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000 - Prologue - Birth of a Planeswalker
🕑 Added 2024-07-03 17:34:59 +0000 UTC“Hey! Mikhail! We'll all drink at Johnny's tonight. Are you in?"
A man in a loose-fitting shirt stood at the threshold of Mikhail's lab, sporting a slightly intoxicated expression. Mikhail could smell the alcohol in the man's breath, even from the other side of the room. Still, despite the noise the man's loud voice emitted, Mikhail paid no attention; he was too absorbed in his research.
“C'mon! Weren't you looking forward to it?" the man said as he approached the workbench, where Mikhail was currently tinkering. "The girls said Sarah's going to be there."
Mikhail raised his gaze while still keeping a firm grip on the device in his hands; the slightest deviation from his calculations would have astronomic consequences. Still, he couldn't help but be intrigued once he heard the woman's name.
He looked at the slovenly man and couldn't help but frown. Despite also being a researcher in this facility, he couldn't look further from it. His shirts were always flashy, and he never wore the company white coat. Despite all this, he was one of the most brilliant minds of this century. A shame he was a drunkard and womanizer. He could have propelled the world forward a few decades, but he was much too busy living in sin. Worse yet, he would try to rope Mikhail in his decadence at every chance.
"Hey, I heard you’re working on a prototype for interplanetary shift?" the man said, wobbling slightly. "What's wrong with good old teleportation? Did it become so mundane that you now want to tear the dimensions apart?"
Mikhail frowned as the liquor bottle in the man's hand sloshed around with every step he took. The man took a gulp from it while a slight tint of red rose to his cheeks; his smile grew wider as he wrapped his arm around Mikhail’s shoulder.
“C’mon, live a little! This boring world will still be here tomorrow.”
Mikhail shook his head. Despite his insufferable nature, Mikhail couldn't hate that man. He had something different, something special.
Despite all his efforts, Mikhail was only slightly brighter than the rest. Even when he applied to this research lab, he could barely make the cut. Even now, his research into interdimensional matter shift remains at a standstill. If he failed to show results within this quarter, the lab threatened to cut his funding.
The device in his hand was his life's work, but it was only a step from completion. He knew his theories were correct, but he could not find a way to materialize them until he found an old blueprint tucked away within the research lab's archives.
Mikhail had found it odd. Who would use paper blueprints nowadays? Everything was digitized and stored within the nation's central database. It was as if the person who drew them didn't wish for the company to find them yet couldn't bear to throw them away.
What surprised him most was the ineligible signature at the bottom of that blueprint. Mikhail could have sworn it resembled this drunkard's name. Mikhail paused for a moment, contemplating its implications were it to be true. Yet, he put it out of his mind as it seemed much too farfetched.
Anyway, those blueprints were a flash of inspiration. Without them, his project wouldn't have been so close to completion. And yet, he was still missing a piece, the most crucial one. Still, he had no idea what it was. He had tried everything; he was at the end of his rope. He was irritated and stressed. Maybe that man was right, and he needed to let it go.
“Hmm, what’s this?” the man said as he snatched the device from Mikhail’s hand. “Is that your Dimensional Tear Generator? Isn’t it quite puny? I figured it should have more... girth, you know? Something with more piercing power, maybe?”
Mikhail could only shake his head and sigh. Despite the man's brilliance, it was always drowned out by a sea of alcohol. If only he could rid himself of his vices, he could have made something of himself; he could have been someone important, someone who stood above others. Still, it seemed the man had no interest in that, opting to enjoy his life each and every day. Still, Mikhail couldn't help but envy the man's carefree attitude sometimes.
“Please give me back my device; I need to finish this," Mikhail said calmly, trying to reason with the drunken man. Unfortunately, trying to do so was an exercise in futility.
“Isn't it already done?" the man said with a slight smile. "Just give it a good whack, and it should start right up!"
Colour drained from Mikhail's face. While he believed the man to be joking, he couldn't shake the feeling that he would really do such a thing in his drunken state. He wrestled with the man’s arm, trying to free himself from his hold, before extending an arm to reach for his device, but the man jerked his hand back, out of reach.
This sudden motion prompted the drunken man to fall backward, off-balance. The device flew from his hand as he tumbled backward, falling on his back. The bottle of liquor in his other hand also flew to the ceiling. The device hit the ground with a thud, yet it seemed intact.
It was a sturdy, three-dimensional, hexagonal black box, not much larger than a baseball. It was made of solid metal, so the soft floor wouldn't leave a mark on its surface. Mikhail let out a sigh of relief once he noticed that his baby was safe. However, the liquor bottle started his descent before he could reach for it.
Mikhail tried to catch it but missed it by an inch. The bottle crashed straight into the device, spilling its contents everywhere. Whether due to the shock or the strong liquid spilling on it, a strong, incandescent light spilled from the device's core as it split slightly in the middle.
Mikhail was blinded. He tried to block the light with his arms but to no avail. The light seemed to pass right through before embedding itself straight into his visual cortex. Minutes passed—or maybe just an instant; Mikhail couldn't tell—yet the light drowning out the world showed no signs of receding.
