Prognosies: Stage III;
“ Join us in the spawning pool... ”
- Preluding your grafting into the collective corpus, we shall raise a celebration of earth-breaking magnitude! We die your hair transparent and strip you of your decency. Lust for us, as we too, expose ourselves, shedding our shells, plates and bio-drapes. Later we invite you to go skinny-dipping in the endless warm in the cavities of well lubricated fallen Earth.
As you become I the acid waters go woosh under our bare feet, merging tissue and purging last remnants of the human condition.
Wake: Chapter (1),
¶ ¹ Hanged by light years of chain, the Universe lied in suspension, affixed, by the dynamics of the four dimensions it is stuck in. Unfortunately, in such immobile state, our Universe was in a position to be preyed upon by interplannar entities.
Unbound, unruled by the constraints of spacetime, It came inside. The perpetrator - a latent organism with a postponed birth, condemned to wander the seas of reality as a sightless larvae, traversing millions of would-be lightyears in a single walk cycle of its countless legs. Truly, an unfortunate acquaintance with a forever feared alien invader, a Trespasser of pulverizing scale.
Like a vagrant cat strays into an abandoned worksite, It violated all existing space-time there is. Such visitation should have spelled universal doom to all there is, but somehow, due to simplicity and permeability of governing laws of physics, no material particle was displaced, stolen, or otherwise mistreated. Despite of this, in it's interdimensional Wake, the Trespasser layed waste to many micro-sized universes locked in prisons of flesh and skull.
* * *
- Ref.: Mare Cognitum (2;2.1)
- Ref.; Corpus (II-IV; 56pg, 22)
Wake: Chapter (2),
In a Wake of the Trespasser, for a few moments each data display device relayed an eviscerating message, something so perturbating and alien that it went straight through the veil of our lizard brains and lodged itself into the subconscious. Human perception could only wince and yelp.
I witness the featherless bipeds scatter in the wake of this ungodly event. They cover in the sight of a vigorous violation these mere seconds shall bring.
I think of the men and women canned in the International Space Station, running tests, monitoring countless displays. Stuck in such vulnerable and helpless state, suddenly assaulted with an overwhelming torrent of godless data, rending mind and brain...
I wake from the sterilizing nightmare drenched in sweat. Throbbing memory of a dream so devastating. I turned my face back to where I rose, my putrid dreaming chamber. My bed drenched in sweat and black electronic ink I unconsciously excreted.
* * *
Wake: Chapter (3),
Mobile data emissions led us to a house of Bishops. Upon entering the sanctuary we were met with a shameful display:
Clear plastic tubes showed into gaping mouths, recycled oxygen osmosis stewing inside the deflated lungs. Bloodshot eyes dry-aged by countless monitor displays. A news feed given a literal form, slow dripped in a most cruel, Pavlovian fashion. Orifices plugged with unholy rods - antenna receivers for a fleeting hint of the Second Coming. Skin decked with display monitors, cracked and oozing with electronic ink. Sucking on bleeding Liquid Crystalline materials, teeth stained with slick oily iridescence.
The ceaseless instinct to birth monstrosities of meat and of silicone taken beyond the pale. This sickening sight made us both wish all innovation was born hanged.
Out of focus tetanus-ridden injector stares back at us like some sort of hollow-point cyclops.
“We need to get out of here”
* * *
Wake: Chapter (4),
-- For His desire to rise to power was too great. Our Lord’s body now’s a signal ready to inflict us all with a sense of relief and spiritual nourishment. / Thou shall ask and thou shall receive. Deus ex spatium infinitum, Sanctus Christus anima. / --
-- The body receives. In the aftermath of the blessed event, our fragile self was ruined and wasted by he the nuclear blast of Truth. Now the only thing that grows in the rib cages of men are the flowers of repentance. In wake of Original Sin (II), the body is made forfeit, blessed to be perverted into the abyss of cold perfection. His holy nutrition now are now the incoming data feeds from mare infinitum.
And so His word begat syncretic allegiance of faith and technologie.
Wake: Chapter (0),
Pilot assuming direct control over an unstoppable machine of tormented steel. Its fuselage would make you recoil. The flight-mask gripping his head ever tighter, improving the oxygen intake further. His breath in a direct route to the machines respiration pumps, oxygen scrubbers refreshing his alveoli.
Lashing coils of perdition licking his skin as jet fires bust open the sound barrier. A malevolent detestor dissecting the heavens in preparation for Trespasser’s dripping second coming. Black Machinery rains Culling from above, giving absolution to those suffering from terminal attrition.
(GOSS NET 1)
Tape 100/7 Page 549
s his first Fly Agaric mushroom