The Chronicles Of Caw

**king**

1.1: The Birth Of A King (Chapter One)

“Morris….”

“MORRIS!!”

“Urgh…. Wha?... Huh?!”

“You fell asleep again Morris, what sort of an example are you setting to your staff if you just doze off at your desk, you’re lucky no customers asked to see you!”

The door slammed shut as Mr.Bigsley, the manager of Newcastle Bank who’s ego was only outweighed by his rotund frame, shuffled his way down the hall from his new deputy manager’s office.

“…Another day of drudgery” sighed the defeated young man from behind his desk, letting out a stifled yawn as he carefully adjusted his name-plate; Michael Morris; Deputy Branch Manager.

He never used to sleep so much, in fact, he was lucky to get his recommended 8-hours a night, but recently something changed, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He had been late 3 times already this week, not a good start to what he thought was going to be a job that would fill him with excitement. Surely meeting all those different people on a daily basis, helping them solve financial problems and providing products to meet their needs would be enough to keep him occupied. But yet, he yearned for more, he reached for the unreachable.

Two weeks previously, his psychiatrist told him he was medically and psychologically unsound – that this overwhelming sense that the world was not right, that people were not as they seemed was simply morbid paranoia, and that his references to his muscles feeling as though they would explode at a moments noticed was nothing but intense hypochondria… however he knew differently… he felt it…. He believed.

Hesitantly rising from his desk, he made the conscious decision to wander on to the branch floor, maybe mingling with the crowd would raise his spirits, and the call to action of being the face of this “esteemed financial institute” would shock him into the land of the awakened.

As soon as he swung the door back, he spotted old Ms.Woodman, a frail but insanely rich old spinster, no doubt coming to make her latest transfer to whichever charity had given out the prettiest ribbons that week. There, as usual, were the “two stooges”, Harold and Jeffery, it suddenly dawned upon him that he hadn’t taken the time to learn their last names – he made a mental note to check with one of the clerks.

Then, he spotted it. It must’ve occurred over the briefest of moments, but it definitely happened, no doubt about it…

A man dressed head to toe in white, hair tied back into a tight ponytail with some sort of contraption fixed around his head appeared to be juggling electricity… did that make sense?! Was that even possible?! The man motioned twice, and a bolt of energy shot down through a second individual, who quickly jumped out of sight…

By the time he scurried past the queue at the checking counter, both men were gone without a… No, it couldn’t be… could it?!

Eyes transfixed on the sky, he swore he saw the man in white appear to be… flying?!

Quickly he ran down the street, eagerly trying to gauge exactly where this man would land, if he would land at all, if it was even the same man, or just a rather large bird.

‘This is insane’ he thought to himself; ‘Doc’ was right, I need to be put in a padded cell!'

Faster and faster he ran, the sun gleaming in his eyes, blurring out what had now became a small white dot….

Onwards, faster and faster… faster…. Faster….

“Oh Sh*t…”

He barely registers as these words leave his mouth, for within an instant, the world turns dark, all he feels is his head hit the pavement with a sickening thud, and the warmth of his own blood trickling down his face.

Mere seconds seem to pass… the world is light again, an unfamiliar and hardened voice croaks…

“Welcome back Mr.Morris….”

**king**

1.2 The Birth Of A King (Chapter Two)

“Where am I?”

“Just relax, everything will come to you soon”

“My eyes, they sting like crazy”

“Yes, that’s normal after what you’ve been through – just try to relax”

He sees a man dressed in shabby old clothing that he assumed must’ve been bought from a charity shop, or else handed down through decades of family lineage, barely staying in place through the weary and worn threads which were aching to end their own misery and separate once and for all.

A warm sensation washes over him, as he feels himself hoisted upright by some unseen force. He has the sudden urge to feel the back of his head. Hmm, that wasn’t there before…

“What’s going on?! Who are you people?!”

“Try to stay calm Mr.Morris, my name is Nurse Wyoming, you’ve had a nasty accident, lucky this man found you when he did, another few minutes and we may have lost you for good!”

The room suddenly came back into view; a bright, white room which looked as though it had been endlessly sterilised with bleach, and smelt like it too.

Looking over to his bedside, he tried to focus on the shabbily dressed man. It took him a while, but he recognised him from the bank.

“Harold?”

