Emory's gaze fixated on the colossal book before him, its weighty presence dominating the otherwise barren expanse of the Endless. Seating himself cross-legged, he leaned forward, propping his chin on his fist, lost in contemplation as he studied the ancient record. In this vast nothingness, only he and the tome existed.
"Don't talk," Emory murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the vast silence. "Feel."
His words hung in the air, a whispered mantra to guide his understanding as he attempted to commune with the record and hopefully gain access to the knowledge held within the book that stood before him.
Emory's eyelids descended, enveloping him in darkness as he sought once more to heed his own advice and "feel." Yet, despite his efforts, a sense of emptiness lingered, and the record a silent sentinel of knowledge remained stoically unyielding as if mocking him. Frustration crept into Emory's sigh as he grappled with the elusive concept of communicating without words.
"It's a living thing for crying out loud!" he mused aloud, his voice tinged with exasperation, but what living thing refuses to speak for fucks sake,? At least bark, meow or something"
The question hung in the nothingness, and his question was left unanswered, as Emory's thoughts churned in search of a solution to the situation presented before him.
As Emory grappled with the stubborn silence of the record, his frustration continued to grow at an incredible rate, threatening to overwhelm him. Memories of past inadequacies loomed in his mind, particularly the haunting encounter with Heilel, a moment of vulnerability he never wished to revisit. Yet, amidst the turmoil, he steeled his resolve, finding a flicker of determination igniting within him.
In the quiet expanse of the Endless, where time seemed to be absent, Emory took a deep breath, grounding himself in the significance of the task at hand. His mother's face flashed before his eyes, a poignant reminder of the stakes involved. Protecting her, shielding her from the looming threat of Zalos, as well as others too fueled Emory's resolve like nothing else.
With renewed determination, he straightened his posture, banishing doubt from his mind. This wasn't just about him, he could not afford to fail this time, failure was not something Emory was used to nor was he about to start getting used to it now.
"I won't fail," Emory whispered to himself, the words a solemn vow echoing in the boundless nothing. "Not this time."
The weight of the task at hand bore down upon him, lending strength to his efforts. With steady hands, he reached out once more, not merely seeking to speak. And Emory remembered Gabriel's words, the fact that the record was conscious does not mean it's alive and as Michael said, what links the record to everything was the aether. That was the answer!
Emory stretched out his hand in the direction of the record and closed his eyes, he began expelling his aether towards the record in a uniform and constant flow, Emory's aether soon reached the book and began flowing around the surface, coating the cover in Emory's own aether. Emory kept this up and soon entered a meditative state, at this point he continued to subconsciously expell his aether.
And Emory began to feel his consciousness expand, flowing outwards with the the aether and in that moment, like an animal waking up from its slumber, he felt the gentle stirrings of the record awakening. Emory felt a resonance, a faint pulse like feeling emanating from the colossal tome and with each pulse, Emory felt it, felt the record acknowledging it's presence.
"Emory Carson, finally you reached out to me" Emory heard his own voice unwillingly speak. Startled at this, Emory breaks out of his trance like meditative state.
"What the hell? Was that you?" Emory said, facing the record
"Yes those were my intended words but spoken through you and your voice as I do not possess speaking capabilities" Emory unwillingly said once again, as he touched his throat confused and unsure how to react to his own unintentional words.
Now Emory had established a connection to the record, and so it began to speak through him.
"How are you doing that?" Emory inquired as he furrowed his brows. He did not like the feeling of being subjected to the control of the record without his approval.
"Now that you have properly established a connection with me, our consciousness are now entwined, not completely yet but eventually so. You could do the same, but I strongly advise against it, as doing so would inundate you with an overwhelming deluge of information, which, at your current capacity, would be insurmountable" The record echoed, still utilizing Emory's voice as its conduit.
"So we share the same consciousness? Does that mean you know my thoughts?" Emory queried, his discomfort palpable
"I dont need to share the same consciousness with you before doing that" the record replied calmly
"I see. That makes sense since you're supposed to know everything anyway" Emory said, as he shifted uncomfortably "Is there another way to do this? I mean talk without….you know…. hijacking my voice" Emory said
"There is, but you wouldn't be able to understand language that complex as of now, so this is the best way. With time you would come to understand " The record explained
"I see" Emory sighed "I have some questions for you"
"We don't have much time left, since we aren't fully merged I would have to go dormant again, so make haste."
"First off, why did you make all those drastic changes to my body? and why did it have to be so damn painful?" Emory asked
"I didn't so much change your body as much as you may think, what I did was merely rebuild your body to the best version it could become based on the information laying dormant in your genes and even doing that would still not be enough to handle what I have to offer, down the road, a stronger body would be required but your current status would do for now. A strong mind and strong body are essential, and as to why it was painful…it was either I rebuilt your body gradually, or do it a at once and I simply chose the later"
"This damn book…" Emory muttered to himself, his brows twitching in annoyance
"I must go now, Farewell Emory Carson" said the record
"Wait! Where is the creator? And how do I defeat Zalos and Heilel. Michael said talking with you would make it easier?" Emory pressed, with a sense of urgency
"Revealing the whereabouts of the creator to you or anyone would be of no use , as that information is so large and so complex it would collapse your mind before I disclose it completely. And as for Zalos and Heilel, Michael was indeed right but it's not that easy as we would need to have merged significantly to stand a chance against Heilel but Zalos is a different story, just keep doing what you're doing" The record explained
"But what am I doing?" Emory asked but was replied with just the sound of his own heartbeat
"Hello? You still there?" Emory called out and was still not answered "Great" he muttered in defeat, his hands falling limply at his sides.
***
Morning had come once again and Emory woke to find himself laying shirtless on his bathroom floor, as he stood up, shrugging off his sleep inertia. He looked at himself in the mirror, and he was faced with a reflection that looked like he had stayed up all night, he looked like a mess. Emory got ready had his bath, got ready for school and made his way to the living room for breakfast.
"That's strange, mom should be up by now. No breakfast, no note or even a single message from her" Emory thought to himself as he entered the quiet living room.
"Mom" Emory called out, checking to see if Mirianne had returned from work. The silence that replied him gave him the answer he wanted, Mirianne was not home yet. Emory looked around the house in search of his mother, but she was no where to be found. He called her phone but was replied by an automated voice saying her line was unreachable.
Emory began to worry, and his worry soon turned to panic as Michael's warning crept into his mind. Could Heilel had figured out that the record was tethered to him and taken his mother to use as leverage against him?! If he did take her, then what horrors could the King of Hell subject his mother to? He dared not think of it, these were the thoughts that plagued Emory's mind and spun him into worry. But she had never been this unreachable. Emory's panic soon turned fo fear and finally began morphing into anger.
"Shit, I need to get to Michael quick!" Emory said to himself as he dashed towards the door.