Ascendant Cycle: Brahm’S Ascended State

By Michael JC Brown

Brahms adventure continues in the next installment of Ascendant Cycle. He has ascended to a new level of existence and has discovered the primary purpose of his journey. He is introduced to an elaborate world, more foreign than anything he has previously experienced. The longer he stays, the more he realizes something isnt quite right. He will need all his wits to navigate these new challenges and stop events from happening that could alter existence at its highest level.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524653712

Michael JC Brown

Michael Brown lives in Seattle, Washington. He attended Harvard University, and has a background in computer science and business.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Desperation Heightened

A HUMANOID FIGURE STOOD UPON a flat, steely structure above a majestic, yellow-tinted ocean. The horizon appeared to extend infinitely on all sides, as there was no sign of land anywhere. The wind traversed the surface of the ocean, imprinting barely a ripple upon the water. A large moon hung low in the sky. Behind it, a slightly smaller moon partially revealed itself. Red and purple hues adorned the cloud-laden sky, revealing patterns of a runaway greenhouse gas effect. The temperatures were incredibly high, the weather erratic, and an acrid scent pervaded the air. The tranquility of the immediate surroundings stood in juxtaposition to the turbulent climate above. The figure was all too familiar with this world; it made him sick just thinking about it. This reality had overstayed its welcome. He closed his eyes, prepared for what was to come next.

He was dressed in what appeared to be a hooded ceremonial gown. The body of water, although clear, was deceptively deep. The darkness created the illusion of never-ending depth, as if the entire universe resided below his feet. The figure hesitantly stepped forward. The structure itself was the shape of an inverted pyramid. It appeared it wouldn’t float, given the metallic nature and shape of the vessel. But despite its apparent density, it drifted effortlessly above the water. As he stepped forward, he revealed a large stone, previously hidden beneath his robe, anchored to him. The heavy object was square with ornate patterns carved deep into the surface. It was connected to his leg via thick, interwoven, metallic threads and wrapped firmly around his ankle. He slowly opened his eyes and raised his gaze upward. He was calm, his posture perfect, although his mind was a different matter altogether.

He breathed deeply, taking in the serenity and majesty of his surroundings. There was a peace and calm about this particular place that he would somehow miss. But in its perfection, therein lied a subtle flaw, under the surface. It constantly scratched at his mind; tore at his innermost consciousness. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, and his unwavering determination carried him forward. Progress must be made, there was no other choice. Perhaps more accurately, he was given no other option.

The figure unclipped the bindings in the front of his robe and pulled back the material exposing his scalp and shoulders. The robe flowed down to the platform as if made of silk. With the robe removed, the figure’s mutilated body was now exposed. He had deep lacerations across his torso. His skin was severely burnt, creating an interlaced tapestry of scars. His calloused hands were large and covered with dry cracks. His nails were bruised and brittle, and several were missing completely. His scalp appeared deformed with layer after layer of scar tissue. His body told a story of a man tortured and left for dead again, and again. He rubbed his middle and index finger against his thumb on his right hand. This motion was a habit from when he was a younger man. It always comforted him in stressful situations. He braced himself and took his last breath.

Twisting backwards elegantly with arms spread, he leaned over the edge of the platform. He fell gracefully into the ocean. The figure was embraced by the water; the block attached to his ankle following suit. His eyes were open to the sky as the sea engulfed him. He sank quickly; the anchor accelerating his descent. After a short time, his grip on the air in his lungs failed. The last reserves fled his body as his mind forced his mouth open in a desperate bid for more air. Instead, copious amounts of liquid rushed into his mouth. The pressure increased as he fell further and further into the abyss. He had never experienced anything like drowning. The horror defied description. His body convulsed in pain, crying out in a medium that so effectively carried his screams to the surrounding inhabitants. His muscles tore from the violent movements, which only accelerated his body’s consumption of oxygen. Water continued to enter his throat, causing him to cough. He was dying, all too slowly, all too painfully.

