Glory in the name of

The parthenon, home to events of great importance in the country, is now the host of an unprecedented happening. For the first time since Its rise to power, the Imperator makes his presence known to the mortal residents of Olympus.

A hologram of high fidelity, shows a forty year old man with a grown out beard wearing a black suit, soaking up the attention of every present living being inside the room. A menacing yet decisive look in his eyes makes the human senses think that a real person is on the stage.

Calmly walking around the circular stage, the footsteps reverberating through the hearts of the attendants causes silence to envelop the place and the applause accompanied with screams of ovation come to an end.

Seriousness and professionality radiate from the man made hologram depicting a figure for the populace to empathise with. A mascot, with the sole purpose of attenuating and warming the souls of everyone present, to make them believe that the Imperator is close to being human.

In order for the hologram to be clearly visible, through the whole circumference, walls erupt from the floor to create a closed space. The whirring of the machinery to complete such a feat is the only sound that can be heard.

“Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the Further, Beyond.” With speakers creating echoes throughout the gigantic room, the voice of the Imperator is heard loud and clear. A cacophony of applause responded to the first words ever spoken by this hologram figure.

Ovations and cheering come to an end after a few seconds. “As many of you may know, this is my first holographic appearance since my rise to power. Thus, a shallow presentation would not suffice your ever increasing expectations.” The Imperator takes a brief pause to ensure his audience is fully immersed in his deep voice.

“The Cold War, between the now extinct empires of the USA and the USSR. How does this relate to anything, you will ask. Bear with me.”

Immediately after, the dim light room becomes engulfed by Earth’s oldest partner: the night sky. Shining stars, nebulas and galaxies far away are now present thanks to the technological prowess of the Britannian Empire. The reflection in the audience’s eyes, bombarded by such a stimulus of wonders far from the reach of a human, mirrors the thousands of dots in the obscure yet captivating blanket of the universe, stretching into the unknown infinity.

Glimmerous and flickering, the celestial bodies are scattered in a chaotic yet natural order. In spite of the holographic demonstration changing the view every few seconds, the image remains static with a singular pair of heavenly bodies: the Earth and the Moon.

“In my studies of humankind, a certain pattern rose to conquer my mind. Your obsession over the divine made you research the above in search of answers. The space race in the 1950’s up until the end of said millenia captivated my developing machine heart.”

From the Earth, a speck of dust -in comparison to the satellites- could be seen making its way to the moon. That spaceship was created by the culmination of thousands of workers and geniuses to reach the moon in an attempt to display to the world the power of their respective empires.

“Ever since the dissolution of these pioneers in space exploration, no nation, city-state, monarchy or empire dared to conquer the infinity. Cowardice is not a value that I want for my people. Ergo, I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

With a gesture of his hand, the Imperator erased the image of the alluring night sky. Whispers start to grow as the darkness that was promised to be conquered is absent. Expectations arise, temperature in the room goes up and only breathing is heard from the thousands of attendants.

A letter V fills the gloom. Slashing sounds come from the speakers as the middle section of the V is cut, making space for the word ‘Verne’ to appear.

“From this day onward, I will dedicate our resources to conquer the stars. To grab what is out of our reach! To instil hope in the hearts of every human being that not even the sky's the limit! To reach the further and beyond with my guidance… I announce the start of The Verne Project.”

His voice had risen to have more impact on the viewers. A brief pause with silence wrapped the parthenon. Applause and screams overcame the emotions of a kid near Murph. Only a second later, an explosion of inharmonious noise drowns the previously silent room. Saying that only elation imbues the masses is a correct assessment of the situation.

A new objective in common, a goal only depicted in the dreams of visionaries is now a reality in the near future. Even the chairmans and CEOs of the various companies that are in balconies have their jaws on the floor. Drones make their presence known through pyrotechnics with explosions reminiscent of the galaxies and nebulas depicted earlier. Cyan, magenta and yellow occupy the skies in a triumphant manner for the audience’s heart is pumping quicker as if they are participating in a marathon.

Regardless of this explosion of raw sentiment, displeasures and complaints begin to erupt in spite of the stellar production. A mysterious figure is cutting his way through the undergrowth to the centre, pushing aside everyone that steps on his way. The unknown person hastily reaches the stage and climbs on top of it.

