Genesis - the Battle Within (Pillars of Creation Book 1)

by David Tucker

Genesis remembered seeing the glow for the first time, when he was sitting in the grafting room of his initial nano-infusion – the needle stabbing deep within his spine again and again, over and over, and then even more horrifically as the clamp held him in place and the needles pushed deep into his eyes. This process also allowed his religion to insert the chemicals directly through his optic nerves that would fracture his mind. The glow soon followed, as the religious conscience and entity merged and lashed him into submission as he needed to be. He squirmed now, even though he knew this was just a memory.

  He remembered the process well; his whole body tightening at the thought of such pain. The religion had its new personality reshape him to help convert him fully. It was there to protect him, to instruct and guide him and ultimately shepherd him through the dark and nasty times – making him able to deal with his actions when his religion needed to act out its discipline on humanity to lovingly guide them. That is what they told him anyhow … in reality, it was there to protect them.

  Genesis remembered a conversation he once had with his lost Master on this topic, and the doubt his Master had created “Is my religious personality really just for these reasons? Or is it to control me and ultimately the humans and stop their judiciary tools ever turning their backs on the one true religion and beliefs?”

  The conversation flooded back to him without losing any of its clarity, causing Genesis to pause in mid crawl. Much had been done to make him this … this heralded being for humanity … but in the process hadn’t he lost his own humanity?

  No … no matter, it was thanks to his Master’s strengthening and healing techniques, developed from his many years of injury and tutelage, that he’d come through the painful and excruciatingly long process of joining the Order. Despite Zeal’s many odd questions and teachings, the Genesis of today had finally been forged from the bleak quagmire of his past and become an Immortal Wielder of the faith. Tempered through meticulous and intense training into this deadly class of Immortal on the one hand, and the shepherd on the other, Genesis was aware that both personalities were one in this thinking.

  As Zeal had foretold, a Wielder was what he was apparently destined to become and was where Zeal had said his talents had led him to be. If not for his religion, then for the honour of his Master, Genesis had vowed to keep his promise and allow his sculpting into this class, even after his original Master had gone.

  Genesis remembered the first time he awoke and had to come good on this promise, almost two and a half decades later, when he was frozen for the final stages of his reconditioning process. He’d awoken from his procedure seemingly in the blink of an eye, but his Master was long gone, and he was alone as he’d looked down, head, muscles and eyes not feeling like they’d ever recover as he perceived the transformation. He wore the same suit now, which, as long as he survived, would forever remain with him. He also remembered screaming at the shock and pain of being frozen, in time and animation, for the better part of a natural human’s life.

  As dictated by his Immortal Wielder class, his armour was much more advanced than when he was a mere mortal. It had been combined with his own natural talents, entwining itself into his own personality and adapting into the very core of his soul, his molecules, his DNA and the fabric of his mind, consciousness and eternal soul.

  This armour was fundamentally the same as every other Immortal Wielder’s, but both unlike the others and strangely, like the others, it strengthened what was already strong and moulded around his talents to individualise itself and become unique to him. This gave each Wielder individual strengths. Zeal had also argued it gave each Immortal their own weaknesses, but this knowledge was of little use, he’d concluded at the time. And against the Elder’s teachings.

  His mind peeled away as his second personality got back to shuffling him through the vents. But he continued his thinking.

  His armour was mostly known for its uncanny stealth. Even in its regular melee mode it was blurred at its edges and hard to see. Genesis had noticed since he’d had his armour, that it had even seemed to adopt his talents; as the Elders had explained, the Rieft emanated from an Immortal’s energies, poured through the nano-infusion of their co-existence, and picked up on its host as the advanced living armour evolved, seeping the nuances into its core bio-organic programming.

  Genesis knew his nanos – which made up the armour and were controlled through his Rieft talent – were imprinted with his own personality. During their union his armour had become fast like him, and adapted itself to his deadly strikes and unusual skill for warping into shadows and using deception as an ally – which it did scarily well.

