Left Behind
"SquareHead"
I was left behind, wasn’t I? Was I not left behind?
He couldn’t remember when he had actually became himself, the person he is. Yes, he’s Lecan. But is he really Lecan? Or, is he truly himself, not someone, something produced by this entity, this person, Lecan. So many questions, he hates these. So many questions, he really hates them.
He remembers Zohar, the way it arose from the pits, a cavern that resembled a little of Hell. Yes, like a volcano, like a lot of things. He remembers, a serge being sent throughout his whole body, the sensors ringing freely, powerfully. They were happy, gleeful, that they had become something fulfilled. The whole point was to turn to power, THE power. Something he couldn’t quite acquire without Zohar, lovely Zohar, a place of birth for him.
I was left behind. I’m not real; I’m a replacement, just a replacement for this so called ‘entity’. I laugh at him. All he is, is a coward, lonely, a generation of a full-breed coward.
Jealousy has become so close to him. He loves it, and sometimes hates it. He has long forgotten his purpose in life. Had he really had a purpose, ever? Has he? What has he become? He doesn’t understand what he is. There’s a probability he’s real, but the odds point to the reality of fakeness. He’s a fake duplicate of a coward, who fell to the helm of nothing, the coward who wasn’t able to help her, therefore blaming himself, seeking power.
Am I only power, only his source of not being able to help – helplessness? Or, maybe I’m only the power that he had, turning him into me. Does this constitute being real? Being someone of reality. Or, am I still a coward, nothing more. Am I Lecan, in form of Grahf? Am I me?
Grahf returned to himself. Khan got away with hiding the ‘Contact’ from him, and the power of something more real. Something Grahf liked being involved with, giving Grahf what he couldn’t have – reality. Being real. This kid, more than innocent, and this kid is a natural born assassin, faked in a new persona. Of course, Grahf, would take this assassin for his own pleasures, abilities. He would train him, help him, and succeed in his duties as an assassin. Yes, this was a purpose, only one, of Grahf. Something to live for is known for. He could be dependent on this factor, this love for power, the feeding, and hunger of it.
Grahf sighed, stood, and then walked toward a little bit. That memory still held in his thought, the first releasing of his little assassin’s "awakening". This flashback still held in his mind. There was something significant about it. Something special that he couldn’t grasp, just yet. No, he couldn’t grab a hold of it. It will come to him though. It will, because he’s going to make sure that it will. He grinned, of course it was hidden to anyone else who could see him – although he was hidden, beside the town. He loved his powers – they could be used for anything: stealth, pain, telekinesis, mind-control, anything, perfection for the one who knew how to use it, and abuse it. You only live once, so why not live how you want to? Why not? Of course, he was wrong, you can live your life multiple times. Given that you’re special, different. Living examples show him this, the kid looks the same as the coward, probably is one without being "awakened," and the girl, is still the same, and her name hasn’t been altered. Never has, will never be, altered.
Grahf moved on, walking still. He had predicted that Elly would arrive, in the gear, in the slayer of god gear. Along with some of her recruits, people in gears, lives that would be demolished by this gear she brought. A flick of his hand, perhaps his finger, would bring destruction; he would start the coward’s "awakening" again. He will enjoy the moment it happens, for he is sure it will be fulfilled.
I was left behind, and I may not be real. Do I care? No, I am who I am, real or fake. I live, I breathe, I feel. I am power, I am he, and I am I. I am multiplicity of things, living or not. I am something, maybe nothing, but that’s still something. This nothingness isn’t what it is known to be, it can be more than something, and it can be better than something. It is better than something – much better.