyrinth, and we’ll get lost, and possibly killed of starvation, if we lose of sight Scott.” They entered inside the cavern entrance, which very soon turned into a narrow and sinuous dark hallway with many crossroads sparking from any direction. A subdued and patient Scott, still a matter of great puzzlement to Abraham from his small yet enough experience with him, was walking slowly, holding the lantern. He would sniff around when crossroads would appear, and then walk to one of them with confidence, Abraham and Randall closely following. As they did so for what seemed eternity, Abraham felt a warmth enveloping his being, a protection. He realized it came from Randall’s presence by his side, his hand kindly holding him in a protective grasp; that must have been what a father felt like, Abraham thought to himself. He of course wouldn’t know that feeling, since the only reaction he ever got when returning home was indifference from his parents, too busy burying themselves in their own misery. Yet, here was a man who despite his cold appearance, had more warmth and more care for him than his own flesh and blood. Taking comfort and strength in that thought, they pushed on until Scott finally lead them out into a medium-sized entrance with several doors. From many of them, sounds could be heard, rhythms, music, laughter, etc. Scott however ignored them, and walked instead to a bigger door, ornated with gold and the same runes as in the first entrance. “The Shiakar Paradigm Society, Temple XIII,” Randall translated for Abraham. “XIII?” Abraham asked, puzzled. “There are several temples like this one across Terra.” “What language is this?” Abraham examined closer the runes. “Shiakar,” Randall answered, joining him. Abraham looked at him with even more puzzlement, but Scott interrupted him. “You mind? We’ve got a meeting waiting.” This time, Scott only needed to push open the door. He made a quick signal, and Randall dragged Abraham away from the door. “Stay back,” he said. From the angle, Abraham could only see part of Scott, who was now hissing in joy. A metallic sound was heard that Abraham guessed as Scott’s dagger sliding out, and then a commotion was heard. To Abraham’s surprise, almost no sound came from the obvious combat, beside Scott’s grunts and hisses. He approached slowly the entrance. “Don’t, idiot,” Randall warned, trying to stop him. “I won’t come close, I just want to see better.” Randall shrugged, but approached as well in a protective manner. The fight was almost ended though, and Abraham watched in fascination as Scott was executing some of the most complex moves and near-impossible dance of death he had seen. The hooded opponents fell to the ground without any sound, and then more hooded figures quickly took the bodies away. Scott laughed as he cleaned his daggers in a flicking movement. He then spoke in a foreign language to yet three more hooded figures who approached him in a ceremonial manner; Abraham listened hard, but he could not figure out the words, which sounded guttural, with pronounced s’s and rolled r’s. The figures answered likewise, then retreated further into the room, and Scott motioned the two man to come in. “Their security is slow, as usual,” Scott announced them, his liveliness back for a moment. “Didn’t took me any effort.” “Just lots of show-off,” Randall reprimended him. “What do want me to say, it's been awhile,” Scott smiled brightly. Randall cut him with a raised hand as he noticed Abraham gazing around him in awe. The room was large, high and deep; at the far end, a gigantic fireplace was providing a strong heat, and a bright orange light like those of the multiple mural lamps and chandeliers across the room. The walls reached easily 20 feet according to Abraham’s guess, and were made of basalt. Rectangular banners hanged on those walls, all showing the same scene: a marine blue background lined with white. Its main feature was a white three-sided ouroboros with four bat-like wings. A white star hung over the ouroboros' head, while six white stars laid in a downward pyramid rested under the main symbol. Runes finally complemented the top of the banner, and Abraham recognized the word “Shiakar”; the rest was however as alien as before. Abraham shifted his attention to the rest of the room. Upon the obsidian floor, a large marine blue carpet led visitors from the door to the biggest table Abraham had ever seen. It easily stood 7 feet from the floor, was made in massive carved stone, and topped with obsidian; Abraham calculated its width by a good 18 feet, and its length by 50 feet. The hooded figures that welcomed the trio set two 8 feet tall chairs, facing one each other across the width of the table, at the farthest edge; Abraham couldn’t help but lightly chuckle as he noticed small steps attached to the stairs, to allow the visitor to climb from the floor to the seat. His mind reeled at the unrealistic vision of the room. “Come on, don’t be afraid,” Randall encouraged him, walking down the carpet toward the table. Abraham followed, dutifully followed by Scott; during this time, the hooded figures continued to set the table, bringing food and refreshments. Randall