Castle Paradox

[Exaulted_Leader]

Just A Game

That bastard was going to be mailing his legs a ‘Wish You Were Here’ postcard for Christmas.
Bobby chugged another token into the coin-slot, waiting to hear the KU-CHUNK! Of the machine registering it’s deposit before slamming his fist down on the big red button that sat in the center of the console before him – pleading to be pressed.

SPLAT!

Pixels spread dark red all over the screen as a bulky mass of teeth and muscle finished clamping it’s jaws all the way shut over a victim’s lower torso.

“SCORE!”

A series of hoots cheers came from the crowd surrounding Bobby’s machine – while, somewhere across the room, a lone teen tore at his hair and beat his knees.

“New record, Si! I’ve breached level 36 on the dangerous scale!”

Silas just looked in Bobby’s general direction, shaking his head. Kids these days. It was the littlest things that made their moments.

The littlest things…

The clerk took-down the last ‘Duel’ record that’d been made, scrawling-down and posting-up Bobby’s new tally. 37 was going to be a hard number to beat. Well, for the crowd that walked into this place, anyway.

Not like it mattered, though. Nobody ever won a trophy for scoring high in any of those ridiculous games. Nobody earned a degree. Nobody was making money (although quite a few were LOSING top dollar).
A waste of time, that’s what they were.

A Goddamn, insignificant, waste of time…


Final Words


Men aren’t Gods. We were never meant to be creators nor destroyers – and never shall.

Mortal hands are often best kept to themselves when regarding matters comprehensible only to the immortal.

I could not – I cannot – keep my hands to myself. Manipulation is rooted in my work. My blood. My life. In knowing that something new - something yet to be probed, analyzed and dissected – exists, I’m helpless but to test it. To touch it.

So, to this end, I must do what is responsible. What is necessary.
I must end my life.

Curiosity was bound to catch-up with me – I always knew it. Were it not for my inquisitive digits, I’d not have come upon the Window. I’d not have reached this conclusion – and I’d have neither created anything to damage, nor damaged things already created.

My deeds here are quite finished – although I hope that you think otherwise of yours.

The Window has already been formatted and copied into a medium that will allow even our most casual contributors to society a chance to undo what has been done. Perhaps we’ll be able to celebrate another great day of independence sometime in the future…

Attached to this letter are selected snippets from my personal journal. Beware, reader, that the attached pages were not stapled in place for a casual study. By examining anything beyond this piece of prose, you are making a commitment. A commitment that led me to pen what you now read.

My revolver grows impatient with me. I’m afraid that I cannot stall with the writing of this letter any longer. To the friends and colleagues I hold dearest that are sure to read this document – farewell! It was a good life while I respected it.

Whatever life I’m to visit after this one, I’m sure it shan’t be one amongst the surroundings of heaven. My Sins have undoubtedly dug fissures too deep for God to ignore.

Perhaps I shall awaken from what is merely a terrible nightmare when I pull the trigger. It’s the only thing I can pray for…

-Samuel Mene

[Exaulted_Leader]

Entry 1 : The Window


March the 11th, 3:00 A.M.,

In light of Impact’s first significant step forward, I’ve decided to start a journal in order to record our progress as the project continues to gain headway. It would be too terrible a shame for any tragic event to occur and our discoveries (or at least knowledge thereof) to be lost.

We’ve finally succeeded in compiling and executing The Window; not a major undertaking in itself, but a considerable milestone nevertheless. All of the dangerous work, for the most part, is over and done with (and good riddance to it!)

Now that our scalpel has managed to breach both the membrane of reality AND limbo, we’ve got no further cutting to do. Simply observation, and perhaps a little prodding here or there.

It’s hard, really, to not start looking at oneself under a light of omniscience after peeking into the other side of reality; and wringing one’s fingers to prepare them for dabbling with fate.

The Window should be installed and loaded into our terminal network by one quarter to 8:00 P.M. this evening. Until then, I believe I have some shut-eye to get doing. I’ve still no idea how it gets so late so quickly these days.


Entry 7 : The Console


June the 2nd, 1:15 P.M.,

It’s the good news afterall; the control instrument board works flawlessly. It appears that William’s ‘Quantum Gelatin’ works far less dubiously than it’s name.

I must say, however, that the events of today in particular have caused me to question the ethical level of Impact. We continue to assure ourselves that the world we are looking into and playing with is nothing more than a mirror-image of our own – a reflection of reality – but I begin to wonder what makes us so sure that we ourselves aren’t just another mirror image of some sort.

In fact, I myself ponder whether or not one can assume that each of our actions as they stand aren’t being manipulated by the toys of some as of yet undiscovered level of reality.

I stress too much, I think – and I could probably do with a bit more sleep than I’ve been getting lately. Whatever the case, I’m quite sure any concerns I may express would be nothing but shrugged-off by my colleagues. This is science, afterall.

Still… today Alex linked-up with a little girl walking a dog on a lead, and used the console to steer her into oncoming traffic. We all laughed – it looked really funny – but I suppose it shook me up a bit.
Then again, so do most forms of dark humor.


Entry 10 : On Board?


July the 4th, 5:00 P.M.,

It’s been an excellent Independence Day. The local parade came marching by the office, tossing-out what I thought must’ve been a mint’s worth of candy – and Daniel brought a whole bouquet of fireworks. We’ll set them off sometime after dark.

