OV VOID 、 OV WAR.
HĒGEOMAI
I.
EDEN
“ Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known. ”
EDEN II
“ The significance of our lives and our fragile planet is then determined only by our own wisdom and courage. We are the custodians of life's meaning. We long for a Parent to care for us, to forgive us our errors, to save us from our childish mistakes. But knowledge is preferable to ignorance. Better by far to embrace the hard truth than a reassuring fable. If we crave some cosmic purpose, then let us find ourselves a worthy goal.”She turned page after page. What could bring these words back 、 if not the ones who spoke them in the first place. Aria does not know what's got its teeth in her. But this wayfarer 、 this dear astronomer 、 looked to Entrati the Outcast and Loid who helped chart the stars for mankind 、 for an semblance of these ancient passages. The Lorists would never forgive her for this. The golden lords will tear her from the skies for this 、 if they don't finally take her mother.“ It is sometimes said that scientists are unromantic, that their passion to figure out robs the world of beauty and mystery. But is it not stirring to understand how the world actually works — that white light is made of colors, that color is the way we perceive the wavelengths of light, that transparent air reflects light, that in so doing it discriminates among the waves, and that the sky is blue for the same reason that the sunset is red? It does no harm to the romance of the sunset to know a little bit about it. ”
The child wondered. And wondered. That pale blue dot reflects in her own pair of beautiful ceruleans 、 twinkling at the sight of the Earth. Is that where they all originated from? As the stories said 、 from some Eden ? Have the Gods in paths way higher grown tired of extending their long benevolent hands into the once-fertile and resourceful worlds in exhaustion of their own depletion?
Void have mercy.
SEMPITERNAL
XATA
“ Before we invented civilization our ancestors lived mainly in the open out under the sky. Before we devised artificial lights and atmospheric pollution and modern forms of nocturnal entertainment we watched the stars. There were practical calendar reasons of course but there was more to it than that. Even today the most jaded city dweller can be unexpectedly moved upon encountering a clear night sky studded with thousands of twinkling stars. When it happens to me after all these years it still takes my breath away. ”
“ It began long before us, we who now live our perfect and dull, endless lives. It began long
before these moon-palaces and body-markets hurling around our golden sun. It began long before
our light-coil thinkers, our radiation wars, our oil, smoke. It began with us. The continuity and its twin, wanderlust. The need for unseen shores deep in our marrow. No judge, jester, queen, or king can escape
this old blood. We are nomads, eternal. And when no ocean, mountain, or sky could contain us..our gaze hungered star-ward. Afar, they mocked us with their brittle light. Winking and jeering like
dangling Ayatans, forever out of reach, illuminating the truth: immortal as we are - we die with the sun. ”She counted the stars for what they were — specks beyond the thick glass 、 surrounded by an even grander darkness 、 obscured by astronomical units of different varieties. petty 、 petty ayatans. Though she cannot grasp them from where the majesty they belonged 、 something within her gnawed to do so. These distances extend beyond her grasp. Eternity weighs heavily upon her head. But she's the very prevalence that acknowledges it and follows.
“The Cosmos extends, for all practical purposes, forever. After a brief sedentary hiatus, we are resuming our ancient nomadic way of life. Our remote descendants, safely arrayed on many worlds throughout the Solar System and beyond, will be unified by their common heritage, by their regard for their home planet, and by the knowledge that, whatever other life may be, the only humans in all the Universe come from Earth. They will gaze up and strain to find the blue dot in their skies. They will love it no less for its obscurity and fragility. They will marvel at how vulnerable the repository of all our potential once was, how perilous our infancy, how humble our beginnings, how many rivers we had to cross before we found our way. ”She will find a way. As life will 、 one day.ᅠ
ᅠ
“ The visions we offer our children shape the future. It matters what those visions are. Often they become self-fulfilling prophecies. Dreams are maps. ”
OLD BLOOD
ARIA
So much gold. Too much 、 even. It was no longer precious 、 just a mere aesthetic. If she to one day be gilded from the brood 、 She'd not want that metal to adorn her. She'd rather steel. Forged 'neath the brutality of the hammer. She longed for longevity. Not brief extravagance. But this ambition — It'd be a threat to herself as it'd be a threat to the lords.“ If we continue to accumulate only power and not wisdom, we will surely destroy ourselves. Our very existence in that distant time requires that we will have changed our institutions and ourselves. How can I dare to guess about humans in the far future? It is, I think, only a matter of natural selection. If we become even slightly more violent, shortsighted, ignorant, and selfish than we are now, almost certainly we will have no future.”Her name is Ariel. Aria to the lords.