climbed as elegantly as he could his chair, and Abraham did the same, feeling a bit foolish having to walk up steps to sit on a simple chair. It revealed at the top to be extremely comfortable, looking in style and in feel like a Renaissance royal chair. As the two man made themselves comfortable, Scott hovering around the edge of the table facing the door, Abraham heard the three hooded figures below him beginning to softly chant, holding some kind of electronic tablet in their hands. Randall smiled reassuringly, and during that time, took a sip from the wine glass set in front of him. “Mm,” he said appreciatively. “A very fine vintage. They haven’t yet forgotten the simple pleasures of life.” Abraham followed him, and found himself surprised at the incredible taste of the wine, trying to ignore the ever-increasing annoying chant below him. He had only placed down his glass of wine that the sudden appearance of a gigantic form at his left made him startle in surprise. Randall slightly jumped as well, but immediately regained his composure, motioning Abraham to do the same. Abraham attempted to hide his shock and fear as the 14-feet tall figure laid down a wavy double-bladed wicked-looking sword against the table, and sat on an ornate throne-like chair that had appeared alongside the being at the width side of the table. Even seated, the newcomer presided over the table and the two man from his 7 feet upper body height. Abraham did all he could not to shrink in fear as golden slited-pupiled eyes turned to him in clear distrust. Suddenly, the being turned to where Scott was hovering, and it bellowed in a cavernous voice: “Out of my sight, Rodgul vermin!” Scott tentatively hissed in defiance; he squealed in fear and ran as fast as he could when the being retorted with a terrifying snarl. His attention distracted, Abraham gathered the courage to look him over. The tall being was wearing a kind of pale shawl which was riddled with muddy, dark red stains. Abraham suddenly realized it was blood, that the being was wearing like trophies. But that was not the worst. The being's skin was completely inhuman, covered in aged and cracked scales. The being's yellow, cold eyes were empty of any warmth or even emotions; and Abraham gulped upon seeing that the being's fingernails were in fact dark yet sharp claws, as long as Abraham's forearms. Upon its head, which was more like that of a reptile than a human's, there was a crown that formed horns of metal. Abraham couldn’t believe his eyes, and his mind reeled in confusion. That was the ever-famous ‘superiors’ of Randall? Yet, there was no denying the oppressing threat oozing out and chilling him to the bones. “Good evening, Your Highness,” Randall’s voice broke Abraham’s thoughts. “Randall Redspear,” the being simply replied, his grave booming voice showing clearly that English wasn’t the language he spoke often. “Allow me to do the presentations,” Randall continued. “Your Highness, this is Abraham Solomon, the reason for our meeting. Abraham, this is Prince Nebuchadnezzar, of the Shiakar Universal Empire.” “Pr… Pr… Prince?...” Abraham stammered. “What is the meaning of this meeting?” Nebuchadnezzar replied in an annoyed tone, ignoring completely Abraham. “I want your authorization to induct Mr. Solomon as an official member of the Shiakar Society.” “For what reasons? Is the plan not advancing in our favour?” “On the contrary. It is precisely because the plan is perfect that I wish to include an additional failsafe. The population will soon come to the stage where they need a scapegoat. Giving them Mr. Solomon will allow for them to remain blissfully unaware of not only the Order, but of the existence of Your Highness as well.” Abraham looked at Randall with shock, but also a newfound understanding. So that was why Randall wanted him: he needed a scapegoat for whatever the grand plan was. “Why him?” the Prince asked. “Obviously I cannot fulfil that role; neither can Ysadora, she is a warrior, not a politician. And I’m sure that you’d agree that both Scott and Daniel are incompetent. But Abraham has unique talents. The population find him charming yet strict… but the greatest quality he will add to our plan is the fact he is a M.U.T. I am sure Scott recently inquired to you about their existence; the reason is sitting next to you, and I intend to use our enemies’ weapons against themselves. Imagine, Your Highness, a leader who cannot be killed, whose mystery will spark the limited imagination of the population. Why would they look beyond when the answer to all the mysteries is represented within one impossible man standing before them?” Abraham had to give it to Randall: the plan was genius, and the answer as to why they were excited of his ‘ability’. But now dread filled his mind as the being’s cold yellow eyes turned to him in sudden interest, boring into his own as if the Prince was finally seeing him sitting there. “I see...” Nebuchadnezzar merely said, looking at Abraham as if the latter had an aura surrounding him. When he spoke again, it was with undisguised suspicions. “Where are your allegiances? Gaea or humans?” “What do you mean?” Abraham asked, beginning