More importantly, however, is the big news for Impact – we’ve finally coerced a software publisher to come and have a look at what we’ve done. As soon as a week from today, we might really be carrying this project somewhere.

Alice and Garret are still working on the calibration problems that the Search function has been having; but we’ll hopefully get them solved by the time our publisher comes to take a gander.

Maybe I’ll propose to Laura next week. I’ve already got the commitment – and now maybe I’ll have the finance and time to go with it.

[Exaulted_Leader]

Entry 23 : Duels


December the 8th, 1:00 A.M.,

We’ve finally developed a title that ShaftWare’s editor approved of:
‘Duels’.

A manufactured Arcade unit itself is 18 months away, at best (or so I would hypothesize); although we hope to create a completely functional demo product as soon as the middle of next month. I myself am a little skeptical of such an early release time for any product at all.

I can’t sleep.

Laura insists on knowing greater details of the work I’m doing – only out of interest, of course – and I sincerely regret being unable to confide upon her the details of my career; and our primary source of income. Daniel continues to tell me not to worry about it – but I can’t help but to do so.
Aren’t lasting relationships built on trust and openness?

Impact isn’t helping my aching conscience, either. I can’t get my mind around the large lump of discouragement that sits in my way every time I sit with my colleagues to work on this Goddamn ‘beat-‘em up’ game that we’re supposed to turn our mirror reality into.

I don’t care if it’s only a reflection of our world; it seems entirely amoral of me to cause an effective Armageddon simply to entertain a generation of quarter-popping adolescents.

I need to pick-up some more Tylenol tomorrow.


Entry 25 : The Enders


January the 6th, 9:10 P.M.,

Gene was right – all we had to do was a simple software import. William’s gelatin and the reality transfer did the rest of the work for us.

I don’t know about these ‘Enders’ that Alex created. Well… I should say I’m sure they’ll get their job done – but they just don’t feel… ‘right’.

Or maybe it’s the fact that we’re spawning them into Impact with the intent of creating a Holocaust that doesn’t feel right.

Either way, those things… they’re spooky. Of course, I realize that they’re only computer sprites as far as we’re concerned, and they came from somewhere in the back of Alex’s rather… ‘creative’ mind; but there’s something I don’t like about them. They’re… well… monsters.

In the truest sense of the word.

We won’t get to see anything happen until later tomorrow afternoon – which seems appropriate, as ShaftWare’s representative is arriving early the day after. The reality needs some time to ‘boot-up’ the ‘downloaded’ entities and re-spawn locations.

Still no sight nor sound from Laura.

I should’ve chased after her.

[Exaulted_Leader]

Entry 26 : Beyond Forgiveness

February the 2nd, 5:00 A.M.,

My old service revolver is loaded and waiting for me in the hallway outside. I’ve just this last journal entry and a note explaining the ‘Why’s to finish before I apologize to the world in the only decent way I’ve left myself with.
Impact is now a ‘success’. The whole crew just became a collaboration of very wealthy men.

Gene took everyone out for Champagne. I told him I had a thing or two to clean-up; and that I’d see him in a while.

I’m quite sure I will.

On the 7th of January, by the time I’d awoke, Alex and Daniel were already crowded around the Window – watching with unblinking eyes. Alex had the biggest smirk on his face that I’d ever seen.

The Enders were already at it. They looked like they’d been at it for a while. Dead bodies, flashes of gunfire, collapsing structures… I couldn’t breathe.
Who were we? What were we doing?

It wasn’t our place to be playing God with the lives of those people.
We were just a bunch of over-aged computer geeks with a knack for physics and a get-rich-quick plot. What the hell were we doing?

I should’ve asked myself those questions before then. Before we started poking and prodding.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The rep came just after Alice had gotten up; right about the time we were panning over a besieged New York City. He laughed until he cried, and got on his cell to his employer.

Until today, I and everyone else has been tied-up in, ‘Oh, you’ve just made HISTORY!’ meetings – accepting all sorts of cash transfers and ‘perks’ in order to give-up the juicy details about The Window and our Quantum Gelatin. William’s been pretty boastful of that crowing achievement lately.
Mass production of the Arcade unit is supposed to start sometime next month. I couldn’t live with myself seeing things that far through.

I can’t live with myself another day. Another damn hour.

I won’t ask God for forgiveness – I don’t believe it’s possible to forgive this atrocity. I will ask my colleagues to understand this decision of mine, however… and perhaps to consider the consequences of what they, too, have done.

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END

Criticisms and Comments are more than welcome.

[Seth]

I am confused...

Can you summarise what the hell this is really about please?
_________________
Missing in Action
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Cardcaptor Stacey
James Paige


Embattled Productions Home

[Exaulted_Leader]

Well, it's just a short fic Idecided to post - more or less just out of impulse.

I apologize if it just seems plain confusing and/or jarbled; but I can't really give it an appropriate summation of just a few words. Most of my writing is fairly abstract in that sense, and this is no exception.

[Seth]

So... you are like that guy...
_________________
Missing in Action
----------------------------------------------------
Cardcaptor Stacey
James Paige


Embattled Productions Home

[Seth]

Uh... Picasso, that's it.
_________________
Missing in Action
----------------------------------------------------
Cardcaptor Stacey
James Paige


Embattled Productions Home