Binary Empire: Ekiada's Story

BINARY EMPIRE

A fantasy world built upon the mind of a Murderer. Genocide is my trade, my curse, my past, and my pleasure. I am a Bionoid of the lowest order, but without me, my race could never have propagated. And without me, mankind might have still stood a chance to survive in this crumbling world.

In my memoirs, I seek to shed a little light onto the being that stands before you now, that is now revered, as many call me, ‘Genesis’. But find neither life-changing facts nor belittling fictions. I am here to clarify the myths into fact, the legends into myths, and my well documented crusade of terror and bloodshed into a life. And that my deeds are to be judged accordingly only to my own heart, no other opinion matters. So why do I write to you? I seek only the ears of an untainted audience.

You are pure, and thus unsoiled by my world. You are perfect to me. Let me explain who I am as best as I can, and the world of mine that I help forge.


I did not come into this world like you. For one thing, could you, a human I presume, barely remember a thing when you where at the age of four, let alone the time when you first saw the world with your pale blue eyes? Remember not the first taste you can recall, but the word that followed the taste, the reason and purpose behind it that provided you with such a rush of the senses?

I do-I mean, we do. My race, the imperfect art of perfection. The Bio-engineered against Humanity, this is a classic tale in your world. A race bent on the destruction of humanity, who with superhuman strength and a beauty or monstrosity that quake the hearts of man succeeds, and that only a valiant hero may merge to save humankind from total annihilation. A world dominated by the Alpha-Omega complex, when two equals rival each other on the same turf, one must overcome the other. So far, we Bionoids have obtained the title of Alpha, and humanity the Omega. Though we have reached a peace agreement with a huge factor of mankind that bounds them to a life of fear and slavery, a small faction, which happens to be the prior armed forces of the nations combined. It is this faction that disturbs us, possibly the last shred of true humanity left to oppose us.

Humanity. Simple, innocent, barbaric creatures, forced from the comfort of a protected biodome environment to brave the harsh scape of their crusade against the domination of the Monochromatic Empire. Yet, even our technological advances can’t eliminate the human problem. I believe this is due to humanities close relation ties to the cockroach-this is something me and the scientists could never agree with for some reason. They both can adapt to any environment through given time, and I’m sure if the world one day explodes under its own mass of nuclear warfare, you’d find a human on a floating rock spiralling into oblivion whistling Amazing Grace all natural-like, flagging by passing by spacecrafts like regular intergalactic hitch-hikers.




I am not surprised that the human race still persists to exist today, unlike my Superiors. Considering the entire Bionoid race was still grovelling in tubes and sucking borrowed air dispensed to us through the kindness of our creators only 50 years ago, we owe our very lives to the human kind. I suppose that connects us in a spiritual way, that ultimately the only way to destroy them is to destroy ourselves too. Now as much as I despise them, I don’t fancy mass suicide. Despite my actions, I love life. Actually, I love MY life. The others who didn’t share my affection and thought otherwise can and went to hell long ago. It’s amazing how many people you can get to agree with you by gunpoint.

However, you know not much about the past, so I shall enlighten you some more on the beginning of the tale.


I must admit I was a part of that grovelling generation, the pioneer of my race you could say. Omega, you where the superior sentient being then, the Alpha. You managed to convince a generation of our subordinance to your apparent, glorified greatness. Chained us for entertainment to a world of violence, made cause for us to kill one another under the title of ‘living robots’ in plastic cold arena’s, heralded by the cheering crowds as blood flowed freely. Laughed as they did, I had to kill to live. It became hardwired into my nature to no surprise, and I begun to adore the rain of blood and the feeling of squishing organs in my bare hands, the fluttering beat of the heart before it expired. We didn’t die, no no. We expired. Though I had joy from the carnage, the rest of my race did not share it. The benefits of robotics mean automatic slavery to the human language.

When will humans learn to eliminate the component of emotions and feelings in their creations? Look how well it fared from Dr Frankenstein or in that matter all those silly science fiction movies.