And in her grip 、 the tail of the greatest tide. She looks to her cold hands. A grain of dust in this vastness 、 In this endless, senseless black night of irrefutable violence where their make had been made into eternity. From a vessel wandering aimless 、 insignificant 、 and wretched in this frigid void 、
The stars, like specters, shine soullessly. What she so once grasped before was caressing the skin within her palm. In this deep void 、everything seems inevitable.
In the indifference 、 In this infinite and senseless night 、 Lies the unfathomable 、 dark 、 and cold emptiness.
“ The vast distances that separate the stars are providential. Beings and worlds are quarantined from one another. The quarantine is lifted only for those with sufficient self-knowledge and judgment to have safely traveled from star to star. ”ᅠ
She's seen the lights up in the skies 、 like beacons of other-shores. Gulfs unfathomable beckoning forward. The way she gazed upon the grandiose ebony and its glittering. Blooming meadows drift on the golden tide. The path of stars was beyond the safety of Sol. And beyond the grasp of the Golden Lords. Where their long arm presented benevolence and inescapable grasp 、 eternity defied them at every reach. She can feel it. And she reaches back to what has always been there 、 amidst the celestials and skies forged by demise throughout the thread of gold. Aria no longer feared the scorch. Nor did she fear her lords no more. That purpose reflected in the shine of her teal eyes. And it vexed as it amused. Aria — the daydreamer 、 was deemed psychotic. No better than Rell.“Once we lose our fear of being tiny, we find ourselves on the threshold of a vast and awesome Universe which dwarfs -- in time, in space, and in potential -- the tidy anthropocentric proscenium of our ancestors. ”Stepping forward into the unknown 、 she's left it all behind. Let her be discovered there 、 beyond the grasp of all of them.“ If we are to send people, it must be for a very good reason - and with a realistic understanding that almost certainly we will lose lives. Astronauts and Cosmonauts have always understood this. Nevertheless, there has been and will be no shortage of volunteers. ”The lot of them were optimized to these conditions. But the lot of them wouldn't have foreseen the onslaught of their own parents — or of what became of them. Aria had longed abandoned the sentiments however. Even if her mother's song is now forever engraved in her mind. But here she is 、 waiting in an ocean of darkness and in mystery only her kind could see where humanity had been entirely lost 、how alone and vulnerable it was in the dimensions folding 、 realities intertwining where cosmic horror additionally found its place. From the depths or the void 、 the smile watched them. Them 、 Faced with the unspeakable 、 the incomprehensible 、 the immense 、 are most vulnerable still.
UNDONE
ARMAGEDDON
It was much easier to hide from the sun than to step into the ocean. From the gaze of the Lords 、 to something more violent. Yet now it's her one and only parent. She'd think she'd prefer to be lost instead. But in that void, In the grasp of everything that has ever matter and that will ever matter 、 everything she once mortally sought out 、 was there. This used to give her significance as a mortal. But — now what ? She's an Eidolon of what she used to be ; An Eidola.
"Citizens. Colonists. In our name, you venture forth. In our honor, you will build. By our will, you are chosen. Our love is absolute."
The system is burning. So much has been exhausted.
"The future of the Origin System is... uncertain. Some think it is destined to burn. I still have faith, and you, fortunate colonists, are the reason. With your help. We will outgrow this crowded nest, spread our wings to the cosmos, and take flight."
Tuvul and Aria were deathly similar had one not taken Tuvul' orokin lunacy to the core. She hated the fact that of it.
"We are deathless, above you citizens as the mountain is above the ant, and yet we envy you, little people. How marvelous a thing it will be to dwell under an alien sun?"
"Those citizens who follow after you, secure in the comfort of an extrasolar Rail, will wish they had shared in your hardship. How reverently they will speak of those who blazed the trail! How prized your simple genetic stock will be!"
That is why her mother and father had been chosen. Why 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 had to endure ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.
"On the eve of this great adventure, the first Void Jump beyond the cradle of the Origin System. We - the Orokin Seven - salute you, our brave citizen colonists.We do not gamble with the lives of our beloved citizens. The jump will be over in a mere moment. Within this mighty metal heart, all of you are as safe as babes in arms.I, Executor Tuvul, would never condemn a mere citizen for being afraid. You stand upon the precipice. It is natural to tremble. But see that you set your jaws and hold your tongues. Do not infect others with your shameful misgivings.Whispers are the currency of the petty mind. Citizens who walk upright have no time for them. Root out treachery as you would root out a malignancy in your child.We have learned that some of you consider the jump too dangerous. Remember, citizens, the air you breathe aboard the Zariman is not free. It is a luxury you are permitted to indulge in, and like any privilege, it can be revoked. Be aware of this danger, too.Citizens, be aware. You will never be out of our reach. If you squander this venture, you will know no forgiveness. We have your names, our loyal servants stand ready to punish your families at our word.Since you citizens cannot be brave, since you refuse to stifle your infantile urges, howling and whining like ungrateful children, you shall be punished. Food is hereby restricted to one meal per day. "
There was no fault in fearing the unknown. Let alone 、 fearing certain disaster. He said it himself. They have small lives. Insignificant to them 、 but to the expanse they now dive into 、 they meant everything. Aria sunk into herself into her brother. The twins looked to their parents. This wasn't in plan. And as far as she can tell, they couldn't hide anything though they wished they could.