“Yes sir, its me, I saw you falling over, thought I’d better come make sure you were OK, can’t have that bank falling into ruin now can we?”

Just what he needed, the blood on the back of his head had barely dried, and already he was filled with guilt about rushing out of work like that. No doubt Mr.Bigsley would have his contract in the shredder by now.

“OK Mr.Morris, just try to get some sleep, I’ll be back in an hour or so to check on you. Lunch service is at 2pm so I’ll make sure you’re woken before then. Its Fish and Chips today!”

His mind suddenly flashed back to the grubby tuna fish sandwiches he had hurriedly made on his way out of the door this morning. At very worst, at least he was getting a slightly improved lunch out of this whole mess.

Within moments of Nurse Wyoming leaving the room, Harold darted upright. His demeanour was no longer kind and frail; it was stern and serious.

“What was it that made you run Mr.Morris?”

“Huh?”

“You need to tell me everything; every last detail”

“Harold… if I told you, you’d think I was crazy, and besides…”

“Mr.Morris…” Harold rudely interrupted, his voice now sounding more authorative than even that of Mr.Bigsley “…my patience is running out, now tell me what you saw”

“Erm, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to old man, but what the hell does any of this have to do with you! Now thank you for finding me, thank you for making sure you got me here ok, but for now, I’d like you to leave”

The old man paused as though considering his options, he looked sideways, as though distracted by something, and then hastily gathered his coat, opened the door and turned back one last time with his parting comment;

“My employers will be in touch soon. I envisage you will be a lot more co-operative with them, whether you like it or not.”

Barely a moment after the old man scurried out of sight, the ward room window burst open, a small whisp of a man appeared, although on first impressions he looked no older than 18.

“Who the hell are you?!?! Goddammit can’t I can any peace around here?!”

“Shhh, please, we don’t want to raise any alarm… my name is NoShow”

“What the hell kind of name is that?”

“That’s not important, I have orders to rescue you and take you somewhere safe, you would not be able to comprehend the amount of danger you are in.”

“Danger? Rescue? Orders?! Orders from who?!”

“Well…. You’re about to find out…”

**king**

1.3: The Birth Of A King (Chapter Three)

"You can't expect me to go with you?!"

"Please, we must hurry, you have no idea of what dangers lie if you stay here..."

"But, i'm plugged into all of these machines!"

The wormly figure who had now completely made his way into the hospital room and was hurridly unfastening the multiple wires and tubes from the body of Michael Morris simply gave a slight chuckle, and then quickly readjusted himself, as though that display of humour had betrayed his attempt to maintain a cool and authorative demeanor.

The next words to leave his mouth chilled the scared young man lying in the hospital bed;

"If you stay here, you will be dead within the next 5 minutes - of that I guarantee"

"I must be crazy" he thought to himself, as he weakly attempted to hoist himself from the bed... but then again, today had been a day for doing crazy things; afterall, thats why he was here, in hospital.... maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Something told him otherwise. He sensed that the answers he was looking for would be found by doing exactly what this strange young boy was telling him to. Mustering all of his strength, he made it to his feet, and hesistantly made his way to the opened window.

It took all the strength left in his body to pull himself up and out onto the ledge, but he managed it. The young man who had just pursuaded him to leave the very place that was supposed to be keeping safe and comfortable was now rushing down the street. He tried to run, to keep up... the effort was agonising, the pain unbearable, but this force kept driving him on, leading him to the truth... the truth about what? 'If only Doc could see me now...' he muttered, before refocusing his energy on merely staying on his feet and in pursuit of his apparant 'rescuer'.

One block... two blocks.... past a bus station... "Where are you taking me?"; that question fell on deaf ears.... Five blocks more, he starts to feel faint... every ounce of energy has been sapped from his aching body... A swift turn down an alley, cutting through two abandoned warehouse, down 7 flights of stairs, and finally, he was there... he had found his detination, his truth, his answers, his... stack of broken down old chairs?!

"Where are we? Why did you bring me here"

"Please;" the previously stern voice broke kindly "...help me lay out these chairs... I'm going to make a quick phone call... don't be scared... everything will be clear soon, I promise"

No sooner had this "NoShow" kid turned his back, a flash of light appeared. He felt a warm sensation rush through his body and make its way swiftly to his feet. He tried to move but his legs wouldn't follow through, he was completely rooted to the spot.