They thought they could simply wipe our minds dry of any emotion through brainwashing, not by removing the offending lobe of our brains. By depriving us of the important skills of language and vocabulary and freedom of expression. they thought this would keep us in our place underneath their feet in the mud. They even encased us in the guise of robots for their amusement, masks of mockery. Mine and the rest of the ‘soldier’ breed of the bionoid race had a lovely cheesy grin on it to betray our pain and agony to a laughing crowd. The slaves to the households had an amusing little moustaches designed to the delight of the inhabitants, or maybe a delicate provocative smile. Some even where designed to have a warped and magnificent body design, like a spiders, or a creative creature that defied laws of physiology-Of course these died shortly after birth because their organs and skeleton was designed so clumsily that they died from the constant pain they felt from merely taking a wheezing breath.  The whores where the worst, they had no faces on their masks, this let their masters imagine what expression they wanted their subjects to feel.  Of course the whores where accustomed to screaming, but they did not learn the word ‘help’, so the masters always thought it to be rather stimulating. The guild of prostitutes did not care much for them, and it was oft that one would find a whore corpse lying without ceremony on the sidewalk, exposed, and rotting, without anyone who cared for it to give it a proper burial. We where easy to upkeep, physiologically adapted to eat any crap hauled our way to leech any sufficient nutrients out of it, our wastes disposable according to our design to best suit the environment (I don’t have a bladder, I just ‘sweat out’ the toxins), and naturally a target for the brutal savage beatings of those who had anger management problems, or just felt the need to express that we where nothing but garbage..

Our creators tried, but failed to prevent us from the gift and burdens of emotions.

I felt joy for one thing, in the worst possible area possible. My victims felt pain, I felt guilt, the slaves felt numb, and the whores felt the revulsion of rape. Many of my kind committed suicide, or a ‘malfunction’ as the human creators called it. Our unlikely hero of our race that saved us form this fate was in the form of my student, a Bionoid whore of downtown, who stepped up to change our lives forever in a bid of a freedom…

However, that story is for another time. Though on a personal note I still wear my fixated grin, just to remind myself what I have become, and how people see me. This way, I can separate myself into two, the Murderous Maniac that overshadows a far greater persona that is not ruled by anyone but my goddess.



In a way, you still are the Alpha, our superior. And we still grovel at your feet. Because try as we may, we can never reciprocate your image of true beauty and innocence to the world we wanted to create. In fact, the world now seems to reflect out very souls. A plane of fire, decay, pestilence, the carcass of a once healthy earth ripped to shreds by our nuclear arms. Nothing like the paradise the first generation I strived for, but now our society is built under the power of the newer, more stronger and beautiful versions of us.

We must obey now. Even me.

We are a complex species, in all our magical being, built upon systems of systems of Hierarchy, democracy, dominated by autocracy and all manipulated by our matriarch, Arya. Bionoid politics is the ultimate madhouse I’ll tell you, I have luckily avoided it into a safe position as the Bionoid Guard’s Captain. Assassinations are frequent within our empire; I’ve only survived this far on my reputation as a small minded, bloodthirsty brute that only needs one little excuse to kill. Not that I’m NOT a small minded bloodthirsty brute, though I live by my sadist ways to survive like in the old days, I strive to keep the rebelling human faction alive through my own little terrorist organisation, “The White Cross”, the third faction in this three-way war, the only organisation created of both Humanity and the Bionoids from the first generation on a... Somewhat equal level.

If the Monochromatic Empire didn’t have the rebellion of the Omega and the ‘White Cross’ to be united against, we would do away with ourselves in an orgy of power hungry Megalomaniacs. Its for the best wishes of the Empire that I keep this faction alive and spit in the eye of my Arya in secret, as well as to maintain the little hope that keep the humans alive and with fight in their souls. I may be cruel, but I do have a heart.





In all our failings, I still think we are Beautiful creatures. Rotting mechanical corpses that treasure a stench of the carrion and sweaty blood on the outside, but you can’t deny the striking attraction of our eyes. The only bit that shows us that we where once human too-yes, our DNA is fundamentally spliced from human genes to a more malleable genetic code synthesized at last from an abnormal mutation in one of the Bionoid subjects. And having a human trace, I can claim I once, may it be the fraction of a second when I was brought into this world, was wholesome, defenceless, carefree and clueless. And above all else, innocent.

