Pathetic! These people worshiping one thing after another is beginning to get on my nerves...

Allow me to explain myself, I am Absolute. I have been referred to as many things, innumerable things in fact. I have been named in languages I cannot speak, and mindsets I cannot understand. Even everything has Its personal limits. It is not so much that I am referred to Yggdrasil one day and Deus the next, and Zeus in between and all around, but that people cannot seem to let people have their own beliefs, they must denounce me for the sake of me! They cannot leave alone the fact that people can have different interpretations of me, they have to make everyone follow their own version of me.

This is a story of god. Not in the way the Qu'ran or the Bible are, but it is a story of god nonetheless. It is a story of how I began, and how I will end, and how I will begin.

Before I continue with my story, allow me to make it clear that I am not a god. I am the closest thing. All I am is the essence of all. All I am is the essence of nothing. All I am is nothing.

It all began as it never began, in the year of never, in the location of nowhere, and the substance of everything. Time, you see, is timeless, and with it so am I. My downfall is my creation and my creation is my downfall. When matter was created, I was timeless. Moreover, when I was created, I was timeless. I have spread amongst the infinite multiple instances of life, but the most troublesome by far has been earth. It was all wonderful until you silly humans evolved. You, with your idea of the finite being able to conceive of the infinite.

I must admit that at first, I was quite flattered. But as time drew on, I became more and more disgusted, not because you humans are grotesque by nature, far from it in fact, but because in your attempts to be open-minded, you close your mind to others doing the same. Whole civilizations have been destroyed because of this, and, as tired as I grow of it, I can do nothing. I can do nothing because I am everything, as much as I hate some parts of Myself, I am incapable of destroying them.

With that brief summary we are brought to the present, It is the year 2256 by your standards, and even after two thousand and some-odd years of your current society, you still haven't found a way to make peace with one another. I will not deny it, there is no hope for your world. You destroyed it long ago, and you all know that well. The two powers on planet earth are still clashing together for domination over your tiny and unfortunate sphere. You who have found ways of living on your own sun, and have the means to do so are still fighting over what the enemy owns, regardless of the amount of surface area of your sun. Liberus in the southern half, Notus in the north. Your sphere is so polluted you can barely breathe, and so overcrowded you can barely move but still you forge onward. I am almost willing to simply end it now, to allow you to fade, but instead I wish to give you a chance to have things your way, to see how things turn out. I am Plius, I am Liberus.


March 23rd, 2256 CE

Dearest Diary,

Today I awoke feeling significantly different. I do not know how to explain this difference without paradox, but I will try: I feel like everything. It is as if, overnight, I became everything. Not just Liberus, or even the whole world for that matter, but I now feel as though my existence is intwined with all else. I have a desire to spread this realization that all is one and all is nothing.

In other news, I was informed by my advisor that Notus has begun building weapons on the sun. The prospect of this is quite frightening, they are harnessing almost unlimited power to destroy us. Our lunar colonies are only capable of manufacturing a small percentile of what they may now be able to produce, and at an almost infantile proportion of power. As this nation's leader, I see only one choice: invade the sun. Not so that we ourselves may create weapons to attack Notus, as I have realized that will not be the way to solve this war, but to keep them from following through with this mass murder. After such a realization as I had last night, I have no further desire to harm another being, sentient or not. I realize now that the best course of action is to reconcile. To cap the expanding power of Notus with minimal casualties, and then arrange a peace.

Signed,

Plius Inotam, Cingularity of Liberus


March 24th, 2256 CE

Dearest Diary,

With our Invasion of the sun commencing, there is little time for me to do much else. I delivered a very hasty speech to the public explaining our plan, and then turned preparations to General Tylemonn while I dealt with the ever-critical press. Just the other day, the people of my nation were hounding us for all-out war, but now that I have heeded their wishes, they complain of the potential expense of this war. If only they realized that things more important than mere currency troubled our nation...

