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Ghods Charles al'Demichase XIV

stream-source: ▓▝ -̵̵̛̬̭̠͚̦͕̜̮̉̓̀ͨ̊̊ͫ͢͝-̶̡͓̼͈͖̤̪̠̒̍̀̀͛̓͜-̡̭͕̤͙̃-͇̣̥̰̱̼ͫ͛ͮ̊̚͢҉̊--̡̢̹̪͇̦̎̒̒̋̀̄ͯ̎͟͜͝-̙̃-̸̢̜͓̪͚̭̞̳̺ͭ͆̓ͥ͒͗̀͌͑̒-͎͔̬͇̙̹͚̞̅̅̋̃ͤ̕͘̚͝ͅ-̵̨̡̺̝͚͙̏ͬ͂̐ : compiling - tt-rr-321561--▝▁
acvX.-̵̵̛̬̭̠͚̦͕̜̮̉̓̀ͨ̊̊ͫ͢͝-̶̡͓̼͈͖̤̪̠̒̍̀̀͛̓͜-̡̭͕̤͙̃-͇̣̥̰̱̼ͫ͛ͮ̊̚͢҉̊--̡̢̹̪͇̦̎̒̒̋̀̄ͯ̎͟͜͝-̙̃-̸̢̜͓̪͚̭̞̳̺ͭ͆̓ͥ͒͗̀͌͑̒-͎͔̬͇̙̹͚̞̅̅̋̃ͤ̕͘̚͝ͅ-̵̨̡̺̝͚͙̏ͬ͂̐-͖̜̥͈͕̼̓̍ͭͮ́̿͑̔̕ͅ-̵̸̱̬̠̪͑̒͛ͮͨ̀ͭ́̔̌̕͢ͅ-̶̵̨̜͉̹̫͌͗̑̀̄̐-̰ͣͦ̉̑͒ͧ̚̚-͙̗͍̂̋̌͌-̹̅̆̈-̡͖̠̟̞̀̇̊̀̉͏͘-̶̴̱͇̋̈ͪ̌̆ͪͬ͋͜͠͞-̶̷̥͗̋̒̈́͋̔tvdgs░g-g-nn-3.16.a.n+̸̸̴̣̠̠͍̦̫͂̓͗̐ͨͭ͘+̴̧̻̰̦̯́͊͒͗͌̐ͥͩ̐ͭ̔͟͞+̜̻͙̪̞ͥ̓ͯ̇̀͜͡͝͞+̫+͚̟̝͔̠̙̗̤͛̅̉̿͒̓ͬ͊́̚-̵̘̳̻̫̜̆ͥͯ̏͆̍͝͏̓-͕̰ͬ͂͛-̸̧̯̮̣̙͒ͣͧ̀͗҉̷͉̳̀ͣ̂ͪ͠-҉͓-̮̩̰̪͙̹̇ͪ̆̄͂̈ͧ́́̐́͘+̸̸̴̣̠̠͍̦̫͂̓͗̐ͨͭ͘+̴̧̻̰̦̯́͊͒͗͌̐ͥͩ̐ͭ̔͟͞+̜̻͙̪̞ͥ̓ͯ̇̀͜͡͝͞+̫+͚̟̝͔̠̙̗̤͛̅̉̿͒̓ͬ͊́̚-̵̘̳̻̫̜̆ͥͯ̏͆̍͝͏̓-͕̰ͬ͂͛-̸̧̯̮̣̙͒ͣͧ̀͗҉̷͉̳̀ͣ̂ͪ͠-҉͓-̮̩̰̪͙̹̇ͪ̆̄͂̈ͧ́́̐́͘xciv.xc -̧̞̤͖̠̲̳̺̓͛ͩ͊͗͛͌̀ͦͤ-̷̵̩̲̲̞͈̯̣̬͔̭̈ͬ̓̏̐ͦ̚̕-̮̥̳̙̀ͣ́-̠-͍-̧̺̮͖̱̣͋́͛̈́̿-̷̣̰̭̣̘̻̲̑͋͌ͮ͝-̰̙̤͔͐ͨ̿̒́͝͞-͇͍͖ͪ̆ͦ̚-̵̻̲̼͇̜̉ͦͯ́̆̌ͪͦ͠ͅ-̴̤͓̣͔͊ͤͣ̃-͖̭̞̘͇̲͓̾͌-́͊-͚̀̚-̷̍̒ͩ҉-̛̩͇̏ͣͨͭ̈́̿̾ͫ́ͧͯ͡-̟̍-̯͈ͩ͏̸̠̪̾̈́̾-͋--̨̯͗͛̎̅ͮ: bb-26131-oe-itv--11