to be confused. “Gaea host millions of lifeforms, and humans are only one of them. Yet the inevitable childish answer the Society get upon this question, is ‘with humans’. What about the hundreds millions lifeforms? Don’t they get a second look from our part?” Randall explained. “I agree with that. Just the other day I had this very argument with two journalists,” Abraham replied. “That humanity should be saved at the expanse of the survival of our planet, while it is clear we have stepped beyond the threshold of Gaea’s balance. This is no mere hypothesis. Humanity has become a deadly cancer in any forms to our planet; and it threatens to become one to yet more planets as we advance into interplanetary conquest.” “And why do you, yourself a human, deem the rest of your specie as unworthy?” Nebuchadnezzar questioned. Abraham was even more confused by the question, and he looked at Randall, seeking some form of help; but this time, the old man did not clarify the question. “Are you incapable of individual thoughts, Abraham?” Nebuchadnezzar sharply asked, noticing Abraham's look toward Randall. “Your Highness, you forget that humans are ordinarily not questioned about their species,” Randall intervened. “You have to let him answer in his own way.” The Prince sighed, and his glare softened. “Continue,” he ordered Abraham. Abraham took a deep breath, and answered truthfully, hoping it wasn't a trick question: “It doesn't take outsiders to see that most humans haven't evolved beyond basic instincts. They are merely monkeys, with a bigger brains and more advanced neural activity, which doesn't mean that they are more intelligent. They despise anything higher advanced than their primal knowledge, and seek to bring everything down to their level of primal instincts.” “Yes, I know about bullying and abuse,” Nebuchadnezzar sighed in annoyance. “What makes you think all humans are such?” Abraham smiled. “Because no humans like to accept that someone else is smarter than them, more admired, or more loved. Basic psychology. Ask Randall, ask any scientifical genius, they have all been despised for being more advanced, for not comforming to the 'normal' primal knowledge and behaviour. They are then scared that those higher advanced being will control them. I say that their fears are well justified. When a dog doesn't learn to behave in an advanced state, and keeps its primal instinct, what do humans do? Forcefully train it, discipline it, or if it doesn't learn, euthanize it. To survive, one must evolve to an higher state of mind. Any left behind have sealed their fates by themselves. To survive, one must become mighty; when faced with hardship or challenges, one must actively seek to rise above them, defeat them. Simple law of evolution. Might makes Right, and the meek gets shoved down. And most humans are meek.” » It doesn’t matter who or what they are. Rules still apply to them. Take Nature itself: the balance is maintained within the hundred of millions of lifeforms population through natural cycles such as predators, weather, viruses, etc. There’s no such thing as sentimentality when it comes to Nature. Humans believe they can transcend judgement, justice, elimination; but doing so, they disrupt the fundamental laws. Humans have a right to live, but not to cheat Nature.” “Don't you want all humans to become Mighty?” Nebuchadnezzar asked. “Why? What benefits would it give? A forest is a forest because only 10% of its trees survived the chase to the sun's rays. The rest lives beneath and becomes food to the lower lifeforns. That fundamental Law of Nature doesn't exclude humans just because they happen to have a bigger brain. Only the fittest rise above the meek, and only a small percentage can rise to that level, otherwise it upset the balance.” Nebuchadnezzar smiled at Randall, revealing a set of sharp yellow teeths, his yellow slitted eyes gleaming with delight. “A quite delightful young man you brought me, Randall.” “I was sure you would approve,” Randall replied brightly. “Do you agree that he would be perfect for our plan?” “Yes,” the Prince simply answered. “What do you want me for?” Abraham asked, slightly nervously. “How can I help you when I don’t even know what I’m agreeing to?” “You don’t know?” Nebuchadnezzar incredulously said. “I haven’t filled him in with the details yet,” Randall intervened. “I wanted him to see first with whom he would work for.” “And risk revealing who we are?” Nebuchadnezzar replied angrily. “I doubt he could escape your warriors should you decide he isn’t trustworthy.” “Yet someone you once trusted escaped us,” Nebuchadnezzar accused. Randall bowed his head apologetically, but his countenance remained calm. “A mistake that I believe I have redeemed myself with the unconditional loyalty of my daughter to the Society.” The Prince considered the two of them before speaking again: “Then get to the point; time is not something to be toyed with.” Randall bowed again his head, and then stared at Abraham. “The mission of the Shiakar Paradigm Society is simple. Do you know this quote from Socrates: ‘It goes without saying that extreme remedies are necessary for extreme diseases’?” “Of