Signed,

Plius Inotam, Cingularity of Liberus


March 26th, 2256 CE

Dearest Diary,

Our invasion is going terribly. Yesterday morning I was informed that our intelligence was too late, and that Notus' weapons had already been developed. Our troop losses were significantly crippling at best. They have developed a new battery that is charged through the fusion underneath them, meaning that their power is unlimited, they have begun to use this energy to manufacture projectiles that can pierce our solar armor. As lasers came and went rather quickly thanks to our innovation, we quickly returned to bullets as our ancestors used centuries ago. We thought our solar armor capable of stopping anything harness-able, what we did not count on what was not. The energy from the batteries can be generated into force powerful enough to launch those bullets through our solar armor. On top of that, they have developed a new cannon that fires the equivalent of a solar flare from its barrel. While It may not be projectile, the raw energy is nearly insurmountable. But that in and of itself is not the issue. Once pierced, our troops have no defense against the raw energy that the sun gives off and are entirely evaporated no matter where they are hit.

Despite all this bad news, we have managed to secure one of these manufacturing plants through heavy casualties, and are working on creating these weapons for ourselves. Not only are we creating weapons, but our scientists have presented the idea to apply the solar batteries to our armor, generating the force from them into stopping those bullets.

Developments are going well, but our morale is low. As I am writing this I am on a passage to the sun in an attempt to boost our troops' resolve for the better.

Signed,

Plius Inotam


As the human leader closed his diary and lay down to rest, our consciousnesses separated, or at least his did from mine. I then shifted my attention towards the sun, to perhaps affect the troops through a more direct form of inspiration.


Saalmarnez Kaine awoke the next morning , if there is such a thing, on the Notian solar base and manufacturing plant K14 desiring no more part in this killing. This was an understandable emotion, and one that he shared with his comrades, however His sentiments were not for the same reason. His comrades were afraid for themselves, as they should be. Afraid that they, too would die such an unpleasant death. Saalmarnez Kaine felt no fear for his own life anymore. He had realized that his life was all life, all life was his life, as well as that of all his comrades. Saal, as his friends called him, knew now that he wasn't afraid of death because he didn't know what would come, or thought he knew what would come and had no desire for it. Saal feared death because he now realized that it made no difference. The fact that it made no difference only showed him how fleeting and precious life was. The morning he awoke he could not only feel his own fear, but the fear of all his comrades, and the resolve of his enemies. In essence he was his enemies. And his comrades. He was absoluteness.

As he ate his breakfast, he felt the pain of the breakfast he was eating, but he ate it anyways. He ate because he knew it was inevitable. He would feel the pain of breakfasts throughout existence, as breakfast will, and should always be eaten. Thus he ate and thought about his breakfast. He was his breakfast. His consciousness was everything, and it had all begun that morning.

As Saal ate himself contentedly, his commander, an unpleasant man by the name of Egrius Palk, approached. He was a gargantuan human, if he could be called that. He was the size of a bear and had as much if not more hair. What was not hair was dirt, sweat, and other unpleasant things that accumulate on the body of one who never bathes. Needless to say that despite his new found state of mind, Saal was still intimidated by this man. Commander Palk grasped Saal, a man who was by no means small, by the scruff of his neck and through his yellowed and cracked teeth growled, “Saal, what the bloody h*ll do you think you are doing?!”

To this, Saal replied “Eating my breakfast, sir, just like everybody else,” in a fearful voice that was hard to imagine coming from such a muscular and athletic form as Saal's.

“You mean eating my breakfast, squirt” Commander Palk snarled as he shoved Saal out of the way. As Saal was the most likable, strong, and intelligent of that particular division, the other men viewed Saal as their leader. And Egrius viewed him as a threat. As the age-old japanese saying goes, the nail that sticks out most gets hammered down.

There should be no need to explain that the breakfast was in fact Saal's, and Egrius was simply being cruel. Regardless of how right or wrong that is, the fact remained simple, Saal would spend the rest of the day hungry until supper. It isn't so bad Saal thought to everything. At least I won't be as hungry as some other parts of myself. As Saal sat there trying to, and succeeding in cheering himself up, His comrades approached him from behind.