He turned to look at NoShow, hoping to find an explanation, but he too was frozen - a blank expression on his face bar a stunned look in his eye.

"Don't worry about him..." purred a raspy voice from within the shadows; "He is completely numb to the world. Now, I have only 30 seconds, so i'll make this brief"

The shadowy figure stepped out to reveal a slender woman dressed head to toe in red leather. Although her frame and figure appeared to be youthful and excuberant, her poise and manner depicted that of a hardened veteran to whatever it was she was about to enact.

"Do you know why he has come for you?"

"..." Too dismayed to speak and half hoping this was all a dream, he remained completely silent but for his increasingly rapid breathing.

"He has brought you here to recruit you. Recruit you to a war that you ought take no part in, in a world that will be restricted from you in every way possible should you choose to follow his blindly. He has came to free you from bondage, and cast you into slavery"

"Erm..... wha?!"

"My words will become clear soon enough. I cannot open this particular door for you, his... ahem... 'people' are without a doubt the place to go for carrying out that particular task... however it is down to you to follow your own path into the welcoming arms of the noble cause, the cause... of the Frenchman..."

"The french? Who? I don't know any french people! I can only speak about 3 words... yeah I went there on a school trip back in..."

"Don't worry yourself too much just yet... here, take this"

The woman reached out with a gloved hand, and gave him what appeared to be a business card. He glanced at it for a split second.

A golden crest, a crown... "Code of the Awakened Watchmen"... it enscription burned itself into his mind... wait... it was actually burning!

"Jesus f*cking Christ what the hell are you trying to do?!?!"

"When you are truely awake from this dreamworld, remember us well. We will be watching you, as it is our purpose to do so... we will be waiting for you to come to us... we see great things from you, should you choose the wisest path"

He looked down at his hand. Where once there was a delicate business card, there was now emptiness. Those two things still bore deeper and deeper into his mind. The ensignia, a crown, Code of the Awakened Watchmen... what did it all mean... what did it...

He stumbled forward, the force previously inhibiting his movement now released. NoShow turned around

"You OK?"

"You didn't see... erm, yeah, I just tripped, kinda groggy from the pain meds yknow...."

"OK, wait here..."

Completely oblivious to the events of the previous 30 seconds, NoShow continued into the next room.

Within minutes, Michael Morris, newly appointed manager of Newcastle Bank was sitting upright on what appeared to be a badly maintained dentists chair.

"Just relax, this will be over before you know it..."

With that, a chilling sensation filled his lungs, his mouth, his eyes, all felt as though they had been injected with liquid nitrogen, however the sensation wasn't unpleasant... he felt.... liberated....

'Man, what drugs are these and where the hell do I get them!' he thought to himself, just as the feelings turned to panic... he couldn't breathe... what he thought was a feeling of his lungs being filled actually was his lungs being filled... his head jolts back as he lets out a silent scream... and then... the world goes black.

Nothing more.

Not a single recollection of moment of awareness until he was in that room. The chair seemed similar to the one he was previously sitting in, but the room, it seemed different. It sounded... mechanical? Were we by a railway track? An industrial factory?

Then came the voice. The self same voice that had croaked through the hospital window.

"Welcome to the Real World"

That phrase bellowed around the room, until broken by the same voice mumbling to himself "Man, i've always wanted to say that!"

Regaining compusure, NoShow spoke once more...

"What is your name my friend"

The woman... the card... the crest... the crown... the code of the awakened watchmen....His throat seared, his vocal chords strained as though they were the age-old strings of a violin being played for the first time... without thinking, without any control, he answered;

"My name...."

"My name.... is KingCAW"

**king**

2.1: Nobility (Chapter One)

"NoShow the captain is gunna wring your neck this time..."

"What do you mean, 'this time' - I never get to free anyone, its about time he realised me potential. Anyway... I can just say he became self-aware... and i'm sure you won't rat me out, now will you Ethros?"

"Shhh... I think he's waking up again"

Indeed the sound of bickering had reignited his senses, the room swung into full view, NoShow and Ethros peered at him hesistantly.

"King... are you awake?"

"Umh... urgh, yeah... you guys got any coffee?"