  His armour also, as was its primary function, allowed him to flirt with both gravity and time, and repair from almost any grievous harm; it was, all-in-all, a fitting husk for his inhuman body to reside within – his new sanction above humanity.

  Genesis almost smiled as he gazed upon the black sleek covering again. This Apocalypse Mk 6 body armour was the height of engineering, physics, science and biology, and it was now completely at his beck and call, something that he’d worked hard to obtain. Many in his religion coveted the idea of one day wearing such a skin, so he guessed he should be grateful, even though the sacrifice was so high. He wondered though, if many would truly covet his place if they knew the truth behind the pain of infusion and loss of connection with his past humanity.

  Beneath his fingertips he brushed over the scar on his chest. Genesis felt the absence of his regular heartbeat and, even though he was only half thinking about it, he was distantly aware of the difference and loss. His second skin, or exoskeleton as the faith explained it, was powered on a battery powerful enough to rival a tactical nuke if detonated and this was the source of their greatest sacrifice of all; Genesis absently dropped his hand as he simultaneously sprang up some facing columns of wiring. I don’t even have a heart anymore; the most connected part of a human’s proof of life was missing from the Immortals. The massive power source of the ion battery replaced one of the most vital organs inside a man’s flesh, and ironically the key to his and all other Immortal’s immortality.

  He paused as he parted his armour and ran a finger over the raised line of flesh, a permanent scar, a reminder of his lost connection and human life. The intense and dangerous procedure of infusing his heart with the ionised mitochondria – self-contained organelles which lived inside all human’s cells – was irreversible. They now housed the Immortal’s pre-programmed army of genomes and shield casings for the specialised and individual system of nanoids that replaced his heart’s biofeedback signature.

  An Immortal’s heart was reshaped this way to fuse with their suit’s ion-core, giving them control over the Rieft and maintaining their life force. It tampered with DNA and relocated molecules, conducting them into a collision of electrons and atoms through an internal wellspring of ionic energy throughout the entire bloodstream – a power which enhanced not only physical bodies but their Rieft senses as well. In extreme circumstances it can even saturate your physical exterior, capable of turning even the highest calibre bullets in the heat of battle, his second personality added.

  Genesis dropped his hand back to his side as he eased onto the next level, trying hard to forget the terrible procedure of the process, and slightly aggravated at his second personality’s input. Yet this attribute, he remembered, wasn’t the end of his suffering. The things the Immortals were forced to undergo went far further than just that.

  Genesis felt his mind lingering, but was allowed no more time to dwell on it as he hoisted himself over a rise and slid along a longer section of the vent. Sensing his goal nearing, his second personality pushed him into submission, and Me’lina cut through his thoughts.

  “Genesis we have arrived, we are now directly above the bridge.”

  Genesis blinked, refocusing on the task at hand, surprised to have arrived so abruptly. Twenty-nine minutes had passed since he’d left Delta 1’s position. He’d made better time than he thought
, and his reflections had made the lonely time feel shorter.

  He eased around the final bend and looked for the ventilation grate that fed the precious oxygen into each room in Class 2 frigates. Just a few metres ahead he could see light filtering through the grate he was looking for. It was illuminated by bright flashing lights on the top of the ventilation shaft, signifying he was definitely above the bridge.

  Good, I’ve made it without alerting anyone, he thought, pleased. He mentally checked that his armour was in full stealth mode, and noticed the refracted light particles around him as he crept forward, careful not to make any sound at all. A barely audible voice floated up as he heard commotion coming through the grate.

  Before he could get close enough to hear it he spotted a squad of Skinks sweeping the bridge, searching every shadow. He froze, waiting for them to pass. He slid his blade out, careful not to scrape it along the vent. A swarm of nanos, mentally controlled, reassembled into Katana, his Sacred blade. As the nanos making up his armour pushed her out from within his flesh it reminded him that these nanos were more than just religiously sanctioned machines within him. They could be retracted in and out, within his skin and organs, or manipulated into physical form, laying inside the housing units of his spine and back and throughout his entire body.

