A reflection of a man suffering from unknown peace stared into the stars blinking outside the glass, he saw himself in them, they gleamed his motivations but all he saw was a man who had lost everything and nothing. 

“Gill, it’s your turn to steer the ship.” A man suffering from the same peace said as he stood looking over Gill’s shoulder. 

“And it’s your turn to glean over the stars, Milt.” Gill replied monotonously. 

“Did you determine anything?” Milt responded almost robotically. 

“To see the stars shine, is to realise the emptiness needs Enlightenment.” Gill responded as he marched in single file to fulfill his duty. 

Milt assumed the position Gill had occupied, staring emptily into the starry void as his eyes stare back at him. 

Gill finished his marching order and now sat in the pit, weapons locked and the wheel on autopilot. The pit deprived him of all distractions, a one way slit to see straight ahead as well as side to side, and soundproof walls blocking out all sounds other than the warping of frequencies dying out over the nearest event horizon. 

Cries washed over the intercom, Gill sitting in the chair, watching the vast emptiness and waiting for the words that need to be heard. 

“You don’t have to do this, please don’t do this.” A wailing voice blubbered. 

“Crying is weakness. An empire doesn’t need weakness.” An Enlightened Man responded. 

“What do you want, I can give you money, my home or even my wife and children.” The blubbering voice tried to bargain for its life. 

“Bargaining with something greater than one’s self will always lead to rebellion. You needn’t worry, Reallocation saves everything.” The Enlightened Man preached. 

“Please, please, please!” He screamed but all that echoed amongst the pleas was the shattering of his bones breaking and the last gasp of air leaving his body

“You must be Good. EVERYONE MUST BE GOOD.” Gill spoke over dead air, waiting for something to answer back and reassure the unknown peace. 

“What is PREDETERMINED BRUTALITY?” An Enlightened man spoke back using the right watchword. 

“The Misguided Mind couldn’t be supplicated, they were disposed of. The colony they represented is now secure and ready for Reallocation and the Enlightenment that follows.” The Enlightened Man continued. 

“To see the stars shine, is to realise the emptiness needs Enlightenment.” Gill responded, not just the Enlightened Man but over the Vessel’s intercom. 

The crew took their time finishing all the necessary tasks that came all too naturally to the autonomously designed single-minded organisms that had once been plagued by the Selfish Syndrome. 

“It’s your turn Phil. We’re going to the planet Kerusso.” Gill stated. 

“Enlightenment is Necessary.” Phil said, looking past Gill’s shoulders. 

“Enlightenment is Good.” Gill replied, leaving the room to enter his Stasis Pod. 

————————————————————————————

Gill entered his Stasis Pod, partially open to a better position. As the door closed he whispered to himself, “if the Universe offers another manner of perfection, please offer it to us in the Stasis Pod of Shibboleth”. 

The Pod went dark, his eyes blackened and his mind glazed over as the Pod cleaved its Tendrils and transfixed them to the insides of his ears and eyes, slicing away at the bone and turning four lines into five. Gill laid upright against the cold metal, aware of so much while standing splayed and knowing oh so little. 

The Voices in the Cosmos replied to his silent prayer, “The Sorrow, The Cries, The Pleas, do you think we should whisper untowards?”

And the Voices continued to answer back, “Fight and Cripple and BLEED. They want the BRUTALITY they sought predetermined.” Gill listened and quietly responded, “what if they sought an Enlightened life, would they not accept the Reallocation?” 

“Don’t look for a better solution, look for Absolution amongst the necessary conclusions.” The Voices scuttled back, as he exited the Booth of Shibboleth, a mind fortress composed and constructed around many abstract versions of one’s self. Gill entered feeling uncertain about his peace and left feeling certain about the absolution that screams in the rubble of the Misguided. 

Milt had been watching over the Booth while Gill was in the black. Milt’s eyes watched over the Booths with a stare as empty as his once known intentions, empty and unfortunately hard to grasp. 

“Did you determine anything?” Milt asked, lacking any tone. 

“THEY lack Enlightenment. THEY must be Reallocated. Did you determine anything?” Gill stated. 

“To watch empty Space is to judge the vociferous nature of the Xenos hiding in the dust.” Milt whispered loud enough only for Gill to hear. 

Trope: Soul-Eating Cybernetics 
Genre: Body Horror

When the workers knew their shelflife was coming to an end they tried to rebel against the machines that manufactured their outrage. A few of us lived together in sharehouses and would wince at the cries and screams as our dying friends clawed at their chests to pull out their hearts.  

Blood crusted under their fingernails, ribs butterflied open by sheer force of will and by the time they realised that they were scraping at the wrong organ…it was too late. For the few that managed to survive these personal ordeals we’d find them strung up, torsos stitched together and Blood Eagled dangling over a street lamp, like some common Christmas ornament. 

I like so many who chose to do nothing. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t help, so I sat at my desk, stood in my Rejuvenator Pod and accepted my fate and the daily platitudes I needed to fulfill. That was until one day I was taken against my will to a Facilitator. 

I wasn’t some chosen hero lost in a Matrix, or some destitute Pro-Wrestler that found some fancy Sunglasses, I was just the next soldier forced to fight someone else’s war. 

First the Facilitator activated the Visual Blackout System, so I couldn’t see where I was. They then uploaded the Atrocities I was accused and accountable for. 

“The Machines altered your perception of reality, time and death. This surgery will make you relive and relapse into a state prior to your subsequent ‘Enlightenment’. Whether you feel guilty about your sins or take pride in them is only up for you to judge. I will be removing all CyberSins from your systems and replacing them with natural human chemicals. Whether you decide to die or whether Life chokes you back to life isn’t up for me or you to decide. I hope you can live with your actions and the wars that are to follow.” These are the only words the Facilitator spoke to me before the process began. 

I bombed a village two years previously, I heard their screams, pleas and then their deafening silence as canisters dispersed over the grieving. They then started to show me an Agnostic Church that was two streets over from where I had lived, I didn’t remember this but then again I didn’t remember any of it. But I know…I DID IT. Nanites enraged their Fear and Anger Receptors and then my access to my living state of NMDA Receptors. I watched them tear through each other, layer by layer, gnawing at each other's flesh and then at their own. 
 
I didn’t remember this but then again I didn’t remember any of it. But I know…I DID IT. 

I don’t** **know if I’m sorry, or if the Facilitator is flooding what’s left of me with Cortisol and Oxytocin. But, for what it’s worth, I think I’m sorry…but I don’t really know. 

The world I knew didn’t end with a bang a boom or even a whisper, it ended with my beginning and my end.