"Coffee?!... You've gotta be kidding right?! Don't you know where you are?! Don't you remember?!"

The hospital, the boy, the warehouse, the woman, the crest, the chair...

KingCAW suddenly jolted upright as though struck by lightening

"Get me the hell out of here! Whoever you people are, whatever you people want, just take me home!"

"You are home boy" croaked a husky, older voice of a man making his way up the dock stairs. He slowly made his way across the foot, his heavy beaten boots echoing throught the chamber with every step. He cracked his neck, took a slow glance sideways, and without warning, slapped NoShow around the back of the head...

"And YOU goddammit.... what have I told you?! ALWAYS speak to me before you release someone!!! Now get your *CENSORED* down to the cargo deck, theres some boxes need shifting......NOW DAMMIT!!!!"

He turned back with a slighty chuckle, refocusing his attentions on the freshly awakened recruit.

"So, whats your name boy?"

"Its KingCAW sir..." interupted Ethros, who was idley pushing buttons and twisting knobs on a defunct workstation, making only the slightest of attempts to hide his obvious eavesdropping.

"Interesting name... so tell me kid, what do you know about what has happened to you..."

"He doesn't appear to remember anything sir..."

"THANK YOU ETHROS.... I think the boy can speak for himself.... you've got a tongue in that mouth of your dontcha kid? Well, speak for Christs sake!"

King winced at the harsh tone in this mans voice, the look in his eyes gave nothing away, it was clear that this man was pure steel and would not allow him to remain silent a moment longer. He tried to choose his words carefully

"Well... sir.... I don't know much, and I don't care to know. Its obvious you have went to a lot of effort for me, but I never asked for this, I never wanted this.... I want you to take me home.... people will be looking for me, you can't hold me hear against my will..."

Sensing that the new recruit was starting to panic, the hardened man broke his demeanor, and placed a reassuring hand on his charges forhead.

"Get some rest kid, we've got a long way to go now, there aint no turning back..."

Almost instantaneuosly the adrenaline that had previously began to build up in his veins subsided, and the need to sleep crept back over him.

As he began to drift off, he caught wind of himself for a second, and spoke.

"You never told me where we are and what your name is..."

The man seemed thrown by the calmness in the previously agitated boys voice.

"Well, this is the HvCft Nobility, and i'm its Captain. My name..... is Xeroth."

Message Edited by kingcaw on 09-15-2005 11:36 AM
Message edited by king on 09/15/2005 02:36:47.

**king**

2.2: Nobility (Chapter Two)

King sat back, quiety observing his haggared captain as he rifled his way through an old box of junk. He had never asked him his age, and while it was obvious that years of duty had left him battle-worn, his eyes still sparkeled with youth.

"Ha, found the little b*stards... Remwal, load these badboys up will ya!"

Xeroth turned with a grin and spoke

"Right kid, your goin on the ride of your life!"

"I don't understand sir, what are those disks?"

"These mboy, are your training programs; now we're running on a godd*mn pittance, so this is the best we got, but it'll be enough to make sure you don't get your *CENSORED* severely whupped!"

Xeroth jumped up from his seat and strutted his way over to Remwal. The ships operator was busy sorting through the training disks. Blowing away layers of dust, he proudly held up the Combat Training program, which was labelled with a scrawl not too dissimilair to the handwritting of a child.

"I think we'll go with this one first king" he exclaimed; "Now, buckle up, this is gonna be a little bumpy!"

His mind buzzed with energy, his body; electrified. He had been on the receiving end of over 7 hours of numerous training sequences, each one more intense than the other, but rather than feeling tired, he felt more alive than ever before. And then it happened...

Searing pain shot through his left temple and jolted across to his right. He didn't move, didn't make a sound, as the combat protocol faded out of sight and were replaced with a distant blur. In his minds eye he tried to focus, but it continued slipping further and further out of view. Suddenly, without warning, he was in a nightclub.

"I'm impressed, once again we were right about you..." rasped an all-too familiar voice from across the room. He had been hearing that very same voice each and every night since the day he was unplugged, except this time, it was different. No longer was he recalling the visit in the warehouse, no longer was he seeing the same figure, clothes head to toe in red leather. He was not dreaming, he was in the presence of a Watchman.

"We have been waiting for you King, we knew you wouldn't let us down."