Innocence is the greatest gift a soul can receive.




~2~

I’m sorry, I wandered again. Let me take you back to a more important beginning-My birth.

May your concept of memory be jaded to your ridiculous everyday life affairs, however you fail to realise the truth of how much our past matters. It’s our past that shapes us, that determines our future. I-A humble Bionoid myself, realised this the moment my current mindset was thrown into your world. I remember as if it where yesterday. I remember my first step into life, and it all began in the beginning along with yours, which was the catalyst to your end and my rebirth.

The privilege you have been given is left unpraised, even held in contempt for little measly impurities. Fortunate fleshed-up idol of perfection, laying unconscious to the world til the age of two. I fought for life in the end of my beginning. I tasted blood before I even ventured out into your universe in a pathway shared by vicious, carnivorous animals, like a shark’s foetus in fact, don’t you see?

Gnashing, clawing, bleeding, and biting, slaying all those unworthy of life, graduating myself from the state of innocent childhood straight into the harshness of life in a matter of hours... All for the sake of taking the final plunge into the wide world of humanity without ending up in the garbage heap like an unwanted aborted child. Unnatural it may sound, but I have never known anything else, so I scorn those who have taken their entry into life for granted-taken the very heritage of their creation in disregard, They do not remember the pain and trails it held for them to gain them entrance into this world, so how could they appreciate it? I fought for it in the end after I knew what it was-death was cuddled close but I pulled through. I lost my innocence, but on my behalf, it was worth it. For it has given me the edge. The razor sharp edge.

That, in itself, is probably one of the reasons I am so disturbed today. So mutilated. So… Strange… Insane? Caring not for right or wrong, and still fighting for the life I used to crave but now despise the perfect utopia. Caring not for the victims of my plundering rage with knife and hunger, the blood tasteful on my bionic tongue. Never again believing in the rational mind. Rather the raw instinct and erratic impulse of the heart, pure passion and freedom of violence, the core values of my self along with the hatred of my predecessors the human kind. However, that is only on my outside persona. Inside, I wish for the calm in the middle of the storm, an escape from the path I chose. It’s too late now, so that small voice inside of me stays silent for most days, except when I stay up into the night, thinking about what could have been, if only I listened to the small voice.

However, do not judge me on what you see now, the thing that stands before you today, but what made me, and what I was yesterday in my memory. See that evil and the pure are only results if the purity created in all of us, and then progress to what they become in the end. That the corruption and pure innocence is the changing point of our core beliefs and become who we are-that we strive to be. And that everyone has a story behind it, so listen closely for once in your life, and then you may decide if I am the evil, or if it is only your reflection. For after everything, I was once a child. Like you.


























~3~


Warmth. The first thing I remember in my life was the warmth.

Back then, it was the only thing tangible, realistic, the only thing that made sense to me. I believe that it provided me my big first baby step in life, which was the process of coherent thought. Perhaps that is why I cherish it so; the heat, and the cold. I explored a bit further into refining myself as me through it, taking twists and turns here and there as my mind begun to develop at a marvellous rate. Besides the black pounding pressure that compressed my body from all sides to release a sense of Zero Gravity, the cold and heat was the only thing I could define my mind as mine. It was warm, but at times it became colder or it became hotter inside my universe, and I revelled in this temperature change, for it gave me great comfort into knowing that I existed, and thus great joy in this security.

Shortly after this development, I found a new fascination and embraced it with the enthusiasm of a little child. A Pulse trembled all around me and inside of me, I found out, intoned with my being and my world around. I felt a beat in my body, and the beat carried itself out in an ambience. It pressed against me and escaped from within me, a rhythm that strung me out into chords, a song without notes or voice, a mere beat. But, without this invaluable aspect my body, even I dare say my soul, no song could ever exist without it in my mind. It was at this point that I had the vaguest conception of transcendence within me that was created by me. I had no power, not yet. But control was trailing the tip of my fingers, gracing my skin and stirring my mind to a further awareness.