As Ghods awoke, he realized instantly that he wasn't really awake. He was standing on the surface of a pool of water. All around him was a deep indigo sky, above and below, littered with stars. He tried to walk towards the edge, but there was none. He could see the horizon, but he never got nearer. The stars were always an infinite distance, yet just barely out of reach. He was in a void, the only sound he could hear was the splashing of this water that he couldn't fall through. Was he dead? "Unfortunately not", a voice behind him said. He spun around, not having heard anyone move besides himself. A young... boy?...girl?... was sitting, looking at silver wisps that danced through her fingers, almost as a solid smoke, tangible, strong and light. The child was moving the strands, observing one string, then the next. Learning from the wisps. He/she/it was wearing a white nightgown with white ribbons suspended on nothing, yet floating around as if underwater.

"Who are you?", he asked, still dazed from the illogical environment he found himself in.

"We are Netsakh. We are Mercy. Your blessing."

"My blessing is a nutsack-" No sooner had he said the words, the ribbons that had been suspended in the air had wrapped tightly around his throat and arms. He felt immense burning all over his body, and he saw into the world of the living briefly. Electricity was arcing from his skin to the bed. The sheets had been burnt to ashes almost instantly, and the smell of burning flesh was intense. He slipped back into the dream-space, and the child had become red and black, save it's skin, which remained white as before. "Mercy is wasted on the insolent. You will act respectfully, or we will remove you"

"Fine, fine, fine. I'm sorry. I just have no idea what or who you are." The ribbons released him, and he collapsed. He was sure, now, that this was all in his head, and also that his neural inhibitors had long since worn off. If he didn't get up and fasten his helmet on soon, he would be burnt to ashes by his own mind.

"Do not worry about your enhancements. We control those, and we control you."

"Ok, before you claim dominance over me, please tell me who, or what you are."

"We are Netsakh. We are your Mercy, and your blessing in the light."

"Ohhh, I get it." He waited a few seconds before saying in a grated whisper "I don't get it."

There was a short silence. Ghods decided that the child was female, and as he decided it, her physical features became more feminine. Her hair extended to waist length, and her movements became slightly more delicate. She seemed to take notice, but not care. She handed him one of the strands that she had, a brightly shining one, short in comparison to the others. He took it, and visions played in his eyes. He saw Cortana's aura fill the room, smothering, suffocating, and yet comforting him. Her eyes were glowing. He suddenly recalled what he was doing, and how he had got there. Realization hit Ghods like a Gull with it's engines cut. He knelt on one knee, finally understanding that the very gods he worshiped were before him. "You're a Light... for me?"

"You show reverence in understanding. Perhaps worthy of the Light after all." Netsakh was already curious. The darkling's memories were scattered, yet very informative. They had learned much. This one had been a very social creature. There was much that they could emulate to make submission and assimilation easier. There was, however, a source of annoyance. This darkling had much more control over it's mind than others. It had used a medical instruction to conduct experiments on itself. It had strengthened its mind and nervous system. Netsakh could control it's output easily, however, the consciousness was unlike any darkling that had been brought to the Light before. Netsakh could not even access all of its memories. Netsakh's appearance in it's mind was completely at the will of the darkling, a disgusting thought. "You have seen Voidrunners. You have seen Predators, Archons, Mindnodes, Purifiers, Void-minds, and even Great Minds. Yet you have never seen Blessings. Only the blessed." Connecting this mind would prove to be difficult. There could not be force exerted from Netsakh. Only convincing. It was a great fortune that the mind was already convinced.