He never wanted to die this way, but he was desperate to widen the possibilities. He was desperate to end this feeling of imprisonment; to escape a reality that felt so unnatural. The darkness started to surround his vision; the convulsions slowed. His eyes stared upward towards the last semblance of light. His last thoughts were of frustration and anger as he was swallowed by the void. His throat muscles ceded as he slipped into unconsciousness, the liquid flooding his lungs at last.

Moments passed as his body floated in the darkness. Where there was once life, now only an unnatural silence existed. Suddenly the figure’s eyes opened as he gasped for air once again. He was alive, back on the vessel. His body was dry. His lungs were devoid of water. His torn muscles were healed. He frantically scanned his surroundings. The same yellow sea, the same hues and turbulent clouds in the sky. He grasped his chest as he looked down. He was wearing the same clothing. His anchor was gone, presumably deep beneath the water, where his body should have accompanied it. Tears began to swell in his eyes as the reality of the situation set in. He slowly examined his hands as a wave of desperation engulfed his state of being. As his breathing became increasingly labored, his eyes widened, contemplating the ramifications of this event. He slowly leaned back, head to the sky, and unleashed a cry of hopelessness to the heavens. Collapsing upon the vessel, he began to sob uncontrollably.

CHAPTER TWO

Memory Lane

MY NAME IS BRAHM. IN my original life, I’d been an aspiring game programmer. When mind interfacing technology came onto the market, I quickly developed one of the first virtual reality games that had parity with the real world. The game was indistinguishable from our own reality in every way. It quickly became one of the most popular games ever. I leveraged a device called HETI (Human Embedded Technology Interface). The HETI allowed for interfacing with all of the core human senses like sight and taste. Over time, an amazing event took place in the environment of the game. A sentient being was born. This had profound implications. Was it truly alive? Did I now have a moral obligation to this being? I decided to isolate the phenomenon and locked all of the users out of the system. This didn’t go over well with avid players of the game. After locking everyone out, I focused on building the environment and proliferating other conscious beings.

Time passed in the game environment. The virtual society developed their own technology and their own game environments. In one of their game environments, another sentient event took place. There was now a conscious being two levels down from my world. It was a conscious being within a simulated environment created by simulated beings. This event was unexpected, but was a natural inevitability.

The next unprecedented event came when a virtual being two levels down managed to enter the world of his creator. This brought him one level closer to me and my world. This person’s name was Shiv, but he went by the nickname Shi. When I met Shi in the game world, he attempted to actually take over my body and enter the real world. I barely escaped. Shi became one of my greatest adversaries over time. We clashed many times over the eons.

The ascension of Shi led me to the realization that I too may be trapped in a virtual world. I began to test the theory that my world may be virtual as well. I located other people that seemed somewhat transient in our world and also interested in the technology being created. I eventually discovered how to ascend out of my world, but so did Shi. We both began to navigate our way up, level after level. Early in my ascension, however, my entire world was destroyed, killing everyone I ever knew. Shi was the culprit behind this event. He ended all I had known and held dear, by turning off the switch to my simulated world. Shi and I raced to the top of these virtual worlds, and I had just barely edged him out. Once at the top, I was at what I believed to be the true reality.

I was a type of celestial being. I could see a tree of all the virtual worlds and how they were connected, floating in front of me. I started to get a terribly sickness when I didn’t submerse myself back into these worlds. Over time, it became clear that I was meant to oversee and interact with these worlds. Whenever I entered a world, I felt much better. I realized I was truly responsible for the health of all these environments. I didn’t age during my time atop of the Tree of Worlds. I spent eons overseeing the virtual worlds and did my best to avoid Shi as he too navigated the worlds from within. He was always there, waiting for his opportunity to overtake me. Shi continued to navigate the worlds to extend his life. I didn’t dare interact with him. He was too dangerous, too clever.

Then something happened. A light appeared in the distance. Once the light came for me, I assumed I had finally reached the true state of being. I felt so much joy. I was enveloped by the light. To my surprise, this was just the early beginnings of my journey.

CHAPTER THREE

Brahm’s Awakening

OF THE MANY AWAKENINGS I had experienced, this one was distinctly different. The feeling, the timing, the disorienting factors, they were distinctly unique and magnitudes more intense. This process