Then came the sounds, and at that point I knew I was alive. They did not make sense nor had purpose, but the soft gurgling that vibrated all around me in incoherent frequencies made me start too wonder. Was there something beyond my world? In my safe haven, I had yet to find the source of these sounds that echoed around me. They would come and go as they may, change in tonality and pitch. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it made me cry, and sometimes it made me laugh. It was hence when I felt a combination of wonderment-and fear. I began to think inside my head. Could it be possible that my universe was, dare I say, incomplete? Was it possible that my perfect world was a façade, a simple trial test for another life? It came to me that, maybe every stage was building me up, fashioning me into a design for something. Something, but what? No, that was impossible, how could something more complex than my very existence exist outside my walls? The answer came not from me, but outside this wall. Purpose.

Purpose? The word was unknown to me, ‘purpose’, but it is the very essence that creates our identity. As the word was thrown into my mind, without verbal significance since ‘language’ was naught but what my senses and the voices in my head whispered to me without a verbal word, but the meaning of it present. The first kindled trait that I carry for the rest of my life that followed entwined with my ‘purpose’, was my paranoia. And intense feeling that, though I finally held myself to be of some importance, that something was wrong. 


Light came before the darkness. The true that I was in the darkness before the light came, but I neve noticed until both elements where strongly contrasted against each other. The darkness swirled with unseen shadows and shapeless creatures, but light gave life to these shadows, gave birth to these creatures, and gave me my very first colour. My first best friend and my deadliest enemy.


Red. Red painted my world brightly. The vivid hue dove in and out around me in the darkness and light, revealing funny patterns on my world that, sometimes scaring, mostly enrapturing me and overall amused me. It seemed my world had boundaries, with an invisible wall separating me from another world. Outside my domain danced formless shapes and exotic textures, catching my eye in a trance-like state, as I could not move myself to shy away from the advancing outsider. It was at this time, I felt apprehensive and retiring, but at the same time exhilarated and eager, my previous doubts and fears abandoned in the face of this new challenge. Eager for what I did not know, but something inside my heart told me ‘no’, when my head was saying ‘yes’. Therefore, for the first time I tasted judgement and contradiction.


In fact, it was the first time I actually tasted. Salty was the liquid that ran through my mouth and nose, filtering in and out of me at a continuous flow. The taste of it excited me and confused me, making my mouth screw up into a twisted knot. My world that was empty before was starting to fill itself up, surging in around me simultaneously and taking up room in my already clueless mind, overwhelming my sense of fear and turned it into excitement. The pressure around me that looked like empty space before now seemed to be fulfilled in my home, an actual solid that I controlled with swift movements of my body and swaying of my limbs.


Yes, I had limbs now. My arms where like brittle sticks and my legs where no better, but I had limbs none the less. I sensed that they where still growing, taking in time to swish about in the water as I got newly acquainted with co-ordination. Both that and I agreed well and became good friends, practising a bit as my arms and legs developed further and my movements began to quicken. My senses sharpened up as time continued, the temperature in my domain intensified and my nerves where shot with the delight. My very first experience into my existence has come back to welcome me in my next stage of life. My eyes began to link themselves with my body to create the process of reflexes. I tested this by seeing how fast I could move about in the water with ease. A pointless exercise maybe, but I was starting to feel restless by just floating around in my home agitated, anxious.



The worst came last, bringing with it the experience of death, the transition from my life to the afterlife. My world of red and green swirled together, giving in to my greedy senses of copper and salty desires of this liquid. However, some sound was thrown around me that which I couldn’t understand but suddenly felt wrenched in the heart. My first taste of fear. My realm suddenly plunged into hues of blues and blacks, the taste sharpening on my tongue, shrivelling it back inside my mouth. I held my face with my hands, trying desperately to pull the taste out, but it sunk deeper into my body, filling inside of me, drowning me with fire. A word crossed my inner sanctum of horror. Extermination. As the evil continued to rape my insides, I clawed desperately at my body, the poison spreading its infection running through my veins which burst and spread out through my world, which was shrinking upon me. The liquid I loved, which now betrayed me, was now leaving me.