  He forced them into his sixth sense, subconsciously forecasting into the future for a brief few seconds. This ability, activated only by adrenalin, allowed him to predict ahead in moments of intensity, aiding him and his brothers since forever – an evolution for the protection and enhancement of their kind. His vision showed him he was going to have to stay put as the Skinks ran scanners towards the vent’s opening and hovered there taking measurements. His AI masked his presence as he indulged his vision’s sense of danger, and he sat back on his haunches.

  Genesis, unbecomingly, felt a pang of longing as he perceived this vision; it was not his strongest ability, so again he would be forced to rely on his cunning and raw physical ability. Zeal had made sure of this development also, to counter his weakness. His Master had set traps and training exercises that if not met with acutely minute observation and blinding speed, would have resulted in serious injury.

  He flinched even now and gave another shiver as he remembered the more drastic of his Master’s designs; where ion blasts or laser-sealed blades came hurtling towards him from all angles. Genesis purposefully shifted his mind from the terrifying precision and art his Master had for such machinations.

  While he waited he tried to ease his tension as the squad, now just metres below him, continued to try and make sense of their scanners. He concentrated back on his most Sacred and important asset of all. His final gift was a Wielder’s most guarded and yet most powerful. They were all equipped with their own ceremonial and sanctimonious weapons, which were of the highest priority to their class and religion.

  They weren’t just well-constructed weaponry, they were on a level far, far beyond that. Through unprecedented trial and tribulation and ancient customs, they were given form from raw nano-material into a Wielder’s primary combat strategy and religious symbol. A personified design individualised for each Immortal’s path and protection, finally dipped in the Mouziz stone to give each chosen Wielder the power of judicator and righteousness of the Creator’s path. Not too much unlike the uniqueness of their armour.

  Genesis abruptly felt his own weapon’s molecular structure drawing closer together, feeling an itch from his thoughts about her – his weapon, Katana, was his power’s curator and personification, and even now he felt her getting ready in case the Skink’s bellow discovered him. She was forged in his Wielder trial ceremonies in the Temple of the Sacred, and she was his final test before becoming a Weapon’s Wielder Immortal. From nano-steel particles he manipulated her into existence, based on the one weapon he was bested with in his own trial. And although causing great controversy, the weapon was his Master’s old sword, as somehow Genesis had fought his entire trial with just the one blade, and survived.

  After almost losing his right to re-forge the blade when the Elders realised whose sword it was, Genesis had proven that he could wield the blade with proficiency and, mainly due to tradition, was allowed to take it as his own, dipping it within the Mouziz Stone. Some had said the residual powers of his Master lay within the sword and that was the only reason he had been able to manipulate the blade and re-forge her so aptly. Yet despite the protests, eventually all quietened at the commands of the Elders, and after re-forging Katana in the final process of his trial, she was finally bonded to his own soul and Rieft talent.

  Later, like all others, she went through developments to become laser sealed and enabled to channel his psychic saturation, from his core power, emanating through his Rieft. In memory of his Master, Genesis had kept the name simply as the sword’s own design, Katana, which, although simple, seemed a fitting name for her agile and appeasing form. She was already known to their world before, and now due to his Master’s gift would remain known for even longer.

  Those unlucky enough to see her amazing talents and lived to tell the tale were few, but still her name and legend was widely feared far across Terithian space. Genesis had to go through even more intense years of training with his Sacred weapon, and as was commanded he now had Katana on him at all times. This Sacred appendage, as with all Immortal Wielders, represented more than just a blade; it was an apotheosis, representing all the power and strength of each follower of the path – a glimmer of hope to the oppressed, beacon and reminder of the honourable and reminder to give ear to the one true religion.

  Genesis failed to block out his replacement mentor’s quoted voice, drummed into him from the Sacred Texts. The voice of Osiris shot through his head before he could stop it.

