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Dr. Rodriguez leaned over a console; her shoulders hunched from the weight of the ordeal. She scanned the data, anxiously checking the being’s health.
“It’s working,” she announced aloud, her voice trembling with joy. “Everything is as it should be.” Small, fragile tears glistened in the corners of her eyes, and a faint smile of relief emerged. As historic as this day was for humanity, for her, it was even more significant. The research of a lifetime culminated here and now, with a personal interest greater even than the resurrection of a ‘god.’
President Harper, her face set with steely determination, signaled for Dr. Rodriguez to continue. After verifying the instrument readings, the scientists began the awakening procedures again. This time, given that the previous reactions had shown the being was fully connected to its body, they would wake it gradually, aiming for a smoother understanding of its surroundings.
New chemicals entered the being’s system, slowly neutralizing the sedatives. After a few minutes, its eyelids opened once more, revealing eyes still clouded with disorientation. Its face was etched with discomfort at being back in its body. Its hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically, as it tried to acclimate to the sensations and pains of its muscles. Its breathing remained steady, and its gaze swept over the audience, who watched in awe. Terry straightened in his seat, a spark of hope emerging within him, while Ria leaned closer to him, grasping his arm, anxious and curious about what would happen next.
The being—the ‘Ancient,’ as the scientists called it—shifted its expression from one of confusion to a stern seriousness bordering on disdain. It seemed to grasp its surroundings and the events unfolding around it. Opening its mouth to speak, it was momentarily interrupted by a strong cough, expelling mucus instead of words. Murmurs spread through the room, only to be abruptly silenced by its second attempt. With a fierce glare, it let out a thunderous roar, filled with boundless anger. A protest followed, words in an incomprehensible language.
The structure of the language bore rhymes and rhythmic quality, similar to the recitation of verses.
Alexander adjusted his glasses, his pupils dilating as he listened. “It reminds me of ancient Middle Eastern dialects,” he shared, astonished, with his companions. “I’d need more time to analyze it, but phonetically, it’s similar to Sumerian or Akkadian.”
“There’s a rhythm to it, almost as if it’s reciting an epic or an invocation,” added Ria in surprise. “Its meter reminds me of ancient Greek poetry.”
“We might be hearing the first language ever spoken on this planet,” Terry mused aloud, “the foundation for all others that followed.”
As the Ancient continued to process its environment, it paused and looked deeply into Persa’s eyes for a moment. Her hands began to tremble, her breath became irregular, and suddenly, she broke into sobs!
The air around her shimmered. In the blink of an eye, the laboratory was swept away like an endless river of time, where its flow distorted reality. Memories swirled like fallen leaves caught in the currents. Persa found herself transported through the veils of time, back to cherished chapters of her past. She could relive the moments as though it were the first time, while also feeling the emotions of those who had shared in those memories.
In that fleeting instant when the being’s gaze locked with Persa’s, a profound connection was formed—one that transcended the physical realm and delved into the timeless expanse of the spiritual plane. The brief second in the tangible world translated into hours within the intricate corridors of her mind. Time in this spiritual realm unfolded differently from the linear progression experienced in the physical world. It was a place where moments remained eternal, each memory crystallized in its own temporal stance. She felt her body relax, becoming ethereal, immersed in the flood of memories.
She recalled her childhood, a canvas painted with the vibrant colors of family, love, and the bittersweet resonance of her mother’s presence.
Her mother, with eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled, wasn’t tall—perhaps of average height—but her presence filled every space. Slim and graceful, she was accentuated by an ever-present sweet smile that adorned her face. In Persa’s memory, her mother was forever thirty-one, the age she remembered her most. A scientist who had willingly left behind a thriving career to embrace the profound responsibilities of motherhood.
The memories began with the warmth of her early years, cradled by the familial bonds that formed the foundation of her identity. She relived the echoes of evenings spent around the family table, with the aroma of home-cooked meals wafting through the air. The sound of her mother’s laughter, the comforting touch of her father’s hand, and the playful teasing with her brother painted a canvas of a happy life. Persa’s heart ached with a mixture of joy and sorrow as the vivid memories wrapped her in their warmth.
She saw herself nestled beside her mother, comparing her small hands with hers. Hours-long hikes where her mother pointed out constellations in the night sky, weaving stories of brave princes and dragons. In the embrace of her mind, Persa revisited places of stories whispered to her before bed in the quiet of the night. The gentle guidance of her mother’s hand that safely led her through the complexities of growing up. Though distant in the physical world, these memories lived within her like treasured relics, testifying to irreplaceable moments.
Then, reaching the zenith of her temporal exploration, the shadows came. The sterile hospital room became her new reality, and the familiar scent of home was replaced by the sharp smell of antiseptic. Her mother, a beacon amidst the storm, slowly dimmed with each passing day. A raw punch of emotion. Persa relived the last memory she had of her, clutching her hand, making promises she couldn’t keep. Even in her weakened, pale state, her mother’s undying smile and loving gaze filled her with love until the very end.
The hushed conversations with the doctors and the echo of the final beep from the heart monitor plunged her into a void that swallowed everything. Persa felt her body shrink, the weight of loss pulling her into darkness.
She could only hear the muffled thuds of her own heartbeat and breathing, as if submerged underwater. An existential terror slowly crept over her, making it seem as though she had been there for endless hours. She curled into a fetal position, hugging herself, the cold darkness seeping into her bones.
Then, the formless void transformed into a celestial tapestry, where galaxies swirled in a cosmic dance. Like a star growing larger as it approached, a radiant figure emerged, a silhouette glowing with an otherworldly light. The Ancient, a manifestation of light and energy, stood before Persa as a transcendent entity, its outlines shifting like liquid sunlight. Though she had no reference points or sense of direction for up or down, Persa rose and stood before it. Its towering size, twice her own, made her feel like a child gazing up at an adult.
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