#it’s either he’s possessed or he’s dying from a terminal disease so he’s finally getting his affairs in order

[undertheredhood]

jason todd falling in love with someone from the perspective of the other batfamily members has got to be the funniest thing ever, because he's not going to tell them anything about his personal life so easily, which is going to lead them to greatly misunderstand everything. so while jason’s giggling and kicking his feet while imagining his future wedding with his crush, his family is immediately calling john constantine to exorcise the demon that is clearly possessing him.

[kaiserin-astraia]

NieR's Project Gestalt

So after several nights losing sleep over this, I decided to write down my biggest issue with the NieR series: project gestalt. It’s pretty unanimously agreed by fans that project gestalt was probably the worst plan in the history of plans, executed in the laziest way possible. And yet, I couldn't help but obsess over how project gestalt could have been salvaged, even after the events of ending E of nier replicant.

This is the part where I say: I’m going to spoiling the hell out of NieR: Replicant and in some capacity NieR: Automata. If you don’t want to be spoiled, then get out now — that being said, if you’re sticking around anyway, I’ll be attempting to give summaries and explanations to concepts in the games that are relevant, so that we are all on the same page. also also I only know the high level details of the Drakengard series & won't be touching on it much.

So. What the hell was project gestalt?

Project gestalt was the terrible and last ditch effort to save humanity from a widespread pandemic called white chlorination syndrome, or WCS. WCS was caused by a literal inter dimensional fight between a red dragon and demon baby thing that resulted in the death of both and the deterioration of their corpses causing salt (also called Maso particles) to fall from the sky. If you got infected, the Cult of the Watchers gave you the choice of losing your free will and fighting for them as a soldier in the Legion, or turning into a pile of salt and dying. BrandonSP has a wonderful video talking about the Legion and the Nier universe leading up to the events of Nier: Replicant that I’ll link if you want to know more about this history (here), but all you need to know is: humanity is on the brink of extinction and the planet is no longer inhabitable in its current state.

Project Gestalt discovered that the way humans could escape extinction is by separating their souls from their bodies — the soul having no physical form is immortal & immune to maso, while the body without a soul can't become infected, because there’s no consciousness to force into a demon deal, I guess. You know, I realized while writing this that it’s not clear why separating soul from body actually worked to prevent WCS, but whatever it worked because Yoko Taro Said So.

However, separating body from soul was no easy task; upon doing so, most people’s souls would instantly go berserk, turning into mindless violent entities. The first success was the playable character of Nier: Replicant, who I’m going to call Nier. Upon this first success, the governments of the world convinced / coerced him into cooperating with the Project, and he became the cornerstone for all the “gestalts” aka the souls separated from their bodies.

Just to keep everyone up to pace, gestalts are the souls separated from their bodies, otherwise known as “shades” in Nier: Replicant.

So Project Gestalt’s planned chain of events was as followed:

1. All remaining humans would undergo gestalt-ing 2. The resulting replicants (aka, the soulless bodies) and androids would fight and defeat the legion & clean up the planet so that it was habitable again … which meant containing or eradicating the leftover maso covering the planet. 3. Once ready for rehabilitation, Grimoire Weiss and Grimoire Nior would merge into each other, causing all gestalt souls to snap into their respective replicants starting with Nier 4. Profit. Seems a simple plan, right? Well, not even a single step of that plan worked. By the end of Nier: Replicant ending E, Nier’s Gestalt, aka the shadow lord, has been killed by his own replicant; the replicants have gained sentience and I would argue their own souls, and many gestalts have relapsed into becoming violent, nonsensical entities. The insta-snap grimoires are dead, too, and-- Oh there’s the tiny issue that when a gestalt relapses, their corresponding replicant gets something called the “black scrawl”, a painful and terminal disease. Once a gestalt relapses or dies, their replicant can’t be recreated (well... mostly) and because the original gestalt, the shadow lord, is dead, all the other gestalts are doomed to eventually relapse or die as well, and thus humanity goes extinct. This is where I call bullshit. There’s little known about the time period between Nier: Replicant and Nier: Automata— especially the time of the gestalt and replicants decline. The game(s) leads you to believe that nothing can be done because the soul snapping Grimoires are dead and so is the original gestalt. However, there is tons of evidence in the game itself that implies it’s not so simple, and truly the true tragedy is that simply, everyone gave up — or more likely, Yoko Taro didn’t want us to think this hard, lol. Well TOO BAD, I can’t stop thinking about it so finally let’s actually talk about how to save humanity. First of all, I read on Reddit how it seems to be that the androids Devola and Popula are only two units, and with their demise in Nier: Replicant that project gestalt is doomed to failure. However, Nier: Automata clearly talks about how there were several Devola and Popula model pairs in different cities/continents. There’s no way that only our Devola and Popula in Nier: Replicant knew how to merge a gestalt with its replicant; such vital information would be stored in every android related to the project, and these models were quite literally created to oversee it. So. Idk why the hell the project was allowed to even get so disorganized, but regardless, after the the Shadow Lord and grimoires die, the remaining Devola and Popula units should have immediately made a plan B. There were several big issues with the state of the world before, so we’ll tackle them one by one for the biggest chance of success. 1. All relapsed gestalts need to be eradicated or contained. Their violence has lead replicants to attack them back and view them as monsters, leading to meaningless conflict. If the Devola and Popula units are programmed not to harm the gestalts because they are the 'true humans', they need to make new units ala A2 or 2B to take care of it. Because we know that android technology is already there, evidenced by the Memory Tree, and Devola and Popula, it follows this is definitely possible.

2. There should be three divisions of research made as follows:

2.1 Research into the effects of mismatched replicants merged with gestalts, like Kaine. Because the clock is ticking, there’s unfortunately no time to gawk at morals. Taking volunteers, even 1 success could be the difference between extinction or survival.

2.2 Creating and housing “iced” or “stasis” gestalts, while replicant bodies are “grown” for them. Because replicants have formed their own identities, they should try to create/raise replicants completely asleep/comatose. If not this, research into putting gestalts into their proper replicants at infant stage can be tried. (Note: replicants were infertile, hence why replicants had to be made, not born of sexual reproduction. Yoko Taro said that replicants couldn’t reproduce because they didn’t have their souls, however I think this was just a comment said to cover a plot hole.)

2.3 Research into whether replicants truly have souls or not, and whether something can be done to allow them to reproduce. Regarding the soul issue, it’s heavily implied that the Memory Tree, having absorbed the memories of so many replicants, began growing a soul of its own (that Nier killed, thinking it was a shade, oops). Now, how is that possible? It shouldn’t be, unless the replicants had made their own or unless a soul being created was possible. If we want to get fancy, a fourth division could be organized to study Emil and the weapons project that experimented on him, with an emphasis on how to either reverse the effects or if any information can be gleaned from them regarding the soul.

2.4 Black scrawl 2 electric boogaloo: it’s said in the project gestalt files that they couldn’t find a cure or reason for this phenomenon, but if we’re trying to cover our bases, another research division should be created to investigate and attempt to cure it. It seems to be a magical malady, so I wonder if Emil would be able to help... or even Kaine.

