God is (almost) Dead

I slowly set about packing up all the signage and wristbands which had so painfully cut into the funds in my Common Dividend, packing them into bags to place in the apartment complex’s waste disposal later. It hurt a little to dispose of these things that I had honestly begun to grow a little attached to, but I knew it had to be done.… Maybe I am a bit of a hoarder.

I approached the television screen and flicked it on to distract myself from the menial chores. The screen was frighteningly thin and the mechanism by which it seemed to almost magically adhere to the wall was incomprehensible. I have seen some models that could be operated by thought given the prerequisite implant – though the Lord only permitted me to get this touchscreen model after significant petition. Apparently, in the very distant past, these devices operated primarily on physical broadcast frequencies and could, but in modern times that kind of broadcasting was obsolete, and they acted more simply as monitors for internet broadcasts.

In any case, the television was set to a news channel. While the Lord didn’t particularly care for it, I found it valuable to maintain an up-to-date knowledge of world events. They presented potential opportunities to gather faith… ignoring the fact that, as of then, none of them had. The broadcaster for this channel was listing off various events at a rather rapid pace, which suited me perfectly fine.

“On the twentieth anniversary of the Great Flood, the North Merykan Council’s official opposition, the Merykan People’s Front, has criticised the People’s Front of Meryka government over its inaction on coastal cities’ continued underdevelopment.”

It’s the twentieth anniversary of the Great Flood? I suppose it is only a bit over a month to my “birthday” then. I wasn’t really keeping track… but at this rate I’m not sure I will live to see that twenty-first year that Merykan humans seem to value so much.

Once upon a time, a wise man told us that God is dead, that God remains dead, and that we have killed him. I can confirm that all these theses were, in fact, very soon to be true. Should that occur, I would die with him. The key question was of course ‘why?’ - why was the Lord dying? Well, put simply, because nobody believed in him anymore. His power and existence required the faith of mankind. As his creation, it was only natural that I would also vanish should he disappear.

As for the Great Flood… I suppose that was the Lord’s effort to recreate an earlier action which succeeded in provoking sufficient faith through fear. I couldn’t be particularly upset in its failure, though, given that it led to my existence.

I headed into the apartment’s bathroom to wash my face. In the mirror, I saw myself. My long white hair and reddish-brown eyes framed an expressionless yet flawlessly hyper-symmetrical face. My skin was so pale that one could quite easily mistake me as sickly. When I was first brought down to the world of man several years ago after my rather isolated life living within the divine world of Everywhere, I assumed that I would be considered quite beautiful. After some time passed, I came to the realisation that, while humans value symmetry in their beauty standards, an appearance that is too ‘perfect’ would end up producing an uncanny effect. Consequently, my first impression to most humans boiled down to just “creepy”.

But that doesn’t matter. All I can do is continue to try to reach the heart of this era’s humans. All I can do is continue to try. I can’t give up on man.

At that resolution, my face remained expressionless.

I washed up and left the bathroom to dispose of the signs and bands. As I gathered them up, the Lord stared at me, before raising a withered hand and gestured at the signs. He almost whispered out a question.

“Do they laugh?”

“Sometimes. But I cannot think that they particular care about it either way.”

“Then make them care.”

I felt a cold expression aimed at me, despite the haziness of the Lord’s features. As he responded, an unfathomable pressure that could only be described as “that of a god” suddenly crushed me at full force. No matter how weakened, God was God. I felt a cold sweat break out across my body as my heart began to palpitate rapidly. My breathing became erratic, and continued to be even after the pressure from the Lord subsided.

I bit my lip. I truly wanted to do that. I wanted them to care. I simply didn’t know how to make them. As such, I left to dispose of the signs and bands. I entered the now-silent corridor of the apartment complex and gave myself a moment to calm down. When I finally reached the disposal unit and threw away the bags, I couldn’t help but feel like the weight I was carrying had remained exactly the same.

I really need to take a walk.

Leaving the waste disposal room, I began to stroll through the surrounding residential district. The frosty night air felt entirely different from when I had walked through the crowdy food service district earlier in the night.

===

The empty street was showered in light by a series of recurring street lights at set distances from each other. While some locations prefer to use simpler light strips along the sides of the roads, the Lord wanted me to avoid that more modern design when choosing living arrangements. Despite variation in street lighting systems by residential district, it was always a common sight to have near-identical tall buildings set uniformly, forming an almost symmetrical view when one looked down the from the centre of a street.

How efficient….

So, I walked. I kept moving until eventually, I felt like I didn’t have the energy to keep going. It wasn’t a physical limitation – my constructed body was closer to that of an angel than a human, it didn’t face the same weaknesses as humans. Nonetheless, I was facing an inexorable and deeply unfamiliar sense of tiredness.

Did the beer from earlier affect me more than I thought? No… that doesn’t seem right….

After taking a break under a streetlight, I steadily began to haul myself back to the apartment. As, for the second time of this night, I arrived at the complex, I noticed a man and a woman standing outside the building, arguing.

“I’m not going to baby you like I’m your fucking mother!”

“I don’t want that! I just want you to give me some god damn space!”

My eye twitched slightly at the latter comment.

“If you want space, then go find your own space. Stop causing problems for people who want to actually work for a living.”

At that, the man lowered his head and let out a cry of pure frustration. Indeed, in the modern world, thanks to the Common Dividend, one doesn’t actually have to take on regular employment to earn a liveable income. However, simply living isn’t enough to receive social acceptance, and it often isn’t enough to achieve self-satisfaction.

While I was considering their conversation, the man walked off past me. It seemed to me that he was insufficiently packed for any long-term travel, so it seemed likely that he was either being extremely impulsive, or he planned on returning at some point soon. I turned back to the woman, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

I should find out more….

Taking a closer look at the woman, she had an unusually straight posture and seemed to be in her early thirties. She had auburn hair, while the glint of moonlight revealed her forceful grey eyes. Ah! I saw her at the bar earlier tonight. The darkness of the night, nor her bitter expression could hide a certain aura of strength emanating from her straight facial features. Despite it being casual nightwear, I recognised the branding of clothing she had as a rather expensive one. The conclusion I drew from that was rather elementary.

Isn’t she perfect?

I calmly strode towards the woman and prepared to put on the gentlest voice that I could muster.

“What’s your name?”

After an uncomfortably long silence, she finally responded.

“… Sarah.”

“Are you feeling alright, Sarah?”

Sarah turned her head to peer at me more closely. Her eyes seemed to slightly narrow as she examined me. Only then did it hit me that my question was probably redundant considering her very visible current state. Oh well. As I thought up a potential follow-up, she slightly shook her head, and her odd look disappeared as she cut off my train of thought.

“Do you like wine?”

My eyes widened slightly at the question.

“I like it quite a bit, but why do you ask?”

Sarah gave me a slightly cheesy smile before responding.

“Do you want to have a drink and listen to my problems?”

Despite the overwhelming sense that my choice here could lead to far more than just a drink, considering the reason I initially approached her, I came to a rather easy decision.

“Sure.”