... Okay. I get tired of waiting, SOOOOOO!
Now I release for the WORLD to read, the first act of
BIG O: SHOWTIME! Enjoy, and post! I like reading responses, EVEN IF THEY'RE FLAMES! Well, maybe not, flames are mean...
Okay, I'm done.
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Act 27: The Wall of Paradigm City (PART ONE)
“There is but one truth. If you avert your eyes from it, you will remain nothing more than a puppet… In the words of Schwartzwald, who is closest to the truth, imagination and memory are but one thing, which for diverse considerations have diverse names…”
Suddenly, without warning, Roger Smith’s eyes flew open, as if reeling from some imaginary pain, and then felt suddenly at ease. His peripheral functions soon began to return to normal, and he could finally see the sky. Or at least, he thought it was the sky, it was blue, and it was filled with clouds. He got up, and found that he was on a vast grassy plain, on top of a tall hill stretching into the main fields. He looked further and saw bright cornfields and vast rays of morning sun coming up from the night’s domain. He sighed a relaxing sigh, and immediately he lay on the soft grassy hill under him, soaking up the pureness of the morning’s ambiance. However, before him shown the face of a tall weathered man, wearing tight ribbons, and a beige trench coat.
“Wake up.” He said ominously.
Roger looked up to see him, somehow lackadaisically at that.
“Stop accepting what you see and feel! Search your thoughts…”
Roger looked at the man’s mouth, but it remained tight. Somehow the man was channeling his voice into Roger’s mind!
“Who—who are you?” Roger asked, somehow copying the man’s strange attribute by speaking inside his mind.
“It matters not.”
With that, he took Roger up from where he was laying down.
“Look before you, what do you see?” the man asked as he stretched his arms before him.
“I see…a beautiful spring morning, with birds and fine breeze. This is where I want to be – for the rest of my life…”
The man turned sharply to him.
“Do you realize what you are saying? Roger Smith?”
Roger looked at the man once hearing his name.
“What did you call me?”
“Your name is Roger Smith, correct? Tell me, are there any places like this in Paradigm City?”
Roger thought for a moment.
“Well – no…”
The man nodded to Roger as if he agreed with him. Then he stood before Roger and into the plains.
“Imagination and memory are but one thing! This entire landscape is imaginary!” the man shouted, then suddenly bent over, chuckling to himself.
Roger walked over to the man, somewhat confused.
“What’s so funny?”
The man could hardly sustain his laughter for a moment.
“This is all make-believe. This is an image of your imagination, your made-up memories! Ahahaha!” the man struggled to maintain his cool, but the hilarity of the moment seemed to escape by its only means.
Roger stood there, confounded by the man’s thought of sheer hilarity with such a matter.
“What, this is all – pretend? It’s not real?”
Suddenly, the man stopped his laughing, and stood up straight. Both gazed at the enormous sight before them. The clouds in the sky seemed to fall down into the cornfields, engulfing the fields in a matter of seconds as if flaming balls of fire from the heavens were thrown into Earth itself. The fields burned with an ambitious flare, with might as only one who’s seen it can describe. Roger and the man looked before them at the monstrous scene before them, but as Roger discovered, none of the flames licked the tall hill, which the two were located.
“What’s happening?” Roger asked, completely appalled.
“The end of the world, Negotiator… It happened, about forty years ago…”
Roger’s eyes began to widen with greater fear with each passing second.
“Divine thunderbolts, raining down from the heavens, to destroy the world, and to let the almighty who commands us rebuild. That is what I discovered, Smith. Amongst the dusty wastelands outside the barriers of Paradigm City…”
----More to come of the act, cause I can't put the whole dang thing on, so enjoy so far!
