Ravens of Eternity

462 Dark Communion, Pt Freya and Raijin looked at the landscape all around them. The expansive grassy field stretched all the way out to the horizon in every direction, and met the sunny bright blue sky above. The vast emptiness accentuated the fact that there was absolutely nothing and no-one else around them.

“Where are you?” they asked. “Why can’t we see you?”

Godeater responded from all around, and even from within, as though it inhabited the galaxy itself. Perhaps in a way, it did.

“There is no biological equivalent to the reality of my existence,” it replied.

“Honestly, anything would probably work,” Freya and Raijin said. “Just… turn yourself into a person, like us. We can talk easier that way, don’t you agree?”

A single moment lapsed as a feeling of understanding swept through the both of them. And then a body shimmered into existence right in front of their body. It was that of an androgynous, genderless albino with long platinum hair and bright pink eyes.

They watched as Godeater’s dark blood pumped under its beautifully translucent skin.

“Is this a sufficient enough form for you?” it asked.

They nodded in approval.

.....

“As that matter appears to be settled, let us begin our exchange,” Godeater continued. “What is your purpose in opening this dialogue? I require your reasons for requesting our convergence.”

Both found Godeater’s speech odd, as though it was someone from out of town and was asking for directions. Though in a way, that was certainly true.

They realized that it was attempting to speak to the both of them, in the ways that they communicated best.

“We need to know why you’re doing this,” Freya and Raijin answered. “We asked you before, but didn’t quite get what you were saying. But now that we’re here, we wanna hear you say it again. In your own voice and your own words.”

Godeater tilted its head slightly as an expression of curiosity spread across its face.

“Please define ‘this’,” it replied. “I require specificity in your meaning. I am unable to process otherwise.”

“We mean, why are you destroying the galaxy?” they said. “You’re turning the galaxy into more of you. At least, as far as we can tell.”

Godeater slowly nodded in understanding.

“Rehabilitation of local systems is a key component of my instruction set,” it said after a brief pause. “Deconstruction is a necessary phase of the procedure. Although I find it curious that your reaction to the deconstruction stage is abnormal.”

“Abnormal?” Freya and Raijin said. “That’s putting it lightly! Damn! You’re wiping us all out! And for… for whatever it is you’ve been ‘instructed’ to do. And honestly, what kind of person would tell you to do that?!”

“I am unable to relay that information. You do not have the authorization to receive it, nor the capacity to understand it.”

“Try,” Raijin and Freya replied flatly. “You might be surprised at our ‘capacity to understand’.”

Godeater stared at the both of them for a moment as it processed what they were demanding of it. At that moment, it calculated the hundreds of the things it should or could do, then decided on the most prudent and efficient one.
“Very well,” it said.

The world all around them shifted, and everything all around became mostly transparent. The grass, the ground, the sky, the sun – all shifted so their exteriors became almost completely see-through. Even their own body.

When they peered at everything, they saw numerous lines of code all running alongside each other. There were strings of genomic code, and programmatic digital code, and some other kinds of code that they couldn’t immediately identify. But everything had them.

The grass bent and swayed according to the code nestled in their stalks, a direct result of the code set in the wind. The grasses around them tickled their legs as they rustled lightly from that wind, which set off a whole series of code to ripple out from the interaction.

When they flexed their fingers, they watched as that code shifted and changed and flowed in their hand, their arm. The changes reverberated through their bodies, and echoed to every corner where they were absorbed even if it didn’t seem relevant.

Both were already acutely aware of how their minds and bodies operated, and could practically control themselves from a molecular level.

But seeing all the instructions and codesets as plain as day was more than a revelation. They could literally see their bodyparts’ ‘thoughts’ translated and transformed and transmitted all throughout the rest of their body.

When they looked at Godeater, they saw similar genomes and programs. But many that were far more complex and far more nuanced. Even their combined mind could hardly understand the vast majority of it.

And unlike their own code, its code didn’t just flow up and down its body. It seemed to exude outward in waves, like a rippling pool. Those lines of code seemed to permeate into everything all around them, the grass, the ground, the sky, the sun. Their own body, too.

Once they got a good look at it all, the transparency faded away and was replaced by their ‘usual’ opaqueness.

Freya and Raijin felt a pang of sadness at seeing it all vanish. Some part of them wanted to keep looking, to keep reading, to keep studying.

“Our instructions,” Godeater said after a moment. “They are intrinsic to our natures. We do and act and behave as has been laid in our beings.”

It dawned on Freya and Raijin what it meant about ‘instructions’. Not that someone or something told it to do what it was doing to their galaxy. It was all simply a part of who it was. They realized that perhaps it didn’t see its actions as destroying life.

Or that perhaps it didn’t define life the same way they did. Perhaps it didn’t see them as living beings.

Maybe, if they could convince it what it was doing, then it could change course.

“We understand the importance of your… instructions,” Raijin and Freya said. “However, is there a way to stop them? If not stop, then perhaps merely a halt, or a pause?”