3. (Moving along...) More androids should be created to build cities / homes / areas of civilization for the newly reformed humans to re-habitat. This is said to be a goal of the androids in Nier: Automata, and they were doing a piss poor job — maybe if they got started earlier they’d have a better shot. The replicants were/are already living in medieval levels of squalor and poverty, which is ridiculous considering the android's technology is so advanced.

4. No more lies: though in my plan, replicants shouldn’t have to be created except to be possessed, but if they are created and allowed to mature into a sentient age, replicants should be educated and informed about the truth of their existence — this is for many reasons. First, that way replicants will be less likely to fear and attack shades they see; two, worst comes to worst, they may be more willing to share their bodies with their gestalts and who knows? Maybe they’d merge naturally. Three, no replicant would be allowed to get strong enough to defeat an android (or two -- seriously, what were the twins thinking letting Nier get so powerful?).

Hopefully this makes it very obvious that the death of humanity was entirely the fault of Project Gestalt itself and the androids meant to oversee it -- at least the androids have the excuse of being programmed to act a certain way, but still. It's so frustrating that we just have to accept that humanity was doomed even though, by its own lore, there was a lot that could have been done to attempt to save humans. Like, I love you, Yoko Taro, but gees.

anyway if you've read all this I'm so sorry but also I'm REALLY interested to hear what y'all think about the Nier universe and it's facets. idek why I've got such deep brainworms but here we are.

P.S. As of writing this, I've played some Nier: Reincarnation and it just further implies that the way they created and treated replicants was both A) awful, holy shit, it's so bad, and B) ill-advised on every level. I don't want to spoil but good lord. Honestly, I think at this point YT just wants to express/nail home that humanity was doomed to fail because of its own cruelty and flaws. ok ill shut up now bye love u

[on-the-wings-of-hope-prose-en]

Immunity

Hope dies last.

But how could have Gale hoped for anything right now, when the last hopes of the dying alive humanity were rapidly crumbling into thousands of tiny shards, precisely like the fragments of a broken mirror, in which it, humanity, in a moment of brief spiritual insight, was able to behold itself for a brief moment of its history?

Hope for salvation. Hope for earthly life. For the life after death. Is there one?

Today, by some kind of a miracle, Gale finally managed to get inside into one of the overcrowded churches, where divine services had been held without stopping for several months already. All over the planet, the temples of the three world religions have been crowded for a long time, during both day and night. Now, when the so glorified by earthly materialists science could not answer the challenge thrown by natural forces, people tried to find it in their appeals to the Gods.

Now, standing at a distance from the altar of the temple in the sea of other people pressing down on him from all sides and towering over them like a two-meter giant, Gale observed. He needed to understand what was driving these people now when they had almost no hope left to bear. What made them appeal to those of whose very existence this earthly life had made them doubt time and again?

Faith in the possibility of salvation? Fear of devouring nothingness that is opening its greedy mouth? Love for everything they have created – including the very nature that has become so deadly?

As for Gale, until the events of recent years, he believed only in science. It has been his holy grail for many years of life. It, with due diligence, observation, and long experimentation, was able to grant humanity an answer to any question and challenge... if you do not take into account the existence of a Higher Mind.

A sea of human faces. An ocean of emotions. A kaleidoscope of feelings. Raised either in prayers or silent threats, lowered in despair hands. Would anyone see them, would anybody hear this voiceless speech? Gale possessed no answer to this question that had been tormenting him for so long. The day of the answer has not come yet.

* * *

“Mining of antibodies. Participate in a volunteer program to test new vaccines. Earn pharmacoins. Give your answer to novovirus!”

A huge holographic billboard floated around the corner of the skyscraper right in front of Gale’s eyes as soon as he stepped out into the central square. Gale grimaced in disgust. The endless attempts to create vaccines will all die in vain. It’s never possible to accurately predict the shape of something that changes every moment of its existence.

“Virt-club “Pleasure”. There is no fear of death. There is life’s pleasure!”

A three-dimensional rainbow-colored hologram of a girl with her legs spread wide enlightened with neon-laser beams a couple of dozen meters away from Gale, sensitively and quickly reacting to the approach of a lone wanderer. No, he definitely doesn’t need to go that way. When the whole world is going straight to hell in front of your very eyes, there is no more time for pleasure.

“Life after death. Cryostasis. The latest military development. Call us right away!”

As if a living hologram of a man in a blue and seemingly frozen space suit waves his hand in greeting, inviting Gale to come to the next “saviors”. No. There is no escape from novovirus, there is no salvation. All the scientific researches of the best bio-geneticists on the entire planet were unshakable proof of this.

Novovirus. This pestilence had many other names, too. A new plague. Black Death. Reaper. Punisher. Wrath of God. Doom.

Being fueled by fear, the human fantasy gave birth to more and more associations. And more and more cases of infection and either mass death or mutation of people only fueled this hysteria of universal fear. What can the smallest virus do against a man who thinks of himself as the master of nature? Anything. Especially if there cannot be an antidote for this kind of poison.

The government records to which Gale had been granted access after he started working on the “Salvation” project contained a wealth of data on the primary localized cases of infection and their associated symptoms. South America. North Africa. Southeast Asia. First, second, third wave. Initially, the disease was considered to be a new type of malaria and didn’t gain significant attention – until the moment of a rapid surge in the number of infections across the entire planet. And all of a sudden the concept of a “mosquito bite” started looking not so harmless at all.

Along with the development and evolution of the virus, the symptoms also changed. Fever, chills, nausea, and vomiting were only the initial stages of the virus-induced disease. Then the infected ones started to cough up their bodily innards along with the blood. Then came the nerve paralysis and cardiac arrest. Genetic mutations followed their steps. And after them, human madness knocked on the door of omnipotent science.

The virus mutated rapidly, changing its protein-molecular structure within a matter of days. More and more cases, together with the accompanying symptoms, began to be recorded by the governments of many countries every few days. The entire civilized world was swept by a wave of panic. People stopped leaving their homes. Looting, arson, and street looting came into action. Many new “apocalypse witness” sects have raised their heads, each with her mad prophet and course. The quickly approaching collapse of social spheres threatened to plunge the entire world into chaos, hunger, and poverty.

Governments in numerous countries have made huge financial investments while trying to produce a life-saving vaccine. But what seemed so simple and routine at first to many scientific minds, stuck like an irresistible curse of a mad old woman-death on many groups of virologist scientists. The vaccines did not keep up with the virus mutations in the infected cells. And cell mutations inevitably led to the mutation of humankind. And this was so much more terrible than the casual and familiar conventional war – because in the flames and fumes of this new war for survival, the very concept of “man” was about to become the ashes of history.

Vaccines didn’t work. It was paramount to find different ways of salvation, locate it at any cost. Thus the “Salvation” project was born, uniting many of the best scientists around the globe. All they had to do was find another way to save humankind – even at the cost of the lives of thousands of infected people who had become new experimental material in underground laboratories, even at the cost of the lives of the scientists themselves. Everything for the scientific battlefront, everything for victory. And Gale desired to be on the edge of it.

