pride_fuels_collapse

 Closing the gap between me and Juliette, Leonard is nowhere to be seen. He might be an extraordinary scientist, but he lacks some wisdom in regards to dealing with other people. Two times he has been the cause of a major problem. And even then, Cap’s problem is far worse and complex than mine. My fist could be in his face right now, alas I bet he is already punishing himself in his own mind.

Reaching Juliette, Murph is not on sight. “Jules, where is Murph?”

“He went in to line up to buy the tickets. Hey… are you okay?” Staring at my face, she witnesses my exhaustion from my earlier conversation.

“Yeah, I’m…fine, I think.” Her being worried sick is at the bottom of my priorities right now. Teasing her is a national sport for me. Nonetheless, I’m not in the mood.

“Look, wonder boy. I’m counting on you. Everyone back at home is cheering for us. They sent you here for a reason; you are on a steady climb to success, and this is only a stepping stone.” Sweetness and delicacy tones the words so that I can pass them through my head.

“Being nervous is okay. What is not okay is being a coward and not living up to expectations. You put yourself in this situation, you made your own road to reach such heights. Deal with it.” And there she goes, back to her normal mode.

Raising my voice, I almost shout these last words. “Do you think I had a choice? That I wanted to become this ‘shining star’ bullshit? Huh!?” No one noticed except Jules as they are all focused on their daily lives and chores.

Why am I upset about it? Even the frowning of my eyebrows startled Juliette. Do I not like being this crucial figure? What is it? Expectations have always been there for me, ever since I was a child, and sadly I had to deal with them. I don’t empathise with that vile concept of assumptions over an individual's capabilities and future.

It just strangles the victim to reach certain heights that are unrealistic. An unstoppable force that eventually wears down whoever had their fates sealed by public opinion. Essentially, it feeds on the individual's perception of glory. It plays with the idea of someday being in a hall of fame, with a picture of themselves showered by the admiring sights of the visitors. Pride fuel, at the end of the day.

Recomposing herself, Juliette responds “Relax a bit, Julian. You have responsibilities and obligations. Live up to them, that’s all.” Averting her eyes from me, she declared her simple reasoning.

I was stupid. I should try and fix this.

“I’m sorry Juliette. There is just too much going on. But don’t worry, I’ll get my shit together.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” She says that, but I feel that this is going to take a while until comfortableness comes back between us.

“Let's get going. Murph might have finished by now” With nothing more to say, we venture to the main entrance of the parthenon.

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Nearing the entrance, the crowd gets larger and noisier the closer we get. Sharing videos, discussions of what’s about to be shown, chants of popular songs and stands selling various foods decorate the parthenon outskirts.

The holographic signs declaring the Further, Beyond remaining time for its grand opening is getting closer and closer. In an hour or so, the world will know about Julian, the -who knows what title I’ll receive-. What a hassle it will be.

Normally, shouting my intentions to the four winds is not exactly ideal. New attributions will be added to my persona, expectations will collide and people will probably cheer for me or even hate my guts.

Stress overcomes this stimulation, shadowing my thoughts and provoking a loss of focus. With my little chat with Jules, noticing that I’m getting more and more emotional, an anxious type of me is taking over my decisions. Recent disturbances are making my head hurt slightly.

“Here you are!” Murph exclaims, approaching us in consequence. “I talked with our inside mole, and everything is going as planned. Take this and use them to enter the parthenon.”

The Captain hands us a rubber bracelet colored blue and white. After putting it on, checking out the surrounding people I notice that all have different colours on their respective ‘entrances’. VIP treatment, cool.

Murph goes on to the left side of the entrance, signalling us to follow along. Juliette goes forward, while I become paralyzed by that familiar male voice speaking to my ears only.

Good luck, child. We expect you around here soon.

Brushing it off, I make my way through the sea of people waiting in line. The ridiculousness of the situation produces a smirk on my face. There’s no other way than forward. Convincing myself, I approach Murph with a smile. Not the time to ask him about his family, yet.

An automated response from the man guarding the place cuts off the ‘why are you smiling’ face of Murph. “Go on ahead, mister. And good luck in the beyond.” What a soulless line, only pity fills my view of the guard. He has to repeat that line for hundreds of time. Don’t worry, at least something interesting will happen in your job today.

Awe-inspiring, was the first word that came to mind to describe this whole place. The first floor is an open area, covering the whole one kilometre square with different sections. Inside each stand, various innovative devices are shown on display for the whole world to see.

No wonder there’s a lot of people outside.

Indeed, the place was crammed with many big names in the industry. Gramma and Rhetoria were on the communications side, exhibiting new contact lenses models and domotic integrations, while Tridaria Lujuria were showcasing civilian armament for personal defence. Other companies filled the remaining places, but these three were at least 50% of the showings.

Hell, even Innsperta is here. A demonstration of some of its interns about teleportation of data from one computer to another without using the Internet or any known form of transferring is their showcase. Interrogating them would be almost suicide for now. One, they probably don’t know about me and two, they are only interns, the probabilities that they are actually behind what’s happening to me are miniscule.

