MINERVA - read-only archives

Answer me this, Firedrake: If not humanity, then who else? We, who would have been rendered inconsequential, are capable of far more than you give us credit for. It was humanity that threw off the occupying forces. It was humanity who brought down the source of their power. It was us, humanity, who freed ourselves from the yoke of the tyranny of evil men and it is humanity who shepards our brothers and sisters through the valley of darkness! If not us, then who else?

Who are you to judge us, Firedrake? What are you? You speak as an outsider, as different, above, beyond. We know even less of you than we do of Our Lady, yet you presume to question our place? Why should we believe yet another shadow?

Threw off our shackles to what end?

And was it us alone who did it?

One will be answered by time, the other may never be. Although it may be speculated on to no end

Ah yes. The masses that needed an awkward, clueless Avatar to be on their tracks. A manufactured symbol to learn their place anew.

The so-called Free Man.

You owe him everything. And you owe him even less. He's not nearly half the man he seems.

But how does any of this concern you? What claims does your pathetic existence, counted in minutes, in the heart of a burrowed island, have to any such luxurious flights of fancy?

You? Resourceful? Commanding? Free?

You, the pathetic wretches that allowed themselves to be caught by their alien masters and now live only by the indulgence of an entity whose motives you ignore?

I laugh, and I am merry, for you have no idea what levels of power your Avatar has stirred. A single city falls, and you cry victory?

If those thoughts comfort you, in your now last moments, lost in the centre of a clinically violent fortress. If those thoughts push you on while your battered body and suit still lasts you. If those thoughts mean more flesh seared from flesh, more gristle crushed, more beautiful self-destruction, then by all means, carry on.

Carry on, little one. There are still many more winding corridors to this final labyrinth.

Know now that the short existence She gave to you, like a mayfly’s, unknowable, was livelier than your past one.

But know also, that you really have no clue who your kind are dealing with.

1. Sanity is an approximation of statistical conformity to a larger peer groups behavior.

Ref: Both Piranhas and Sharks are considered Sane when engaged in contra-survival behavior, including those behaviors which resemble cannibalistic orgiastic frenzies. Sheep are considered insane for conducting themselves in similar patterns of behavior.

Addendum: Minerva's peer group observers a wide range of behaviors, making statistical comparisons for a value approximating 1.0 or even standard deviation meterics problematic.

2. Arguments about the cognitive set of test subjects are pointless and reveal more about those arguing than about those being tested.

Addendum: Test subjects are either satisfactory or unsatisfactory, according to their ability to navigate the problems of the test data set for which they have been selected. These existential qualities are best measured during test subject performance, or by applying previously substantiated test subject winnowing matrixes. Emotive reactions to assumptions of future poor performance engage Black box type paradoxes which are non-optimal for relevant data evaluation.

Another player.

Methodic, glacial, inhuman.

This sandbox's detonation will be a colourful one.

remember Alcolyte Firedrake, you are an ant in the sandbox with the rest of us

I am.

I'm the winged one.

Your wings are but a mental image of yoursefl, a perfection of the imperfect mortal.

Ahh, but winged one, where would you fly to when all is destroyed? your wings will get tired eventually.


***TRANSMISSION INTERRUPT***
Despair...
Rage...
Envy...
Aye
Mak
Sicur

probablility here? such a measure is not in existence in the situation of these... acolytes.
consider yourselves fortunate, those so willing and able, to have knoledge of the "opener of the way"... for his actions have not yet come to pass on your plane of what you consider exisence. consider yourselves fortunate to have such an icon of hope to look to... unless of course you have made the realization that the one free man is incapable of his romantic deeds without direct vorticular intervention. surely minerva, or one of her cohorts... excuse me, collegues, could explain the vortigaunt influence to her acolytes, albeit in some cryptic tongue that most would interpret incorrectly anyway.

Truly an ant with its wings, or the maggot who becomes a fly?