Possible Present  

Now as I’m about to have three miniature suns dropped onto me by a single elder light elemental, with 5 more about to arrive and the very concept of light of this world having its eyes drawn to me I wish I had the emotional capacity to care.  

Two minutes ago, I got tricked into touching sentient light and up until now I got to experience the ugly consequences of fighting someone that moves at the speed of light, even in an environment that is filled with gas, it was still mostly to fast for my perception.   

Now how did this fight start and why, well that is a long story. Why am I again having self-indulgent discussions with myself, when one of my bodies is in danger of being erased and or imprisoned and eternally tortured? I am an insane hivemind. But like all things it wasn’t always this way, so do we all agree to have another look back at how we turned out this way and maybe reflect? 

While a single individuum of us is screaming, another triggers [Precognition] to watch the outcome another has started to remember, others started to prepare themselves to join the fight, and some are going after their own missions in complacent silence, some more rouge elements scheme, while a still small part of our collective conscience scream we should awaken, arouse, vivify the main the lobotomized original one, but such thoughts are quickly crushed and abandoned. For we have managed so long so well with our own ways that such heresy is no longer needed, and yet we dare not to destroy it.  

Hollowing out lesser planets and overwhelming their societies with numbers and legions alone is so much fun, and it only gets better when one hunts there fleeing last members for sports, only to turn back time and evaluate if the way we harvested our XP was efficient, and then do it again. You see many crucial human elements were lost on our long journey and eventually almost completely abandoned, which is why and how the humanitarian faction in the hive came to be.  

I lost track of our thoughts again and again I lose myself in the nostalgia and allow myself to join the steam of thoughts and memories, as one of my bodies is torn asunder in a second only to come back the next bathed in holy and unholy light. One joins the fight and already cast [Time Stop] from good old Fable, once cast one has all the time one can maintain it, in our case indefinite so one of us allows himself to finally think back, as some warp themself to our position even in stopped space-time, and the crushed body thinks of the beginning, of all that made the convoluted and confused him. 

Too long ago  

A young lad finds himself strapped onto an operating table. Slowly rousing from his sedated sleep, only for panic to start setting as he realizes that he is bound. Confusions and disgust are the first things that mire his face, as he smells the nefarious stench of rot, rotting flesh. His eyes show him to his right and left rows upon rows of awakening people. All in equal unrest, and now Noel thinks to himself only “Fuck”. With no memory of what, how or why his thoughts are swiftly disturbed by a growing number of chained who scream for help. 

 His stomach sunk, and panic was beginning to show its ugly fangs as his heartrate began to skyrocket, cold sweat started exiting his body, and so he too began to scream for somebody something. His captors nowhere in sight and his binds not budging, and certain physical needs began to grow not just in him but in all captured. With a dried-up throat he stopped screaming, some continued, and all was unfortunately to real to be a dream. Left alone a few sought to speak to their neighbor only for language barriers to show up, but nothing a basic education and third-rate English couldn’t solve.  

Nole listened in on other conversations only to find others knew as much as he did. He began to wonder how all of this shitshow came to be, why he had to be kidnapped, how this was fair and mentally he made amends to his family and friends. A part of him that was quick to abandone all told him, he wasn’t going to make it out alive, and he believed it. Cursing and cursing for all it was worth with tears in his eyes, as he slowly abandoned all attachments to his live in order to stomach his situation.  

After what seemed to be hours, he realized the crying around him stopped so he began to look around. Noel felt it tremors their underground station shock, and so did their tables. The tremors became stronger, and their origin seemed to come closer. 

 A wall exploded, Noel looked to his right and left only to barely make out figures in his peripheral vision. A girl with a weird scythe and opposite of her a tall man dressed in a suit, just looking at him made his mind languid and thoughts muddled. The man had in his right a sword made of crystals an in his left seemingly the world. 

Noel could hear their words as everyone seemed silenced after their introduction. The girl was huffing and exhausted and the weapon spoke to her “Gray focus, you can’t stop now, gather yourself, this is dangerous.”.  

“Don’t worry the Big Bens London's Star student body knows how to deal with curses and apostles.” a boy said as he appeared from the hole in the wall.  

“Thank you, Flat” said the girl as she advanced on her enemy, now more clear headed than before. 

The man seemingly offhanded blocked all of her attacks. 

 “Now where is menuisier Lord El-Melloi”. 

“Right here and it is Lord El-Melloi II” Lord El-Melloi II said terrible exhausted with him one more girl and one more boy. 

And Noel was happy at the thought of salvation less happy, at the implications of the beings that just entered the large room where he and many others were bound. This was Type Moon or Fate and the last time he went to sleep his world had novels and games about this now, now he was stumped.  

“Ah Lord El-Melloi now one of your example students made this sword, a copy of the second magicians ones and now in my hand, as you have seen in my earlier experiments in Europe it can be used as a medium to interfere with the Root, and it’s main use is to draw mana from all realities. So, while the second magicians already got his True Magic from the Root, can one still access the path?” 

“That is a fool's errand, all paths are sealed off by the world after someone walks them once to the Root only able to be accessed through the magician's corpse.” said Lord El-Melloi II to the Vampire. 

“Well, your Foundation of Modern Magecraft should demand proof, because there isn’t any I an Apostle of the End know of so we should send all the souls here to the other side of the world, not that they would return, but as the first experiment of a long series let us document it, for definitive proof.” 

“I unfortunately can’t agree with your methods and wrongdoings. Flat, Grey go” said Lord El-Melloi. 

Everyone captured now screamed as if their life depended on it. 

Noel saw something change in the constructs the tall man was holding, they were illuminating and now the ground was glowing.  

“Stop him now” screamed El Melloi II 

Nothing they did could reach him anymore he was already under protection in a bubble. 

“First the unsummoning then the sending”  

Were the last words Noel heard then his whole vision went white.