Episode I: Mezzanine/Angel/Part II: Exchange
A three-year reunion in the middle of a declared mutated area zone… how quaint, like the human race. I do not understand why the Machine-Emperor prolonged his gaze and kept his silence to my Master across the plague-ridden landscape with it’s forests and mountains divided by a desert, watching the ash-borne swarmbirds swirling in a confused mass in the center of the gathered Avatars, swaying in the wind. Watching them all get tangled, like we are now with our lack of communication.
“This is what we wanted to show you here, the change brought upon the wildlife, now influenced by human feelings and ways, like how we are now after all these years, unable to talk to each other in a straightforward manner.” Humans and the way they feel, their emotions, how… difficult it must be for them. I simply feel nothing, nothing for myself and nothing for them. This is getting nowhere. My Master’s face was blank, composed, his Avatar, a chimeric combination of creatures with arms, legs, claws and hooves forcibily twisted into the shape of an arachnid with many heads that was occupied by a varying number of eyes, noses, ears and mouths or none at all was unmoving, being just as composed as he.
“I left for my own reasons, unlike the last of us who had to leave because of you and your all-too-machine way-” The holographic mask in front of the blank ovoid of face contorted into slight annoyance fluidly from what I can see of my Master’s features. He was motioned for silence, but that is not enough to stop him.
“Oh really? and this little leaving of yours was when was it? Oh yes, in the middle of the war you disappeared.” The Master never told me of this… Was it because of cowardice, or something else which is not of my business?
“I am sure our own Ghayth, or should I say… Erasmus Davidson has his reasons.” Master has however mentioned the one who interjected then. The name of this nasal voiced Master is Master skoll, Successor Holder to the Ruby Pillar, who was onboard his own red rhinoceros beetle shaped Avatar, Montag. They have not diverted their attention to me during their bickering. I thought my Master was better than this, but apparently not, unless he improves on himself.
“Of which I will not disclose.” The tone of my Master’s voice was final, no one dared to say anything else, and the Emperor himself occupied himself by looking at the altered surroundings of partly desert island formation and finally settled on me. Knowing how curious His Knowledge can be, I had a bad feeling about this.