Post by thecursor on Feb 1, 2010 3:33:16 GMT 1
There were no words, for words are a mortal thing.
Perhaps they could be called "thoughts" but that word was also not correct. It was too small a concept for what They did. A God does not need to think or speak or use words. A God "wills" and that was how They "spoke" to one another.
They willed.
Twenty point forty five seconds after the shell of what some called "Collector General" expired, the one who some called "Harbinger" returned the piece of himself, the minute of a vast consciousness, back into the place where he existed.
He willed what he saw to the Others. They were displeased and the thing called "Harbinger" understood that reaction, willing a similar feeling of his own.
The lines of reality that now unfolded were blurred across several existences, none of them entirely favorable.
In some, the one designated as Shepard died, in others he/she lived. In some others died, in some they lived. In some the one called the Illusive Man held their technology triumphantly aloft, in others the collective known as the Alliance retained such knowledge. In some, their entire base was destroyed and their grand works were smashed to ruins.
The specifics changed, with each new incarnation they shifted slightly across a vast multitude of moral and ethical paradigms that no mortal could accurately predict but were easy to trace for a being that existed beyond such affairs.
Regardless of the minor details the end was the same: They were defeated. Again.
Deep in the blackness of their home, the one that some called Harbinger willed a concept to the Others.
"Direct intervention."
It was not universally approved. The more cautious amongst them used the death of the one that some called Sovereign as an example.
But the majority ruled.
"Begin" willed the Others. They were a nation unto themselves and the programs that ran within Them like blood now believed entirely in that concept.
So They shook off the dust of a millennium and moved in a direction some would call forward.
A scream pierced the very fabric of reality. Not just a sound but a feeling. If you were there with Them, floating in space along side a horde of these beings it would drive you mad. A presence followed them and it warped the universe to Their needs.
And as They closed upon the area of space that some called "The Milky Way", They knew that They would show no mercy.
For mercy, like words and thoughts, was for mortals.
Perhaps they could be called "thoughts" but that word was also not correct. It was too small a concept for what They did. A God does not need to think or speak or use words. A God "wills" and that was how They "spoke" to one another.
They willed.
Twenty point forty five seconds after the shell of what some called "Collector General" expired, the one who some called "Harbinger" returned the piece of himself, the minute of a vast consciousness, back into the place where he existed.
He willed what he saw to the Others. They were displeased and the thing called "Harbinger" understood that reaction, willing a similar feeling of his own.
The lines of reality that now unfolded were blurred across several existences, none of them entirely favorable.
In some, the one designated as Shepard died, in others he/she lived. In some others died, in some they lived. In some the one called the Illusive Man held their technology triumphantly aloft, in others the collective known as the Alliance retained such knowledge. In some, their entire base was destroyed and their grand works were smashed to ruins.
The specifics changed, with each new incarnation they shifted slightly across a vast multitude of moral and ethical paradigms that no mortal could accurately predict but were easy to trace for a being that existed beyond such affairs.
Regardless of the minor details the end was the same: They were defeated. Again.
Deep in the blackness of their home, the one that some called Harbinger willed a concept to the Others.
"Direct intervention."
It was not universally approved. The more cautious amongst them used the death of the one that some called Sovereign as an example.
But the majority ruled.
"Begin" willed the Others. They were a nation unto themselves and the programs that ran within Them like blood now believed entirely in that concept.
So They shook off the dust of a millennium and moved in a direction some would call forward.
A scream pierced the very fabric of reality. Not just a sound but a feeling. If you were there with Them, floating in space along side a horde of these beings it would drive you mad. A presence followed them and it warped the universe to Their needs.
And as They closed upon the area of space that some called "The Milky Way", They knew that They would show no mercy.
For mercy, like words and thoughts, was for mortals.