I roam through the long golden corridors constructed from raw interdimensional energy. Emitting a high vibrational brilliance, they emanate a natural, yet comforting ambience throughout the wards.
I cradle my hands behind my back as I walk on by at my own leisure, passing each room. All of them are assigned with an individualistic, multilayered aura, which conveys the patient's overall state of mental, emotional, and physical health.
The continuous overlaying and fluctuating hues show in great detail how their condition impacts them on an existential level. Prana specialists attend to their needs as well as maintain the upkeep of the facility.
Patients born from the astral or from the flesh arrive through the silent doors to seek healing. Interdimensional gateways.
Lost and desperate souls impaired by unfortunate circumstances actively search for this place. They believe that this is a place of healing. A popular and laughable belief among the unfortunate souls who have traveled so far to come here; however, when they cross over into his domain, they will quickly find that their souls will slowly begin to perish.
And by the time they realise it was simply a front – a lie – it is too late.
Ira had spread the rumor on purpose many years ago, just so he could lure unsuspecting visitors into his gargantuan world-sized soul for consumption. The only ones who are exempt from becoming a portion of sustenance are the Eckrhyne and myself.
Although there have been accidents.
I visually dissect each aura until a specific signature comes into view. I step through the auric barrier and into its threshold. Tingling vibrations shoot down from the tip of my horns, and a heavy pressure weighs down upon my crown. I lower my head, being mindful of the ceiling's height as I step inside the room.
A disfigured form lies on top of the operation slab, covered by severe burns and innumerable gashes. Her body is completely immersed in golden energy. I approach the edge of the slab, taking in the true extent of her injuries. Bones fractured and splintered. Collapsed lungs. Stomach imploded. Blood flows as a continuous, levitating river within the encompassing radiance.
Derived, filtered, and cleaned.
The energy at work reutilises the blood loss from her multiple organ ruptures. Regenerating dead tissue and repairing mangled limbs.
Her wearisome gaze meets my own.
Energy particles ceaselessly transude from the walls, feeding into the regenerative process - sustaining the energy at work. It was unlike her to lose to a situation.
An explanation is in order.
"To the point, Mya-im."
"An unidentified seed boarded the motherpod. Their auric signature referenced a future period in Terria's timeline. When the seed arrived, the mind of the core awakened and instigated a revolt. It slaughtered the majority of the underlings and deconstructed itself from the inside. I thought the timing correspondence was peculiar. Nothing more. But I have made a severe error in my judgment concerning our dire situation."
"Indeed, you have," I comment.
"The motherpod's systems were overridden and were set to return to Terria's orbit, but my recollection of its exact location is rather all too vague." As feeble and as strained as her voice is, the graveness in her tone is as clear as twilight.
"Years' worth of generational progression and genetic evolution within a single seed." She adds.
The seed in itself is evidence that a future generation exists.
If I can retrieve it, then not everything will end with him.
"Once all is said and done with that insufferable Hunni, we shall commence the after phase."
Once the partnership has ended, I will reclaim my right to a future generation without him and pave a new path of opportunity, as long as I acquire this seed without him knowing of its existence.
I will not tolerate failure, not even for myself.
"That smirk again, you should do it more often. It is becoming of you." Mya-im laughs weakly.
Am I smirking? Oh. So – it seems that I am. I will most definitely be smiling when I have achieved my objective, for time is of the essence.
For all shall eventually be reclaimed.
"Enough. Rest for now. Ira will be visiting you shortly." I assure her.
"He treats me like an adolescent. It's annoying."
"Founders are entitled to dote on members of their own race."
"You are the only one who doesn't shelter me like their offspring. You treat me as an equal. I've always admired and appreciated that part about you."
"Thank you, Mya-im. I appreciate your compliment; however, you do know that despite age or status, the consequences of those who fail or dare to illogically test me will indeed be permanent."
Our telepathic channel falls silent.
She is listening.
There is no indication or expression of emotion. She conceals it well.
How resilient.
She is fully aware of her blunder – and that will be enough - for now.
"Once you have properly healed and been discharged from the facility, I will come to collect you, for there is much work to be done." She nods. Giving no further reaction. I bid her farewell and exit the ward.
"My - you've certainly become lenient, haven't you?" Ira manifests at my side.
"Could your timing be any more obnoxious?" I walk ahead, then make a quick turn into the next corridor. He reappears next to me, walking in accordance with my increasing pace.
"Never thought about it to be honest, but I can be more obnoxious, if you want me to be," Ira remarked.
"I am not in the mood for your antics."
"Don't be like that - my dear Vonplex."
I tense up at the name.
I know how he enjoys teasing me and uses that name whenever he pleases. It evokes unpleasant memories. The very ones I yearn to scrape out of my neurological vault.
For each passing decade, my memories become contaminated and almost indiscernible. Inevitably fading from the passage of time within my cognitive space – and yet my past sentiments stubbornly remain. They cling to the lost. Refusing to relinquish past events.
"As my favorite visitor..."
"I am your only visitor," I interject. The majority who reside here are either his temporal patients or his seeded race.
"Please don't interrupt." He said.
I roll my eyes and huff.
"As I was saying, as my favorite visitor, you will always be my source of amusement." He claims in his usual uplifting demeanour. Then his shoulders slump and sighs, feigning disappointment.
"Goodness me. To believe it took you such a small duration of time to lose your social etiquette."
I ignore him.
"Direct your amusement elsewhere."
"Ah – well, you see, it's easier said than done since I find you a little distracting."
"There are prana specialists who require your expertise. I suggest you do not keep them waiting." For a reason beknownst to me, my agitation encourages his persistence, as he incessantly tries to converse with me. My mood has the complete opposite effect on him, and perplexingly so.
I want him at arm's length, not closer.
Even if I do find his gestures and quirks quite endearing, I cannot stay at his side. I care little for others; that much is true. However, my actions have not necessarily been kind or pleasant to him in the past.
I would rather have our relationship weaken and abate into nullity.
I know my path.
You and I both know that I cannot give you what you want. My mortality. His immortality. I was never predestined to be his other counterpart – his significant half.
"I don't expect you to reciprocate," Ira mutters. We stop, standing side by side.
"Do I need to remind you of the burdens and aging toll of mortality?" I add.
"No." His frolicsome demeanor turns somber.
"Then you should understand why I do not return the affection."
He doesn't answer. My life is full of consequential precariousness and impermanence. They are the result of the karmic implications I have brought onto myself.
He rubs his arms in self-comfort. Averting his forlorn gaze, refusing to look me in the eye. Beaded prana particles manifest and begin to dance around him. Conceived from the surrounding life force, the particles amalgamate to his delicate astral frame and immerse him whole. Then the bodily cluster dissipates, leaving behind an aureate miniature haze in his place.
"Farewell, Ira." I sincerely hope he does find Vonplex - for his sanity's sake.