Many of the other stands are startups that revolve in either augmented reality or simulation technology, which is a field that has been developed quite a bit but is not capable of reaching reality just yet. Pioneers on simulating reality, achieving their dreams of worldwide recognition. The sad part is, they are probably backed financially by Gramma or Rhetoria, so it's all the same.

Hmm, this one is interesting.

My eyes focus on a sign with an appealing title. ‘Unconsciousness Translator’, shortly named Translator for marketing purposes. Lips start to curl up as Murph says “Blend in now. Go through some of the stands to not raise suspicions. We’ll see eachother at that bathroom in about an hour.” Shortly after, he disappears into the crowd to listen to the mechanics booth.

Maybe Juliette wants to come with me.

As I was turning to my left where she was standing, her figure was nowhere to be seen. Okay then, that’s okay. Shit. Is she that upset about me? The glimmer in my eyes is starting to get dimmer the more time we spend in this operation.

Cutting my thoughts short, the draggin of my feet eventually reaches a stop in the Translator booth. On my way to satiate my curiosity, my shoulder collides with another hurried individual running to the same destination. His green eyes intersect with my already annoyed self, only to serve as fuel for more displeasancy.

“Oh, my bad brother.” A sleek figure of a man imposes authority with only his sole presence. The reflections of the white neon lights on his hair stand out in the crowd for its golden short hair, thus importance being displayed through carefully selected designs on the sides of his head. How unique. He stands out like a sore thumb.

“It’s okay. Just be careful next time.” In a short exchange, he maintains eye contact permanently.

“You were going to the Translator booth?” Expectations for my response, his eyes open up along with his curving eyebrows. A shimmer of ‘I want to compensate you’ surrounds the formidable man.

“Yeah, it is one of the only things that interest me here, actually.”

With a nod of approval, he then continues “Come with me then. I know a thing or two about it.” A prideful attitude demonstrated by his chest puffing up makes me have a certain itch in me. Who is this man?

Extending my hand to him, I say “Julian, a pleasure to meet you.”

In a hurry, he shakes my hand. “You can call me… Green.” His radiant smile with perfect snow teeth could capture the hearts of anyone. He knows how to handle himself. Primordial Green, probably. An opportunity has opened up.

After the introductions, we start gazing at the electronics on display. A couple dozen people are here, examining the products. Polarising results, as the reactions range from yawns without scruples to wows of excitement. Green, on the other hand, is holding his chin with his hand.

“Is there a problem?” His puzzleness comes to an end and directs his attention to me.

“The implications of this. The unconscious, a field that has not really been explored too much. Exciting as it is, look at them” He bobs his head towards the yawning audience, already leaving for other stands.

“I get it. A small booth that isn’t getting the recognition it deserves. An exploration of the unconscious being shadowed by the -of course- more interesting ‘new contact lens model now has a new colour!’ “

“Mhmm… interesting. But no, it wasn’t that. I agree with you in that sense, though.”

Continuing after a brief pause, he then explains his main point. “I was referring to the unconscious. The concept. If there is a translator here, then that means that it ‘speaks’ in a different ‘language’. Translates the concepts of our untapped side of our mind into a cohesive language for us to understand. Invoking thought processes, storing of our sensorial surroundings, the true self, and more. All in the hands of corporations that will sell this for a couple hundred credits.”

He surely knows this field. A Primordial, huh? Never crossed my mind that one of them would be fascinated by this topic. My imagination pictured strong muscular men destroying everything with a single touch. It is comforting at least that he has some thoughts of his own.

Regardless, I’m starting to not want to hurt Green. He seems ‘nice’ in some regards; as in, looks good, his mannerisms are on point and dresses accordingly. Knowing your enemy beyond the surface level surely is not a tactic that I implement in my day to day life. Perhaps I’m being quick to judge him. Testing him will confirm some suspicions that lurk in my mind.

“Quite a pessimistic outlook, Green. The Imperator is backing this project personally, it seems.” Pointing at a label in one of the tables inside the stand, a mark of the IA emperor is visible. “Don’t you think that It has some sense of morale? Or are you saying that It is corrupt in some way?”

A slight twitch on his left hand forms a claw-like grip. Disturbing his train of thoughts, I continued “The Imperator. I don’t think I can trust It if It wants to enter my unconscious mind. Who knows what It might be capable of.”

For a microsecond, his stare sanguinity rivalled the most fearsome enemy in my entire career. Akin to a psychopath when his victim discovers that he is, in fact, going to be murdered. Cruel hypothetical scenarios flooded my mind, as a skull crushing pressure makes me hold my breath and open my mouth ever so slightly.

If I had blinked, I would have missed it. Sunglasses tainted black saved me on this occasion, as I positioned myself for him to think that I was staring at the Translator and not at him. The exterior fogginess of the sunglasses also covered how my eyes flinched after sensing his horror inducing gaze.

What is this monster?

