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The Last Nukyi: Fear Cosmic Annihilation

Page 43

by Paul Bagnell


  *****

  As Tom slept, the mind-crash swallowed him into a state of infinity where he was activated by beyond forces. He felt his body falling into an endless void of darkness while an array of colourful lights swirled about him like whips of enchanted energy, like protective tentacles that saved him from the ungodly depths below. He gasped for air, his heart pounded, and he was sweating profusely.

  The beams of light wove together and formed a humanlike entity that was translucent and magnificently glowing. It seemed overly curious as if it were studying its subject.

  “You are our champion,” the entity said.

  Tom tried to focus his tiresome eyes; his vision seemed blurred as if he were drunk.

  “Your skills have been tested. Each time you have successfully proven to be the most worthy of all the battle challengers.” The sound of its voice was mixed with other voices of unknown origins.

  Tom reached out to touch the energy field, but his hand passed through it. “What do you mean challengers?”

  “Many valiant soldiers of time have challenged the forces of evil, and many before you have lost,” it admitted. “The power for ultimate supremacy is now being challenged by Ferronkus, Lord of Figure. You must stop his bid to unleash Hot War. If you fail, there will be no future, and all will be captured.

  “Exsorbo has toughened you well, and we have great faith in your great abilities. Use them. They will grow stronger. Believe as we believe, and you shall succeed.”

  “What must I do?” Tom asked in a reserved tone.

  “All will be revealed in time. Since time is an unknown variable, we will be there when that time arises,” it revealed before it faded away.

  Tom awoke as if he were returning from the unholy dead. His hands were closed tight, the blood was restricted to his fingers, and his knuckles were pressed white. This dream wasn’t like the others. Neither Exsorbo nor Ferronkus had been in it, and this made him feel mentally unhitched.

  The clock over the television indicated it was 6:15 p.m. It was getting late. Tom changed into jeans, a fresh T-shirt, laced on his hiking boots; and stuffed the gun into his leather jacket. He could still hear the entity’s voice in his mind-–‘If you fail, there will be no future.’ He didn’t care; he didn’t have much of a future anyway, but he would try his best.

  Something was going to happen; he could feel a madness burning in his gut, and it made him very anxious.

 

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