* * *

Gale’s flycar roamed through the depopulated streets of the once-overcrowded metropolis, increasing and decreasing its altitude in violation of all the rules of multi-level traffic, rapidly obeying the commands of the machine’s artificial intelligence, soaring over the arches and billboards of skyscrapers, and diving into high-speed underground tunnels. But no people were willing to issue him fines.

Simon’s words were still ringing in his head. Uninfected one! One among hundreds of millions, one who somehow miraculously passed through the gates of this earthly hell and remained unharmed. A soldier with no signs of novovirus mutation delivered to the “Salvation” scientific laboratories.

A miracle? But science does not believe in miracles, science believes in experiments. And the relentless logic of science demanded that this experiment was to be carried out immediately for the sake of all the living. And if the life a new-found test subject it to be put at stake – it had to be done without the slightest portion of hesitation and remorse of unnecessary conscience. Agitated by the morning’s message that came to his audiovisor, Gale raced through the streets of deserted Chicago with his lips silently whispering prayers to the scientific gods only he knew.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Professor Gale. Simon is in his labs, waiting for you early this morning.”

“Thanks, Miranda. I’m just in a hurry catching up with him.”

“Looks like you have something really interesting planned for today,” their young assistant winked on her way, and after a couple of seconds disappeared around the corner of the sterile white corridor inside the underground laboratory complex.

Gale literally flew through the massive glass doors of the laboratory, almost breaking his forehead – all their outdated automatic opening system based on solar cells seemed to be too slow for him at that instant.

“Where’s the uninfected test subject? I want to examine him!” he shouted from the doorway.

“My, oh my, it must be no less than Professor Gale Newman himself, safe and sound! Did you pour a whole pack of nitro-coffee pills into yourself before the trip, so as not to fall asleep at the wheel at such an early hour?” Dr. Simon grinned through his mustache as he caught a glimpse of a colleague who had flown into the lab, while deftly adjusting his glasses with a free hand. “And Miranda and I were just arguing about whether you’d make it to us before sunrise, or whether you’d be completely put asleep by thoughts of a Higher Intelligence. Did mysticism get the better of you due to old age?” Simon said in a friendly tone, his fingers still working silently on the holo-terminal.

“Have you got a file on him?”

“The NSA transferred a piece of data this morning. Corporal James Cassle, Marine Corps. Participated in the rescue of civilians in Brazil and Venezuela after the outbreak of the pandemic wars. He was seriously injured by marauding gangs of mutated infected ones during the last operation. Received the Purple Heart Medal for battle wounds. He was taken out of the operation area and hospitalized in Seattle. This is all we know so far.”

“And the screening, how did he manage to pass the infection screening?!”

“After being extradited by helicopter from the infection zone, he was examined at a Seattle clinic. They confirmed this fact. The NSA reported that the local medics there literally dropped their jaws opened when no sign of novovirus was located inside his bodily cells, even in a latent state. You know – by today’s standards, this is something akin to a miracle.

“Have you confirmed the diagnosis with our equipment?”

“Not yet, only the general survey was conducted. He was delivered here just a couple of hours ago.”

“Simon, do you even realize that this may be our only chance to…”

“I clearly understand everything, Gale. Go ahead, he’s in the Alpha Bay right now,” Simon said softly, patting Gale on the shoulder, “Authorization code for today: Miracle”.

* * *

“Disinfection of the compartment is complete. Welcome back, Professor Gale Newman."

The voice of artificial intelligence, “Ada”, filled the sterile-white space of the Alpha Bay. As he walked in, Gale checked the protective functions of his tessa-suit once again and nodded in satisfaction. At the very least, this suit will protect him from potential physical aggression or infection for at least half an hour, if somewhere in the higher ranks a mistake was made with regards to the diagnosis of this notorious corporal.

“Do you have a habit of putting your guests in handcuffs these days, or is it just that I was so incredibly lucky today?" demandingly questioned James, shaking his huge cryo-cuffed fists in a show of force as soon as Gale entered the Alpha Bay, which served traditionally as the pre-interrogation cell.

A huge and strong one. Ones such as he usually tend to get away of troubles unscathed. Except for novovirus, perhaps.

“It’s for both your and ours safety, Corporal James. You are a very special case for us. But your true intentions and capabilities remain to be seen.”

“I hope it won’t take too long. My military command did not give me the order to go “awol” after the completion of my treatment.”

“You are within the borders of our responsibility here, with the NSA’s permission. Take my word for it, your commanders won’t have any questions concerning your temporary absence.”

“Is that so?” James leaned his beefy arms on the table and squinted at Gale’s face, his jaw working, “And to whom do I owe the favor of being invited to your party?”

“It’s thanks to your fighting skills, James. And your potential immunity to novovirus," Gale decided not to delay revealing his cards.

“Considering the so-called immunity – is it what your grandmother-midwife sang to you, or did a bullet suddenly fly into your forehead?” James chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “I have no immunities. None of us have. We are not the ones to decide the length of our own lives. Only the width.”

“Whether it exists or not remains to be seen. If the diagnosis made in Seattle is not confirmed – tomorrow you will be a free man.”

“Sure, great! That’s what I am going to do anyway!” James agreed abruptly, fixing Gale with his gloomy gaze. “Come on, don’t delay, your scientific majesty, I still have ordinary mortals to save from hordes of infected!”

“We were not the ones to develop this virus, James," Gale retorted, suddenly serious and edifying, “The virus is currently spontaneously mutating every day under the influence of natural forces that we don’t fully comprehend and…”

“Yeah, sure! Tell those who have been turned into animals alive about where the experiments on genetic material have led to in an attempt to create the desired vaccines! I saw with my own two eyes how the hordes of these madmen were tearing my fighters apart on the battlefield!”

“I understand your pain, Corporal, but our department has nothing to do with…”

“Be off with your lies, doc, or find a more attentive audience! What exactly do you need from me – blood plasma tests, cortical screening, a smear from the fifth point? Spit it out!”

“Nano-molecular cell screening. Observation of the reaction of cell membranes to the injection of viral molecular structures.”

“Simply put, you want to re-infect me with a new strain of novovirus and then observe with genuine scientific interest how long I will suffer in mortal agony? Am I missing anything from your plans, doc?!”

“If our tests are correct, this will be an attempt to develop a primary immunity to a new form of the virus.”

“Do I have any choice?”

“I am afraid you don’t,” Gale spread his hands, “until the test procedures are completed, you are placed at our direct disposal by your superiors.”

“More like being sold out.”

"However you desire to think of it. If you are ready, security will extradite you to the testing bay right now”.

“Then don't delay. I still have other unfortunate people to save from you and similar experimenters.”

* * *

Gale could not believe his own eyes. Over and over again, he rechecked the data coming from molecular nanoscopes, adjusted the scanning frequencies, and even rubbed his own eyes with bare hands. But the tools weren’t lying. The miracle lived on and did not intend to die out like misguided humanity.

