Transcendence 0

DATE: 2000 B.C.E.
LOCATION: The Void
DOCUMENT TYPE: Cognitive Interception
TRANSCENDENCE 0: PROLOGUE
Falling...
Plummeting into the eternal abyss...
It was then and there that I had given up on life.
As darkness overtook my vision, I slowly accepted my unavoidable fate.
Forever, falling, yet I hardly took notice of the sensation.
I had no knife. I had no gun. No way to quickly end it.
I had never feared damnation, but I had no intentions of crossing its path.
Does one stop aging in the Void, or does time just feel slower?
Is there a boundary to this unbounded chasm?
Rumors have told of noclipping during a quantum fluctuation would lead to a fate far worse than death.
But why enter another purgatory if almost complete sensory deprivation would already be eternity?
Guess that's up to personal interpretation...
How long has it been?
It could have been days or weeks. And yet it may have been only a couple hours.
Time has never been a clear concept throughout the Backrooms.
May my fate rest among the darkness...
...
...
...
...
...
But then... the Voice pierced my empty mind, like a sharp ray of light piercing through the haziness of internal fog.
Child of carbon. A second chance awaits you.
What? Who's there?
I was never here. And yet, my presence can still be stretched to unfathomable boundaries.
...
A greater being?
You could say that.
So... to what do I the pleasure of this fateful conversation?
Eons ago, I was banished beyond the reach of the cosmos for the reason of finding balance.
Continue.
Ever since, I have been trying to find a worthy host to channel my power through to pull me out from the abyss I was exiled to.
A champion, you say...
Correct.
...
What do I have to do?
You mortals. Always so eager for power. In fact, we still haven't introduced ourselves, yet. What is your name, child of carbon?
Ah yes... it's been so long since I've said my own name...
Hopefully I haven't forgotten, yet...
...
My name is Thatcher. Yours?
Thetarius. My people once worshipped me. They named me the Transcendent Theta... until they blew me away into bits, my conscious sliced into miniscule fragments of life.
...
Very well. Bring me back to TRANSCENDENCE, Thatcher. Glory awaits you.
Category:Tales
Category:Logs