“Certainly,” Godeater replied. “I have committed to a brief operational halt designed to investigate an anomaly during the procedure.”

Both were taken aback instantly. They realized that they were the anomaly it was talking about. More than that, while they went into these talks to come to a diplomatic solution, Godeater was here simply to satisfy its own curiosity.

“Is there another way to stop?” asked Freya and Raijin. “We mean, you’re killing all of us. Wiping us out completely. You know what that’s like? Just killing off countless people? Septillions of us, gone, like that. All our dreams and desires. Everything we love and care about, gone.

“Surely, there’s something in your instructions that avoids killing life wholesale.”

Godeater paused once more as it considered what they were trying to tell it. It quickly understood, of course. Not that its expression changed.

“You speak of love,” it began. “A necessary set of biological signals that express a selfless protectiveness. Many sentient species share this trait. For example, many mothers will protect their young from predators with their own bodies.”

It looked away, off into some distance as it compiled the countless species that exhibited love.

“Despite your natures, it appears that you also have this truly selfless trait,” Godeater continued. “Which now clarifies why you equate the deconstruction phase as that of destruction. It is lamentable.”

Freya and Raijin smiled widely as Godeater spoke. They felt that they were finally getting closer to understanding each other. They were filled with hope that Godeater would be able to fully empathize with them and stop.

Or, at the very least, understand what it was doing, and perhaps reconsider its actions.

“Since it’s lamentable like you say, then maybe you should consider doing something else to… to rehabilitate our galaxy, don’t you think?” said Raijin and Freya.

But Godeater shook its head.

“There is no other option,” it said. “Stopping or slowing the process is not tenable. Nor is it even possible. It does not matter that your species has reached a Tier 3 Awareness with high functioning reason and selflessness.

“As a whole, your species has been wholly destructive inside of your local environments. No matter what positive traits you may have developed, you are all still infected with an instruction set that causes mass devastation.

“Your very presence destroys your reality, and corrupts it. This codified corruption pervades through all your societies, and is reflected along every level, from your cellular matter to your massed colonies. Your species has eradicated lifeforms on entire planets in order to grow these massive colonies.

“This growth may be beneficial to your species, but at the cost of every other species that exists. At the cost of life in general.

“Beyond that, species with a Tier 3 Awareness are not cognizant of the greater whole. Few understand that they are merely smaller parts of one larger body. This lack of realization leads to a fundamental selfishness that fosters systematic corruption.

“The only answer is rehabilitation.”

Freya and Raijin sighed at length as Godeater spoke. They easily identified with what it was saying. Both humans and drogar spread all throughout the galaxy and settled everywhere they could. And in doing so, ripped up the land to better accommodate them.

They even built massive cities that sprawled across the surface of countless planets, which marred their natural beauty. All in the name of expansion and growth and progress.

And people thought it was a good thing.

“Alright, we’ll give you that,” Freya and Raijin replied. “We’re wasteful as hell. And we destroy everything we touch. We know. It’s bad. But not all of us do that! Some of us want to improve the galaxy we’re in, to grow alongside whatever wonders are out there.

“And hell, we even tried to show that we could do something like that. Live in harmony with the planet surrounding us. We were doing really well, even if it was just for a few cycles. But you destroyed it! You took them out as though they meant nothing at all!”

But Godeater shook its head unequivocally. Its expression was plastered with a hard grimace that clearly disagreed with what they were saying.

“Perhaps I am unable to elucidate myself properly,” it said. “Your species does not just affect your local galaxy, but across an infinite amount of parallel universes. As I had mentioned, your species causes corruption to spread societally and molecularly.”

Freya and Raijin were taken aback by what Godeater was trying to tell them. They were attempting to wrap their minds around what it was saying, but just couldn’t quite understand.

“Parallel universes?” they asked. “What, like our old Earth and our new one? That kinda makes sense… And you’re saying just us being here breaks them? That part doesn’t, at all! We mean, we’re born out of those universes! We’re products created by them. How could we possibly threaten them?”

“As I have already mentioned, your species is a corruption,” Godeater replied. “Many in your galaxy suffer from cancerous growths. Wayward instructions in your cells to continue dividing and growing and expanding without cessation. There is a wanton need to destroy all other cells in preservation of themselves.

“Similarly, your species is a cancer to whatever planet you are on. Vast colonies of reconstituted stone and metal, ever growing, ever expanding. All without cessation. And the expansion hardly stops at the planet itself.

“All of you are a cancer in your own local galaxy, spreading, destroying, consuming.

“Worse, this cancer spreads fractally. Your existence affects all realities, all galaxies at the same time. Specifically, the realities where you are all present. Your very natures are endemic to this dissolution of the entire system.


“The only means to excise this cancer and corruption is to perform a system-wide rehabilitation from every level up and down across the infinite. All at the same time.

“It is a tireless duty, but one that I exist to fulfill.”