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10.3.2017 - A mysterious light filled the Sea of Skies. Those who wielded great power and abilities found themselves back at square one, as if reset.

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A human cannot fathom the absolute. The objective, unforgiving laws of reality are often warped by our own perspective.

There is a parable of prisoners with fixed necks, whom gaze at a blank wall before them. Behind them, there is a low walkway and, even further, a fire. When people pass with their various objects, a shadow is cast upon the wall, which their eyes are fixed upon.
This is their reality, and without further knowledge of the world around them, this is where their society stems. Prestige would be given to those who could understand the shadows and their patterns. An innate hierarchy would be established.

The experiment held a similar fate, imprisoned in a cage, however, unlike the aforementioned society, solitude was his only mistress. And what a cruel bitch she was.

There are many diseases, and mental ailments, which afflict the human mind, but there is not a single one that causes a desire for absolute isolation. There is a reason solitary confinement has undergone extensive debate.
Humanity is placed along various points among the spectrum of introvert and extravert, however, there is always a primal desire to interact with another. At least, some of the time. With technology, a healthy distance can be maintained, while still allowing a person to express themselves around other like-minded, or accepting, individuals.

Any mundane human would have been driven insane by this conscious captivity, where they were left only to their thoughts for the entirety of their existence. Fortunately for the experiment, he had been gifted with an ability to project his mind into the world, while leaving his body behind.

He was able to play with the children, observe nature, and welcome strangers with the most approachable of introductions. Unfortunately, while projecting himself into the worlds, he could not physically interact, or speak, with the others.
WR-105's ability only extended his mind -- which wasn't even an image of himself. He was only an observer and, while it sedated his innate need to interact, he still craved an actual human experience. While his sense of sight and sound were satisfied, his sense of smell, taste, and touch, were not. He was all too familiar with the tubes that fed his body, keeping him alive, while also providing the necessary nutrients to keep him in shape, however, there was a pleasure in cracking the bones of a dead animal that tubes could not replicate.

There were unfulfilled, ancestral urges. The need to indulge in all facets were present; violence, sustenance, sex. But as a captive, he could only lend his imagination, waiting for the ever elusive circumstance where he could escape. He had tread the run down apartment many times, but to no avail. He could not make contact with the outside world, neither spiritually nor magically.

And it was so goddamned frustrating. WR-105 was left there, not only paralyzed and unable to escape, but also abandoned. He had apparently been a failed project. But instead of being set free, to traverse the worlds on his own and experience humanity at its best and worst, he was left in a cage, forgotten by the some narcissistic scientist who believed himself a god amongst the men he walked.
A god was not malicious, a god did not play with the lives of others without purpose. And what was the scientist's purpose? His own damned ego. He was no god. He was a devil wishing to stand above those he feared to be his equals -- his peers.

Another damned monkey, hoarding his fruit from those he considered underserving, while being unable to identify his own flea ridden, abominable reflection. Perhaps WR-105 had been subject to the human experience, a defiance swelling in the midst of his immobile body, waiting to claim the freedom he felt entitled.

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