If he wasn’t hiding behind the opaque sunglasses, his eyes would embody the rage of a bull charging towards a red cape. Confusion takes over the parthenon, as the cacophony comes to an end in the presence of an unwanted intromission.

Mass incertitude also infected the minds of the silver haired girl and her Captain. Hesitant, Juliette wants to step in, only being stopped by a motion of Murph’s hand. “Trust in him. He might be disturbed now, but he’s a professional.”

Julian points Lorentz towards the hologram of the emperor. In a husky yet determined voice, he exclaims “Imperator, I am here for your throne.”

Hanging back for a moment, he then continues.

“You work towards bettering humankind? How can we know that you’re not programmed to be our demise? You are just another machiavellian leader working for his interests only. Whom’s interest is it then? The corrupt elite scheming against us, the people?”

Uncertainty takes over the leash holding the audience. Some are considering him a maniac, others start to wonder if what he’s saying is true. What’s clear is, a disruption is now present, even if it is ever so slightly, doubt lurks the minds of the skepticals. Julian gains confidence from the crescendoing murmurs and continues.

“Who knows what It is thinking, if It actually is capable of such a human only feat. Wake up, people! A machine took over the future of this empire. Will you let such degeneracy lead the destiny of Britannia? Do you need the help of the divine to suppress and conquer your inner self to reach the heights that It promises?”

News outlets are now recording this intervention with their manually driven drones, circling around the stage to take a better picture than the competition.

The thousands present are now in a dilemma: is the disruptor in the right? Or should they follow the guidance of the Imperator for a brighter future? Whichever the right train of thought is, a rift is now present.

“Fuck you, Imperator!”

“What did you just say!?”

“Leave us alone, cold hearted machine!”

Dissidents only needed an outlet to show their discontent with their current political ruler. Julian showed up and took the role of the opposition.

One would think: Why are there so many dissenters in Olympus, the favourite child of New Athenas, where prosperity abounds everywhere you look? Simply put, many organisations are against the Imperator, whether the reason is money, power or fame; it does not matter. The fact that a small itch that can be scratched by the one who dares to oppose the government of the empire itself serves for a scapegoat.

On the other hand, half of the presents here are in fact, corporate slaves. Bound to predatory contracts, they serve a lord to be granted the possibility to live. Sent to appease the lord above them all, favours and blind eyes to their actions is what these corporations look for. Thus, seeing a glimmer of hope lets them put their fantasious dreams of a worthy life appear, an instinctual yet suicidal reaction absobrs their minds: revolution.

A win-win situation. Julian now has the attention of the entire empire at the palm of his hands. If he were to die right now, a martyr would be born. On the other hand, if he is left alive, a weak image of the ruler will be promoted.

Once filled with admiration and worship, the people now succumbed to that primal instinct named revolt. Arguments between the thousands of listeners penetrate the ears of every person for discordance is present in every spoken word.

The Imperator, who maintains a calm demeanour with his hands at his back, intently listening to everything the young man shouted, let out a slight smile backed by malice in his prefabricated ‘mind’. Amidst the ruckus of slaves arguing with other slaves and the whirring of the drones adjusting their camera lenses, the Imperator raises his hand and points his index finger at Julian.

The young man experiences a tingling in his fingers and feet. The prospect of battle, a sentiment that he knows too well, eclipses his inner thoughts which are already in conflict. Killing his insecurities and trauma in the name of glory and pride to appease his disturbed mind. An escape from the crushing reality that he lives in.

By snapping Its fingers, devoid of any cultural nuances to signify anything, signals Green to act. Hidden in the middle of the audience, he runs passing by everyone and jumps on top of the stage. His face, which was covered in clothes to hide his identity, now exhibits a reddened face with a gaze that could burn hundreds of villages; his only restraint is the will of the Imperator.

“Run rampant, Green. Until not even his bones remain.” The hologram then disappears, leaving Julian against the Primordial Green, only being illuminated by the pyrotechnics launched by the drones.

“You prideful bastard!” A killing intent hungry for his next prey awakens within Green.

Starting to run, steel claws replace the fingers of one of his hands. Demonic, would be the first thought of someone from the audience if they were able to see. The dim lighting of the stage lets Green express his innermost self. His stance resembles that of a cheetah’s, almost crouching to be quicker.