The virus mutated, continuously rearranging its molecular structures, repeatedly trying to break down the protective cell barrier, to overcome the membranes separating it and the cells – and time and over again, as if an invisible and insurmountable wall stood in its way. These unsuccessful attempts of a newly created by nature bio-weapon to enslave and turn its next victim into a mad monster lasted about a dozen minutes. And then... then it finally came, a Miracle.

“Finish your experiments. You can see that, can’t you? I feel no fear!” James’ powerful voice ringed in the room.

He yanked at the inner levers of the terra-capsule he was trapped in with all his might, trying to free himself, but even his enormous strength wasn’t enough. And during that exact moment, the virus that had been trying to inject itself into the cells over and over again seemed to explode from the inside, rapidly disintegrating into hundreds of individual tiny molecules. It was as if a wave, invisible to both the eye or the instruments, had hit it, crushing, knocking over, and smashing to dust. The defeated micro-Goliath fell, and so did Gale’s glasses, hitting the lab floor.

“You... what… but how…”

“I am not afraid of you! Freedom!” James pounded on the inside of the terra-capsule with his powerful fists.

“Calm down... I just need to... readings…” continuing to fastly whisper something under his breath, Gale was rapidly pushing the keys of the terminal. “The reason for the disintegration of the viral structures… the impact of an unknown type of energy... the wave generated by the cell... I don’t understand!”

There is always room for wonder in genuine scientific discoveries.

“Cellular mitochondrial synthesis of unknown origin... Bipolar intracellular currents... But from where?”

“I am afraid of neither of your viruses, nor you nor anyone like you!” the violent impact from within caused a small dent in the outer surface of the terra-capsule.

“What... what did you just say?” Gale cast a confused glance at the prisoner who was struggling to get out of the capsule. “But this cannot be! If... only… A feeling! What kind of feeling did you experience a few seconds ago?!” Gale screamed in a frenzy of excitement that filled his entire being. “Please, James, repeat it!”

“Freedom! Life!” – another dent in the surface of the terra-capsule.

And the remaining viruses are scattered into molecular dust. Eternal – to eternal. Dust – to dust.

A feeling!

It was as if a new great revelation was descending on Gale at that very moment, breaking and overturning all the materialistic theories of the world, all the endless scientific skepticism and incalculable human stupidity in a single, unrestrained rush.

Spirit was prevailing over matter. The feeling was overcoming the disease. Fearlessness has become an immunity.

And this was echoed in unison by the laboratory devices that were going off scale from the waves of new-found energy.

“You are… free… to go," Gale Newman whispered helplessly, opening the capsule’s locking mechanism, “We are all free now…”

* * *

On this great starry night, Gale was once again flying in his now-adult dreams.

His spirit, freed in one fell swoop from the yoke of all materialistic prisons, was floating in this wonderful dream between seemingly absolutely real planets, moving like a great trailblazer starship on a hitherto unknown thrust. It was unspeakably calmly and joyful – as if wings had suddenly grown on his back.

And then an invisible warm wave lifted him and carried him somewhere high up. Two great figures, radiating with an otherworldly light, whose love for him surpassed any human love, tenderly took him into their enormous warm hands. They gently lifted his tiny spirit to their faces – and in that infinite moment, a wave of rapture and bliss, together with tears of joy, swallowed up his whole being…

“Blessed are those who weep, for they will be comforted…”

12.05.2021

[ecotone99]

[SF] In To The Blue (My next decade)

In To The Blue #scifi In To The Blue

By Antti Luode

So 2020 rolled around. I was beat down and broke. Getting old double time, no triple time. Losing my mind on a rocket speed. But that was alright because I was making music. That no one was listening to. But hey. A tune is a tune.

The beginning of twenties I spent lying in my bed. Taking medications that made me forget about the world outside, watching movies when I was not sleeping. Officially a mentally disabled person with nothing to look forward to.

Until that fateful day.

Lets just call it delivarance. Oh crap, that is not how it is written. Deliverence? No, it is not that either, damn spell correction, well, lets try it one more time. Deliverance? Bingo, we have a winner.

Anyhow, back to the source of my deliverance.

Deliverance btw if you did not google it means, "The act of being rescued or set free.".

Well, Jesus Christ did not step down from the heaven even though I had been going to church a bit and praying for that final meal ticket at the end of my miserable life. It was not that.

It was.

Drugs.

Yes.

A miracle drug set me free in the first part of 2020.

The only catch was. It had side effects.

You know how it goes in life. No stroke of luck comes without equal stroke of bad luck. I know, enough with the stroking. Even though..

Ahh.. My mind sometimes, it just leads me to bad places. To baaad places.

But, enough with that. Lets go back to my delivarance.. Crap. I misspelled it again.

Yes. There was a drug that magically cured my epilepsy and my bi polar disease. No more feeling like I was going to be electrocuted to death from inside. Ripped up like the poor bastards on board Nostromo in the movie Alien.. Like the poor victims on the other side of that door in that movie with Jack Nicholson.. Oh waith, they did not die right?

Yes. My mind is rambling.

Ahh.. Yes. There was a cure.

Indeed. But the catch.

It turned me to a woman.

No, I am just kidding with you.

It did not do that.

It turned me to a sheep?

Naaah..

It gave me..

Superpowers?

Yes. That was it. The pill in question had been developed by Elon Musk and was supposedly able to heal any mental disease as he promised. And yes. I rushed to USA when I first heard about it.

Sold all my possessions and left. Just like that. To have that magical pill.

And boy did I get it.

That fateful day at the Neuralink laboratories in California.

NEURALINK LOS ANGELES MAY 2020

I was dead tired from travelling to Los Angeles. With the flight included and the previous day that I could not sleep I had been up some 48 hours. Honestly I was seeing little green men walking on the street where I knew there were none. But the good thing was that I was not lonely.

The green men all were walking to the same direction as I was. The Neuralink industries main building where I had been graciously allowed to pass to.

It was not a ordinary day. It was end of the worst decade in my life. It had started with me being in the best shape of my life at 35 and it had ended up with me being both mentally and physically disabled by my epilepsy.

Yes, my back was broken, my mind was in shambles and I was pretty much Gods joke. Just a loser with nothing to look forward to in the future. So little wonder the promises of Elon Musk of a pill that will "Heal all mental disease including epilepsy". Had made me.. Lets just put it this way. Hopeful.

I knew I was dying, one way or another. Either by the horse pills (referring to their size and and multiplicity) or by the disease. I knew I was not going to make it far in to the 2020´es without a cure.

But here we had a promise of a future.

Sure the price had been a little bit steep. 200 000 thousand dollars for one pill that was not to be digested but instead it was to be sewn inside my skull along with a device that was going to change the way my brain would function.

Each time I was going to get a seizure, it would alter my brain activity and instead of seizure. Something else was to happen.

I walked in.

OPERATION

I was not scared by a brain surgery.

I was dead man walking anyway.

When I went under. I wished for death or cure.

When I came out under the smiling faces of surgeons. I knew something was different.

There was this. .