Green, with a more calm stance, inspects the booth again, diverting his eyes from me. “I don’t think you know anything about the Imperator. You should stop spouting nonsense. It can get you hurt.”

“I have a right to my opinion. And if someones mad enough to use violence against me, then so be it. I’ll react accordingly.”

After that, he starts to slowly get his hand closer to me. “One,two…” Almost not catching it, a whisper from him unsettles my primal instincts, causing my body to react on impulse.

My forearm feels a pressure that I’ve never felt before. A tight grip ensnares me into place. With only my electric revolver at my disposal, a future where I come out on top is not plausible. Alas, it is my only option.

“Three.” Muscles flex to prepare themselves for the worst. Knees bend ever so slightly for quickness on my steps.

The revolver gets picked up from my waist at lightning speed by my right hand. Activate the said gun as soon as I get the chance to aim at him, at point blank in front of his face. Every action is planned out for the moment he attempts something. I dare you, Green.

All this sequence gets postponed due to a sweeping wave of relief reaching my ears. “Hahaha, I’m just kidding. I just wanted to see your reaction. C’mon, don’t be so stiff! You’ll ruin yourself like that.”

What was that countdown all about? And his grip… It felt like a lion, mercilessly ripping through his prey with his claws. The pressure is still reverberating throughout my body.

“I just wanted to verify if you were all talk or you could actually stand up to real strength. Glad that you are able to!” Smiling through his words, a sense of dread fills my mind.

If worst comes to worst, will I be able to take down this monster?

His arm has to be augmented. There is no other possible way a human possesses such brute force. On top of that, some resemblance of thinking thoroughly goes on in his head, given that his opinion on the Translator seems to have taken at least some minutes to process.

“What a powerful grip you have there. Augmentation? Or you hit the gym too much?” Nonchalantly, I try to sound as calm as possible. Showing of weakness in front of such powerful creature is suicide.

“Augmentation. In fact, It is a new model that I have right here. Gravitational forces make it so the detachment of the arm is an actual detachment.” Just like the one Juliette has. Although he seems more proficient in its use. A lot more. Understandable, given the fact that he probably has more experience handling the arm.

Being a new technology, adaptation seems to be a weapon in his arsenal. Good to know.

“Would you consider this Translator as an augmentation?” Curious on his thought processes, a question of definitions is an acceptable starting point.

“Mhmm… I don’t think so. This toy is just a purely experimental device to fiddle with the minds of the populace. Augmentation leads to the execution of an individual's execution of the idea of the self.”

Strength and self thought. At least he's not a dog entirely controlled by a leash. Dialogue with him can be a procedure to count on, though his impulsive reaction to my questioning of the Imperator’s intelligence makes me wonder what actually goes on in his mind.

“Actually, our encounter is not a coincidence, Julian. You seem worthy of this piece of information.”

“Mhmm, what do you mean?”

“C’mon, don’t play with me! The CEC surely didn’t send a coward to my precious lands!” Years of experience and yet, a knot on my throat tied itself tightly.

While still not looking directly at me, he continues. “Our minds really are a wonderful niche on its own. Britannia is trying its hardest to be a pioneer in that particular aspect. As such, Translators on the Primordials are a must to research what makes them unique. Funnily, we can sense each other's translator. I’m the only one present in this event and yet, I sensed a frequency that I haven’t felt before.”

“Go straight to the point.” A remark with a calm voice to solidify an imposing figure to match his intimidating, yet sometimes childlike presence.

“It is you, Julian! Those bastards at CEC have wired your brain to see through that piece of shit that you are!” He cannot see it, for the sunglasses are reflecting the light coming from the ambient. If he were able to see, my wide open eyes would make him laugh.

My lungs lack breath, my stomach doesn’t growl from its emptiness only because a resemblance of self preservation still controls my body. Shoulders drop from the exhaustion of just living. Flashes of an entire life circle through my mind.

A machine. They always told me that I was only a machine. A function and a purpose, nothing else inside me. What I’m capable of is the only definition of my sense of self. What I thought about or my opinions never mattered.

As fame and power came along, and thus pride emerged to keep the avalanche of success growing. Young and proficient, everyone desires to have what I have. If only they knew how lonely it is.

Individualization. The achievement of the centuries was at the palm of my hands. Content with my progress so far, a bucket of ice cold water drowned that emotion into the pits of the ocean that is I. All of those struggles, the totality of my lifetime.

My unconscious, which is a sailor in a submarine submerged in the deepest sections of the ocean named I, is just another terabyte of data stored somewhere in the CEC, awaiting an examination in the near future.

I… am naked. Who is it that is talking right now? A merge of my consciousness with its distant other side, untouched as its only characteristic that prevents me to reach plenitude. Even these thoughts are being recorded. Collapse, remember that. I would describe it like that, if you are interested, Mr Agent of the CEC in charge of reading my naked mind.

Only dread envelopes my thoughts, as even this conclusion of myself is being recorded and interpreted for its further inspection.

Collapse. Collapse and rebuild yourself, Julian.