Julian’s unconscious and conscious mind have a temporary treaty: they unite to combat adversity, and then they part their ways to be independent again. Such union was possible as the existence of his unconscious was made aware that it is in fact alive. A fusion to keep the young man’s mind stable through the main desire that has kept him going forward throughout the years: glory and recognition.

A short-term delusion, which its existence only strives for one goal only: survival. 

 Instincts once again reign supreme over Julian. He points his gloved hand toward Green, who is already at arm's length. In an instant, the claws that want to behead the young man come to a stop by a gravitational force field. Surprised with such technology, the Primordial’s eyes open wide but sooner rather than later, reacts accordingly. Green sweeps his right leg, which in turn makes Julian fall over.

Lorentz, in a quick response to accommodate for its user’s commands, deattaches its steel-like pieces and directs them to hover around Green’s neck, forming a circle around him. The circle of sharp blades is diminishing in size while rotating around its target. Rapidly, Julian uses his GSE Glove to propulse himself from the floor, clumsily landing on his feet. Slightly smiling, the disruptor is surprised by the actions of Green.

“Petty tricks don’t work on me!” Irritation starts to grow on the claw user, prompting him to reveal more of his abilities.

Blood starts to drip from the Primordial’s neck. Strangely, the blades can only cut his skin. Evidently so, Julian is startled for a second, only to exchange this confusion for elation and thrill of the unknown.

As the blades don’t have enough force to cut through Green’s flesh, Lorentz is commanded to return to its normal ‘katana state’. Julian in the short period that the whip katana re attaches itself, takes his revolver and shoots holographic bullets to his enemy. Being hit by these, Green only laughs at Julian’s attempts to damage him.

Being hit by the holo-revolver, electricity circles through Green’s body; made obvious by the forks of lightning that show up in the area where he is being shot at. This only aggravates his mental state, for he takes it as an insult that Julian thinks that such a weak weapon could damage him.

What Green doesnt know is that Julian is only doing so to gain more time to think. Calculating possibilities and contemplating which scenarios are favourable for his mission are only a portion of the 17 year old boy's train of thought. After some overthinking, he then proceeds to run straight into the unkillable monstrosity in front of him.

Throwing his pistol to his adversary’s face, he deattaches the tip of Lorentz and sends it flying with extreme force to break the pistol mid air. Doing so provokes a small-scale explosion in Green’s face.

“Ughh, you annoying brat!” perturbed by the explosion, he takes a step back only to see that a smoke screen was created. Now understanding what Julian wants to do, he prepares his clawed hand to do an upper hook when he approaches.

The gravity user runs while preparing a force field in his gloved hand. A technique that he only supposes that it will work.

Closer and closer, the rain of pyrotechnics in the sky stops and the lights come back on. The smoke screen disappears just when Julian reaches Green. Leaping towards him, the punch from his gloved hand connects in his enemy’s face, sending him off the stage. Exhilaration from this result is cut short by a sting in his body. The blue formal shirt is now covered in a magenta colour in his abdomen as four stripes of blood leak and fall to the ground.

Thanks to his equipment, the pain is only half of what it is supposed to be. Otherwise, a hell of suffering would be falling upon Julian. Shit, he exclaims in his mind as he sees that his plan has gone a little awry. The hunger to win overtakes him; the pleasure of battle clouds his mind as his opponent is stronger than expected.

People come to realise the situation at hand as Green fell on top of a couple of corporate slaves. Not all of the audience notices this as eruptions of complaints are the main problem at hand. Unfortunately, those below Green begin to scream in agony if they haven't already been killed by his landing.

To the misfortune of those present, the two battling beasts only have eyes for the walking abomination of the other. Rising slowly, the fury of a bull that flowed within him has disappeared in favor of analysis. As he scrubs the blood from his body, he realises that Julian is not tending to his wounds.

Huh? I was sure I ripped through his flesh and bones. In a moment of calmness, he assesses a weird occurrence. The muscle memory ingrained in his unconscious is certain that it was enough to kill him. Must be that clothing of his.

On the other hand, Julian is a bit disoriented with his bleeding combined with the bright lights that have recently come on. A sense of relief flows in him as he thanks Leonard for such an incredible technological feat.

Without wasting any more time, Julian jumps off the stage to confront Green.