Surge in happiness.

That was the only way I could describe it.

I had been miserable for most of my life due to my bi polar 2. Which I had been happily unaware of before.

But now. I just could not stop cracking jokes.

My first words to the surgeon were.

"Did you choose the color of your hair cover, blue? Really? Did you feel you have to conform with others? You could not do anything more adventurous?" , he winked back at me and said. "Look who is talking, you half human, half machine."

Cyborg. Yes. I was.

I was, I was. I know I repeated the word twice. But..

I was lying there. The surgeons walked away and in truth.

I had a cybernetic implant.

See. I was in a test program.

This was not much talked about. But I had tweeted something to Elon Musk about wanting to be a test subject. And one night, I got a email from Elon Musk saying that he wants me to pay for the procedure, but if I was willing. I could be one of the test subjects.

And now it was done.

"How do you feel?", someone asked me from the back of the room.

I turned my head to see and saw.

The grinning face of Elon Musk.

"Pretty ok.", I said.

"We are boosting the funny part of your mind right now.", Elon said.

"Sorely needed.", I said and grinned back.

I had been the most miserable person on Earth for most of my life. So yes. I needed funny.

"I did not die.", I said.

"Yes, or heaven was not what it was cracked up to be.", Elon said back.

"Ahh. Cracked. There really needs to be a joke about cracked heaven, but I for one can not think of one right now.", I said and closed my eyes.

"Heaven of Crack addicts.", I said watching in to the darkness behind my eye lids.

"What would that be like?", Elon asked.

"Well, there probably would not be as much blowjobs for strangers as there are in real life.", I said and opened my eyes, looking back at Elon grimacing at my bad joke.

"Did I go too far?", I said.

"Man..", Elon said.

Two weeks later I walked out. Tiny box in my belt constantly monitoring my brain activity and sending results back to Neuralink headquarters.

NEW JOB

So what is a newly divorced cyborg to do in Los Angeles.

Well, I did not do what you think I would do in that position for starters.

Instead since I was allowed to have a visa on medical grounds. I had to get a job.

I did not become a famous musician if that is what you expected of me.

No, instead I got a job at a greasy spoon washing dishes.

Yes. That was about the best I could find. Now my back was keeping me from standing all the time. So I had to get a special chair made. So I sat in that chair 10 hours a day, washing dishes.

And no, I was no longer epileptic. There had been a shift in my thoughts. My mind was tuned to the frequency of jokes. I could not stop joking. I was a funny man. Which was weird, because in my previous life I had been the most miserable sack of excrement you have ever know. Not that you dear reader (my mom?) would have known me. Well, for the exception of my mom of course.

So I was washing dishes in a greasy spoon and telling jokes for everyone who wanted (most did not) to hear. I was telling jokes like it was going out of.. Hmm. How should I put this? Well you know clothes have to conform to certain styles. What is that called? Starts with H? B? No.. F!

Yes, you know. My mind was full of holes from the lost decade and I could not stop telling jokes, nor washing dishes. Because if I had stopped, I would starve to death since on my greencard I was not allowed to have any other kind of social assistance than standing in a bread line with the rest of the poor people of Los Angeles.

HOME

So I got my self a place. It was a tiny room with this disabled woman who could barely breath and was hooked up to a oxygen bottle at all times. But she was a funny disabled woman. She did not expect much from life. If I brought home bacon fries with a double bacon swiss cheese hamburger, she was happy.

I was happy too. I was not thinking of my old life in Finland much. I was not getting daily seizures and I was able to leave my horse pills behind. I was exercising a little bit. Old, but not dying actively as I had been in my earlier life. There was a promise of future.

I was flirting a little bit with the idea of marrying the old woman. Making a honest woman out of her, not that she was honest. She was lying though her teeth at all times. But at least I could trust she would not tell the truth.

Which was good with me.

So we were living in this God forsaken place in the middle of Watts. Police sirens and gunshots were our background noise and in the darkness, the sub bass blaring gangsters made me feel right at home.

I was becoming another person.

I guess you could say I discovered my inner black person. Which was weird because I had been white my whole life. Reading the news and thinking about politics. I could not give a rats ass anymore about those things.

I was thinking about.

Rap music.

I had never felt rap music that much.

But here I was as 2020 was coming to a close. A white man with cybernetic implant, trying to come up with rhymes for a rap song.

I did not even realize I was doing that.

I guess it happened organically, washing dishes at this grease spoon, ten hours a day. Listening to rap.

I began to "Get it.",

It was not what I thought it was about.

It was not about the girls and guns and the alpha male bullshit I thought it had been about.

It was about the life in Ghetto.

Now I was part of the ghetto.

Sure the ghetto people were laughing at me every day, pointing at me and saying things like.

"Shiiit.. Here comes the terminator.", since the secret had got out.

But you know what?

I was not dying and I kind a belonged there.

2021

The first time I installed the music software back on my computer I knew what I was going to do.

I was not going to rap. It was one of the young kids outside who was going to rap. I was going to produce. My job at the greasy spoon had left me a little bit of money to rent this crappy one room office where I had set up a studio.

There, in that studio. I was sitting, feeling my skull with my right hand, thinking about my ex wife. Waiting for the kid to come in.

When I say kid. I mean kid, this kid was 15, I heard him rapping on the bus every day. Singing songs of his peoples. Rapping like a machine gun. Wearing a bandana, dangerous, full of life.

And i was going to produce this mother copula tor.

Why did he choose me?

Because I had written a instrumental piece that worked.

I do not know how I did that. But lets just say that I needed my cybernetic implant to do it.

Without it I would have been dying in my house back home in Finland eating the horse pills with no future. Thinking about dying every single day until I finally would have, one way or another.

Now. I was going to produce this fireball in Watts, Los Angeles.

The kid walked in.

I set up the recording.

He did his thing.

I uploaded it on soundcloud, advertised the poop out of it.

And 5 million plays later the record company was on the phone.

I had a contract with the kid.

We signed.

FIRST MILLION DOLLARS

Million dollars later.

I upgraded the house. We moved with the old lady to a house in the suburbs. I also upgraded the studio into a slightly larger one at a slightly better part of town.

Our life changed. There was articles about me and the kid. I wrote more instrumentals that actually evoked interest, unlike the pieces I had written when I was sick.

I kept on writing instrumental pieces. I kept on getting into contact with more and more people who wanted to make music with me.

There were a lot of reflections on my luck.

"How could this be.", I found myself asking as I found myself being happy for the..

First time in my life? Nah.. First time since the first few years of my marriage..

I was also owner of the greasy spoon where I had earlier worked. The people who I worked for, now were friends for life. The bus driver of the bus line I used to use worked for me. Life was looking very different than it had on the first of January 2020.

I was going to church a lot. Praising God because I actually felt I had actually been blessed instead of cursed. I felt that maybe now God finally had forgiven me for what ever transgressions that had caused him to smite me with epilepsy and bi polar.

2021

Was nothing but going up. I was 47, living in Los Angles with Linda (the old woman with oxygen bottle) and I did not want sex.