"How.... how are you here? Are you part of the training?"

The woman let out a stifled giggle.

"Oh King, you still have so much to learn. I assume by now Captain Xeroth has filled you in on the little 3-way dance going on in The Matrix?"

She was right, every day for the 2 weeks he had been 'Awakened', Xeroth had taken it upon himself to remind him of the struggle between Zion, the Machines, and the Exiles.

"So who, or what are you then?" King asked.

"More important than that," the woman replied; "Is WHY are we? Why are we here, why do we exist, what is our purpose?"

Sensing that those were rhetorical questions preluding an explanation, King stopped himself from interupting.

"We are the Code of Awakened Watchmen. We serve the Merovingian, however we do not fight his fight. We are the darkness, the shadow in the corner of your eye, the creak in your floorboards, the voice in the distance.
We watch each and every living soul both inside and outside of the Matrix. We know everything there is to know, because that is our purpose, that is our duty"

"So whats so special about me? Why visit me?"

"You are destined for bigger things that this King, you are not to be doomed to a life of eternal servitude in the bondage of Zion, you are merely beginning a path that will lead you into the welcoming arms of the Merovingian cause."

King searched for a retort. Of course he was Zion through and through, it was zion who had freed him, Zion who fed him, who clothes him, who sheltered him about their ships... but somewhere buried in the back of his mind, he knew. He could see it. He knew he was not long for Zion, he knew that this was not his purpose... but he dared not think on it any further.

"You have time, don't worry King, you have plenty of time. When your destiny comes knocking, you will hear the call, and you will know what to do... Godspeed KingCAW...."

Within an instant, his mind filled with nothingness, and with a flash of brilliant light, he was back on the ship.

"Man... that was crazy..." he exclaimed, as he looked over to Remwal, who was obviously exhuberant over watching this boy becoming a fully trained man.

"Whoa.... I think i'm gonna puke..."

King's stomach was turning, the mental image of his old reliable Toshiba washing machine swirling round and round and round and... he needed to get to the bathroom...

He sped down the hall, completely forgetting where the bathroom was from sheer disorientation, he made his way towards a small iron-wraught door which, in the panic, he never realised he hadn't opened before... he desperately grasped at the handle and burst in...

"I told you don't worry, its being dealt with... we're almost done, I just need time to speak to some of the old hands back in Zion... no, no, don't pass this on to someone else, you know why I want to do this... I won't let you down... Agent Matthews"

He saw the figure crouched in the corner, the familiar grey hair interuppted only by a dusty old headset, yet this was not the man he knew, this was not the man he recognised, this couldn't be Xeroth... talking to an... Agent?!

All of a sudden his disbelief was overtaken by the returning feelings of sickliness, he turned to try and make his way back out without being seen, but it was too late. He dropped to his feet and vomited all over the floor.

Xeroth jumped up, kicking the transmitter as he did so and swiftly throwing his headset off.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!" He demanded, completely disregarding Kings inability to speak through his retching and the steady flow of vomit forcing its way out of his mouth...

"I mean.... what can I do for you soldier? Did you hear anything while you were in here?"

King wiped his mouth. He fought back the urge to confront this turncoat, this traitor... he thought better of it.

"No sir, I was walking to my dorm and suddenly felt sick, I thought this was the bathroom and spewed as soon as I opened the door."

"Good... I mean... are you OK?" This friendliness was unbecoming of Captain Xeroth, and he was unaware that King knew why.

"Yes sir" King lied.

"Well, best be getting back to your room, I'll bring you some meds straight away. Need to get you back on your feet, theres still a long way to go son!"

King looked his captain straight in the eyes, the usual steely yet welcoming gaze had turned to one of panic and uncertaintly. He could not believe that this man, who chastised the machines so excrutiatingly was working with them, or for them. With a softened voice, King spoke...

"Yes sir, I believe we have. And i'm looking forward to it already."

**king**

3.1: Into The Light (Chapter One)

Xeroth... it had been so long since he'd heard that name... not long enough evidentaly...

And now, the disgraced captain had imposed his existence into Kings life once again.

The war in Zion had torn the city apart... unfortunately, it had also torn open one particular location... Zion's incarceration unit...

'Prisoner X0806 - Missing'

King had been staring at the transmission for what seemed an eternity... his past... all he had worked to bury... now freshly dug up and on the verge of catching up with him....

