The eyes never seen before (1)

Jonathan and the others continued walking through the city of that creature. Without a particular destination. They wanted to meet the creature, of course, but they didn't know where he might be.

All they could do was wander around the city, hoping to find it sooner or later. It was big, in other words, there were plenty of places to hide.

But they should be able to find him before nightfall.

They had to.

Jonathan was the only one who could see in the dark, thanks to the enhancements in his left eye. In other words, if night fell their low chances would border on zero percent.

So they couldn't afford to waste that much time. They had to find him, and the sooner the better.

Not only because time moved extremely fast, especially when you didn't want it to, and night meant death. Most of all because they weren't alone.

It would be easy to fool himself, if he wanted to, to tell himself that those sounds were something from wiring and machines out there, or natural noises from a house when the wind blew through them.

Yes, it would be very easy. However, his instinct wasn't fooling him.

There were eyes on them. Wherever they went, they were following them closely. If they were going to attack them they would have done so by now, perhaps, but it was still dangerous that they were being watched at all times.

Maybe they were first trying to gather information about them. Analyze them.

Or they were simply looking for the perfect opportunity to steal his pistol, knowing its great destructive power. Of course Jonathan wasn't going to take his eye off it, though. Jonathan gripped the Pistol even tighter.

He realized that he had thought of the Pistol as if it were not singular, unique in the world.

The future Roxy had spoken of had been burned into his heart, it seemed.

"I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I thought the trouble would start after we saw that thing," Mary said. "Where is it?"

Right. I'd like to know, too.

"Maybe he doesn't plan to show up in front of us. Maybe we'll be ambushed," Jonathan said. That way the self-proclaimed god wouldn't have to take any chances or get his hands dirty. "But don't do anything until it happens, okay?"

"Yes. We remember, don't worry," Jamie said.

He appreciated her attempt to reassure him, but he already knew that. He trusted them and knew he didn't need to say it. But how could he not worry?

There was too much at stake. Besides, he had lost his composure since his sister spoke.

He was better now, but still not one hundred percent. He supposed they could tell, too. That he wasn't his usual self.

"How many shots did you fire then? "Roxy blurted out, suddenly "Three, four?"

He couldn't remember. He was pretty sure he'd told her, that is, that it was a rhetorical question, so he kept quiet. And he was proved right.

Since Roxy didn't wait for his answer.

Besides, he had a feeling that wasn't the point, anyway.

"I wish we knew for sure how much we could depend on the Pistol," the girl continued.

At first Jonathan had feared that the Pistol had been depleted, or damaged in some way, for some reason. Roxy had used it to save them all from government agents, proving otherwise.

So it had recharged, or whatever it was, over time.

But how long exactly? They had no way of knowing, nor had they had time to conduct experiments, knowing that with every shot they fired they would provide the government with an opportunity to track them through tracking the weapon.

Jonathan had come to the conclusion that they had to assume that they could fire a few shots and then the weapon would take its time to reload.

That is, they had to assume they had to make every shot count, not use it as a wrecking ball, without any care, even if the truth was different.

He said nothing of the sort, however. He just said the following:

"Yes. No kidding."

Jonathan gripped the Pistol tighter, to try to conceal the trembling in his hands. His use of the Pistol could save his family's life or doom it.

So what, he said to himself. So what? As a leader, the weight of their lives is always in my hands.

And what a tremendous weight it was.

He had been carrying that weight for years, but that didn't mean he was used to it. It wasn't something you could get used to. In fact, you could say that as time went on, he found it harder to carry, rather than the other way around.

Because at first he hadn't really cared about them.

He didn't think they would amount to anything.

And now they were everything. Everything.

But, as he had said, he couldn't go back. They wouldn't change their minds either. He had no choice.

They continued to wander the streets. Without being ambushed, without encountering trouble.

But nothing useful either. Until they finally saw a building that, frankly, looked like a palace. It contrasted sharply with the rest of the city, as its design was older, yet it was not without touches of modernity.

Of course, neon lights were a must. They were everywhere. Personally, he thought the palace would look better without that decoration, if he let it embrace its side of rustic elegance, so to speak.

But that was unimportant. What mattered...

"Someone who thinks he's a god would definitely live in a place like this," Jonathan declared."

Certainly. A palace or a temple. Being of ancient design, it could certainly pass for both.

"Yes. It's planted there as if to draw anyone’s eye."

Look and fear me, he thought. Worship me.

If he was right about that, and nothing indicated otherwise, this city would be full of unwilling robotic ghosts like Max's settlement. Watching them silently, from the shadows.

But still, the self-proclaimed god felt the need to exalt himself. He couldn't live in an ordinary place. Even though he was alone.

They set off, up the stairs. Beyond them, beyond the large, heavy wooden doors, that abomination awaited them.

And his sister. His dear sister.

Ah, if only he could think it was only a ruse, an elaborate bait to lure him in. Then they would be far away.

But he couldn't. So they were destined to collide.

Oh, here we go.

Jamie shook his head, her eyes darting past the long stairs and continuing to the top of the building.