All I wanted was to make music. Have friends, joke, and go to church.

My family visited me a few times. We went skiing on the mountains surrounding Los Angeles. I visited my grandmas cousin who had just turned 102 that had lived her whole life in LA.

I was thinking about how different my life would have been had my grandma moved there to back in early nineteen hundreds. But she did not.

I was still Finnish man inside.

But part black.

Yes. That was the weird part. I had been married to a girl from Georgia US for 16 years. But now I was identifying more with the black culture than the white. The booming bass of black music and drums no longer gave me seizures and the feeling I got in black churches was on par with nothing else.

I was high on life.

The first megahit I wrote with the the black kid now widely known as "Fireball", was "I do not want to die tonight.", its words were not about killing or banging. Its words were about not wanting to do as his father before.

To go to jail, to do drugs and die.

The kid had nothing against his father. But now that he was doing well, he could see that there was more to life than that. He genuinely wanted to help his friends back in Watts. And he worked 24 / 7 to do that.

Sure he had more sex and hip hop life style than I had. But he was still using a lot of my beats, I do not know why. But as I said, I think the only explanation could be was my cybernetic implant.

Speaking of which. I was on the Time magazine as the first human patient who had been so successful with the implant. Me and Elon had become friends at this point too. Unlike in my greasy spoon days. I guess my success had won Elon back at my side, after the bad joke about crack addict heaven.

So life was swell. 2021 ended and I turned 48

2022

There was no greater joy for me than to help my friends. I helped every one. As they had helped me. Giving became my profession. I traveled the world to areas that had been struck by catastrophes, me fireball and the rest of the people on my label enjoyed nothing more than to see the faces of people who would suddenly be yanked of their hell to a new life of promise.

Like I had been.

But there was this one little thing that was bothering me. I found myself to be drawn to certain things. Certain things that I had never identified with earlier. To certain business transactions. To certain people. One after another, I was doing things that I felt were not really me.

More and more people had been implanted with the neuralink device and a lot of us had had magical turn around in life. Things were going WELL for us. We were setting up Neuralink only member clubs. With our own golf courses and business empires.

Yes. We were becoming smart. Not just "The smartest kid on high school" smart. But Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking smart.

I had barely got through the "long" mathematic class in high school back home and I knew I was not gifted. But having glanced at mathematics books again. I knew something had changed. I actually was able to ace all questions in my old mathematics books. Interested in this new capability I was venturing into harder and harder maths on my free time.

One evening on the June of 2021 I found myself performing calculations on quantum mechanics and as far as I knew. I was able to come up with a new theory for everything.

I went through my calculations once, twice, three times.

Then I thought about a cell phone number (Neuralink device allowed me to command devices with thought only) and was soon listening to the voice of Elon Musk.

"Look buddy, I am in middle of Tesla stockholder meeting.", Elon said to me, slightly frustrated.

"I think I just proved that universe is a quantum computer that is seeking for the morally best possible ending.", I uttered.

"I have to take a break.", I heard Elon say before he walked to quiet room and said again.

"Shoot.", he said to me.

We perfected the theory that year.

2022

Scientific American ran the story on the cover. "Universe is just a giant quantum calculator.", after that all the other publications ran the story too. Little wonder the Nobel prize of physics was awarded to me and Elon Musk that year.

The theory had vast influences on everything from religion to nuclear energy.

See. The theory laid down the foundations for grand unified theory which had been sought after for..

Since the start of written language.

The theory was not just about the nature of universe, put everything in the nature.

From the mathematical equations I had come up on that night of June. Everything could be derived.

It was like I had stumbled on the seed for the universe.

The founding principles on what God had created the universe on.

Turns out God was searching for the best possible result for every life in the multiverse.

Meaning that all the suffering in our lives is solved somehow. Every life somehow has this turning point after which things are good.

Everybody I knew, somehow would go through the same thing I had gone through. Every miserable alcoholic who I saw on the street, in fact died cured, happy with their family.

It was just that I was not there to see it. Just the same way as I was magically healed by the Neuralink, every other person would have that in their life. Everyone was the center of their own multiverse.

So, all the suffering that I saw. You saw. Was just there for me.

A test of sorts I guess.

What would be after I died. I did not know.

I was a scared by the power of this revelation.

I spent rest of 2022 going to church. I gave away all my money to Linda, the woman I had been living with and moved to Tibet.

2023

One thing that kept on bugging me was that I was drawn to certain things. Certain advertisements, thoughts. Etc.

I was assuming that Elon had added some kind of self interest to the Neuralink device. A natural draw to things that he felt were interesting.

I found myself drinking way more Coca Cola than I really liked. I was eating a lot in the golden arches, the closes thing to Mc Donalds in Tibet.

But here I was. A Christian man in Tibet. My intentions were good.

I wanted to ascend the natural hubris. The money. The fame. The trappings of ego.

So I moved a Buddhist monastery. The only thing that made sense after all.

Christian monasteries would have not wanted me. There was a movement that wanted to stamp all cybernetic people as heretics and I was not one to fight them.

I gave up mathematics. Thinking about foundations of universe and concentrated on watching clouds instead.

The clouds in Tibet were rare. Since Tibet is so high. Not that I got high. Although I occasionally did. There were certain potions that were needed in the ceremonies after all.

And so I watched at clouds. Mountains. People with long grooves in their faces. Like my own face in the mirror. Yes, I was growing old. My family would occasionally call. But for the most part of my stay in Tibet. I was alone.

Yes, every now and then people would come to me and say. "Are you so and so." and I would say. "Yes in my previous life. .", and so it went.

But quiet and clouds were moving to the center stage of my life.

I began painting. Clouds.

The paintings were not much to behold and this time, I did not become very successful, turns out that even the neuralink device would not be enough to turn a 48 year old man into a genius when it came to painting.

But people were still fighting over my paintings. Not that I knew it at first. But the paintings I painted in Tibet were fought over in some circles due to my notorious eccentricity.

"Painting of a cloud by the man who came up with grand unified theory of the universe.", turns out that would sell even if the painting itself was crappy.

I guess I knew how Einstein felt now.

But I was not that smart. The stroke of luck I had had with the GUT was only due to my childhood. I used to think about foundations of universe a lo as a child and the Neuralink device allowed me to do the mathematics needed to do the mathematics.

But without the device.

Yes. I turned the damn thing off sometimes.

I was back on pills on those times.

Feeling horrible.

Painting clouds. Thinking about my ex. Happily married by now. With second child on the way.

And here I was. In Tibet. Painting clouds.

It was one of those experimental times.

That I had another grand mal seizure.

Which broke my neck this time.

So. 2023 ended with the neuralink device back on and me being paralyzed from the neck down.

2024

"The man who turned his back on the gift.", was the headline on "Christian today."

Privately I was thinking about "How could this lead to the best possible moral outcome of the universe for me.", sitting in my wheelchair.

Now wheeled next to Linda. Breathing from her oxygen bottles. . A little glimmer in her eyes, now that I was back on her side.

Us two. Physically disabled people.

