Nature runs wild like a child as it takes what it desires and runs through any obstacle posed, its hands spreading through the fabric of reality and weaving tapestries. Chaos is Nature’s primordial creator, who makes and destroys everything all within the same breath, weaving the same tapestries while simultaneously pulling apart every thread and splitting every hair. Order and Man take the tapestries, and reweave them in soulless mimicry. Man wove a tapestry so beautiful, so grand, yet so soulless that it ripped itself apart into unrecognizable clumps. The pieces of the tapestry tore at themselves and others, searching for the myth of Perfection, running through Nature and stealing all its gifts and wishes to create newer lives. For Man is the enemy of Nature, the killer of it, and the flippant ally of Chaos and Order alike.
A man stood over the hulking mass of flesh that writhed and cracked under pressure of its own design, a needle clutched tight in its swollen hand like a lifeline. It stared at the sky, eyes bulging as if to take in the very secrets of the universe itself, before rolling from its head like glassy marbles to an uncertain goal. The man plucked the needle from its clenched fist, and frowned with disdain as though the sight before him was nothing but a sour taste in the back of his throat, watching with resignation as the thing opened itself up to him, spilling out the form of a young girl like an decomposing plant leaking its poisons.
He crouched before her, a sigh escaping his body as pale eyes gazed upon the NuBorne. A newly born, yet fully developed, creation of cells fostered in another’s body. An abomination of life, thought him, but he knew all too well that they had no say in their birth; much less the grisly manner in which they would be spat into the world. Though they may look like adults, he knew that NuBornes were nothing more than mature babies – sponges of behavior and language. While he wished to be able to stop the suffering of the Host, he knew that he had needed it to happen, for a reason he had yet to fully actualize.
“Get enough beauty sleep?” Despite his dry tone, he lent the NuBorne a hand, to move her from her mess.
The girl merely stared at him with opalite eyes, uncertainty permeating every inch of her being, before words that were spoken like rocks spilling from her tongue were uttered: “Who are you?”
“Hm, you must’ve picked up manners from your Host. My name is Genesis, but just call me Gene,” As the girl clutched his hand, he pulled her to her feet, “And what about you?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“My Host didn’t know many names,” She began, her face scrunching like a young child in deep thought, “Does everyone have a name?”
“Yes. If you’d like, I can give you a book of names to look through, or I can name you.”
“What about Solanine?” Suddenly, she perked up, as if the name was perfect.
Unfortunately, all that was elicited from Gene was a surprised chuckle, shaking his head to clarify: “Like the poison from green potatoes? Seriously? You’ve gotta be joking…”
“It’s a nice sounding name, and my Host was a botanist,” The girl affirmed, steadying herself to cross her arms in mimicry of who stood before her.
“Naming yourself after a potato poison is absurd. What about Nova? It means ‘new’, it’s short and sweet. Or perhaps, if you’re set on botany-related names…Calla?”
“Solanine.”
“...can I at least call you Sola for short? Or Nine?” Gene shook his head, sensing that arguing with such a fresh NuBorne could end in disaster for both.
“That’s sufficient,” Solanine concluded, shaking Gene’s hand with a shocking amount of force, “It’s nice to meet you, Gene.” Her face contorted into the attempt of a smile, teeth fully bared like an animal threatening another, eyes scrunched up in an approximation of joy.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Nine. You’ve got a lot to learn, starting with clothes and appearances, so c’mon. Besides, it’s going to get crowded here soon with the ruckus your Host kicked up.”
“Why should I follow you?” She seemed unsure, hesitating despite Gene taking multiple steps ahead.
“I’m taking you in, teaching you the way of the world. Since I found you, it’s basically my responsibility. Seriously, hurry up, or fend for yourself, we’ve got places to be, Miss Potato Poison.”
A moment was taken, the air stagnating for an eternal second, before the sound of bare feet came up behind Gene, followed by: “Fine, but you better have nice clothes for me. I’m not wearing musty hand-me-downs.”
“Yep, yep, yep, all nice new things. God, what did you get from your Host?”
Man was not satisfied with the murder of Nature, far from it. It challenged Death next, desperate to conquer all forces of the Universe that did not follow Man’s desires. Man tampered with cells of its own kin, promising to its kind for a miracle cure, and it succeeded. It began making needles upon needles of these “miracle cures”, parading it as an answer to the greatest problem Man faced: the Great Equalizer, Death. However, Man was not so flawless as to miss a crucial problem in its quest for immortality.