InsaneJournal

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A week had passed since the final battle.

Fayt had struggled against the program that Luther had installed inside of him. His dignity had been taken away the moment he’d begun to live with the Creator, being treated like a slave, who only got the least amount of food and materials to keep it living. It had taken away his self-respect and pride for his body that was now under Luther’s control only acted whenever Luther willed it-- most of the time.

There were only a few times Fayt could act on his own in front of Luther, and that was only through his words and his eyes. It had seemed that like the Eternal Sphere, the so-called program inside of him had faults. When Luther was too busy working on the new universe or game he had in mind, Fayt, with all of his resistance and will, had managed to exploit the errors. He had slipped away from Luther’s Workspace, working with Blair to figure out what kind of program that Luther had used against him.

Blair had told him that she had never seen anything like it.

Fayt hadn’t been surprised. That was the reason the Creator was a true genius after all. In that week, he had found an immense amount of information about their Creator. It’d turned out that the 4D beings of the Sphere Company had all respected him out of fear and also hated him. Again, that hadn’t surprised Fayt. What surprised him though was how the 4D beings had involved themselves in the Eternal Sphere, disregarding their own lives.

Even Fayt wasn’t that addicted to games.

Did it ever occur to these people that the Eternal Sphere was as real as their own universe? He was the living proof of it. It struck him odd that Luther hadn’t fired his subordinates, including Blair, but he supposed that there wasn’t anybody else who’d take the jobs, even if it offered a copious amount of money. It didn’t help the fact that he lived with Luther now, complying to Luther’s demands…

What did Luther’s words mean in the final battle?

Was he truly meant to be Luther’s tool instead of the Eternal Sphere’s?

Was he truly meant to be Destruction incarnate, to match with the Creator in all sorts of ways?

Luther had even called him a fallen angel, an odd thing, but Fayt figured that Luther had been mocking him. Now he was standing in the middle of the Workspace, gazing at the new clocklike contraptions all around him. Gone. They were all gone. All his friends. Dead. Deep sorrow engulfed him, his hands that rested to his sides twitched, curling into fists. If only he could truly move, but if he did, Luther would notice it immediately and might even do something about the program inside of him.

Luther turned around, giving him a strange look. Fayt knew that Luther wasn’t really looking at him and acknowledging his presence like a person would to another. Luther was examining him as though he was a puzzle of a toy that needed to be solved, a challenging game. He hated it because it made him feel invisible. If only he could break through this spell…

“Fayt,” Luther inquired softly, and he disliked the way Luther had said his name; it was a mockery of affection. Nonetheless his body obeyed, walking towards Luther, saying not a word. He stood in front of him and Luther looked at him again, before issuing an order, “Spread your wings.” Once more he did what he was told, white wings bursting out of his back. Soft feathers floated to the ground and Luther had enough grace to pick one of them up, holding it close to Fayt.

There was a dreamy look in his eyes, Fayt realized. Was he truly fascinated with fallen angels?

The Creator shifted, slipped the gloves off his hands and tucked them and the feather in his pockets. He let his hands touch the wings, caressing them and making Fayt shiver despite the disgust pooling in his stomach. If he could, he’d kill himself before he let himself be used like the personified weapon he was. He didn’t know if he could bear the thought of other people and other universes dying because of him.

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Luther didn’t know what to do with Fayt Leingod.

When he had inserted the program called P. C. in the final battle, he expected it work, and it had despite the strange spark and bits of the old program that was resurfacing. His beloved angel was supposed to be completely and utterly new, without a trace of Fayt, but once again…

He would have to fix it sooner or later, delete the conscience of Fayt Leingod and--

No.

The 3D beings weren’t supposed to have a so-called conscience. Everything that made them who they were was only modeled after the 4D beings. The darker part of him, his own subconscious, didn’t stop to question why the 3D beings were much more alive compared to the 4D people. His own people disgusted him. They were all apathetic, emotionless imbeciles whose lives were far too easy to experience an interesting thing called life.

He knew what life was like, real life and not the lives of the people of the 4D universe who indulged themselves in games far more than they should. He had started out not too far from the top of the social hierarchy, but far enough that it was almost impossible to reach. He knew all too well that Belzeber was supposed to be the true Owner of the Sphere Company, but the bizarre, flamboyant man was only good in the skills of battling. He knew not of the complicated structures of the Eternal Sphere even though it was a game.

Now he was looking at Fayt, pondering about the gleam in his brilliant eyes. Once Fayt came over to him and spread his wings, he stood up, grabbed a feather off the ground, took off his gloves and let his hands rake through the white feathers, reveling in its softness. His program would have been perfect, all too perfect, but Fayt had ruined it all.

“You should be dead,” he whispered to Fayt’s ear, causing the other man to shiver. He was calm, unlike the time in the Eternal Sphere. Wrathful he had been; it was almost too shameful, because he knew he had more control than that, but he supposed that he had lost it all when his frustration got the best of him.

He was cupping his Creation’s chin now, cheek resting against Fayt’s, body pressing against the other. He could feel the tension radiating off that body and he congratulated himself for creating such a realistic human of a program. If he didn’t know better, then he would have assumed that Fayt was like the other 4D beings. But he did know better, so he disregarded the thought instantly.

The question still remained.

After his new universe was complete, after his angel finished all the work he was supposed to do, what should he do with his angel? Should he dispose of him? Should he play around with him for a bit? What if said activity became tedious? He had put too much work into this, had gone through hell to figure out what Dr. Leingod had been planning against him and how to counter it, which was in the form of the P.C. program.

And yet he knew that with Fayt by his side, with the P.C. program inside of him, they would be invisible and victorious. No one would be able to stand up against their powers and he had Fayt under his control-- or so he thought. Would it be much better to truly delete Fayt from his body, erasing all the data of memories--everything? Or perhaps he could use that to his advantage, though he wasn’t quite sure how?

He had refused to let Azazer and their scientists to tinker with his Creation, so he would never fully understand or even grasp why his Creation was the way it was now. No matter. He had another plan that might work. He pulled Fayt closer to him and he sighed in bliss at the body contact. Even though Fayt wasn’t like the 4D beings, the warmth of his body was something enjoyable and fresh to Luther.

“Do you want to live?” Luther inquired to Fayt’s ear again. Fayt shuddered in his arms, his wings folding over them as though shielding and isolating them from the rest of the world. He thought he heard a yes and felt a nod, so he continued, “Do you want to be free?”

“Yes,” Fayt answered monotonously, but his body tensed again and Luther couldn’t help but chuckle. So wondrous Fayt was, like a new toy that would react to whatever he wanted. He paused for a moment and took his gloves back. He placed a hand over Fayt’s stomach, fingers ready to sink in like before.

“Join me,” Luther said and Fayt, despite the surprised look in his eyes, nodded. Luther took the chance to plunge his hand into his body again and the little machines in his gloves began to connect and hum, finally dislodging the P.C. program from Fayt’s body. His Creation cried out in pain and slumped against him once the process was done.

Fayt was actually bleeding, but he was alive, stepping back and falling to his knees. He coughed and wrapped his arms around himself. Luther stared down at him and muttered a strong healing spell.

“Do not disappoint me,” Luther said with a hint of a threat.

Fayt looked at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “I won’t.”

Fin.

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A/n: LOL, I’m on a roll! /rolls around/