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Beginning of the End: Avatar
Posted By: Mad Dog - CFH<MrshlDillonJones@aol.com>
Date: 08 August 2001, 9:24 PM

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"If I can not move heaven.
I shall bend Hell."
- Aeneid.

"...Log on, 14 hours after landing.

    I dreamed last rest, or at least the closest thing to it for a cyborg I guess. Dreams are meant to be playgrounds of the minds, right? Well, mine was an insane asylum, where no sane thoughts were allowed.

    I dreamed that I was this damn ghost town of an Alien relic, drifting endlessly in the calm, cold blackness of space. Spinning round and round that gigantic gas giant with an eerie stiocness, like a tombstone to whoever built me, or a statue.

    I felt all inside of me, keeping the life of plants and animals going like a good mother or father should. Until I felt the taint of those inside of me, and I was... angry. It is the same anger I feel towards the Covenant, the kind that brings me into that white hot rage that can only be satisfied by fighting.

    I was hollow in my dream, a ring, yearning to be satisfied enough to live in peace. I think that is a brillant metaphor for who I am now isn't it? Hollow, a hole in my soul that I can't quite fill. I wonder if they did this to me when they made me a cyborg, or if I was like this to begin with.

    But through that insane dream I think I understood a little more about the universe we live in. Could fate be something that could be guided through time and space by not a god... wait, wait... stop log."

    That was all Virgil said as took a step foward slowly and brushed his armored hand over the bent stalks of grass on the path he had came across. Even through all that armor, he could feel more then most humans could endure without passing out with sensory overload. He frowned, or at least thought he did. You would be amazed what you would miss if you weren't fully human any more.

    He stood slowly and snapped back on his mic with a squeeze of his teeth. Brushing off his fingertips on his thigh, absently stroking his side arm just to make sure it was there.

    "...Continue log. What was I going on about? Oh yes, Fate and Gods, well, Gods would be a confusing term in these lands now wouldn't it. A god is a higher power, with the will to destroy or create life at a whim. In essence, we are all gods. But I once remembered hearing about an old tale, about the "Nephilim". Angels who gave man the basic knowledge to begin their existence, called giants for their size. Coincidence? The Nephilim stayed, and bred with human females. If I was a betting man, I think that the 'Gods' might have been something other then holy dieties, but Aliens... just like the ones who I am fighting and killing now a days.

    The gods of our time might not be alien or human, but all seeing, all knowing dieties. Artifical intelligence. But perhaps these gods, and the gods of the old days are one in the same. I think that makes me an avatar. Can a god be killed? Sure. Can a god be forgotten? Yes. I, however. Intend to be niether of these things. I am going to stain this tomb of the gods red if need be, but the covenant will fear my unholy wraith none the less. I guess I am a vengeful avatar, maybe because a god cries for vengance. Log off."

    He was moving before he stopped talking, through the brush to follow the trail that the careless beasts had made when they defieled this tranquil place. His hand snapped free the side arm from his thigh as he just, felt, himself moving closer to the enemy. He was this, an avatar of the gods, thought he did not know it yet. He crept around a tree, and without a thought... began firing rounds.

    The first two shots thundered out and cracked through the chest of a grunt who was standing with his back to the armored Cyborg. Virg kicked off and rolled, spinning to a halt as his boot came out to keep him up and he kept thundering out rounds with both hands wrapped around the handle of the sidearm. The way he fought, without emotion, without a second thought... it seemed to affect even the Aliens, the last elite even seemed enthralled with the armored man's grace and naturally agility. The hunter, like the lion back on ol' terra... agile and quick, decisive in it's killing. Virg thought on that, while the last round of his dry clip slammed through the hip of the last Elite, sending him tumbling to the ground.

    It was over the easily and quickly, 3 Aliens down and dying, and the human with just one less clip to work with. Can their be anything as comforting, and warm as metal in your hands from a weapon? Virgil didn't think so, he believed he could take on the entire Covenant fleet and come out walking. He guess he had to, he was.

    He stood up and moved over to the reddish thing he could only assume was transportation of some kind. It was when he saw the discarded assualt rifle that the voice patched over his comm unit, crackling once before the calm, emotionless voice spoke out in a female tone that, in another time and place... might be sexy.

    "...Find the humans, they'll need you Virgil."

    Oddly enough, the cyborg was not surprised. He simply picked up the assualt rifle with his left hand as his right dropped the pistol back down in it's plastic home on his thigh. The weapon was dry of rounds, but it would still be nice to have around him. A security blanket of sorts. He looped it over his shoulder to allow it to dangle. Humans on here, they would be a source of ammo perhaps... who knows.

    A bleeding wet cough was what finally caught his attention, from an Elite who did not know when to die. The Alien stared up to the Cybrog in what could almost be called... Awe. Virgil stared back down for a few seconds, watching his foe die. It was inhuman in a way, like watching a wounded dog breath it's last breaths. Virgil simply commented down to the beast, which he knew would not even understand him. And then, he began to move off. Sensors stretching out over the land like millions of arms, grabbing for information.

    "Yeah, it was good for me too skinny."