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DamnGlitch

[story] Victory as Viewed by Pink Eyes

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I'm not sure what he was thinking at the time. Hell, I'm not even sure he was thinking when he did it. This abuse against man, this destruction of Eden. Are we really so powerful that we can destroy perfection?

 

Or maybe, perfection is so weak that it it can be created by the imperfect and destroyed by the individual. Apex was by no means perfect. Neither am I. Though I love Gabe... he is not nearly perfect, no matter what sort of time Apex put into him. We have no right to take over in a matter of decades after millions of years of natural evolution have made man dominant. To be stronger does not make us the superior being, it simply means we are better at destruction and honestly, that is not something to be proud of. Man's ability to create us if proof of his superiority.

 

But then, in thinking they could control us, they proved yet again their unceasing arrogance. The idea that their greatest creation could be controlled undermines the concept of a better being.

 

So then, what are we? We could be the next generation, inheriting the Earth by means of our firepower. Or, we might be divine punishment for the arrogance man has displayed.

 

Gabe has given us a third choice. He has simultaneously destroyed our Eden and their Eden, leaving us with... normalcy? Is this what we have gained? The power of God is in his hands and he has neither raised nor lowered anyone. He has made everyone equal. It is not the equality that Apex dreamed of, which wasn't really equality but universal inequality. It is not the ascension of the BioSuit that Mother idealized. People will live as they are. BioSuits will fade away, and life as the planet knows it will slowly return to normal.

 

All Gabe fought for was what he thought was right. He didn't idealize, he didn't mean to serve the greater good. He just took bad people who were overstepping their bounds and put them in their place. The son became the father and showed the world his true strength.

 

As I lay here, holding together my insides with my hands and shear force of will, I can see him on the other end of the battlefield, hair blowing in the wind, the Apocalypse Gun pointed in the air. His battle is done. The waves of conflicting emotions wash over him and he finally takes in the entirety of the situation. He faces me, and he sees my torn flesh and blood matted green locks. The look on his face tells me all I'll ever need to know by way of how he feels about me.

 

Together, we face this new century. He takes me in his arms and we gaze into our future.

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