[Original Novel] Metal Fever 2: The Erasure of Asherah, Part 24
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
I dozed off like that, my last conscious brain activity for the day consisting of the Speed Foam jingle on irritating repeat and pleasant memories of the airline pizza. The next thing I knew, I was standing in a room with differently colored walls, but no detail on any of them.
Memories of this world rushed back to me, even as memories of the waking world faded. The same process which happens after I wake from a dream, but reversed. That gave me pause as I mulled the implications.
A moment later I could no longer recall what my strange dream was about, save for brief flashes of inexplicable imagery. A sleek, glistening creature of some sort on a wheeled carrier. Immense, blocky structures covered in twinkling lights, their reflection distorted in some sort of fluid which I floated on.
What does it mean? Is that where the epiphanies come from? The meaning of “tree”, and “cloud”? The names of colors...? I felt tantalizingly close to solving the puzzle, but try as I might, I couldn’t make the final connection.
Having exhausted the storage cubes in this building, I continued on in hopes of finding more clues. The landscape continued changing along the way. First from points to lines, then to filled triangles, now they had imagery on them as well.
It’s supposed to resemble something, I think. Blotches in different shades of green, crudely pixelated. The trees look different here as well. No longer vector constructs, now filled out considerably more and adorned with their own flat imagery.
The long thin part appears #D2B48C, which corresponds to “tan”. It’s striped with darker brown lines as if to imply it’s comprised of many cylindrical tan segments, growing smaller near the top. From that top sprouted several ragged green appendages, roughly #10b223.
The progression from vector tree, to filled triangle tree, to this one suggested an overall direction. More complexity, more color, more detail. I wondered once more if the ultimate reality I’m moving towards might possess a maximum of these qualities.
It seems like a safe assumption. But it actually helps me very little, as whatever I imagine it might look like, it will undoubtedly differ. I’ll know it when I see it though, I feel certain of that much. It will be impossible to miss.
The further I walked, the crisper everything became. The obnoxiously large pixels grew smaller and smaller. The flat imagery painted onto triangles grew sharper and more detailed. The triangles themselves, for that matter, grew vastly more numerous.
The ground beneath me now had fuzzy stuff on it. Thin green strands, densely packed. When I knelt to look closely, they were just flat images which turned to face me regardless of which direction I examined them from. “Grass”, it would seem. Same first two letters as green, surely not by coincidence.
The imagery painted onto surfaces also appeared to have depth to it now. Rugged, smooth, shiny, and various other material properties I’d never seen before. Then, something even stranger rose into view over the horizon.
An enormous building in a state of partial disrepair, as if left to fall apart over time. It looked to be made from rough grey blocks and cylindrical columns, placed as if to support overhanging decorative arches. Frilly green growths of some sort crept partway up these columns, and thin flat pieces of it drifted lazily in the wind. Whatever “wind” is. The sensation of movement?
Just then, a painfully bright, loud burst of some sort shattered the pillar nearest me. I fell backwards, shielding my face with both arms. When I looked up, there was somebody else. The first creature other than myself I’ve so far encountered in this place.
It ran past on two legs very much like mine. It also had two arms, clutching some sort of cylindrical item. The figure stopped, aimed the cylinder and launched a projectile from it. Another figure wearing differently colored body coverings, which I’d not seen hiding behind the green growths, was struck.
They came apart in an abrupt, shocking fountain of red particles and chunky pieces. There was a shiny, wet looking red pool decal on the ground beneath where they once stood, the jiggling red pieces still raining down and bouncing all over the place.
The aggressor spoke. “Suck my dick you camping faggot, play the game right!” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Or hearing, for that matter. Terrified he might destroy me as well, I crept around the edge of the structure, spectating what I soon discovered to be some sort of brutal ritual. “Ritual”...? Activity. Endeavor.
Others ran around the layout of the structure, each clutching their own implement of destruction tightly, firing different kinds of projectiles from them at one another. Why? For what possible reason? It seemed to correspond to the color of their body coverings.
Half of them wore blue, the other half wore red. As I watched through a crack in the gritty, grey blocks...one of them snatched a flag from a pedestal. That seemed the natural word for a long, thin cylinder with a flappy thin rectangle of flexible stuff attached to it, anyhow.
The flag snatcher then attempted to make his way to the half of the structure, which I now realized was symmetrical, that bore lights of the same color as his body covering. He acted as if it was incredibly important.
It must be. Otherwise, why would he risk his life for it? One of the opposing group fired a bright, glowing beam at him. It missed. He hopped around, startled. Perhaps believing unpredictable movement would prevent him from being struck.
It didn’t. The next beam hit him straight on. He collapsed, limbs flailing about briefly. I felt wounded watching it happen. Upset. But then, his remains...vanished. Just like that! Where did they go to?
That’s impossible, isn’t it? Who are these creatures? Then I glimpsed the same one I’d earlier seen shredded by the loud burst into all those little jiggling pieces. Intact, though. No worse for wear! How could that be?
This one had long, thin growths from their head which were bound together. “She”, then. Why? I couldn’t tell you. Nor was it obvious to me why any such distinction existed when it was seemingly irrelevant to the activity I’d so far spectated. “Blue Team Scores!” a painfully loud voice boomed from the sky.
Mortified, I looked this way and that for any sign of the source. “Who was that?” I asked. A moment later, I heard “The announcer, retard” in reply. When I asked how it was that anybody heard me, they informed me that my question appeared in something called “chat”.
“Who are any of you? What is this place? Why do you attack each other?” I begged, at my wit’s end after witnessing such extreme but seemingly pointless aggression. A projectile, trailing white puffs behind it, sailed over my head and exploded on contact with a tree.
“This isn’t an RP server, scrublet. If you don’t know what you’re doing, go play the tutorial. Or better yet, join red. Then you can derp around all you want.” A different voice now objected. “Don’t dump him on us fuckass, he’s probably a literal ten year old with a voice changer.”
While speaking, an image would briefly appear over them. A white blob in a black outline with a pointy little triangular tail hanging down from one end, and a sequence of three black dots in the center. Indicators that they were speaking, surely. But why?
“Why do you attack each other?” I again asked. “This place is so beautiful. Are you fighting over it? Is this a territorial dispute?” I heard a riotous sound I somehow knew was laughter. “That’s Domination mode, dipshit. You’re in CTF. Kid doesn’t even know what mode he’s playing. Stay the fuck off the voice channel at least.”
They just kept at it, and wouldn’t listen. Running around with no clear goal except to annihilate each other or return the flag to their own color’s territory, over and over. The fact that their remains quickly vanished, whereupon they were somehow restored to life explained to some degree why they endured it all without fear. But still, what could the point of this possibly be?
Stay Tuned for Part 25!
I have very rarely dreams and if I do I just don’t remember them with few exceptions. If I do, I have many questions about the meaning as well and sometimes I try to connect the dots as well. I don’t think I would be ever able to remember my dreams in such a details.
Brutal... Having such an experience would be crazy. From so much game can happen.
Wow, super interesting story. Very dreamlike, playful and hair-triggered. I'm crazy about science fiction. Even if the game is present, I can't help but notice the apocalyptic tone of the landscape. I see it's a story in parts. I'll try to catch up. Greetings!
Having a dream is magical, but your dreams are crazy just imagine dreaming during the 8 hours that according to expert is the ideal to have a rest, but instead you have dreams like those that you have I do not think that rest is something very pleasant to wake up the feeling of confusion must be stronger and the stress it generates is something that nobody would want to live or better said dream.
Thanks for sharing this Post. I love book.
Your book is interesting and good writing . I like your read . Thanks for sharing @alexbeyman
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