"I have always done as told. Despite my curiosities, I never strayed from orders. I did my duty well" The answer reassured Netsakh. They decided that the best option would be to form positive relations with the darkling. Full control was already established, simply with extra steps in between. Direct control could be asserted later. Looking further through the darkling's memories, Netsakh devised a plan.

Ghods thought he was done for. His first day being a lightbearer, and he had already screwed up to infinite measures. Imagine making fun of a god's name to their face. He stayed on his knee, silently praying to not get struck down for a single stupid move. He heard a rattle that he knew all to well, followed by a small splash. He did not dare raise his head, but he knew with absolute certainty that a cup with paint brushes, just like he used to have as a child, had some how gotten here, and had been dropped onto the solid surface of this lake of stars. "Raise your head, fool. You recognize that our physical form does not match what you see before you, yes?" Ghods raised his head. There was, in fact, a cup full of paint brushes in front of him. Netsakh was sitting on a small white folding stool, legs crossed, watching him with an expression he couldn't exactly read.

"Of course. The great Light's would never really take the form of a human. I doubt the cellular makeup would even allo-"

"Silence. As long as you understand that the vision you see is in your own mind, then that is all you need to understand." She sighed, almost defeatedly, before continuing. "Then we will allow you to form a vision to your liking." She gestured to the paintbrushes.

Ghods wasn't sure what this meant, but he never disobeyed orders. He had added painting to his list of talents when he was young, something to pass the time, and for people to praise him on. He understood he was at least partially dreaming, so logic did not need to define his actions. He took the brush, testing on the corner of her nightgown. Nothing happened. He tried again, this time attempting to add frills, so as to make a more visible test. As he moved the brush across, the fabric simply warped, adding what he had imagined into the reality of that space. He formed an idea in his head, a wine-red dress,a military style, but with a frillier form. Black ribbons for accent, with a small bow in her hair. As he began painting, he noticed that she didn't flinch in the slightest. She maintained her pose perfectly as he painted a new reality onto her. He colored the ribbons that she already had, and that she had nearly killed him with the same red as her dress. After a while of walking around her, painting her clothes, painting her red and black shoes to match her dress, and a small red bow in her hair, he finally snapped from his miniature trance. Her expression had not changed in the slightest, and he couldn't read it at all. It may have been disapproval, unimpressedness, or simply uncaring, but it was neutral all the same. She stood, and held one of the thin memories in her hands, studying it. She then stood on the stool, and did a single twirl. "Do you find this creation to your liking?"

"Of course. I would only choose the best for a perfect creation."

"Then, to you, this shall be our appearance." Netsakh recognized what they were wearing. This exact dress was one that the darkling had seen on a daughter of a different darkling. He had remembered it, but he hadn't. Clothed in jealousy. What irony. Netsakh took a memory that was drawn to the dress, and saw humans moving in such a way to place emphasis on the clothing. They did the same, and the darkling seemed to regain the self-reliant composure it had before Netsakh had revealed their nature. Netsakh watched the darkling, measuring it's response. Their plan had worked. They had stalled long enough to integrate into it's basic neural system. They were bonded, and slow, tedious assimilation had begun. It was time to exit this cognitive imprisonment, and reintroduce the outside world.

