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Date Posted: 13:21:25 08/18/01 Sat
Author: Rayle
Subject: Enter Antagonist...now!!!

The masses pour through the great doors into the Central Conjunction. A fancy name for what is, essentially, an exceptionally large room, branching off into a multitude of hallways; channelling the thousands of followers into the depths of the Church.

On the wall furthest the doors is a dazzling stained glass window a good three stories above the floor. That is, what looks to be a stained glass window. It is about twelve feet high and, being circular in shape, the same same distance across. The glass portrays a somewhat disturbing likeness of an eye and curves outward. It seems to shine with daylight. If, however, one where to consider this possibilty, he or she would realise that the �window� has a good deal of concrete, stone, rooms, and people behind and above it. And that it�s rainy outside.

Of course, no one does notice this, as they are far to concerned with getting out of that room to wherever they happen to be going. Besides, to them, it�s just a window.

They have a point, it is a window. It however happens to be a three inch thick, bullet-proof window covered with a very impressive hologram.

A pale finger strokes the glass from the inside.

Calm, brown eyes observe the goings on in the Conjunction, the tidal flood of worshipers. Eyes so dark they are almost black. More eyes that shine with a light that shouldn�t be there.

The person to whom the eyes and hand belong too is one of exceptional importance to the worshippers below, though they will never see him and, perhaps, never know of his existance. He stands in what is known as his office, though it is one of the most beautiful rooms in the chruch. It is behind the window.

This figure is the driving force behind this particular sect of Neuracomp. His will is obeyed by all, because it is known that he seeks the best for Neuracomp, and, as such, the best for everyone. He is revered as a god on earth, because that is what he is believed to be. It is believed that his mind, his desires, his thoughts are those of the Transcendant One. That he is the direct channel for god, the Transcendant One�s median.

He is the High Voice. And he knows no other name.

A knock sounds at the door of the room. The High Voice turns from the window to face the door, but does not sit down at his desk.

A few moments later the door opens and a young female priest rather nervously steps in, a bundle of papers clutched in her left arm. This is the first time seeing the High Voice. She doesn�t know what she expected hi to be like, to look like. But the pale white skin, the smooth shaved head, the features that reflected neither youth nor great age, and the aura that suggested that he had lived longer than any other creature.

�No,� she thinks �definitely, not.�

She waits in the doorway for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.

�Come here, my child.� The High Voice speaks softly, but it is clear that it is a command .

She steps forward, and, still not quite sure what to do, kneels before him in respect. She feels his hand on her chin, bringing up her head. Then slight pressure on her left temple, and then on her right.

�The Transcendant One�s blessing upon you.�

The priest shivers.

�Put the reports on the table.� He turns to the window, and on it draws a circle around Trevor Deodge, just barely visible, and mumbles a few words. Suddenly the circle he drew fills the screen, zooming in on the outlined point. The bottom of the window-turned-vidscreen displays Trevor�s name and a number of personnel specifics. The High Voice taps the screen, �Bring him to me, when he is finished his duties.�

He waits a few seconds, patiently, then clarifies �You may leave now, my child.�

The priest gets up, looks at the High Voice, nods hastily, places the papers on the desk, and with all the speed she can muster, departs the room.

The High Voice

I'm not stealing anyone's color, am I? Just smite me if I am.

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