Mikhail felt a burning sensation arise within his core as if trying to split his very soul. He screamed, yet no sound was heard, as if he had no lungs. He couldn't feel his body anymore; the burning sensation seemed just like a lingering pain within his brain, something akin to the feeling of a ghost limb.
Soon enough, even his consciousness blurred as the light was extinguished. Nothing remained of his research lab. It was now nothing but a smouldering crater. Mikhail and the device were both gone as if they had evaporated in the night.
******
An old man lay on his deathbed, surrounded by his family. In his youth, he had been a famed merchant. He had started from the bottom and created a business empire that now spanned countless star systems. And yet, despite all his money, he still couldn't go against the universe's natural laws. He grew old and was about to die.
Although his life would end, he was content. His wife held his hand as he was to take his last breath while his five sons and daughter watched over him. A man couldn’t ask for more than to die of old age surrounded by one’s family.
Still, to die was never easy, even if one was accustomed to it. A slight terror could be found in the depths of his eyes, but his time had come, and nothing could reverse death's judgment. He had no choice in the matter. He would die this very day.
The old woman by his side looked at her man, breathing his last with a tear in her eyes. She buried her head into his now still chest, weeping silently. She, too, would die soon after from overwhelming grief, accompanying the man she loved on the journey beyond.
******
A rabbit ran on the plains from the predator chasing it. It knew its chances were slim, but its powerful legs would carry him until life would fade from it. Unfortunately, such a moment came much too soon.
A pair of powerful jaws clamped on its body, plunging the sharp teeth into its flesh. Blood flowed, moistening its captor’s throat. Its mind grew hazy until all its heat finally left it.
A large black panther held a rabbit in its maw, savouring the taste of the blood flowing in its mouth. Unfortunately, this meal was cut short as an arrow flew before embedding itself on the beast's side, piercing a lung. The beast lay on its side, struggling to breathe as its own blood endlessly dyed the plains red. Death came for everyone equally.
******
A young woman stood alongside her comrades at the summit of a massive tower. Before her was a floating window congratulating them on their victories over the tower's overlords, the Mad Gods of Destruction.
They were battered and bruised; the fight had been intense, but they had survived against all odds, primarily due to the woman's equipment. Although she could fight, her true talent lay in the art of artifact forging. Thanks to the equipment she had created, her group returned alive more than once.
Unfortunately, not all could resist the allure of such legendary gear. As the woman was now celebrating their newfound freedom, a blade plunged into her back—the same blade she had once forged. The blade slid right through her heart effortlessly before emerging from the other side.
She looked down to see the deadly weapon reaping her life. Traces of blood slid along the corner of her mouth as all life departed her. Still, her gaze was calm as water, as if she had anticipated this and chose to accept it. She stood upright for a moment longer before she closed her eyes for the final time.
******
An old man stood on a mountain peak. His long black robes fluttered in the wind as dark thunderclouds gathered overhead. His expression was grim, if somewhat insane. He was raving, screaming to the heavens above; his frustration at the world's unfairness was apparent.
Thunder cracked above before lightning fell mercilessly. The man's gaze was firm, if somewhat laced with madness, as he leapt toward the incoming bolt of lightning, sword in hand. They collided; the man's sword shattered the lightning, but he couldn't avoid the consequences of his rebellion. A mass of blood flew from his mouth, staining his robe, and yet his gaze held firm.
The sky grew darker as more clouds converged before it fell once again. Heaven's wrath seemed unending as, soon enough, the old man couldn't withstand the strain anymore. He became dust under heaven's thunder, and yet, in his last moment, the old man was content. He had confronted the world and proved his Dao.
******
Countless others rose and fell within the endless flow of history. Some were great heroes, others despicable villains, but most were simply ordinary beings living their lives as best they could. Still, they all had one thing in common.
Despite their best efforts, they felt alien to the world, as if estranged from their own reality. Some chose to bury that feeling, while others chose to fight against it. One thing was for sure: They made the most of their limited lives and died in the end. The same would hold true for all those who had yet to come.
******
A young man was seated on the sturdy branch of a large tree, watching the sun slowly set with a bottle of liquor in hand. Despite the slight melancholy in his heart, his face held a smile as he felt the soft breeze caress his skin. His long robes fluttered in the wind as he watched the sun slowly descend from the heavens toward its temporary rest.
The man reminisced of memories so long ago that they were literally lifetimes apart. He was reborn again—reborn to live and die without end—without the means to return home. But where was home again? Was it the world where he was a scientist tinkering with interdimensional shifts? Or was it the countless ones after that?
Still, such questions were best left to philosophers. The young man was content with his life. Home is where the heart is, or so it was said; his heart was here at that moment. The man could live anywhere as long as he had women to flirt with and liquor to drink.
I wonder how Mikhail is doing after all this time, the man mused. Did he finally rid himself of his virginity?
He chuckled slightly; it was so long ago, but it seemed just like yesterday that his life was thrown upside down due to the collision of a small device and a bottle of booze.
“Here’s to you, old friend!” the man said as he raised his bottle before bringing it to his lips. “And to our next meeting.”
The man smiled slightly, reminiscing of relationships long past before his smile faded, and he sighed. While still absorbed in his own thoughts, a feminine voice echoed from below.
“Qin Yun! Come! Your bride awaits!”