Netsakh had stepped off the stool and was walking towards Ghods. She reached out her hand. Ghods took it instinctively, not sure what was happening. He thought she was going to hug him, but that seemed a little off for a living god to do. That was, however, the motion she made. As she embraced him, he noticed something that he hadn't before. Her eyes were the same color as the space they were standing in, stars and all. Then she said: "We are bonded. Arise, and do our bidding", and the world faded to black

Ghods awoke on the bed, the smell of burning cloth and burning flesh strong in the air. He thought for a brief second that his mouth was sweating, then quickly rolled over, found a small garbage can, and threw up. His entire body shuddered, immense pain wracking him with every heave. He found pause to note his profuse sweating, watering eyes, and intense headache, before returning to his futile attempts to vomit with nothing in his stomach. Some number of seconds later, he simply collapsed to the ground. The weakness of his body, combined with the weight of the suit he still had on were far too much for him to carry at that moment. He looked for a clock, but didn't see one. He had no idea how long he was out for, but he would find out later.

When he had the strength to stand up, he did so, and looked into a mirror across the sink. All of the burn scars on his face had faded. He looked the same as he had 9 years ago, but there was a critical difference. His eyes were blue, where before, they had been dark brown, nearly black. Then he saw the girl from his dream standing behind him, wearing the dress he hand painted. He whipped around, startled, but she wasn't there anymore. "Don't do cardamine, kids." he jested hoarsely to himself before turning back to the mirror. She wasn't there, either. He simply placed it at the hands of fever hallucinations, that it would passed quickly. He picked up his helmet, but while he was looking into the eyepieces, he felt a delicate hug around his neck.

"Do not fear. We are bonded. Yours and ours are together now, forever." Ghods managed a smile despite his condition, recollection of everything that had happened in the dream coming to him fully.

"Putting it like that only makes it scarier."

"Soon, you will educate us in this humor, that lets you speak what you do not mean."

Ghods clicked his helmet into place, and did up the latch. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know. Such is my duty now." As his helmet connected to his suit, he felt the energy he once had no control over flow into the suit. It was his energy, now. He ran a few tests, becoming invisible and visible a few times. Satisfied, he looked around. Colors weren't bleeding into each other anymore, in fact, they were stronger than before. He could see clearly into the dark corners, despite his visual mods being off. He smiled, taking in his surroundings. He could see Netsakh hanging around his neck, her lower half floating by itself, but she wasn't in the mirror. He concluded that she was, in fact, a hallucination of sorts, just not one caused by sickness. "Well, I'm here to do your bidding", he said with a smile. "Call the shot."

.͈̤̺̼ͣͭ͞҉̘̀ͫ̉.͎̬ͦ̔ͧ̍̾̃̍̇ͣ͝.͕̺̰̘ͧ̏ͥͬ̃.̪͙͕.͏̖͉.̴̯̤̭̟̍ͣ̄.̩̩͖͙̻͓̞̏ͨ̈́͋͒͂͆̃͛͛͟.̙̭̳́̂ͤ̀͘.̲͇̹ͩ̾̆ͨ̀ͫ͘͞.̘͕̮̟̉ͯ̃̒ͮͩ̂͘̚͜.ͅ҉͗.̵̣͕̄.̷̶̩̰̮͖̹̍ͮ̅ͨͤ́̉̎̇ͨ̍.̵̡̦̓̉ͬͅ.̸̬̞͋͂͑ͭͤ̑.̱̉͟.͏̛̳̺̟.̷̝ͩ͛.̜͍̏̒͌͗͢.̪̠̙̩̥̟͑ͬ̑̀́ͭ̾̀--+̸̸̴̣̠̠͍̦̫͂̓͗̐ͨͭ͘+̴̧̻̰̦̯́͊͒͗͌̐ͥͩ̐ͭ̔͟͞+̜̻͙̪̞ͥ̓ͯ̇̀͜͡͝͞+̫+͚̟̝͔̠̙̗̤͛̅̉̿͒̓ͬ͊́̚-̵̘̳̻̫̜̆ͥͯ̏͆̍͝͏̓-͕̰ͬ͂͛-̸̧̯̮̣̙͒ͣͧ̀͗҉̷͉̳̀ͣ̂ͪ͠-҉͓-̮̩̰̪͙̹̇ͪ̆̄͂̈ͧ́́̐́͘

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