The Uplift Protocol: In the Beginning

Issue 179: Prologue I Spy With My Eye



Prologue: I Spy With My Eye

Our chroniclers still wonder: Why choose Eliza Murphy? Wouldn’t her mind eventually break down from all Time Travel? Our scribes can only observe the past. If we try to leave artifacts they disappear nearly instantly. We figure this must be the Weave preventing contamination. –Ruminations on the 21st through 3oth centuries

Trouble always kept his feet moving forward. I did the same yet with one major difference: The Weave, by the will of the Highest, decided I’d be the one to play “Keep the Eye on the Ducky!” with Ren. I usually called her Beef Jerky though. No amount of life force could make that thing appealing or human or even one iota of pleasant.—Gulliver

The Curator showed me this bit at least. Yes, time travel did do a number on me, especially in the beginning. This is why I only have flashes of what happened during my death. I don’t wish that kind of journey on anyone. The Ur-Stone had, to the best of my understanding, mind slates. My memories and actions from various periods throughout my life. A deadman’s switch upon me “striking” Unity. Then those fragments would go out, rippling along the timeline to course-correct what beings higher than me deemed vital for the survival of the Multiverse and Eden. The one-armed me? That was the closest version facing the Cliffs.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 23rd century (vol 5)

Galactic Core

Edenverse

July 10th, 4201

I broke the surface of the water.

Wrestling what could be considered a horse-sized T-Rex with wings. Gulliver quacked, <> Its 6-inch fangs attempted to gnaw my right arm off. The crackling silver dragon tattoo flexed on my left arm. Hissing and snapping at the demented lizard. Trouble formed a bubble around the reptile. Lifting it above the waterline. Holding it there. I swam to the shore. Then collapsed on the sandy buff. Doc glared at everyone.

Elias pulled out his pipe, “Like a future dino could take out that Yankee!”

Every part of my body hurt. Like I hadn’t used it in years.

Lorain shot me a glance that made me wonder.

I asked point-blank, “How long was I gone?”

Little John flopped onto my midsection.

He titled his head at me. His ears pulled back, <>

My vision flashed white. My head pounded.

Hungry eyes, crimson, and gold, poured into that place I dared not look. Hands covered in ash. Trying to pull me under.

Sentinel growled, <>

Robin peered down at me, “I get that but we shouldn’t coddle. At least, not us.” Marion landed on his shoulder. Her crow’s beak was marked with new lines of power I hadn’t noticed before. She pecked at her husband’s red cap, <>

Lorain said, “This is more than following that Path of Ancients. It's obvious Cornfed has to get her wind back.” She stressed the word. She rolled me onto my stomach. Just a simple examination at first. Her power flowed over me. Her eyes raking over every inch of me. Fearing I’d fade into the ether. My aches and pains receded. That wasn’t the source of my worry. My return had marked another turning point. Sentinel’s wolfish head materialized and he nudged me, <>

My eyes locked onto Doc, “Thoth.”

Rage burned and Lorain stamped down on it.

“The Everlasting Corpse.”

Lorain wasn’t talking about Renenutet.

One steeped in two worlds.

Hilary Brookes. A being equivalent to my brother in Unity’s Pantheon.

Thoth, my equivalent. The Mirror everyone had denied.

I had been healing White all those years.

The Weave had been clever. Hiding the nature of Prophecy.

Yes, my brother and I were the Twin Rulers of the Sky.

My brother was the anchor. Yet Unity had its last vestiges in play. It tried to mimic what it hated most. So it had its own version of a Weave. Placing itself above all. Yes, Matarn’s old spear had marred its flesh. I had poured everything into it. My life, my soul, my very existence. It was wounded horribly. Drawn to a time beyond time. But as long as the last of its Slumbering Nightmare walked the lands of the living, it could return through them. I stood.

“Within the Path of Ancients is a throne of bones. We must stop Hilary and Thoth from reaching it. Activating it. Then the Three will close the loop. The Throne Matrix will seal the corridor off from everyone until the 42nd century.”

The Amache, as a whole, were made for the final Seal. Those who had rejected creation. Living in the In-Between.

Sir Avalon’s words came to me, “I have lived on borrowed time. Yet found my way to a new life.” Lorain pulled a circlet from her pack. Its silver surface bringing back a flood of memories. As she placed it on my head I leaned against her for a moment. “The Icath flow from the distant future to the past, meeting themselves at the moment of their birth.” She cupped my face. Paling at my words.

I continued, “At the time of meeting they exist in life and death. That is their sacrifice.”

A guttural voice purred, “You understand now. I will walk with you the rest of the way.”

P’tah’s feline form circled. The tip of his tail curling around my wrist. The Crystal Dragon flexed. Its coils brilliant within the deep purple of P’tah’s jeweled forehead. He continued, “Your mind is ready. The body will follow. Come.”

The silver spear formed in my hands. Its light cascading across the valley of this distant world. The Vigil was only beginning. Trouble remarked, <> He waddled over to me and his black wings unfurled.

Gulliver snorted but his eyes cleared, <>

Marion landed on my head. Her crow’s beak gleaming silver for a brief moment.

<>


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