Measure’s kingdom dances across his vision, itself replacing the stars of the night through the sheerness of it’s luminosity. Majestic spires, boxy effigies, and abstract constructs all share the same lines of light that span their length towards the heavens. Each bears such a glow that any normal man would have to blink out the spots in their vision to take in the full beauty of them.
When they had taken this moon city from those wannabe nazis- then named Kracht in their undying arrogance- he remembered how cold and dark this city they had felt. Walking through utilitarian street after street, it felt more comparable to a catacomb than the bastion of humanity and dragons that it was meant to be. Even the keenest of eyes would be hard pressed to distinguish it from the barren landscape- though it was the whole point, it left something to be desired in the mind’s eye. That which he now has the greatest pleasure of beholding.
He stood there, standing on a catwalk above his magnum opus, their gaze affixed to their people. He slowly drew away from his ruminations, and back to the lightless obelisk that demanded his attention.
“I suppose it’s time, then.” He spoke to no-one in particular, an appreciable amount of trepidation in his voice. He felt mortal again, felt like he was back in NASA labs- being on the cusp of a discovery beyond anyone’s ken except his very own. He left Earth better in his passing, he hoped. He may have never revolutionized space travel, never reinvented the wheel, but Donovan walked that final frontier and lived to tell of it. For that he would always hold his head high.
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It was much the same, here, only the scale was… entirely incomparable. What he did today, on Kracht- no, on the undying city he had dubbed Luna, for the first step into what he is now- was going to change the worlds forever.
The obelisk below him almost certainly bore the same qualities as a black hole, absorbing everything that came into contact with it. It was contained, but that would change soon.
If only for the briefest of moments.
For all that he spent favors, money, even dear friendships, in pursuit of this goal, it would take but the smallest moment for what he needed to do to resolve. No, even less than that.
His left hand rested on the handle of a door to the catwalk. Fingers typed angrily away at holographic keyboards in the other room, the intensity and consistency of it sometimes causing the incessant clicking and clacking to join him in bed at night. It felt just like mission control- if they all worshipped the flight director, that is.
He had a lot to live up to, now. But with everything prepared, for all that it cost him, he wasn’t turning back. Never again. He would leave his mark on history.
He took in the vision of his city, and the planet behind it, one last time. Perhaps the very last, depending on how things went. Anything could go wrong. Reality is different than the plans we form in our head.
He quashed those thoughts moments after he thought them.
"If reality diverges from our plans, then... our plans must simply diverge from reality." It was an incredibly ironic thing for him of all people to say, but the sentence resonated with him. He would do anything to accomplish this. No matter what it cost.
He turned the handle of the door and stepped into the control room. With the fervor of a thousand zealots in his heart, he was about to make history.