In this scene, Jason Bell is the last human left after a twisted game with a sentient machine who calls himself Q. He is on a walk, forced to do so until he either succeeds in surviving, or fails. The history is that he was apart of a group wanting to sleep for a trip to Alpha Centauri, which takes approx. 30,000 years with current tech. There was a malfunction, however, and at first they thought they had made it.
And walked with him he did, as carefully as he could. Led now only by his instincts and natural feelings, all that was left was the question of his own fate. His heart ached for contentment, or resentment – to which the choice was the individual. But no other individual had caused more emotional reality than that of the hidden machine behind the curtain of clothed man who led him to his death. The land turned into hills, and the hills turned into mountains.
We never really ever left! We sat in those stasis pods for 35,000 years and nothing happened! Not a damn thing! We sat there, and this... monster found us. Gods be damned for this cruel fate!
The greatest deception, built alone by the hopes of those who are confined to their own box of reality, stuck in ignorance and bliss. The same creative part of the brain that constructed art, created reality. And this one was a nightmare.
We really did believe it... even if for only a moment, we believed – a new home...
“Your thoughts scream out from your face. Speak your mind, hach!” the metal man lurched torridly, awaiting the unwise move to be played by this pawn. The Queen and her pawns. His red eyes stared into the soul of the man. He dared to streamline the thought of the lost with the words of a man walking his last days.
He dares use the Hach name!
“Why? Why all of this, you monster! You alone could have taken us to salvation. You could have saved them, you let them die!” Jason looked into the metal man's inexistent soul.
Is it even a machine?
“Those who cannot survive their own home, are not fit to live in it.” Q's eyes shifted, as if scanning for another victim of his twisted games.
“And what about you, metal man? What of your home? Why aren't you there?”
The metal man let out an electric grunt. His eyes seemed to look elsewhere. He stared off into some other reality, some other realization, some other time. He begged for understanding, yet gave none himself. A small sound emanated from inside him. A sound, seemingly deafened by his metallic core.
“This... is my home, hach!”
No... he can't be human. It's impossible!
“You show disbelief. I am not here to make you believe me, but you should be given some moment of honesty before you fail your test.” And with that his metal core – the one that had committed the sin of sound – began to disassemble. Pieces moved in metal-liquid motion, fluid and functional in their design. All this revealed a small pouch, which within resided a small, pale body.
Gods... he's a pre-child!
The body floated among the pouch, in a blue-in-blue liquid. It was not a pre-child form, but it was fully sentient. This was no artificial intelligence, this was the work of evolution's dark, twisted side. It was the side of evolution that leads men back to lizards, only to become more fearsome and formidable than ever before. The pre-child form stared directly at Jason, with eyes that were black within black. It had been human once – a lifetime of lifetimes ago. Jason's thoughts echoed from his brain into his mouth, which distorted into twisted disgust. This pre-child form of human controlled this monstrosity of a machine, and was no longer willing to participate as taskmaster, but now as executioner. They had stopped in the middle of a marsh. There were no other residents among them.
“This game is over, and you have failed, Mr. Bell.” With his revelation, Jason fell to his knees now without a hope or care. It was over, and the odds were not in his favor. He bent his head in acceptance of his fate. This was it, the life among Earth was now that of a distorted pre-child set ready to kill him. It was a fit ending for a man who had cheated his way through the past 35,000 years, and his own lifetime before that. A man who, among his peers was revered, was now nothing in the eyes of this machine man, whose pre-child abomination features seemed to express their own story of pain. Metal arms raised above the now revealed faux head of the metallic beast that plagued humans over and over again. Fates accepted, Jason said his last sigh; words no longer mattered, or even took on any meaning. He closed his eyes, staring hard into the darkness behind his eyelids. He took comfort in being blinded. It was a satisfaction he had learned too late. He let himself fall into his own silence. A slight humming began to overtake him. It grew, more and more. A feeling inside him, as if something unfamiliar was atop him.
“Fang Dusharr, you are hereby ordered to stand-down and release your captive, or you will be executed! You have 5 seconds to comply!” Q quickly turned his head towards the annoying sound. The booming voice came from above. Jason shoved his senses back into reality. It was hard to see with the loud noises pushing his head inwards, but there was no doubting – another machine man, without by any means of disguise. He stood above them on a ledge, aiming a weapon of unusual make. It made a loud humming noise, cackling a the pointed edge with lights and sounds of electric discharge.
“Five!” shouted the other machine man.
Is he too, a pre-child machine abomination?
The captor and captive – the queen and her pawn – looked to the ugly reality that they were no longer alone. Q stood proudly, as Jason no longer could hear, but only watch, he counted to himself within the adrenaline rush of time.
Four..
Q was laughing with a strange expression of gleeful understatement. As if unprovoked, the metallic right hand shouted death, and screamed pain for it's victim, and wrapped around Jason's neck. The moment turned to hours. The hours turned to time unstated, as he laid limp in the hands of a mammoth monster, habited by this abomination of the gods. He felt the electric in the air, and the taste of metal began to overcome him.
Three...
The blue sky turned red, as blood squeezed into his every pore. Pouring his soul onto the ground in a copious amount, he realized his body was being quickly crushed – yet he felt no pain. Perhaps there was no time for pain.
Two... One...
A flash of light filled his vision, and it all went black. His thoughts faded into nothing. Each sense had it's own unique ending. He no longer could see, or hear – but a taste of metal struck him. His felt a loud expression of thunder, and he smelled that of ionized air...
“It's over.” he said, collapsing to the ground. The new machine was no where to be sensed, and he felt alone – yet he was at peace. A bright light faded into nothing. He no longer sensed anything. But he still... thought. His thoughts were still there.
Is this it? Is this death? Will my last coping of reality be share only with myself?
An electric buzzing tingled his thoughts, as they slowly passed away.