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Prequel

Prequel to all

Silence. Or to be more accurately labelled; the absence of words.

{So, I’m guessing that you’re just seeing white?}

{Wow. Okay, so black scribbles on a white background-}

[They aren’t going to see more than that. They live within a different existential crisis to us.]

{I am once again certain that you mean dimension.}

[No, pretty sure I meant what I said.]

{So, if they’re only seeing scribbles-}

[They call them words, Mister Roge.]

{These letters that they’re seeing, they form as I speak yes?}

[As I have already told you. When you sit in that grand black marble chair, as you are, and touch the red crystal goo within the grooves of the arms, which you are doing, then what you say appears in their dimension on something they call digital paper.]

{Curious.}

Silence

[Aren’t you going to speak to them then? You did ask me to set all of this up for you.]

{I’m not sure what to say now.}

Silence…
Followed by an extremely short burst of static…

{What are you doing now?}

[I was just fiddling around with the equipment.]

{Well, don’t…}

{I suppose if I think about it. I should start with who I am and how I got here-}

[That is a story all on its own. Don’t start with something too long. You don’t want them running in the opposite direction. You’re probably scaring them away as it is.]

{Then how would you start it. Once upon a time in a far-off location-}

[That’s from that film they watch on Earth… Oh, damn. You knew that was going to play with my head and begin to annoy me. Damn, damn, damn. What is that bloody series called?]

{Star something. Look help me out here. How do I start this?}

[Well, how about telling them who you are and where we are?]

{Okay, I can do that. My name is Marx Roge senior, and I was a butcher before this. We appear to be inside a pocket of sub-magically-inverted-light which passes through everything and nothing. At this moment in time, we are about the size of a preon, which is smaller than a quark-}

[They might not know what that means.]

{I am going to hit you in a minute.}

[How? I have a body and you don’t. When we explore the facts of your new existence, you need to think about what I gave up for you. Then note that this preon is my new home and you sir, you are in fact only along for the ride. You would do better in this new reality, if you first acknowledge your current situation.]

{So, you’re going back to collecting souls then?}

Silence

{You haven’t answered me.}

[And I wasn’t going to. Their observing you, you know.]

{I thought you said it was called reading.}

[Hahaha. And here I am remembering, that you couldn’t even do that simply task before I found you.]

{Yes, I remember. Oh, how the wise and powerful hob-goblin had to teach the country butcher how to read and write. How big you must feel? Bloody narcissist.}

[Do you want to be delivered to Nivrean?]

{I want to breathe again.}

[Ha. Never going to happen and it isn’t even remotely possible. You’re now just energy, which exists within the fourth dimensional meadow that expands throughout the cosmos.]

Deep goblin breathing but no more words followed…

{What are the screens for again?}

[Mmmm. Tell me again why I didn’t deliver you?]

{The screens?}

[Number one is for viewing planets or to be more specific, viewing individuals on any number of habitable worlds across the cosmos. We can also view any time period possible, forwards or backwards. But you already figured that one out when you were watching the Kings of Old.]

{They weren’t as interesting, as I thought they would be.}

[The second screen is for observing Nivrean, so we can make sure they are not searching for us. The third is wired into the CCTV feed from within the home of the many gods, which is mainly just, so we can be noisy. Gods after all can sometimes be enjoyable enough to watch.]

{And the fourth?}

[I was getting to that, Goddess help me. The fourth is not hooked up, but I was going to use it to find signals and watch sports. We just need to get close enough to a nano-singularity, so we can receive what science folk call broadcasts.]

{I am not sure that I want you doing that. It sounds dangerous.}

[No more precarious than our own current situation.]

Silence

{Should I tell them about our situation?}

[What, that I ignored the rules of the cosmos. Left my home and job behind, only to have you follow me around. Just so we could wander around the expanse between the atoms, as fugitives of the cosmos.]

{No that we are rebels against death itself.}

[No, we are not. Why did I ever give you your memories back is still beyond me. I could be sipping rash’tan juice on a cosmic beach right now.]

{How are we not?!}

[Because you’re still deceased! You have no physical body, you’re barely a glimmer of your former identity, and all you do is watch Caradesance, as if it was a history program.]

{Well, the planet is interesting to me. What would you be like if you had stayed in the same place all your life? Then along comes your demise and you find out that this new experience you have been given, is a lot bigger than you could ever have imagined. Eh?}

[What you on about now. Your home-world or the cosmos?]

{Both. The way I see it, it goes like this; we don’t need to go into the afterlife. We have this bubble, with a space inside that is immeasurable to the mind-}

[And yet you can touch the walls if you want…]

Silence

{Audience, readers, those who like my scribblings, please ignore the hob-goblin. He is the very tip of a male’s sexual reproductive organ, and I was brought up not to use bad language like that!}

[Goddess help me. Where they’re from that isn’t even a form of bad language.]

{And yet, I still feel that it is.}

Silence

{So, the reader now knows where we are. Who we both are. How you can be annoying and that I am a spirit in a fourth dimensional shell. What else is there?}

[How about telling them and a doctor of the mind, why you feel the need to begin watching one group of people like a pervert and that you want to tell another group of people, about what the first group are getting up to.]

{It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.}

[I think it is.]

Wallop, smack, and kick.

{What you doing now?}

[Trying to watch the serpents play the hawks. But the bloody thing keeps asking me for credit card details.]

{Well, I am Marx Roge and I think that I will leave this introduction here. My assistant, as you can most likely tell, won’t concentrate on doing this today.}

[I am not your assistant. On top of that, I have already bloody well told you that I am not talking into that machine. Just so you can carry on feeling useful.]

Static… Followed by true silence, the type of silence you heard before the words began to appear…