course,” Abraham acquiesced. “Humanity has become an extreme disease to the greater entity that is our planet Gaea. The Shiakars, like myself and you, believe that not because it appears inanimate means that it is not composed of thousands of millions of lifeforms threatened by the existence of humanity. And if there is an extreme disease...” “… then an extreme remedy is required,” Abraham finished. “Nearly a hundred years ago, underground scientists calculated that to halt our effects on our planet, we needed to fall below 500 millions of individuals, and follow a stricter rule of existence. One based off the universal cycle of evolution.” Abraham understood. “And we’re to be the ones bringing that remedy.” “With their help,” Randall motioned the Prince and the hooded figures. “Why?” Abraham asked the Prince, who flared at this direct question. “A favour for a favour. Their own survival was once threatened by disobeying the universal cycle of evolution, and it nearly wiped them out. They help various civilizations across their paths to regain their natural rhythm, and an alliance is formed to help the Shiakars regrow, in return,” Randall answered “And that remedy to our problem will be a form of Doomsday, I gather?” Abraham asked. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Once again why we need the Shiakars’ help. Humanity will never accept it coming from humans; they’d think it’s just another ploy for selfish control. But to have the final proof that their existence threatens not just their planet, but could one day in the future threaten other planets as well… the Shiakars’ presence is required. » Otherwise, if Doomsday is wrongly interpreted as genocide, the transition will not happen as peacefully as possible, and an unnecessary stigma will continue on to the survivors. We don’t want that. Humans have to understand that they finally stepped over the line where it concerns them. They are not an infallible specie, they are not mystical ‘chosen ones’ above other lifeforms; they are a natural evolution born of Gaea and are meant to follow her rules as much as any other species. And no other species have ever stepped their boundaries… other than humans. » For that, Abraham, I need your help. You know history and chaos theory better than anyone else, you know what’s happening, what must now happen. The population trust you; but at the same time, if it goes bad, we cannot afford our mission to fail for something as silly as mortality. You are a M.U.T. You can protect and shoulder this Society, despite the threats. My own time is counted, and although Ysadora has her strengths, leadership is not one of them.” “I understand,” Abraham softly replied. He also understood it had to do with the threats: despite his desires, he was out of this world’s rules, essentially immortal. If an attempt should be made on his life by an extremist, he could survive it and continue on. Randall and Ysadora could not; their life was bound by natural cycles. “It depends on you,” Nebuchadnezzar intervened. “How much do you wish to be the ever-surviving tree?” “What do you mean?” Abraham wondered. “Rising above what you are,” Randall precised. “To be amongts the high ranks of the Shiakar Empire, just as Ysadora and I are. To never bow down before anyone, to be your own master. To defeat any challenges given to you, and to guide others unto that path. ” “I wish it very much, but my present condition...” “Irrelevant once your part in the grand scheme is done,” the Prince reassured Abraham. “The Shiakar scientists can move your physical body from your original universe to our own. It's a lenghty process, but then, we have all the time, don't we?” Randall explained. “You will never need to wake again in your nightmare world. And once you truly belong to our Universe, you can be just like us. The mighty tree. » Scientists are the best in the universe. They can change any aspect of your genetic material. Want brown eyes, they'll give it; a cat's night vision, just ask. Want to live longer, regenerate any damaged organs? Be faster, more agile...?” Randall looked expectantly at Abraham, emphasizing the last four words. Abraham suddenly understood: these were abilities that Ysadora had. He looked at Randall with shock. “She is... modified? By his specie?” “This is taking too long, Randall,” Nebuchadnezzar sharply protested. “No, wait, I am interested; this is just too sudden,” Abraham cut with more heat than he intended; he noticed the Prince tense dangerously at this outburst. “Please forgive my pace, Your Highness, but I must adjust to all these news. Surely Randall here and Ysadora didn't agreed right away; you must have given them time to think about what it meant to them?” Randall turned to the Prince, and suggested in a soothing voice: “Abraham is right, Your Highness; Ysadora did took some time adjusting to your ways. Would Your Highness allow me to speak alone with Abraham, show him the full extent of our proposition? It wouldn't take away your precious time, and we will both return to you as soon as he assimilated all the information.” Nebuchadnezzar sighed, but Randall had a good point. “Very well. I have some