He had long since forced the memory of his captains betrayal... the part he had played in his arrest... the Code of Awakened Watchmen... all of it.... out of his mind, out of his life. His new family, the Guardians Of Light... they wouldn't understand... the ignorant politicians of Zion masked Xeroths treachory to save face for it going unnoticed for so long... if his captain knew.... he he found out that King had caused the arrest of a man everyone had held in such high regard... his life as he knew it would be over.

Days passed with King bearing this burden... it was worsening... his fleet-mates came back to the Real daily with reports of an unknown individual contacting them... harrassing them... poisoning their minds with the "truth" about the 'real' kingCAW...

The dreams were returning too... with a vengeance they burned into his mind... the crest... "Her".... they ate at his subconscious with every moment that passed... compelling him towards... towards... his head seared with pain... every time he mentally tried to reach out... to grasp that goal... to see the purpose of these dreams, they whitewashed into nothingness, leaving a bitterly painful after-taste.

Darkness...

King lost himself in it... his eyes began to visualise what his mind could salvage from these nightly visits into his head... into his soul...

Silence...

The silence was deafening... No mechanical grinding... no chattering of crew-mates... eerie still that enveloped the room... the entire ship... was he awake? Was he dreaming.... was he..... dead?

He lifted himself from his prone state, every movement amplifying the aches that had set in to his fatigued bones... walking through his pitch-black room, he opened the door and made his way down the corridor.

He saw the coded screens... flickering with their usual flurry of Matrix code... same as normal.... but this was not normal... not normal at all.... a shadow cast against the light... his rubbed his eyes and strained to focus... he wished he hadn't...

The figure was all too familiar...

"Well King... its about d*mn time you lazy son of a b*tch!"

King's blood ran cold, rooted to the spot by an uncontrollable fear he gasped for breath... breath enough to force himself into speaking... stammering...

"....Xeroth?!"

The answer didn't come... although it wasn't needed... the second King saw the figure of his former captain he knew... the truth was only now nailed firmly into place, as a sickening blow stuck him across the face, throwing him towards the floor.

He felt hands gripping him firmly around the ankles, pulling and twisting... dragging him across the rough, dirty flooring...

He felt his limp body being hoisted up... such strength for such an old man... he tried to move, but his body betrayed him... he tried to speak but the words didn't come.... prone, helpless and vlunerable, Xeroth threw King's flacid form into a chair... pulling firmly on the adorning lever... King knew this chair all too well.... a Jack-In terminal...

Glancing sideways, King saw that Xeroth was frantically fiddling with something... a silver contraption... sloppily butchered together... was this it? Was this Kings time to die?

He lay for what seemed like hours... only he knew Xeroth... he knew that patience was not in his nature.... that if whatever he was setting up was taking too long, he would choose the quicker and easier option of flat-out murder instead...

Was this his punishment? Should he have given Xeroth a chance? Heard him out? Should he have...

His train of thought cut abruptly... life thrust itself into his body at high-velocity... the jack-in node rammed firmly into his cranial socket... and then darkness...

For the split-second he remained conscious... King knew this wasn't right... he had jacked in a thousand times... never had it felt like this... one thing he did know.... this wasn't going to be pretty.

**king**

3.2: Into The Light (Chapter Two)

Darkness... it consumes me... lying in wait...

Their crimes will not go unpunished....

My hands stained with the blood of the fallen...

My soul stained for eternity...

"King has betrayed us all!"

What right have they to inflict this burden?

What right have they to enslave my spirit?

A prisoner of choice,

The irony is stifling...

"His treachery will not go unpunished!"

Their ignorance will be their downfall...

Struggling to find purpose...

The weak of mind will crumble...

The strong of soul will flourish...

"You will pay... you will ALL pay for his crimes against me!"

Friends the closest enemies...

Hidden lines drawn in the sand...

Betrayers of humanity unite...

Under a banner of false pretences...

"He betrayed his ship... he betrayed his captain... he betrayed Zion!"

What direction now?

What path leads into virtue?

Or is this my personal hell...

To escape nevermore...

"Zero-One will fall... the Matrix will fall... and you will ALL die!"

I will not stand idley by...

King...

I will not follow their path...

Oh King...