  Although your weapons are of significant power my child – within your Sacred procurement each Immortal’s individualised power is flowing and should it be destroyed or lost, so shall all that is of that Immortal.

  These words triggered the memory of his own ceremony from just over seventy years ago, which had been the last time he’d seen his true mentor, and the reason Osiris had taken him on.

  Genesis remembered developing and forming Katana after the battle with his fellow Immortals. Breaking her down and then re-forging her through his own psychic abilities, manipulating her from a particle-based compound through the precise control of his nanos and finally into his Sacred weapon. And then from this early re-construction, Katana was eventually moulded back through the Mouziz Stone and into his own DNA, Rieft and body.

  He could still feel her, just as when his Master had placed her in his hands, like a living breathing thing residing within him. He could feel the evil she had vanquished and the long history of her past – and even more than that, a living extension of his own body and lively reminder of who else had once gripped her agile form; his Sovereign, Zeal, who’d disappeared that very same day. Genesis never got to thank him for his gift, or curse him either, for leaving and abandoning him—

  The troops, scanning the vent, lifted the scanner higher as Me’lina worked hard to give conflicting signals to the device. Unable to help, Genesis went back to his thoughts as he regulated his breathing to a level undetectable.

  For his bond to be complete with his Master’s blade, not only did he have to learn how to construct Katana as his Sacred weapon, but he also needed to be able to deconstruct her, back to within his armies of nano-swarms, within his own body.

  Once an Immortal learned the skills of manipulation and deconstruction, their weapon was always with them, on them and within them, the most paramount trial of becoming a Wielder, even above their armour infusion.

  When the attributed Immortal was able to dissect their Sacred weapon into particles and spread it back within the compound that made them up, only then were they given the title of Weapon’s Wielder. Yet even more importantly for each Wielder it meant an Immortal’s Sacred weapon could be transported in or out of their own flesh and Apocalypse armour, and
quite literally allow them at all times to carry these exalted items. Forever they were one, just like their armour and religious mind. After mastering this, each Wielder Immortal could summon these embodiments of strength from within their own living flesh and recall it back at any given time, almost as though they were materialising their weapons from flesh and bone, all done in the blink of an eye; thus the fitting tools for reigning judgment to the apostasy or protection from the heretics in times of endangerment.

  Genesis frowned thoughtfully as he felt Me’lina blocking even more scans. Unfortunately, this manipulation ability, as it was so aptly called, was again not his strongest quality. He could only disperse his blade into the right arm of his Apocalypse armour, leaving his whole right arm the same silver colour as the billions of particles made up by his blade, unless of course, he was in full stealth mode where Me’lina took the liberty of redirecting a small amount of his nanos to cover the area. This usually, however, brought too much complaint from her apparently overworked systems.

  Although he was perceived as weak in this area, Genesis took comfort in his adoption of a trait from his former Master that gave him a strange side effect. Not only could he manipulate his Sacred weapon but it seemed he had also worked out a way to manipulate two of his other weapons. His pistols could both be manipulated through his nanos, and Genesis had developed enough affiliation with the foreign compounds to summon them, as he would his blade. But the pistols, unlike his primary weapon, still needed to reside within their holsters, not in his living flesh and armour. They were not of a Sacred nature and were forbidden to enter his body.

  Genesis shifted both pistols into his hands and pressed their muzzles against the steel vent, he sensed the scan was taking too long. Just in case they were readying to raise the alarm he thumbed back the hammers, aimed for the Skink’s heads, and readied to fire.

  Only when an Immortal had this construction and de-construction ability of their Sacred weapon, could he be eligible for a place amongst the Way of the Sacred – the path a Wielder took to becoming a Divine. The commandments were quite strict on this achievement, and Genesis could remember the exact quoted chapters from the Sacred Texts explaining the final test of weapon manipulation training, and one of his kinds most relevant paradigms. The words of Osiris again flooded forth in his exact and polished tones before he could stop them: