Disconnected from reality and dimensions loke time and space, there are the Eternals. Not subsumable in quantity and nature. The Eternals embody pure intellect, which is atemporal and infinite. Every individual represents a part of this collective and is in a state of give and take, without being defined. There is absolute symmetry and consistency.
The time originated, when it came to an anomaly within the structure of the Eternals. Caused by the inconsistent character of time and their inevitably results like matter, life, good and evil, the Eternals were plunged into a state of enduring suffering, distress and restlessness. They experience the time as an evil nightmare, from which they try to awake, without knowing how or when, because they don't know those terms.
Parts of the intellect were hoicked from the entirety into the substantial dimension. Some of them recognized what they used to be immediately and wanted to go back. Others forgot about their miraculous origin, but they kept their drive to symmetry and perfection.
Only a small percentage retained the knowledge about their true origin. But this hand full of individuals didn't pursue the old state. They took pleasure in the chaos and the impermanence and didn't see any reason to go back into the collective ever again.
"Jibran Marid? I guess he's one of those nasty strays... lock him up with the others!"
The officer turned around on his seat and forgot about Jibran just in this moment. He'd have better not.
The two coarse soldiers lugged him into the deep corridors of the Rostock station, the well known torture prison in Omega-15. This was the standard routine to reprogram unwilling teenagers to be submissively dependent on the Bounty Hunter Core.
Jibran heard the screams of a dozen of other inmates, which have been 'resocialized' here. The procedure used to destroy the moral comprehension of the victims and afterwards they are willing pilots of the Bounty Hunter guild.
The procedure was horrible. Jibran couldn't imagine that his body would work like it did before. With open eyes he was lying on a hard pallet in a room without any source of light.
"Why?", he asked himself. There was no reason that they captured and tortured him.
At some point of time, after minutes or days in the darkness, Jibran felt asleep. He dreamt of some strange place, where he was abled to read the thoughts of the others, feel their feelings. Out of the sudden this imagination collapsed and pure agony was filling his mind. Red hatred flooded every corner of his body. At first he tried to resist, but the hatred was stronger than his moral. The procedure of the Bounty Hunters showed the expected effects... he dedicated to his irrational loathing.
Red and black shapes whirred in front of his eyes, forced him to stand up. Pain... awful pain in his head forced him to scream loudly in his small cell. The pain and hatred raised to blind agony. Like mad he was hammering against th walls. "The pain shall go away!"
Silence... darkness and quietness. They felt like paradise for him. An euphonious voice:
"TAIALDDAR! YOU HAVE TO COME BACK! WE'RE AWAITING YOU! FOLLOW THE PATH OF TRUTH TO AWAKE!"
In the blink of an eye Jibran was standing in a steel hangar, bedaubed in blood of slaughtered Bounty Hunters. Now he knew his mission, the way to go back, to finally reach the collective. And he knew that there are others... and how to convince them to come with him... back to the origin.
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