So we got married.

Linda was implanted with the Neuralink device too.

We began to live in our heads more and more.

Meanwhile the Neuralink device had got a lot better.

Now, we could escape our bodies to a kind of virtual reality.

The device. Was no longer a device. It was devices. Elon was kind enough to give us the new models that were able to project images senses and sound straight to our brains.

Allowing us to move around in robotic human avatars.

So we were wild and free.

Linda was enjoying not being disabled in a way for the first time since she got sick 30 years ago.

I was enjoying life instead of thinking about it too deeply. I knew that somehow my life would solve itself in a morally best possible solution. Somehow this was needed.

I got back into music business and for the most part, forgot about my real body.

Sometimes I would visit it in our big house. See the teams of nurses wheeling the shadow of me around, locked in a wheel chair. Looking like a dead man.

"Do not worry about that.", Elon would tell me.

"Well be able to upload our minds soon." He assured me, which I knew was real.

Every day the computers were getting more and more powerful and every day the meaning of my biological body was less and less important.

The weird thing was that if that was to happen. I guess I might not die other than in my physical body and if that was to happen. Then I was to live forever.

So how could that me go to heaven then? I wondered quietly at church pew sometimes.

But I still believed.

I had seen prophecies come true, so I did not doubt.

2025

I was watching myself through the eyes of my avatar, sitting inside a machine that was scanning my mind. Meanwhile the vast wealth that I had left for Linda was used to build a massive storage facility that was to store our minds.

I did not know it at the time, but in the future the facility was to be expanded to store minds of many others. These were dizzying times. We were not yet there, but immortality was at hand.

But the thought kept on bugging me. If the uploaded me was to live until the end of universe.

What about heaven?

I was actually getting back into making music. I had created many different avatars for myself. Some looking like historical characters.

My favorite was a avatar of old Frank Sinatra. I liked going to Vegas to perform old Frank Sinatra classics. The cat was kind a out of the bag that it was me singing. But not really me. A robot. First I drew vast crowds, but then the technical perfection that the machine allowed me to do began drawing less and less crowds. My performances were too perfect.

Meanwhile bad art was all the rage.

"Real." It was called.

I realized the suffering me from time before my implant would have been a hit now.

There were more and more of us avatars, doing our perfect art. Living our perfect lives, but like in the "Valley of dolls." something was amiss.

I was not happy. Even though I felt happy.

Neither was Linda.

We were thinking about our future immortality.

What would be the point?

Happy every day?

Possibly able to do things we could not imagine. Move to moons of Jupiter?

Heck. Visit Andromeda galaxy a few thousand years from now if we perfect the warp drive?

Give birth to new conscious minds that live their lives. Endlessly. Trapped in this universe knowing that even our immortality can not help us escape the fact that the universe itself has a deadline.

Yes. We were thinking about distant future, billion of years from now..

See that is how the human mind is. You fix one problem. The mind finds another.

Sure I would remind myself I should not think about that. Who cares about what is going to happen 2 - 22 billion years from now. Maybe we will be able to restart another universe or something.

But that is where I was.

That is where Linda was.

We were thinking about this transition that was to happen.

Because when we were visiting our physical bodies. We knew they did not have too much time.

The mind scanning was coming to close by the end of 2025 and our bodies had been hopped up on all kinds of medicines, but they were not looking too good.

We knew we had to do something.

So we went back to our bodies.

Elon had come up with a solution for the being paralyzed bit. A implant was put to my spine that was able to bridge the gap that had left me paralyzed. Linda was healed with another device and a successful lung transplant.

2026

turned out to be a year of our physical bodies being rehabilitated.

By the end of the year we were both walking pretty good again and Linda was breathing well for the first time in some 30 years. She no longer needed the oxygen nor me.

Yes. we had a divorce.

Linda left to live the life that she had always wanted, which did not include a musician, Christian and a astrophysicist.

So I began to withdraw to my calculations.

Me and Elon would often talk about the universe and its nature. And the more we talked, the more hopeless we got.

We would fly with the prototype Tesla flying car over the vast human mind storage facility. Then fly off to Rockies and talk about possible end scenarios for the universe.

Meanwhile Linda had wanted her mind to be wiped out of the storage all together.

Others on the other hand were uploading their minds en masse. All living their lives, thinking they would have a perfect ending as my theory had postulated.

But I was lost. Going to church my mind was full of doubt even thought I had seen the prophecies come true. Even though I was so blessed in the last six years.

My body was getting stronger. My mind was uploaded to a cloud if you like. Even if I died, my mind could be restarted in silicon. I could be copied and transferred to another facility on Mars or another solar system. All we had to do was to send some avatars that way with our minds and we could be in multiple places at the same time.

But our physical bodies would die.

When we were to close our eyes.

There would be the leap in to the unknown. Still.

By now there was a lot of science based Christian churches, trying to alleviate the suffering of people by promising that the jump was going to be easy. Trying to explain it away. The neuralink devices on the other hand were able to protect us from too great of a pain.

In fact, if I had wanted, I could have turned off all my mental suffering, but I chose to feel some.

Because I was thinking it was telling me something important.

Everything I had dreamed of .

Was in vain.

I knew what was wrong with my life.

I had not lived a perfect life. I had hurt people, I had paid my price.

Sure I had helped a lot of people by now.

But it was not enough. The nagging feeling that my biological mind was left with, would not leave me alone unless if I turned the neuralink device on to do so.

My body was very strong again. The medications that the mid twenties brought were magical. The quantum computers and AI in unison were able to make perfect, tailor made medications that believe it nor not. In 2026 healed me. Also, my spine was actually fixed.

When 2026 was ending.

I was left in a room full of golden records and newspaper articles on the walls. The trophies of my success.

But one face there made me lose my sight on all that.

The face of my ex and me. Standing next to each other in 2002

That was not to be.

No matter how wealthy I had got. No matter how smart.

I could not win her back.

And my mind could not be happy without her.

So I walked out.

Went to Tibet once again.

After a targeted memory wipe kindly provided to me by Elon.

1.1.2027

I opened my eyes. I saw mountains.

I saw a cloud. I was strangely drawn to the cloud.

I was thinking.

I remembered my name. Distant childhood.

I looked at my body.

It was withered and old.

I was aching all over.

There were what seemed like Buddhist monks all around me.

On the altar on the front of us someone was burning incense.

There were dragon gargoyles staring at me from these massive wooden beams.

I looked all around and did not see any trees.

I wondered where they came from.

I sighed.

I felt like I have to pee.

I opened my mouth and to my surprise I spoke Nepali language.

"Who am I", I asked out loud.

"You are one with the cloud", a monk said to me next to me and continued praying.

I looked at the cloud.

It did not have much of a substance. It was white cloud, not too large. With shadows on its bottom. Moving gently towards the distant mountains. It was not hurried. It was not angry. Kind. In fact it did not have a emotion.

But I did. I felt peace.

That year.

I learnt to be me again.

I was told I had asked and received a targeted memory wipe.

Past 30 years of my life wiped away. But I was shown articles and told that I had lived for sure.