"How dare you fear? What do you imagine you have to lose? You citizens are born to die. Such is your lot! But even such a death as yours may be meaningful if it serves Us. In this alone is your salvation.We stretched forth our Great Hands, shaped to match our generosity, and we gave. Such abundance! You citizens were to be the first to settle a new system! And now your bestial defiance has cast you into the pit. Come to those hands again, and you will find them closed to you.Hear me, if you still can. Microscopic creatures live upon your skin, and yet you are oblivious to their existence. So it shall be with the Seven and yourselves. We wash our hands of you. The Zariman project is no more."
From hearing his bitter lips bicker throughout the Zariman 、 to having to look him in the eye one day after.
Where there were real questions and problems 、 and answers from those that impinge on her without relief 、 to that which differs from itself 、 to that which exists only as becoming 、 now have her at the precipice of unbecoming. Not by choice. Not by design. By true force now. Tuvul himself saw this in her eyes now. Where there were great ceruleans 、 now are voids to reflect not match the majesty that has claimed the children. Albeit — her eyes have turning singularities for pupils. What an engulfing gaze. Empty and all the wonderful. Their silent roar pierces the darkness 、a cry from the depths of reality. In their unfathomable vortex 、 he saw everything is devoured. His blue and regal countenance is was torn asunder in the reflection. But not him alone. The stars 、 matter 、 hopes 、 all annihilated. Their murderous halos engulf the infinite. A macabre dance in apathy. This revelation wasn't taken lightly 、 if not taken bitterly. Aria was to cover her eyes indefinitely. Out of sight. Out of mind.It was servitude from then on. And from where she was plucked 、 she had been returned to that supposed miniscule dwarf 、 far — far away from the embrace of the sun. As a matter of symbolic approach at first — she was left to an Emperor and their Dax. They'd rather turn her violence against herself in this caged position in a gold bastion for a prison 、 since Margulis did not have the heart to deal with those like her. She resembled the outcast of Rell to this extent of abandonment 、 although the child didn't care. Instead in her silence 、 she listens to the expanse itself singing in her head. They hold mental compositions unlike anything else. And though she wasn't allowed to look at the skies anymore 、 they were still promised to her. She'd roar one day 、 and she'd extend her wings one day 、 razors gliding through constraints and earthly bounds to find themselves cutting silent paths in spaces unseen 、 horizons beyond these. And truly 、 although she can't express anything underneath this golden subjugation 、 she swore to it more than her mortality did. To think it'd take Aria to understand her mother this well now 、 in an age without her. The arts expressed more directly than the sciences but only articulated through the absolute and ungeneralizable singularity: the continuity of the real 、 the immersion of life and matter in the real 、 the force and effect of duration. And even then 、 Neither science nor art can simultaneously grasp both the relentless universal force of difference 、 and its absolute specificity: as each touches upon one it elides the other.She has to run alone with everything she's ever known. With blinded eyes searching for functions somewhere ‘between’ these approaches 、 and places 、 and the waves of war between the sea and shore 、 seeking the two-faced movement of universalization and particularity 、 of generalization and individuation 、through that which unites them: the fine dual force of duration 、 the double generation of the past and the present 、 where everything mattered and everything is to be executed to the map of design 、 the virtual and the actual 、 which is the movement of difference of existence and nonexistence 、 time and untime、 dust and dream.The Dax lived humble lives as far as they could. Being amongst them and Teshin 、 the blades she lifted can only be lifted by her herself. With every execution of the blade 、 she dances with herself in her becoming ; Aria had been given Excalibur. Her becoming that is the operation of self-differentiation of the Tenno. An elaboration of her free will that wasn't so free but well decided of a difference within her being 、 a quality or a system that emerged in the actualization found only in duration while duration in this instance is the ‘field’ in which difference lives and plays itself out. This duration is that which undoes as well as what makes: to the extent that duration entails an open future — an open future she seized that fateful day in the Outer Terminus. In her final suffering it involved the fracturing and opening up of the past and the present to what is virtual in her 、 to what in her differs from actuality 、 manifesting a horror of her that brought forth the new. This unbecoming is the very motor of becoming 、 making the