But enough babbling.
Read, review, and enjoy the dancing elephant!
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Paragon
Prologue
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"The mind is its own place, and in itself, Can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven."
~John Milton, Paradise Lost
~John Milton, Paradise Lost
A curious thing, the human mind. So much is known about it and yet so much is still vastly misunderstood. No two minds are ever the same, and yet all minds function in the same way.
So it stands to reason that, like the mind, the capacity for human potential is ever-changing and always growing. Mankind is constantly testing the limitations of both the imperfect body and the mysterious mind, their greedy fingers always groping for the elusive paragon of perfection.
Many will stand to argue that the essence of perfection is but the shattered fragments of an untouchable dream, a myth created to instill the desire for productivity but manufactured to forever be out of reach. Many more, however, blindly continue to pursue such mythical dreams, longing to grasp with aching hands that which constantly eludes them. It is this craving, this insatiable hunger to better themselves and reach a higher state of being that drives mankind to partake in drastic measures in order to achieve that evasive goal of perfection. It is this same desire, this unstoppable yet omnipresent force, that led to my creation.
To date, it has been nearly ten-thousand years since the fall of Old Earth and the human potential remains untapped. Their ingenuity is impressive, I'll admit, their will to survive surpassing even their desire for perfection and order. In this struggle for survival mankind has gone through massive change—superior technological and medical advancements, countless wars as political powers fought for control, and the colonization of new worlds in distant galaxies; all once viewed as the impractical visions of ancient science fiction novels I once read.
But now that they've rebuilt their empires and stabilized the raging chaos that consumed them, the fight for survival is obsolete. Now they once more pursue that elusive hope for absolute perfection. But, try as they might, mankind has never been able to fully unlock the unimaginable power of their own capabilities, and the mind's limits still remained undiscovered.
Undiscovered, that is, until now.
Born from the synthetic womb of a birthing tank, known until recently as one of mankind's most secretive of their mechanical creations, I was immediately different from the other experiments. Unbound by the physical and mental laws that kept human potential from ever expanding, I was the quintessence of perfection, the living and breathing symbol of what mankind had for several millennia only envisioned in dreams. I was created to live outside the human limitations, able to perform tasks that were otherwise viewed as impossible.
Never wavering, I was whatever I was needed to be, having no other purpose but to serve. I existed not for myself, yet I existed by myself—a "paragon of my kind," as Father often extolled of me. I was the quickest, the strongest, the most desirable. The best of something that had never previously existed; I was the embodiment of perfection. Pure, unrivaled, stoic perfection.
But, regrettably, I am flawed.
I feel when I should not, think without being given the necessary commands, act on impulses that should not exist. These are not the qualities of perfection—they are the infuriatingly irrational traits of the most imperfect creation ever to exist: human.
I seek indefinite release from this emotional Hell, and yet the Heavenly bliss that living offers is too much for me to resist. If this unreasonable and illogical turmoil of the mind is the immortal spirit of humanity then I want no part in it, and yet a part of me yearns for more of it. To feel more, think more, BE more!
How this horrible nightmare occurred remains a mystery to me, yet one thing is certain. No longer possessing the essence of perfection that I was once born with and no longer liberated from the limitations of free thought and a sense of identity, I was unable to serve Father as I was created to serve him. My termination was inevitable.
If it weren't for the foolish bravery of Sister, I would no longer exist. I would be, in the lesser terms of a human, dead.
Hmm, death.
It is...unusual, that this simple, once meaningless word now instills within me a sense of fear. My own willingness to live, I suppose, where at one time I was told that my sole purpose was to serve.
A constant battle rages within my head. The lines between what I perceive as human morality and the impassive personality of the automaton I had once known are muddled, but there are two sides within me now when once there was only one.
No longer the embodiment of perfection yet not entirely human, I remain a threat to Father as long as I am alive. With Sister at my side, a new experience for me, we are hunted by the CORE, fighting for our lives as we hide in the cities among Innocents—both human and machine, but never are they one being. And never will they be.
The CORE will not rest until I am terminated, the threat eradicated. But my continued survival has not hindered their experiments, and they continue to play with the giving power of life, still pursuing the elusive desire for unbound, limitless perfection. It has fallen on my unfortunate shoulders, as my new sense of human morality tells me, to take up arms and put an end to this diabolical power-play.
I am alone in this fight to survive, however, this struggle to exist and to understand the purpose of my new-found life.
In mankind's pursuit of perfection, I was created. In my creation, a human conscience was born. Because of my birth, I am now hunted. But in this hunt, I do that which I was created to do. What I am best at.
Here in the time of New Earth, I am perfect.
I am flawed.
I am the tragic blend of both human and machine, forced to live and survive as one sentient being.
I am Paragon, and this is my story.
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Points: 4671
Reviews: 31