I will not walk blindly to my death...

Are you listening to me you dumb sonofab*tch?

I will not slaughter my conscience...

Very touching... now if you don't mind? You're giving me a godd*mn headache!

...Xeroth?

The one and only...

Kings eyes twitched as he took a sharp intake of breathe... where was he? What had happened?

My My My... your mind is f*cked up...

Was he dreaming?

Have to say... its rather spacious in here!

Was he dead?

No dumbass, you're not dead... not yet anyway... its only a matter of time... only a few more kilometres until we reach the border...

What?...What are you saying? Xeroth...

You didn't think i'd let you go unpunished now do you?

Unpunished? Xeroth... what have you done?!

Zero-One baby! I always wanted to go there... and now I get my wish... Just a good job your EMP is fully charged...

Through the vast nothingness King felt a rush to the pit of his stomach... Xeroth was going to take them out... take them all out... he was bringing down the Matrix... and all who were in it...

Thats right sonny... Boy you know you think too much, its deafening! I'm trying to work here!

Work?

A maniacal laughter filled his senses...

Of course Son, what do you think i'm doing inside here... I.... am you....

...

Well... for all intents and purposes... I'm having a little fun dragging your flacid carcass around the Megacity... you're friends all die too easily... i'm almost enjoying myself...

Xeroth... stop... you don't know what you're doing...

I mean... I couldn't resist getting a ringside seat... I couldn't miss being inside the Matrix when it implodes.... its amazing what technology can do these days...

You.... you've taken my mind?

Nothing like a little cranial hitch-hiking to brighten up the day, wouldn't you say "King"?

You... you've taken my body?

Oh shush.... i'm gonna take a helluva lot more than that... its almost time...

No.... I won't.... I can't....

What are you going to do you limp b*tch?! I own your *ss now!

NO! Xeroth.... STOP!

Make me you p*ssy...

Kings mind clouded over... his senses pulsated as his fist clenched tighly on the arms of the chair he lay slumped in on the real...

Every inch of his body burned violently.... his head seared with a blistering pain unlike anything he had every felt... his ever memory... every experience... every thought... sped through his mind's eye at lightening pace...

King.... what are you doing?!

His family... his friends... his childhood... his loves.... his losses.... he happiness... pain... anger... joy...

KING!!!!!!!!!!!

His rebirth... Zion... the treachery... the truth... the watchmen... the future...