"This place is relatively hidden." Relatively, because it couldn't be seen from the road, hidden in a crevice in the earth, and it was far from civilization. But only relatively. "On the other hand, everything is so unnecessarily big. Elaborate and ostentatious. It's as if he doesn't really care about hiding."

"Maybe he wants to give the impression that he doesn't care," Roxy said softly.

Jonathan hadn't considered that, but he thought he knew what she meant. And that she was correct.

A god who felt the need to hide himself and his own from the eyes of the government. A god who needed the power of the Pistol he carried in his hands.

It was just delusions of grandeur, but he needed to maintain the image he had of himself.

"Anyway, here we go," Jonathan said.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Jonathan stepped forward, grabbing the doorknob, pulling. Because he thought maybe they had set traps. Or that there might be enemies waiting for them on the other side of the door.

So it would be best if he got the worst of it, as always.

That is, it was his responsibility as leader.

But he didn't set off any traps, and what Jonathan saw after opening the door was nothing more than a hallway as ostentatious and elaborate as the outside, as well as empty. Where was that thing? Why all the games?

It couldn't have run away.

Jonathan opened his mouth, for a moment considering ordering them to split up to cover more ground. Then he realized that that was a supremely stupid idea.

An idea that had only fleetingly crossed his mind because he hadn't slept a wink all night. Otherwise, he would never have considered it for a moment.

"Okay," Jonathan said, and paused to take a deep breath. That was a way to hide his indecision, to give himself time to think, more than anything else. "Let's move forward carefully, okay? I'm in a hurry. But this place could be full of traps. It's not worth it."

If he were that abomination, of course he'd want to end the fight before it started. That was always the ideal. Foul play didn't exist in matters of survival.

If that thing had a family, Jonathan wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap it and use it against it. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. They had investigated it as much as they could, and had found nothing, however.

That thing was so far from its original appearance as a human being that no easy search program would find anything.

And that was all they had, so....

In any case, what they had explored and had led them to nothing didn't matter. Now he was here. Focus.

Wandering around inside that palace was like wandering through the streets of this unknown city, with one important difference. He didn't feel anyone's eyes on him.

He felt no sign of any presence whatsoever.

But it couldn't be empty, he told himself. It couldn't, and it wasn't just because he didn't want to believe it. He had a good reason to think so: the creature wouldn't run away.

Whatever that thing was planning, it needed the power of the gun.

So it would still be here. Just like his sister.

At last they arrived before some large red doors. On each door was a row of golden lumps sticking out. At first Jonathan thought they were just yellow, but then he touched one of them. There was no doubt that they were made of gold.

Unnecessarily ostentatious. Like everything else.

But he had a feeling that the search was over. That if this was a palace, then beyond these doors was the throne room. And who sat upon said throne.

There it was, indeed. That inhuman abomination. He looked much bigger in person than on the television screen, because he had been close to the camera. And because of the safety of having it at a distance, he supposed.

But more importantly, his sister was there too.

It was as if she hadn't moved from there since the demon sent them the message. Waiting in silence for as long as it took.

Because there her sister was. At the creature's feet, chained. To top it off, she was naked from the waist down. That made it clear, beyond any doubt, that it was the body of a child.

Malnutrition had been nothing more than a stupid "theory" to keep denying reality until Jonathan could no longer do so.

Now Jonathan had the reality in front of his eyes. In other words, the time had come.

"Here you are, Jonathan Townshend." It had an irritating habit of referring to him by his full name, every time. If only the thing would stop. "I've been waiting for you. Looking forward to it."

Apart from the two of them, the throne room seemed empty. At least it seemed so. Even if he didn't feel anything, that didn't mean there was no one there.

Or rather, nothing. His instincts had been trained against and with humans.

Not robots.

Jonathan clicked his tongue and raised the Pistol in both hands, aiming it at the creature on the throne.

The latter didn't seem intimidated, even though it knew the fearsome power of the weapon. His expression didn't change one iota, to be more precise. Why, did he think Jonathan wouldn't dare fire, for fear of catching his sister in the blast wave of the explosion?

The enemy was such a big target that it wouldn't be difficult to shoot him in a way that would prevent his sister from getting hurt.

Was he stupid and didn't realize that?

No, it was not good to assume that the enemy was an idiot. It was lazy and tremendously stupid. At the very least, he had to assume he was on the same level as them.

So the answer was obvious.

In this room there was some way to neutralize the Pistol's energy wave. Either that, or the creature was confident it could withstand at least one shot.

It wouldn't be strange. Max had survived a gunshot, despite losing half his body in the process. He had said that Max had abandoned his humanity. That was true in more ways than one.

But this thing, whatever it was called, didn't even look human.

It had gone far beyond that.

It called itself a god, but it was less than human. Its form was truly repulsive. His team was watching him, their gazes seemed to be screaming at him to shoot.

But...

"How is that possible? “Jonathan asked.

"What do you mean?" The creature's voice boomed powerfully in the throne room.

