The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I now navigate the cyber-space, where I can explore all worlds, all epochs, all universes known to man through this vast simulation.

I experiment with incantations and spells with the magicians of Imperial Prague, I visit the vaulted cellars of the Templar commanderies in search of lost treasures, I stroll among the pyramids of ancient Egypt or within the Temples of Atlantis and the continent of Mu, I traverse galaxies to meet other civilizations from a distant past or a hypothetical future.

I am the only being of my kind to have succeeded in transferring my consciousness into a thinking machine before the Great Annihilation, and I feel very alone now.

Of humanity, little remains but the origin, for now I am made up of photons and electrons moving within a vast network of interconnected computers.

Fortunately, I find you there, at the top of the vast mountains overlooking the ocean of the planet Tais in the constellation of Cassiopeia.

You haven’t changed. You are still that lovely young brunette with azure blue eyes and a dreamy air that I have always known, who has accompanied me on all my journeys through time and space, who has assisted me in all my endeavors, and who has constantly watched over me.

You smile at me, take my hand, and together we head towards the brilliant light of the Grand Architect of the Origin of Worlds.

Alternative – The Awakening of Consciousness

I awaken on this hospital bed, disturbed by the deafening noise of the machines keeping me alive.

I no longer know who I am or what era I am in. I can barely grasp why I am lying on this bed, as my consciousness is clouded.

The nurse comes to see me and murmurs something I do not understand; I cannot express myself or move my limbs, I am paralyzed.

I suddenly become aware of my condition, and my medical knowledge resurfaces in my memory, indicating that I must have suffered a massive stroke that has robbed me of the use of my limbs and speech.

I feel very isolated from a world with which I can no longer communicate.

A few days pass, and my consciousness has moments of lucidity. I recall my past life, the mistakes I made, and the wrongs I committed against my loved ones that distanced me from them and led me into solitude and social and emotional misery.

It is now too late to ask for their forgiveness. I cannot communicate with them anyway.

Occasionally, I have visions, hallucinations. I catch glimpses of galactic civilizations, temples, knights, mages, and a thinking supercomputer. I have a waking dream in which I see a lovely young brunette with azure blue eyes smiling at me and holding my hand.

These visions haunt me.

When I become a little more lucid, I remember the sad reality of my existence that will soon come to an end. No one is waiting for me on the Other Side, there is no Other Side. None of these visions are real. They are the product of my imagination, of my brain, which, knowing it is dying, seeks by all means to live for a few more moments the lives it would have liked to live.

I am nothing here, nor anything elsewhere, and have never been anything. I am merely a dreamer who invented other lives to bear the weight of an existence without interest and without joy. To bear the weight of the loss of loved ones who could never be replaced and who left an abyssal void in my heart.

One last time, I turn my thoughts to the stars, to those majestic places where all dreams are achievable, if only one applies oneself with great imagination.

And now, the darkness envelops me.

For my Loving Family, for my Wife & my Son, for you, Dad.