urgent matters to attend to. You may use the reception hall; but I warn you both. If my Priests detect hesitation in Abraham's mind, I will not risk betrayal.” “Of course, Your Highness,” Randall accepted with a reassuring smile. He signalled Abraham to rise, and both bowed to the Prince before leaving the table. Nebuchadnezzar looked on as they retreated, but soon returned his attention to his bleeping computer. Randall leaded Abraham to a side door, at the far side of the hall. A small pang of fear crept in his mind: what truly awaited him, should he accept their mysterious offer? Not two months ago, he was selected to be in the Americae Presidential Council; now, he was following an old man whose daughter was genetically modified, who recruited him to a strange hall, dining with a fourteen feet tall Prince from another specie (an alien!) who asked him about the worthiness of humanity. What did it bode for him? How far was Ysadora involved? Did she even knew what her father and the Prince were planning? The sound of a heavy door opening brought him back from his thoughts, and Randall entered a luxurious reception area. A quarter as big as the main Hall, it nonetheless featured the same cathedral roof, the same obsidian walls and floors; it was however more heavily covered with marine blue carpets and drapes, featuring the Shiakar emblem. However, the walls were also covered with paintings from the Classical and Renaissance era. Red sofas laid all over the hall, in group of four around golden Renaissance coffee tables. Abraham was surprised to find the reception hall filled with humans, all mostly seated and deep in chatting. A deeply rythmic trance music was playing in the background, and some of the guests, mostly the women, were dancing at the beat. Randall took Abraham to a table away from the chatter. “Abraham, listen to me. I know you are confused, I was too in the beginning.” “Who is he? What is he?” Abraham asked. “The most advanced being in our Universe. I know he looks frightening, but think about it: is the Universe filled with beings and creatures fulfilling the fantasies of blue eyes and blond hairs? No. » The Shiakars have a purpose: to elevate civilizations and bring them face to face with the reality of the world. Humanity wants to sail in the skies; but it's not with their current attitude and wishful thinking that they'll survive. They need strength, unity, and the drive to face and move over any all obstacles and challenges. Some will call the Shiakars merciless; but you and me, we both know that order and discipline is required to find balance in life. Once you understand that, then you can understand how they truly help civilizations out. » I know this, because he healed my daughter when no one would, not even God himself after her mother making so many prayers to him. He gave us the opportunity to actually change the world, Abraham. And I want you to be a part of it. Don't say anything yet, just let me tell you about our... in fact, my offer. Abraham, I know you. I know you, because I see myself in you. You were despised, just like me, by humans who were a fourth less clever than us. Yet, these people won all the compliments while we were the last. But we are not them. Their hate is our strenght. We use their contempt of us to pass incognito, and beat them when they least expect it. We don't stop at obstacles: we climb over them, and create bigger ones for anyone who dare and try to follow in our footsteps. We are the greatest trees in the forest. » I offer you to be by my side. Not to work for me; to work with me. I know of your love for Ysadora and hers for you, and I couldn't be prouder. I can and will offer her hand to you; and that is not something I will willingly say to anyone. But we need your help. And I need your proof, your ultimate proof that you are worthy of the Redspear bloodline. Accept my offer, and you will be amongts the highest in ranks.” Abraham looked thoughtfully at Randall; if there was one thing that he was sure of, was that the old man was always truthful. After two hours, they returned to the main Hall, where they found Prince Nebuchadnezzar waiting. He nonchalantly waved a hand towards them, and one of the hooded figure seemingly sprang from the shadows, and faced Abraham. A powerful strange force suddenly invaded Abraham's soul, and he struggled staying on his feet. Everything became whitewashed, the atmosphere felt as if it was inoxerably chocking his soul; he felt utterly exposed and transparent, felt his deepest secrets and thoughts flashing by for all those without a possibility to resraining them, uninhibited like a truth serum on steroids. Suddenly, it stopped as short as it began, and Abraham stumbled back, sweating and a great headache filling his head; Randall gently helped him remain upright, holding him firmly by the shoulders. For Abraham, he knew it barely lasted twenty seconds... yet it felt like eternity. The hooded being stepped back and turned to the Prince; another twenty seconds passed before Nebuchadnezzar's voice boomed for all to hear: “I welcome Abraham Solomon to the Shiakar Paradigm Society, and to its enlightened mission.”