I was also told that I had spent the 2010 to 2020 in living hell and that I should be happy I do not remember that time.

Weirdly, I felt like I was ok with that explanation.

But one thing was missing. I did not believe in the prophecies. I was told I had had prophecies, I saw a video of myself testifying about the said prophecies. But it was like watching a video of another person testifying in a church.

It was all very weird.

So I stayed in Tibet.

I developed a intense friendship with our religious leader.

He was telling me about Buddhism. About being present in the moment and he had my unwavering attention. There was nothing else to attend to after all. All electronic devices were forbidden.

In fact most things were forbidden, expect for endless sit downs, meditating. Thinking about nothing at all. Just observing the world around and inside of us.

Letting it be, to go by like that cloud on the sky.

After all we were passing through this life just like the cloud, temporary.

And I was fine with that.

2028

I was visited by a strange man. I did not know him. He had a rugged face. I heard that people called him Mr Sinatra. I assumed he was a look a like, since I knew Sinatra was dead. He looked at me with great compassion. But I did not really care for him. He seemed to go on endlessly about the universe and what it is all about.

It was very weird but he cared for me almost like one would care for a child.

I found it somewhat creepy.

The only thing I liked was him singing songs to us. His rendition of "Angel eyes", "My Way" and "New York, New York". Were better than the original. Mindblowing really.

When he left. I was happy. But the memory of the songs got stuck in my mind.

No one told me anything about the world outside. Yet, I was strangely drawn to making music.

But I thought about my life. What I remembered of it. I had always been a listener, not a maker. I had thought about physics, politics, news and so on. I was not really a musician.

So I did not pursue that. Even though I would play the monastery bells and hit the gong occasionally.

So who were there with me? There was Sajith, Devance and Amir. All very old.

Infact, our group consisted mostly of old farts, close to dying one way or another.

One by one we went. Sajith was close to seventy, he always told me. "Do not look back. There is nothing in life worth holding on to.", I was trying to be ok with his answer.

I guess I was. I was told my life earlier was nothing to really read about. Nothing to behold, I was told that I was happier now than I had been in my previous life.

And I was not really miserable. Devance and me would sometimes play cards. Amir and me played a game called "Civilization" on a fourty years old pc that had been forgotten in one corner of the monk compound by some crazy American millionaire.

We were all looking forward to passing on like a cloud.

2029

Nothing ever changes in Tibet. Expect for the wings of Canadian geese flapping by during some seasons and the few trees losing their leaves only to grow them again.

It was in the new year leading to 2029 that I had a weird idea.

I wanted to climb the Mt Everest.

After all I was used to very high mountain air and there was nothing else to do.

I was not tired of sitting with my fellow monks.

But it just seemed to make sense.

Few weeks later I heard that the news of my wish had been heard by some people who wanted to help.

And I woke up to the sound of blades moving massive amount of air. A helicopter?

"Come on Antti.", Amir was saying as he hurried in to the room, clad in what I recognized were mountain climbing clothing and gear.

"We have everything we need to climb Mt Everest.", Amir said with a smile.

I got up from my creaky bed and walked outside. There, a massive quadcopter was sitting on the ground, surrounded by the monks, touching its surface, its back open with a few pallets of climbing gear and people who were speaking English.

"Hello Antti Luode.", a man said, grinning. "I heard you want to scale Everest?", he said.

"Yes. I think I should be able to do it.", after all I am dying like all of us. So why not die today?", I said and shook his hand.

"Will Smith.", the man said and took my hand. Watching me once again very warmly, in a way that reminded me of my meeting with Mr Sinatra look a like.

"Nice to meet you Will Smith. Are not you that actor?", I said.

"Yes! I heard about what you wanted and wanted to help.", Will said with a grin

TRAINING

We began with training.

It was grueling for our old bodies.

But we were used to grueling in the monastery.

I also remembred I used to exercise in my youth a lot.

So it was not new to me.

We were treated with several medications that were supposed to strengthen our bodies and help us in climbing the Everest.

We started small.

We scaled few local mountains.

We got stronger by the day.

Time went by.

I kept on watching at the clouds.

Dreaming of the day when I would fade like one of those clouds.

In to the blue.

Me and Amir had a lot of talks about that day.

"You know there is no fear in passing.", Amir would tell me.

"There is only change from one state to another.", he would continue as we climbed up the mountain.

"The thoughts will cease and you will be like the wind.", he said. Smiling. Stopping.

Devance cracking a joke about the wind behind me.

"Way to break the feeling.", I would say back to Devance.

Sajith on the other hand would seriously just go on.

Waiting on to the next life as wind.

By the end of our training.

Sajith became the wind.

He just did not wake up one morning.

Smile on his face.

In his funeral the feeling was very transcending.

Will Smith kept looking at us like we knew something that he did not.

I spoke with him sometimes. About the incredible fact that he was there, that I had had memory wipe, about how the old me was. But then I would interrupt. "I do not want to know.", and I did not.

I did not want to know, I was happy where I was. Looking forward to walking up the worlds tallest mountain.

June first 2029

We were all sitting in our tents at our last camp before reaching the summit of Mt Everest.

I was reading a bible that I got from a couple that had broken in to our summer cottage when I was a child. They had left it with a note. "We are sorry for living in your cabin, but we had hard times." They had cleaned the whole cabin and left that one bible.

On the front page of it was my name written with almost unrecognizable hand writing of a 7 year old. On the section of it where there were "The dead relatives." I had written down the name of my grandpa written with the same blocky letters of a first grader.

I was beyond broken. Our ascend had been hard. It would have been hard for a twenty year old, let alone for a 56 year old not so healthy man.

But I was determined to go on.

The only person in our group that seemed like it was no problem was the mysterious Will Smith.

I did not understand how a human being, especially one as old as he. Could be so non chalant about a climb. Another thing that I was marveling was how he did not seem to eat. He said he had a bit in his tent. But he was getting by with very little.

It was morning.

We got up.

I looked at the summit, at the blackish sky above it. The vast mountain range going towards India behind me. I thought about my life. How it had been. How I heard it had been. And how it would be.

I was going to reach the summit of Mt Everest today. Maybe Passing away on the way. But I was going to reach it. In spirit or in body. I did not care.

Neither did the rest of us.

It was nothing to the rest of us monks. They did not believe in conquest, but they did believe in friendship and they were following me. I did not know why. But they were following me.

We packed our tents. We began walking up the icy mountain side.

I was walking on the front. Occasionally we came by dead bodies that had frozen in the ice, trying to do the same as we were doing today. God knows why. Some of them very rich, very happy. Knowing they could die.

I guess they had reached their dream.

We were walking up.

Behind me, the monks were humming a prayer.

Will Smith joined along, he was fantastic. It seemed that just like Sinatra, he could emulate any sound.

I knew there was more to it than that. But I did not want to know.

I knew my life before had been so fantastical and miserable at the same time that I did not care to know any more mind blowing secrets. Secrets that I knew my past life was shrouded in.

So up we walked. One step at a time. In to the blue

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