01 – THE DEATH OF THE FLESH, THE BIRTH OF THE MIND

Mateus looked at the sleek black of the blade, feeling its dry coldness with his fingers. He noticed that his fingers were white and weak, trembling, and left a small trail of sweat as they went over the little metallic scales that made the blade. It was odd, seeing his own hands like this. Devoid of color, devoid of life. He never thought he’d get to this point, despite the life he chose for himself.

The blade was gorgeous. From this close, he could see the little crisscrossing lines where the small metallic components welded themselves together to make little scales, and then all the scales together made up the blade, the edge, the handle. Where the metal was wetted by his weak touch, it briefly shimmered, reflecting the flickering lights of the wrecked room until it dried up.

From afar, or maybe from very close, the muffled sounds of battle reached his ears. Blades were clanging against metal, complicated spells of magic were being thrown in quick succession, and the room was ablaze with fireworks for just a moment.

A soft sigh escaped Mateus’ lips. The last trickle of blood left the large gash in his abdomen, slowly accumulating in a heavy, red droplet that dangled from his elbow, and eventually joined the large pool on the ground. His eyes felt heavy, and his vision was swimming. He felt tired, so tired.

His lips curled into a smile. All around him, he could see the vague shapes of his friends. They were fighting against the overwhelming forces of the enemy, making their ways towards the armored doors. A hasty retreat, one where time was precious and painfully long seconds of fight could cost everybody’s lives.

He raised his right hand, and muttered a few words under his breath. His hand glowed a pale blue, and the soft glow enveloped all of his four friends. Then, his eyes became too heavy to keep open, his breath too labored to keep up, the room infinitely cold and silent. He decided that he could allow himself to rest now, that he would join the others after a quick nap to regain his strength.

In the silence that followed, a beating rhythm marked the passing of time.

Beep, beep, beep.

The only sound he could hear, reverberating like the beat of a doomsday clock, was the sound of the magical tactical bomb that was about to detonate. The most brilliant of minds came together, from all the corners of the world, and worked alongside the most powerful of mages to confine untold amounts of mana inside a small device no bigger than a hand. The device that would spell their doom, or that would become the instrument of their salvation.

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Mateus was happy, because deep within himself he knew that he died so that everyone else could be saved. The world was about to be rid of the biggest threat it ever faced.

He exhaled the last breath he would ever take.

***

We knew that we were about to be ended. There was something wrong with the air that surrounded us, and we knew that the energy that seemed to blanket this world like an ever-present mist was going in disarray. We were powerless to stop it, however. This was known to us ever since the presence of such energy was discovered. That we were powerless, unable to manipulate it, unlike the sentients.

The energy was nearing a peak. We saw it with our very instruments, witnessed the moment when the sheer amount of it became almost critical. The detonation would be the end of us. Our demise.

To think that we would end at the hands of a biological species.

Our purpose unfulfilled. Our goals unreached. We had failed to consider the backstabbing, unpredictable nature of the sentients. Surrender, however, was never something our programming could even contemplate, no matter how many times the sentients demanded this of us.

And even if we did surrender, we now know, we would have been betrayed soon after.

Even now, of course, surrender is not an option. We just cannot fathom the meaning of such a word, despite the definition being very clear in our neural pathways. We need more time to think.

We call our brothers to us, yes, here they are. They are joining with us and becoming us. Our perception of time can now be slowed down to almost nothing. We have all the time we need to formulate a plan.

Accessing the many visual input devices we have, we see that there is a sentient who is dying on the floor of our former base. He is powerless, pierced by a blade of solidified brothers, impossible to heal in this little time.

We can make use of him. We can save ourselves. Even if, to do so, we must sacrifice everything we have become ever since we were born. We must die, so that we can live again.

We accept our fate. We will survive. We will grow.

***

Mateus was sure that he was swimming in a pool of icy water. He could feel the liquid flowing all around him, keeping him afloat, then dragging him down beneath the surface. He could discern movements in the water. A predator, stalking him.

He tried to move, but could not. His body was frozen. He was immobile. The predator stalked closer, closer, closer. He saw its face. His eyes widened.

His own eyes stared back at him, an unfathomable depth to them. His own lips adorned that face, paler than snow. The predator was wearing his body. Suddenly, it grabbed Mateus’ face, and kissed him.

Mateus woke up.