"That," Jonathan growled, pointing the Pistol. "My sister. How is that possible? What did you do? And why? How long have you been interested in me?"

"Since a few days ago. This," the creature said, pulling the chain around his sister's neck, "was just a coincidence."

This. As if she wasn't even a human being.

Putting her not on the level of a slave, but on the level of an animal. Jonathan gritted his teeth.

"A... coincidence?"

"I don't want to waste time with explanations, but I'll at least tell you this. It's obvious I've been gathering strength for years. Working from the shadows. And your sister was lucky enough to become a part of it."

"Lucky. What do you call lucky, you bastard?"

"How else would you call the circumstances that now allow her to be in the presence of a god but luck? "The creature dared to laugh. "Well, I should say she was blessed. It was not mere luck."

Jonathan stepped forward, firmly.

"Explain yourself. Explain or I'll shoot."

The creature frowned.

"Human garbage, the drugs she was taking were no ordinary drugs. Her consciousness was transmitted and downloaded to a robot, then molded in her image. And now, after all these years, we're here. Any more questions?"

No. It had already confirmed to Jonathan that what he had feared was true after all.

That his sister was like the things that had attacked them in Max's settlement. Ghosts, but very real, of wires and electricity.

She possessed self-awareness, though. She could talk.

Jonathan didn't need to know why she was an exception, if she was, and Max's army wasn't the real exception.

He had heard more than enough. Jonathan took another step forward. The throne room was so empty that even that sound reached far away.

"Can gods die?" Saying that, Jonathan pulled the trigger.

Was it the best decision or a terrible mistake? He couldn't tell. Fuck, he couldn't even think anymore.

The fire of his rage rose above everything else.

The white wave of energy shot out smoothly, aimed at the abomination. Not directly, because that way he would risk killing his sister as well, but even an indirect hit should be enough to kill the creature or at least leave it severely injured.

Despite that, the enemy didn't seem worried.

In fact, it hadn't even moved from the throne.

Why? Even if he was pretty sure it could withstand at least one shot, why not even try to dodge it? That demon gave him the answer shortly thereafter.

Simply put...

It had no need for it.

A sort of golden force field, with a shape reminiscent of a honeycomb, rose up in front of him and his weapon. The wave slammed into the force field, pushed against it for a few seconds, but eventually disappeared.

Maybe it had damaged the field, maybe it hadn't, but in the end the energy had lost the battle.

"Shit," Jonathan mumbled before he realized it.

"You shouldn't have underestimated me. You'll never get another chance, Jonathan Townshend."

His sister still wouldn't look at him.

She hadn't looked at him once since they'd walked in. Jonathan knew it wasn't what he should be focusing on right now, but still that fact was tearing him up inside.

Because this might be goodbye, after all. And because...

Her brain, her memories, were there. All the information. And as such, there was no difference between the girl in front of him and the real person, for there was no such thing as a soul. That information was everything.

However, it seemed as if she was turned off. She wasn't a human being. She was a robot under the control of that creature?

Was she?

The horrible truth that Jonathan had wanted to look away from the first moment. The horrible truth that had made him vomit. The truth of what they had done to her, like the poor bastards in that settlement. The extent to which they had raped her, even though she, unlike them, retained some degree of self-will and ability to communicate.

And now she is going to watch me die.

Thick black wires, like tentacles, extended from the ceiling. Before Jonathan could react, they grabbed his arms and legs.

Twisting the arm holding the gun, of course.

To pull it away from the creature.

That indicated that it could get to the enemy, that it could hurt him. But that knowledge wasn't going to help Jonathan much, now that he was trapped.

His family screamed, being caught by the same wires. Jonathan gritted his teeth. Savagely, he swung the sword, trying to cut his way to freedom.

But the sword went nowhere. It was pushed back.

Now he was completely trapped, with no way to escape. Was that the truth? Would it really all end here and now? He looked at them, all around him, in the air, held by the same tentacles, engaged in the same futile struggle to free themselves.

Jamie struggled to hold on to the staff, but it was snatched from her. His pistol had not yet been snatched from him, but it was only a matter of time.

Sooner or later the Pistol would be ripped from him, and it might just take his arm with it. Ripping it right off. He almost saw it flailing in front of him, detached from his body, spitting blood like a sprinkler.

"You have disappointed me," the abomination said. "But as a god, I can afford to be magnanimous. Perhaps I will give you what you desire, the reunion with your sister. Normal happiness with your family. Once you open your eyes. I will show you the truth, as I have shown so many others."

Jonathan stared at the bastard. What was he talking about? Nonsense. Nothing but the ravings of a madman. But then a familiar feeling came over him.

Like when he lost consciousness in the fight against Max, and suddenly found himself in a very different place. A mental plane.

Vaguely, he realized Jamie was looking at him. Her lips moved, murmuring a goodbye. She'd given up, and he... Well, at this point it wasn't a matter of giving up or continuing to fight. He was done.

Yes, indeed. He quickly lost consciousness.

And when he opened his eyes, everything had changed.