The most slender one, and Saal's closest friend, Artyr Suleivan, said to him; “Cheer up Saal, Egrius only picks on you because he's afraid!”

Saal sighed to himself and said jokingly to his friends, “If he does it out of fear, why doesn't he go steal the general's breakfast? Or even better, the Notians'.” which was responded to by reassuring laughter.

“Well Saal,” said another “Seein' as the rotten Egg-rius is always pickin' on you, we thought we might save up somethin' for you to eat from leftovers.” as he said this, he presented a particularly massive bowl of oatmeal for their friend to eat.

Saal expected as much, after all, he was them as well. “No, you guys eat, you'll need the strength for tomorrow, I can scavenge in the kitchens, the chefs'll understand.”

As he got up to go to the kitchen, an alarm sounded; the base was under attack!

Just moments later, a scientist rushed in from the field lab declaring that the new weapons and armor had been developed and required a tester. Seeing as this would most likely be the only garunteed way for anyone to live, the boisterous soldiers began to fighting over who would get to wear the armor. The only one who wasn't was Saal, who indifferently continued on his way to the kitchen.

Saal, being the only one not fighting, was the nail that stuck out, the armor: the hammer, and the scientist: the carpenter. He was chosen and donned the new armor. While there normally would have been some complaining from the less fortunate soldiers, there was no time as a metallic screeching noise pierced the mess hall. The Notians were drilling into the base.


On the battlefield, the first thing Saal heard was the scream of a man being incinerated, the bullets had pierced his armor. Saal felt his pain. Saal felt the triumph of his killer. But most of all, Saal felt his own rage, more than his connection to everything. That Notian had killed another thing. That was inexcusable. Inexcusable enough that his death would not even be a death to Saal. Whoever felt he had the right to take another life for no good reason had no right to their own. Saal, the executioner, ended him swiftly.

Upon seeing their comrade cut down by what they had considered dirt, the Notian task force opened fire. Saal's prototype armor didn't sustain a scratch. They met death at the hands of Saal's weapon, a weapon that he himself had taken from the charred remains of the enemy. Saal was no longer a voice of reason. He was life's primal instinct risen up to do one thing. Destroy.

The befuddled Notian reinforcements poured in. It was only a stroke of luck to them. A solar flare must have risen up beneath those troops, that's all. It may very well have been. They too were cut down. Their lives ending in no more than a flash and a burning sensation. They died to fuel the rage of Saal.

The next wave's commander didn't believe in luck. He knew Saal. He was Egrius, a turncoat. He believed that Saal was nothing more than a wasp. Poisonous, but annoying at worst. Egrius ordered his men to flank Saal in a pincer movement, with a wall of war machinery up front, laying down explosive fire. Saal only barely avoided the power equivalent of a solar flare fired from the machinery. He didn't want to take any chances. He pulled the trigger of his weapon, aimed at Egrius, only to realize that his ammunition had depleted. The cannons readied themselves once again. They fired. Artyr 's life ended in place of Saal's.

The picture of sheer fury, Saal rushed one of the cannons. He leapt nanoseconds before it discharged, and he landed on top of the barrel. He rushed up the barrel towards the gunner and broke his neck with his bare hands. Acting quickly, He removed the solar battery from the Gunner's backup weapon and wired it to his own battery on his suit. He calmly placed his hand on the place where the battery had been on the cannon, and the energy emanating from his armor melted the cannon. He then drew a survival knife, also wired to the suit and proceeded to slice through the cannons as if they were butter. Moving quickly through their ranks, Saal decimated the remainder of the task force in the very manner he used to deal with the cannons. The attack was repelled.

Saal returned to his bunk, too exhausted to receive the praise from his friends, and fell into a deep sleep.



April 13th, 2256 CE

Dearest Diary,

The tides of the battle have turned with thanks to our scientists' ingenuity! We have now been able to take multiple bases on the sun, including the Notian manufacturing headquarters. I look forward to tomorrow when negotiations will begin to end this war. We have succeeded.

Signed,

Plius Inotam, Cingularity of Liberus




The voice of all spoke. All things fade.

We the hammer, You the nail, all the carpenter.