Wherever the Souls They Go
"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."
--Albert Camus
It was a strange thing. Disturbing, really. He didn't exist anymore, yet here he was in a place where feeling, touch, sound, smell meant absolutely nothing. He didn't count the darkness since it was familiar. It was the darkness he was born into and into which he would remain. This lack of sensation, lack of orientation bothered him.
He had always known that, for his species, once Death came -- if it came -- it was forever. It was Non-Existence. It was to be forgotten, whisked away as if a great hand had wiped away the very ink of his name from some Book of Life. It was a fate all of his kind feared and he had grown to fear it all the more after there was no native land to call home anymore. After all others beyond himself had been thus wiped from existence, as if they all had never been. As if home, as if where he had come from, had never been.
Was this a prelude? Was this what it meant to 'Never Be'?
He didn't know. He thought about that, wondering if indeed he still existed. After all, to exist, one must be self-aware, right? To think, to be self-aware, one must exist. Right?
The circle of reasoning confused him. He drifted in this confusing unknown for a time he couldn't begin to calculate. He tried to pin down the logic of it all -- he had existed. He had traveled. He had been betrayed enough that he knew the concept of trust was now foreign to him.
He had encountered the rise and fall of nations. He had contributed to some of those.
Could it all be erased as if he had never been?
He wondered if Xyvoria's lying queen still had her throne. Or had it back.
He wondered if Sendaria reverted to its primitive ways of slavery.
He wondered if Golden Horn still existed.
He wondered if Evegren was somehow reborn.
The child in him cried out for the voice of his Command. For the Power he so arduously fought to earn. He felt it embrace him, felt the night blue and the fiery gold. And it felt good. Reassuring. It strengthened him to face this anomaly of somehow existing yet not existing.
One.
An echo whispered across this paradox of existence. The creature who resided here sank into the embrace of the deep blue and gold that was the Steel Ranger. The chime of his wristband comforted him.
All. One.
The echo became more persistent. It wafted like a scent upon a wind he couldn't feel. It felt distant, as if he would need to travel many miles to find its source. Renne did not want to leave the blue and gold embrace. He liked it here, where Humans could not confuse him. Where nothing could hurt him anymore. Where he didn't need to care if he was being hunted down for freeing slaves. Where he didn't need to care if anyone had his back. He didn't need to care of any world's failures, triumphs, progressions or fallbacks.
In an instant and an eternity, he found the concept....utterly boring.
All are one. One.
He didn't know where or how to go. The beloved blue and gold wrapped further, more deeply around him, becoming part of him. The chime of his wristband sang a song to him in its signal.
He went toward the call.
"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."
--Albert Camus
It was a strange thing. Disturbing, really. He didn't exist anymore, yet here he was in a place where feeling, touch, sound, smell meant absolutely nothing. He didn't count the darkness since it was familiar. It was the darkness he was born into and into which he would remain. This lack of sensation, lack of orientation bothered him.
He had always known that, for his species, once Death came -- if it came -- it was forever. It was Non-Existence. It was to be forgotten, whisked away as if a great hand had wiped away the very ink of his name from some Book of Life. It was a fate all of his kind feared and he had grown to fear it all the more after there was no native land to call home anymore. After all others beyond himself had been thus wiped from existence, as if they all had never been. As if home, as if where he had come from, had never been.
Was this a prelude? Was this what it meant to 'Never Be'?
He didn't know. He thought about that, wondering if indeed he still existed. After all, to exist, one must be self-aware, right? To think, to be self-aware, one must exist. Right?
The circle of reasoning confused him. He drifted in this confusing unknown for a time he couldn't begin to calculate. He tried to pin down the logic of it all -- he had existed. He had traveled. He had been betrayed enough that he knew the concept of trust was now foreign to him.
He had encountered the rise and fall of nations. He had contributed to some of those.
Could it all be erased as if he had never been?
He wondered if Xyvoria's lying queen still had her throne. Or had it back.
He wondered if Sendaria reverted to its primitive ways of slavery.
He wondered if Golden Horn still existed.
He wondered if Evegren was somehow reborn.
The child in him cried out for the voice of his Command. For the Power he so arduously fought to earn. He felt it embrace him, felt the night blue and the fiery gold. And it felt good. Reassuring. It strengthened him to face this anomaly of somehow existing yet not existing.
One.
An echo whispered across this paradox of existence. The creature who resided here sank into the embrace of the deep blue and gold that was the Steel Ranger. The chime of his wristband comforted him.
All. One.
The echo became more persistent. It wafted like a scent upon a wind he couldn't feel. It felt distant, as if he would need to travel many miles to find its source. Renne did not want to leave the blue and gold embrace. He liked it here, where Humans could not confuse him. Where nothing could hurt him anymore. Where he didn't need to care if he was being hunted down for freeing slaves. Where he didn't need to care if anyone had his back. He didn't need to care of any world's failures, triumphs, progressions or fallbacks.
In an instant and an eternity, he found the concept....utterly boring.
All are one. One.
He didn't know where or how to go. The beloved blue and gold wrapped further, more deeply around him, becoming part of him. The chime of his wristband sang a song to him in its signal.
He went toward the call.