GuNNhead

I’ve always been lonely, never finding anyone I could feel connected to on earth, I set out to simply connect with my own agendas, to search for more.

They way people described the connections they had with others always made me know that I lacked a certain propensity to connect with another human on this described level. The fervor of certainty towards another simply seemed distant and impossible to reach. I know there are those who have not felt this fervor, but I knew my situation went beyond that. The way that others felt it did not make me desire it; it created a cold and distant gap between me and those who did feel it. After a while, I realized that the connections that people had were anchors, but I was one of the few chosen ones, ones unable to be chained by a connection to another. Perhaps it is the media that creates the delusions of these feelings in others, or perhaps it is just how people are: inexplicable. No matter, it is now far too late for that.

My first flight in my craft resulted in a crash landing in the middle of a town. It made the news, and created a media frenzy. Luckily, I was able to take off again without exiting the craft. Unluckily, it was not fast enough to avoid the multitude of news vans swarming the site, reporting on the scene, live. They caught my take off and subsequent crash landing in the forest hills outside of town. It was there that I was stranded for a pair of days while search teams were sent. On the television monitors aboard my craft, I saw the sensationalism expand over the weekend. Supposed experts of all sorts coming out of the woodwork, speculating on the type of craft, the type of creature who pilots it, and even attempts to calculate where in the universe it came from via trajectory. All were completely false, of course. I am just a man who feels no connections. For lack of facts, they created their own news, and it was histrionic sensationalism. Reports went on for hours with nothing concrete; it was a parade of fools masquerading as information for the masses. Is anybody else aware of it? I wonder.

On the first night, knowing via this media spectacle that the search parties were supposedly close doubled my night ardency, and I was able to fix my craft before the location of my craft was discovered the next day. Swiftly and silently, my craft took to the air; I hovered close to the ground before rocketing up into the stratosphere. I returned to my hangar the following night. The television stations all settled upon their own agendas for the truth of my craft, and within a few days when the ratings began to wane for the tales of the craft from the void above, there was something new to report on, featuring this weekend.

Our men have been working around the clock to solve the problem we’ve been having with time. Studying the time carefully, we’re trying to devise a way to even out and ensmoothen the flow of time. Using our technology we have been able to create a passage of time between these two parties. In our limited experiments, we’ve been able to provide those without enough time with the time they require directly from those with time on their hands with this passage. Time marches on, however, and despite our success in these isolated, contained experiments, our funding will be cut soon, just before we are able to fully unravel the mystery of the dimension known as time. It is with great excitement as well as great fear, then, that I have given the order to expand our experiment to the entire compound. We will effectively be syphoning time from the entire outside world, if the experiment succeeds, that is.

It has been weeks now, and the experiments are not working as planned inside of the Time-Syphon. The entire lab personnel have long since noticed that their metabolic cycle has completely shut down, and that no one has grown any hair since the machine was turned on around the compound. It seems after a lot of commotion outside of the protective time shield, the compound has long since been forgotten about. We are surrounded completely by nature and foliage that blocks our view of the distant cities we could once see.

Though we still continued our experiments for years, we eventually began to realize that our goal is impossible, and since we set the completion detector to sense when we had accomplished our task to unravel the secret of time, the syphon completely halted time here in the compound, and sapped so much time from the world itself to create infinite time, or, rather, as near to infinite it can get to by syphoning all of the surrounding time. After seeing the world become completely dried out and eventually destroyed around our sole encapsulated area at what felt like 8 years, we began a betting pool as to whether us and our sapper would become a black hole or not, though, due to such a strong leaning towards the former, there was a bonus jackpot for correctly determining how long it would take.

The man races down the dark and winding concrete stairs. His mind is filled with hundreds of thoughts and ideas, contradicting, flowing, developing, and bombarding him with the futility of it all. Everything has been going wrong, and the complications were compounding too quickly to create any sort of swift solutions for before the problem at hand was no longer relevant. The entire undertaking was looking like an encyclopaedia of failure. One that could end with all of humanity turned to ash.

When it all began the project was utterly pregnant with possibilities. The initial discovery sent the scientific world into great revelry, and soon all of the hopeful tests and examinations of the top minds in the world began. Soon it was discovered how to use this new project to the benefit of mankind, world hunger could be solved, and complete sustainability was fully within reach. With this plan of the Delicate Sphere, life on this world was dramatically altered for the better. People felt freedom, they truly felt it for many years, and the transition period was minimal, as everything was bountiful, even good humours.

Nobody knows what exactly went wrong or when, only that all those who were hungry could no longer survive on the food they so appreciated. At this point, however, the plan of the Delicate Sphere was already fully integrated into the world’s crops and soil. The air itself was as clean and clear as science could find it, and there was nothing inherently or genetically wrong in any way with the food or water, but almost all humans could not breathe easily, become quenched, or attain nourishment.

There was something entirely unearthly at play in this scenario. The man knew it now, he finally has it all figured out. Bursting into the sealed room at the end of the stairs, he stumbles over some loose papers and notes, dropping his own, but it was not of any importance. He continues to rush to the room at the back where the others have been gathered for him to unveil his discovery. Arriving in the room, he stands behind the podium, a screen behind him.

“Are you all tired of being men with Delicate Sphere problems? You can solve it all naturally and easily! If disease attacks and you can’t find defence: All you need is in one place!”

He explains to his peers that the reason billions have been dying by ingesting the Spherically altered products is because the problem of the Delicate Sphere was one of a solution to what mankind has always dealt with. Mankind has learned that when they are hungry, to eat, and when they are thirsty, to drink, and when they need air, to breathe, but the Sphere has changed what was. What was is now what is making them perish. What is the fact that they kept eating to no longer feel their former hunger is what made them starve to death, and what is the fact that they kept drinking to quench their former thirst is what made them die of dehydration.

“We have finally overcome the need to even breathe”, the man ends his presentation with, as he opens his shirt to reveal to his colleagues the noose he had hung himself with the week prior, after giving up hope on finding the solution to the problem of the Delicate Sphere.