“The automatons serve us well, my Lord.” A deep voice bellows towards an obscured entity. The seven-foot-tall man from which it came inches closer before kneeling.
His massive knees and indomitable frame instill a shock into the floor as he does so. He looked down at the steel floor, continuing to speak. “The sheep know not what ails them; they are as complacent and complicit as ever.”
The monstrous beast of a man hears movement to his front; faint and obscured by the howling winds outside and the electrical whirs of this intrepid throne room. He looks up, to see the entity to which he spoke is no longer there.
“My lord?” He asks, mild surprise present in his bassy voice.
He feels a titanic hand placed upon his shoulder from behind, the palm covering his entire right arm.
“Rise, Cerberus.” The entity commands, its voice almost inaudibly deep.
Obeying, Cerberus rose. He turns to look behind, seeing his God-Master over towering over twice his height. The daunting presence of his master never fails to chill his spine.
Cerberus faces his master fully, looking up toward him as he speaks.
His master, the entity, replies; taking silent paces towards the leather and ebony throne. The room dimmed as he spoke.
“I heard. This is good news.” He stops just before the throne, turning back to Cerberus. “And the… regulatory agencies? The election?”
Cerberus replies swiftly.
“Of course, my lord. They serve your interests to a tee.”
His master pauses, his perfect face shaded in long arcs by his long-brimmed hat.
“Good. Very good. Maintaining the illusion I’m sure.”
Cerberus nods in agreement.
His master gestures towards the balcony through which the winds roar. Torrential rain poured into the room through the musky open doorway; the deep maroon clouds stretching for as far as the eye can see, and even further beyond.
“Join me outside for a moment, you and I must discuss something.”
The entity orders Cerberus, who swiftly makes his way into the rain, the floor reverberating under his foot.
Outside, he rests his steely cybernetics onto the galvanized railings— his red, laser-esque eyes searching out over the dark, neon abyss.
Over top of all the buildings, and all the black carrion towers of excess.
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His master joins him in silent admiration of the smog-ridden cityscape. Lightning strikes one of the many power rods placed about the city tops which summon the inclement weather.
His master speaks, his voice slamming through the torrents.
“There was once a time where the rain wasn’t constant. Where the sun shone bright during the daytime.”
Cerberus inquires, confused; his cybernetic eyes gazing into the depths. “The sun? The object in fiction?”
His master replies, solemnly. “Yes. From a time where life inspired fiction. Not the other way around.”
“I don’t understand.” Cerberus admits, turning to question. “What is the point of this? I have told you all that I've been summoned for?”
His master answers, his perfect face now drenched. Yet his monolithic greatcoat remains bone dry.
“You have made a mistake. Thus, you must be taught. I give you levity, due no less to your blinded inexperience.”
“Then please tell me, my Lord. I will understand.” Cerberus claims, looking forward.
"You will understand, only because I allow you." The God-Man replies, turning his head to watch the lightning strike a faraway building, far, far below them.
“SERaMACs. Auto-Transportation. The Pleasure Commission. Such tools have enabled my stewardship. I was compelled to rid the world of the sun, and now, those of your birth wave are none the wiser.”
A growing unease leaks into the thin atmosphere.
“I fail to see what this teaches me.” Cerberus confesses; facing his full attention towards the towering titan he calls Lord.
His master looks down, expressionless yet tempered.
“I control the weather, Cerberus. I control the narcosis of this society.”
The God-Man takes a knee, grabbing Cerberus's torso and tearing him closer. His breaths create vacuums; Cerberus struggles to breathe in combination with his grip.
“I control the direction of the media incarnate. Most importantly… I command what is true, and what is false.”
His master looks away for a moment, pressing a blue button embedded in his neck; staring dead into Cerberus’s soul as his voice is brought a pitch lower, louder, and deadlier.
“And so, if you fail to address me by my full name… I will not hesitate to choke the life out of you.”
The God-Man’s voice pierces. Cerberus's body remained frozen as his master tightens his grip. All is silent as another lightning strike deafens the environment momentarily.
“And so, Cerberus… correct your mistake. Say my name.” The God-Man ordered.
“G… Gau— Gauth Van Hulsieg, my lord…” Cerberus stutters.
He releases the cyborg and stands tall; towering over the seven-foot tall superhuman with a gaze of absolution.
“Very good. Now get out of my sight and ensure that there is no dissonance among those elected.”
Cerberus stands at a shaken attention for his master, not that he dared to show his weakness in front of him.
He acknowledges his lord’s command as he leaves for the staircase below.
“As you command… Gauth Van Hulsieg. I promise, it shall be done.”
Welcome to FUTURE GENESIS 2084: A cyber-gothic dystopia opera.
This is an original work. This story WILL NOT be abandoned, and WILL be completed by the 99th chapter.
This is not a passive story. It requires active reader engagement. It doesn't spoon-fed, or hold your hand all that often--- it is far from typical modern "slop". (Just a common complaint I see of modern literature, no offense meant.)
Consider this as both an invitation, and fair warning. There is a high change this story may not be for you, but for those who enjoy the mystery, drama, or the journey a story takes you on... I believe you have come to the right place.
I hope you enjoy.
