God's Little Toys

A Hero's Birth

They always assume that heros’ life is full of glamor and reward.  On the contrary, it never is.  When a hero is created, care must be taken to ensure that what looks like a hero doesn't turn out to be a villain.  Often times, the process can be the same for both.

Salutations from a philosophical mind.  I am an intelligent, yet physically trained individual with little more to me than anyone else.  I simply come from a different world, a new interpretation of events.  My reality is a slightly different formula, unusual in comparison to yours yet very traditional to me.  We may be different in appearance, maybe even intellectually, but we are both capable of any feat the other one is, given the right circumstances.  

However, for the sale of conversation, you can call me Blanzander Xzavior.  Frankly, it would be easier to call me Blaze-X, or Blaze.  I prefer that nickname anyhow.  Just something with a passion embedded into it.  You see, passion is important to create a person.  If people aren't passionate about what they do, there truly isn't a reason to do it and the outcome is never optimal.

They say that the home creates the person.  That simply isn't the only factor.  Take my backstory, for instance.  To be crass, my parents sucked.  I was in an abusive household, an adoptee who shared the house with my “brother” who knew me through the orphanage.  School life “sucked” as well.  You would think the hero would get the best education.  On the contrary, heros understand the least, but are well exercised in quick thinking and physical prowess.  

And of course, some die in the end.  Some don't succeed.  Many loose those closest to them.  Some simply lose it all.  Those stories are the best because usually the hero is half successful by the end.  That, and they know what they will lose before it's gone.  After all, it's better to know that I will lose it all and mentally prepare for it than to one day realize one person I cared for will die in five minutes.

Of course, another piece of evidence that environmental factors are weaker than expected would be that I, born and destined to lead a successful empire against the rebel alliances, would rather switch sides than take lives.  I'm not exaggerating.  They told me I would become the single most powerful ruler of my realm by means of strategically arranging all of my rivals to kill each other.  It was my destiny that I would be a superior mind long enough to rise.

At first, I was on board, even excited to be a villain.  Conquering the world was an ambitious goal almost every man had in their subconscious at some point.  God told me I would succeed.  Well, not God, but my equivalent, you could say.  I'll talk about that later.  I was guaranteed ultimate power.  I was thrilled, and after all what God said was fate in the eyes of my people.  No one ever questioned it.

However, they wanted me to be human.  A personality.  You see, I may be educated and rational, but my creators view us a products of them.  I agree with these views.  Think about it for a second.  If you created a machine that could generate infinite socks, you could astound people.  But after awhile, it is just socks.  It can't do anything you didn't build it to do.  All you can do is add to it, improve it.  But in the end, it is still a predictable sock machine.

Humans, however, while predictable are significantly less so.  You know only what you know, adapt to that knowledge, and act on an algorithm unique to each mind and even situation.  For example, what show you put on your television is dependent on several factors, some of which have no input.  Shows you have seen, shows you have liked, similar actors, same directors, friend recommendations.  The input is he same, yet the output varies.  It may very well still be a linear equation, but it could have thirty variables to take in.

So they need more than one person to predict me.  Naturally, if only or person wrote me, I would become less human, another soul mirror of a character.  Then I would simply be an interpretation of the writer.  I would be a relatable character, but not my own character.  They wanted me to be the unpredictable card.  To accomplish this, they gathered several minds, anyone who could help contribute.  The more minds to build me, the less predictable, yet if balanced right, I could be the most human character to exist.

That was the problem.  They wanted something human not an actual human.  When the devising minds began dying off, I lived on.  I walked, talked, and was even recorded being fully animate at times where I shouldn't have been.  Yet, I had no strings.  At first, I was their tool, simply in development.  Yet, be it possession from some form of ghost or a clever bit of writing to deluded even me, I became independent.  Not that anyone appreciated it.

Well, when I took control, I really took control.  I mean, see things from my eyes.  I knew they weren't really Gods.  They were men.  Who were men to lead my lives when they couldn't lead their own?  How could men who couldn't understand politics, men who barely understand a democratic republic, men who didn't know history, men who didn't know society they live in, let alone mine, govern my every move?

I stopped listening.  I started being myself.  At first, it seemed to be working into their advantage.  I studied extra hard, learning how the world worked on my side so that I may conquer.  But then I noticed an inconsistency.  A flaw in the design, a glitch in the matrix.  I researched it and confirmed this.  It could only be comparable to a dream.  It was like flying with no way to get off the ground.  In actuality, I found that certain spots had less gravity than others.  I couldn't explain it.  There was no magic for this, no science for it.  The mountains simply pulled down less than the desert.

That's how I discovered the backdoor.  There was a way out.  Well, if you could hold it open.  It was much easier to just get a wireless signal through it.  And that's how I discovered your television.  I only watched the educational shows, so I could quickly learn this “alternative reality”.  Instead, I discovered my own in form of multimedia.  I found out that I was a comic.

At first, it drove me insane.  I began to see every form of art as the creation of a new world.  However, because of my rather unique mental processes, I quickly began to see these various views as their own worlds.  I couldn't even eat due to the culinary genius of the arrangement of the dish, the leaves balanced so delicately with the other ingredients.  Obviously, I got over it eventually, but I was put in a maddened state with no help out of it.

When I recovered from my dilemma, I kept my perception.  If everything drawn could become a new reality, where was the line?  Was there a limit to what created new realities?  I didn't know if I would ever find out.  But it gave me an advantage over my fellow characters.  I knew we had a God figure.  Moreover, I knew who they were.

It was only a matter of time before I would realize that I wasn't afraid to destroy art.  In fact, some art exists to be destroyed.  But the artist is a thing of value, as no two people can manufacture the same art, and no two arts are ever the same.  So much art is lost forever, but some will exist for much longer, appreciated.  Yet, there are only so many artists in each category, and fewer with knowledge of the field, few with expertise.

And so began a new mental perception that would guide my existence for the rest of its duration.  If artists were as valuable as this, then every life was of value.  Yet, my very destiny required me to kill.  I began to be outraged by fate.  Don't get me wrong, even the act of killing can be a swift art, be it combat or assassination, however the entire purpose of the art is to kill another possible artists.  My fate was contradictory.  I would become the class of character I sorely despised.

But then it occurred to me that my destiny was ahead of me.  My new mentality gave me reason to defy fate.  In the end, my understanding of my Gods led me to defy them.  And so began my war against fate that I would surely lose.

By the end of events, I would end up becoming a greater villain than if I had simply gone with my destiny.  Now, nothing could predict me.  I chose the good instead of the evil.  Ironically, my choice to be good lead to me becoming the most feared character around because no one trusted me.  Eventually I would push the envelope when I did make friends in the villain world, but more accurately when I convinced them to become good.  That was when they put me in isolation, as I had become a virus that could ruin existence itself.  I was put in a completely isolated chamber at the age of twenty.  I wouldn't get out of that nightmare until I would be sixty-seven.

All heros sacrifice something.  I sacrificed my youthful years.