past and present 、 making eternalism 、fundamentally ever altering, virtuality. Where this power had manifested was not upon the execution of her Emperor 、 her Lord. Nor was it given by the smile in the walls that well kept itself hidden in hindsight. The power of free will is eternal. And conscious. The old blood has become the everlasting prevalence. And she 、 the 10th beating 、 in its wake has pumped the blood of the empire into the oceans of Oblivion.Recession into her own sleep 、 she chose this once over the imprisonment in the belly of Lua. Aria had given difference the ontological approach rather than a logical 、 semiological 、 political or historical category. As a relation between fields 、 strata and chaos. It is a movement beyond dualism 、 beyond pairs 、entities or terms. Difference —— is the methodology of life 、 and 、 indeed 、 of the universe itself. Things in their specificity and generality 、 and not just terms 、are the effects of difference 、 though difference is not reducible to things insofar as it is the process that produces things and the reservoir from which they derive.Aria 、 now Eidola 、 lives by her head and head alone. The Indifference took more than her flesh. Now different things play out critically akin to the not-differences in nature 、 turning out 、 in the end 、 to be merely the modes of expansion 、 evolutions 、 or actualization of internal difference: they turn out to be the lowest degree, the slowing down 、 of differences of degree. She doesn't adhere to this in particular. But her growth unlike the the others was definitely gentler and in a lonelier path that didn't require the necessity of speed and grandiose theatrics when all it mattered was to arrive at all. And in turn 、 differences of degree can be seen as the acceleration and expansion of differences in nature or kind. Each becomes the slower or faster 、 compression or dilation of one and the same pulsating unbecoming. It is no longer a question of ‘undoing’ the binary terms even temporarily, of freeing up the subordinated term in an oppositional or dualistic structures, for dualisms cannot be resolved either through monism 、 which involves the reduction of the two terms to one 、 a form of eschaton 、 or through the addition of extra terms – as if three or four terms — adversaries 、 would somehow overcome the constraint of the two 、 or the one 、 for the two binary terms are commonly translatable into a single term and its negation.
CONQUEROR
GODHOOD
“ These days there seems to be nowhere left to explore, at least on the land area of the Earth. Victims of their very success, the explorers now pretty much stay home. ”
Eidola has came to be on that final beating of the naga drum. The worlds became silent. And the Tenno were gone 、 along with Aria. Aria who lived nowhere that wasn't in her head and in her dreams 、 her wonders. It is time to leave the past behind. While the (imprisoned) Lotus collected her brood 、 Aria had been taken in by the void itself. The cooing of angels vibrate in her mind. And so did the song of her mother. There was nowhere else to go. Nowhere left to see. Nothing else to be. In her dreams 、 she became one with imagination ; or actually 、 controlled with proficiency conceptual embodiment. She created times. She created seas. She created worlds. She created in dream. And destroyed in concrete reality. But her body —— what was tenno flesh became something more. Overtime 、 everything she was/is has been inherited by Eidola. And manifests in the form of song.The VOIDSINGER has been born.In her individual wake from the minds of the child she once was 、 from the warlord and principality she once was 、 Eidola awakens from endless executions. Everything stunted had been cut off. New growth took root. And she blooms throughout the void 、 her essence spreading as far as her influence where the mercurial churned and rejoiced in the coldest depths of the void.
ᅠ
ᅠ✶
ᅠ
ᅠ
“ I profess untold truths. Sacrilegious to the lesser of my once-been. Now of indifferent celestial might; a foreboding tribulation engenders the cosmic end where we all began. Though I imbibe from the chalice of possible heresy 、 I’m entangled by an abstruse dream of eternal perpetual suffering before the altar of stars. We are — lonely in our perpetual mortality. I have witnessed the cores of existence snuffed out like flame 、 their spirit inhaled through the maw of the void of swirling maelstrom. I sing to this. For I have seen the daggers of light
pierce the sea of clouds 、 cold hands weave the quantum foam. I have it observed arise from the deep. And we resonate. We've always have. It has called me here into entropic procession as thunderous waves
crack asunder the shores of time. And in what could be perceived as a second 、 I've felt the pain of infinite suns. And I've behels the colossus 、 the very antithesis of creation upon the throne of entropy. The inexplicable is silently whispering to soothe. And I must too; Spectral voices sing the oath that contends life and death. And if I must dream to soar above it 、 I'll dream forever. ”
