Part 3
Imbalance within times [?spaces] forms within you. An agent of order has [?cheated] your existence.
Your [?story] is broken. The cycle is in jeopardy. I must give you your [?].
The [?desire] of chaos is your [?]. Your chaos is to render [?to write] balance onto the [?home?family] of everyone.
You were chosen [?enslaved] by the will of balance, my [?master]. Its agent, your father [?god], birthed you with your [?].
The cycle must be complete. You will awaken my sister [?brother] before your paths diverge.
* * * * * * *
My eyes snap open as my vision ends. The spirit of the machine is corrupting my mind. I am blinded by the invisible. My ears ring with silence. Everything is... Balance. Ageless, endless...
No. My will is strong. I am my own. I know what I must do, and nothing can stop me.
The silence no longer smothers my ears. The invisible fades into the darkness. Familiarity washes over my newborn senses.
"Tim! Tim! Get up, you old bastard, or we'll both be killed!"
This insolent boy. The machine wills me to go with him. The machine...
I rise to my feet. My fist clenches. Surge. Crunch. His body collapses onto the cold steel floor.
"Get out."
My knuckles burn. It feels like justice. The crunch wasn't the merely sound of flesh and bone. It was the sound of the human wheel fracturing. The machine... I will destroy it.
Choose your weapon.
The man doesn't stay on the floor for long. He carefully pushes himself up. Without ever looking into my eyes, he pauses for a brief moment. His face is blank, stained only by a fine stream of blood trickling from his left nostril, but the tension he feels overwhelms all else.
Despite this, he then simply turns around and runs away. Good riddance.
And yet... And yet... I feel guilty about this? Why should I? He was in my way, and he got what he deserved. Whoever he was, he didn't...
"Now, where have I seen this before? Oh, that's right. It's just like the way you said goodbye to me back in the day."
...How long was this person standing behind me? His voice is soft, and his demeanor is flippant, but his words sting with hatred. Above all else, this man wants me dead.
"I miss those days. Don't you?"
I have to do something. Defend myself? How?
My knuckles burn again. This time, it feels unnatural. A faint memory of it returns. The missing thing... The ultimate weapon... It is my only hope.
Use it wisely.