The wires let go of their stranglehold on me, my lifelines sliding off my body and retracting around my chamber, the liquid seeping into holds which I now saw littering my feet. I sank along with the dispersing liquid, my body anxious to follow it through these holes, desperate to disappear forever and to expel this pain. I felt my feet touch the bottom, scared beyond rationality. I held against the slippery walls to keep my body straight, the realization that this world of mine was a lie, designed to create a false sense of safety and comfort. My first breath of fresh air was beyond pain, filling my body with a cold I have never known. I tried holding my mouth closed and refusing this stranger into me, but the more I resisted, the weaker I became. I surrendered. These thoughts ripped at my heartstrings, taking the force out of my legs as I crashed to the floor. A puddle of garbage, I looked up at the clear walls, revealing to me the strangest of things. Reflections of myself stood outside the outside world, however they where not like me. Except for the eyes.


*  *  *

“It’s still alive.” Commented one of the scientists disdainfully, leaning in for a closer look at the twitching specimen that looked defiantly up at him. He adjusted his coat, blinking with bright blue eyes as he observed their yet another failed project. Annoyance was etched in his features. The creature in the chamber began to claw at the glass, large gulping noises issued from it as it tried to master respiring in oxygen. “The toxins have been absorbed into its vessels; it should be shutting down the lungs and poisoning the nerve system by now.” Concluded another, staring at the creature with a scowl. “As long as it doesn’t overexert itself,” Added in another, her deep cocoa eyes flittering over the creature anxiously as it writhed viciously, an inhumane sound emitted deeply from its throat. “Yes, remove the compartment; we must direct the dose into its heart.” Sighed another, tuning his attention back to his intricate instrument that flashed with monitors and beeping necessities that he could only understand, the others registering what they needed to dispose of this and bring in the next.




*  *  * 


I stared in desperation, begging for mercy, flailing myself hazardously so much that I heard a few cracks in my wrist as I flung it with all my strength at the glass. I was astonished to find that my whole world cracked. It was desperation that drove me to claw at these cracks, desperate for a way out, a harrowing hole inside of me lay out like a gaping wound where the bonds that held me safely in my universe lay useless at my sides.

Bonds are not the right word when I look back...

It was his chains that where broken, setting free the monster, who turned away from the fear that burned him painfully and blinded the eyes with a sensational rage that would be carried out for the rest of his life, eyes that could not see the scientists as they cowered, the female the first one to draw out a gun...

*  *  *

Time has passed. All in a blur at first, the world caught up in a whirlwind of insignificant events that I cannot string together logically. The only thing I remember, rocking back and forward in this darkness around me, is the raw taste of copper on my lips. The red water that the strange corpses had cried as I was released upon their worlds to feast on my first meal. The water dried and cracked across my body, the strange female I cradled in my arms like my very own doll, my last link to the world I was expelled from so cruelly.

I have little recollection about the horrors I had unleashed on them, but I felt little remorse for injuring another living creature. They had intruded on my private life, it was only fair they pay the penalty. Though I regret that through the blood orgy that issued in my blind warpath, I accidentally killed an angel. My dolly.

Of course, they all had to pay. It was THEIR fault I was here, huddling in the pile of cold bodies to keep me warmth, my vain attempt to regain that lost mothers warmth that nutured me. Now its absence tortured me. A rough noise rumbled out of me, startling myself and my doll. I held my female against my chest, its mind, only mine-and shuddered from more the cold. This world was isolated and unhappy, not so intimate as my world, it cried like I did inside. So cold. So alone. How could hell be real? Where was I heaven?

I was answered by a flash of bright lights, sweeping over my mind and sucking all thought and comprehension out of it. I was stunned. Such light could not really exsist? Not in this dank hell. The bottom of the world? The pit of my death, for surely I had expired?

No, this light brings another world behind it. And an entirely different hell.


*  *  *

I was born a man. As a child so young in the womb would have never remembered their first step into existence, I remember mine with a fresh vivid vision of the life long passed, but which the marks have been laid, and forever named as my burden.

Yes, I am a killing machine- A Bionoid that humans created in their pursuit for the key of immortality. As I understand, the first step to immortality is legacy, and that legacy is to create life. My life, a simple formula in their crazy equation that went wrong. Yes, I went wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong in fact that I became a failure in their eyes-till they found out my secret.


(TBC)