Paradox of Pain

I have been gifted with Gates.
Through a Gate, I can watch beyond my own life and death, beyond my own memories and knowledge.
I can see beyond the limitations of my genes, my culture, and my time.

Through these Gates, I could meet a lady who resembled my own self, yet she was different. In turn, she had already met many other ladies who fit the same, mutual, description.

Dreams and nightmares are beneath; it is my purpose.

One. One. Two. Three. Five. Eight. Thirteen. Twenty-one. Thirty-four. And so forth.
I have a thousand duties to perform: Observation. Study. Interpretation.
These Gates are a library, and I am to study and compile the meaning between the lines.



I have many setbacks and boring obstacles.
Little nuisances: these are easy to deal with.
Or so I thought.

A bright, yet cloudy morning of the twelfth month.
His name, I refuse to share. He does not deserve to be remembered further.
But he has the skill to thwart my goals. He has visions that foresight my actions.

Hate has thrived in my core since the moment he began to exist.
Consider all the Gates, all the perfect ladies that span across ages. Listen to my words in a retroactive effect; my hatred will transcend his stupid life.

I try to not entertain my emotions, beyond death stares and evil thoughts, of course.
Sometimes, curiosity reigns above me. Sometimes, I take a glance at my Gates.

The outcomes I witness fill me with joy and envy.
I am glad that other ladies, who are (or are not) me, are able to break through their ethical limitations.
They do not care if blood melts in their faces. They execute a plan and execute this foolish nuisance!

This has given me a collection of new ideas; I merely need time to refine my plans.
Perhaps later. I must research why this idiot spans across the Gates in a frequency higher than my own genesis. Is it merely a statistical oddity? Or is there foul play involved?

I was perfect. I was a perfect researcher. Just perfect.
This one, a wildcard in the wild sea of possibility, dared to confront me.
His opposition cost me greatly.

How could I let it rest? A poison of violence, a flame of revenge!
Festering within my core, burning my sanity away!



Watching others, watching me...
What was it that I saw?
An omen? A curse? A suggestion?

I peeked into a void. What did it mean to me?
Pain. The one injury to end all pain.

A feral, restless vision of confusion.
All the colors, matching together in an aberration of life.
A blinding darkness from which there is no defense.
That is the void I saw.

Like a gravitational hole made of black, it pulled my absolute strength deeper towards the horizon. Closer towards the exile of nature.

For once, I felt true fear. I feared for my future.



My existence has been... lonely.
I command a Legion of subordinates. Competent and skilled, but a tier below me.
I've mingled with fellow researchers, kings, warriors...

I've even performed deathly threats to those who dared stand in my way.

And yet... It's subdued; separated by the barrier of business. It's an impersonal matter, a detached action of duty.

I am the owner of my own heart, my own organ of life.
I, and I alone, walk down this winding, long road of fate.



Am I here to… merely suffer?

No. I'm able of more than that.
Existence is painful, but I'm not a fool. Existence is joy, as well.
I'm here to find, create, and keep my own pleasure.

Under these circumstances, I am required to make a sacrifice, to give up my own desires.
I understand what I must do.
And yet, I refuse.

I will not grant him a desire.
I will not recognize him as my equal, much less my superior!



Years upon years; rotations, cycles, and patterns. I have persisted for a respectable amount.
I do my tasks to the best of my abilities. I often must improvise; but that is inevitable. Plans are delicate things.

I know my duties. My tasks. I know them by heart.
I am aware of everything I must perform.
That awareness is the source of my struggle.

I look at my reflection in a glass pane.
I see... eyes about to wither.
I see... matter, mere moments before decay.

My body, a perfect construct, can outlast the final atom.
Did I glimpse into my soul? My former nature, my ancient wisdom; tainted by flesh and death...
It's seeping back into my head.

I've not been like this before.



Tired...
I feel tired...
It is weariness that slumber, or retrofits cannot remove.

I must end it, then.
I sent an invitation to the source of my hate.
If a meal cannot poison his heart, my claws will cut his chest apart.

He arrived like the stupid idiot he is.
And he entertained my illusion of formality.
He's mocking me. He's doing this to laugh at my methods.

I had to endure one last torture before I could strike him down.
He spoke of his dreams, of his desires, of his future...
And I didn’t care for any of that.

Then he spoke of a dream, a vision of darkness.
He dreamt that he died. Hahah! What an idiot!
He’s weak, worrying about his existence like so.

''And how did you perish, if you don't mind giving me ideas?''
He mentioned that the nightmare was a circumstance, not a funeral.
I was the one who caused death.

''Don't flatter me so. Slash? Shock? Splatter?''
Heartache, he says. I laughed again.
Then he confessed his complete vision.

I was to die before him, with a mere minute of difference.
My heart stopped from the news. I had to pull its strings myself to bring it back into function.
His visions are absolute.

Always absolute.

Absolute.

I thanked him for his time and sent him home.
I had to watch my Gates once more.

Death. Darkness. Pain.
All told by the Gates.
Is there a way to stop it? Is there hope for me?

One fleeting, stupid solution came to me. An old legend, a cure for my terminal illness.
Ancient Theseus has brought forward the only path to life.

But from my understanding, I will have to defy fate by arriving early to it.



I haven't opened a Gate in years.
And you know what I've been up to?

I've become his best acquaintance!
Yes, him! The one who I swore to never forgive or to never forget!
I can't believe I did it...

Was it true? Could I have lowered myself for this?
Or was the pride of the REAL me no longer able to stop this?

What is he? What am I?
Friends, then? Friends, even!

And you know what the worst part was?
That I... I came to ENJOY it!

That lady he and I knew, one so focused on her duties, had ceased to exist.
And no miracle or belief would change that.
In solemn silence, I felt the void. A cold, weightless shadow was cast upon me.

Then the release of apathy arrived. I felt...



Thirty-four...







Twenty-one...






Thirteen...





Eight...




Five...



Three...


Two...

One...
Less than one. Nothing.



My dear Corazón.
Forgive me.