KING YOU MOTHERFU-

...Silence.

~~~~~~~~~~

"King?"

"King... are you awake?"

"Welcome back sir... you've been gone a long time..."

**king**

((I'd just like to extend a warm hand of thanks to whoever took the time out of kindergarten to one-star all of my posts in this thread.

It's thrilling that someone's time and effort can mean so little to the more narrow-minded members of our community - the individuals who can barely construct a sentance, let alone attempt to write their own fiction, or even a thread to express the true reasons they decide to become such a scab on the arse of society.

So, here's to ya *cheers* ))

**GamiSB**

((arr never fear maty CAW gami the 5 star bandit will boost ya up a bit.))

-GamiSB the 5 star bandit/pirate

**-CheshireCat**

((Ouch that stinks that someone would do that. I like the story so far, so five stars across the board. ::grins:: Hope that helps.))

NadaIsAngry

((You were right when you said that the 1 star ratings sucked!

Come on folks - vote on the content not who wrote it - it helps nothing to do that, and you're enflaming a situation which potentially could have ended by now... 5 stars here too King - it's nicely written.

Keep 'em coming...))

Phunkyfella

((Gah, what the hell! Lets get it all the way up.. You know it makes sense.. By the way. Loving the story amigo.))

**Procurator**

(( I would five-star them as well, as I'm always looking forward to the next instalment, but I've turned ratings off. I wish everyone would. ))

**king**

3.3: Into The Light (Chapter 3)

Sirens... wailing like a choir of banshee's in the night... reverberating off the cold walls of the HvCft Tomorrow... searing through his mind like a bullet through butter...

It must be Tuesday...

Drill day... same as clockwork... although should the Sentinals ever track down this ship, King doubted they would give us advance notice... check if we had next Tuesday free... still, stupidity breeds stupidity. A Zionists Creedo...

Not that it matter what day it was... every day was the same as the one before, and a harbinger of the one to come...

His head still throbbed from its recent intrusion... another consciousness clashing with his own...

Recent? Well... two months... his physical wounds in the real had long since healed over, yet the scars on his mind raged as fresh as the day they were cast...

The story of Xeroths daring escape into the real... his single-handed hijacking of the Good Ship Tomorrow... his ingenius in syphoning Kings jack-in router... and his eventual glorius downfall...

All regergetated like a bad meal, presented on a platter daily for all to hear...

Evil is certainly infectious... Fame is fleeting yet infamy... that is everlasting...

Through his malice... his tyrannical actions... Xeroth had became a Marytr for a purpose that nobody agreed with, yet everyone was itching do lament over... he had became a hero in the eyes of those whose minds denied his heroism... who scorned him bitterly with sugar-tinted words...

Hypocrytes... Every last godd*amn one of them...

Was this mind still not his own?

Was the shadow of Xeroth embedded in his subconsience?

Or had this latest episode presented him with a much-needed moment of clarity... to realise... to understand... that the time had come to leave the bondage of Zion...

The very word made his blood boil...

Zion... the biblical city of David... captured by this conquering Israelite King for the benefit of all his people... made holy by a prophecy that it would one day again become a place where an almighty King shall once more recapture, for the good of all mankind...

Somehow, he thought, this is not what 'David' had in mind... his legacy scorched by todays representation of Zion... todays bureacracy of Zion, the politics, the hyprocracy...

His face tightened as he mused over the increasing Zionist population... these sewer-rats.... these cave-dwellers...

The naive and fanciful among them bowed down to two men... 'Neo' and 'Morpheus'... both of them dead... both of them marytrs to a false cause... to a false prophecy... the forgers of this material truce... such hero's... such figureheads....

Those who scorned these beliefs were no better... instead, taking orders from a woman too afraid to jack in to the Matrix, and a man who had no experience of the very world in which he was attempting to exert his control... his militia mindset... was this humanity?! Was THIS freedom?!

What is freedom?

Will we ever truely be free?

The only freedom lies in the mind, not in the body...

Plugged in to the Matrix, his body was imprisoned, yet his mind knew nothing of it...

Released into the pits of Zion... his body was free, but his mind, his spirit, his soul... that was Zionite property now...

Not for much longer...

It was time to leave.

Message Edited by kingcaw on 10-06-2005 08:49 PM
Message edited by king on 10/06/2005 11:49:24.

**king**

4.2: The Code (Chapter Two)

Recall the Code....

Beleive in the Code

There is no other Truth...

~~~~~~~~~

Truth.

The truth was... there was no ultimate truth...

Yet they embroached the closest version...

The digital playground was theres to embrace... exiles from Machines and Zion alike... cast aside by those who they trusted... or merely lost souls combined in a common bind...

There was no escaping the Matrix... so what to do now?....

Make the most of it... profit.... embellish the fruits of the Machinists labours...

Be a King amongst mere mortals...

The Code requests it.

~~~~~~~~~

King awoke with a gasp, overcome with sudden panic... where was he?! How did he get here?

His grip tightened on his bedsheets as he strained to see through the darkness... struggled to regain his senses...

It trickled into his memory like a leaking tap... escaping the clutches of Zion... wandering in the sewers and maintenance pipes... the dream... the Code... Her...

The CodeMason Fleet... his new home aboard the HvCft Discordia...

It had been almost a year since he switched his affiliations to the Frenchman...yet every morning began with a the same confusion... the same drain of his past... the same lack of memory... his headaches were becoming ever more frequent... his dillusions, more violent... more intense...

It was these same episodes which led him into the arms of The CodeMasons...

These episodes... where "She" made her presence felt... never aging a day... looking as beautiful and as radiant as the day he first saw her... the day she shaped his life forever... the day the Awakened Watchman intervened and emblazoned themselves onto the blueprint of his mind...

Why?

Why him?

What was their purpose?

What was Kings purpose?

Panic subsiding, a warm ray of relaxation washed all over his body... clarity emptying his thoughts of all trauma's and tribulations... one aim... one motto... one faith....

Recall The Code,

Beleive In The Code,

There Is No Other Truth.

Message Edited by kingcaw on 10-06-2005 09:22 PM
Message edited by king on 10/06/2005 12:22:35.