Episode 3: The Static of Disconnect

Joji collapsed into the overgrown grass with a violent and sudden crash; the white mech stood in the shadow of the giant trees of the ancient and forgotten forest.

The separation from the mech had been abrupt and harrowing; the flow state of pure resonance had been a beautiful dance of instinct and intuition, acting at the orchestration and direction of emotion and chaos.

The split and crash to the ground was an unplugging from the pure, and the destination was the piercing and unrelenting static of life.

The soft patter and chirping of the insects and animals of the forest hammered at Joji like an offensive and stabbing drumming, infiltrating his consciousness like a barrage of pins.

The piercing sound of nature was layered with the overwhelming laceration of the static; it was the vibration and hum from the contrast of leaving a noisy environment, but rather than a slow suffocation, the noise of this static was a sharp asphyxiation compressing his consciousness with venom and intent.

Joji grabbed hold of his head, clutching his fingers at his scalp and writhed at the unrelenting assault.

The white mech stood like a witness to the chaos - the dense dark forest covered most of its body like a jacket of nature; the moonlight barely pierced the ceiling of the canopy, and yet Joji could see the static. The white flickering glitch filled his eyes like a layer between him and the world. He closed his eyes and as he did the glow erupted and flooded his consciousness.

He rolled onto his back and pressed the palm of his hands into his eye sockets. His body was sinking into the overgrown grass like a sailor thrown overboard at night. He was being swallowed by the earth and foliage, thin and lonely rays of moonlight made their way to this pit of despair.

Memories and emotion flooded him.

He saw the faces of his friends and loved ones replaying in his mind’s eye, interlaced with one another, yet distinct and separate. The scenes were overwhelming his mind, and the static wasn’t patient enough to present them to Joji with order and etiquette.

Every memory played the same look on their faces. The look of anguish and quiet despair - of putting in care and effort just to find a disinterested and detached Joji.

That look.

The soft smile, but sad eyes that hid nothing. The quick look down and poor attempts to mask sadness, the subtle swallow and acceptance that their efforts would never be enough.

The same look, time and time again.

Each look cut into Joji’s guilt; the embodiment of dissatisfaction; he was the cold disinterested gravity that pulled the light from their faces. He was the abyss that took the warmth and love, and swallowed them without a word of gratitude.

A further glitch and the faces wiped from existence.

Instead, the violent jagged edge of a purple blade lay before him; a UGA officer standing, wide open and mouth agape. The tears in his eyes flickered with the reflection of the flickering purple blade. The white mech stood in the reflection of the ever cracking window.

The static suddenly came to an end - a final glitch of a distorted reality and Joji was filled with a leaden and heavy heart as memories of the attack on the orbital station were presented to his consciousness.

Terrifying explosions encapsulated his entire being as the mech shielded the station’s weapons with a semi-transparent and shimmering purple energy shield. He saw what it was like to stand in the middle of an exploding inferno; he saw himself dropping down and flying to the station amongst the chaos of its attacks, he saw the cracking glass and the terrified faces, he saw the purple energy sword cut open the station as though the grey metal was naught but fog and mist.

The noise of the forest had lifted, and his heart had been anchored down with a deep and harrowing realisation of time lost and of his actions in the mech.

He looked up at the towering white machine standing amidst the darkness like a metallic reaper, a robotic angel of wild design and evil intent. Even against the greys and blacks of the shadows of the forest, the mech’s white stood out like an anomaly.

Joji looked down at his hands; he saw the metaphorical blood staining them and felt the warmth of the same in stark contrast to the chill of the night air.

The overwhelm of the disconnect had been swept away, and yet what disturbed Joji the most was not the powerfully deep feeling of guilt, but rather the profound lack of it. Despite the heaviness pulling on his heart, he did not feel guilt as the flicker of memories replayed again and again in more and more clarity.

He looked into the dark eyes of the mech and saw himself - the lack of remorse and guilt, the cold interior, robotic and silent.

His eyes shot open abruptly - he had remembered leaving his friends as they had camped. He remembered finding the mech. He remembered first piloting it. He remembered the feeling of pure bliss as the burden and heaviness of the world faded, and he felt the resonance of truly being and surrendering to instinct and the flow of emotion. He remembered those first few flights.

But, what else had he forgotten?

He lay on the ground and stared up at the canopy. The forest creaked and chattered as it breathed deeply in the middle of the night, but Joji lay in quiet contemplation. He lay, feeling everything and nothing at the same time - thoughts drifted between memories of the past and memories that did not feel as though they were his. He saw her fleeting face and the soft touch of her hand. He tasted the cold iron of space with a sense of familiarity, despite never consciously leaving the Earth.

The flow of consciousness and thought spiralled like a white rapids, every effort to think was akin to sticking his hand in the raging flow of the river trying to redirect it for his own investigation.

Joji’s limbs lay heavy against the forest floor. His body ached with dense fatigue, he felt himself sinking into the ground, unable, or unwilling to move. He suddenly became aware of the soreness between his lips; they felt dry and cracked, and yet held together with a thin layer of moisture. He thought back to when he last drank. He too became aware of the ache in his stomach and the tightening of his abdominals.

He sighed and climbed to his feet.

Episode 2 - From the Abyss

Episode 4 - Coming soon!

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