in the corner, under the bright light of the bar, a television exploded. its sputtering and spitting of sparks broke the boy and girl apart.

he closed his eyes and tried to bring that sensation back, but it was quickly retreating back into the corners and shadows in his head.


she reached for the wire, and slipped it into his temple, her weight still on him, pressing on his chest to hold herself up. then she was gone, her weight, her eyes, her breath. and the lights of the city were back. but the electicity was bitter. the sky above him openned and he began to race upwards. his digital body twisted and rushed, going higher and higher, reaching and stretching, going faster and faster. his digitized scream was silent in the heavy, encompassing beat of the music, his hair caught in the rushing of the digital vacuum, his eyes clenched so tight that electric blood began to trickle from their corners, cold on his electronic skin. a stirring began, first faint and distant, then an encompassing and deafening rumbling roar. puncuated by screams, explosions and collision, the air was alive and electrified and seering.

what the fuck is happening to me! a confusion of frantic sounds, smooth and abrupt, stirring and shifting and surrounding and seeping into my consciousness. they meet with confused and flashing images– and then a constant sight and thought– perfectly clear and in pefect resolution, but undescribable and invisible. so briliant, amazing, and then blinked away, not leaving an empty hole, but filling and expanding and breaking through to every corner, rich and intense. so many thoughts– ahhhhh!

a bolt of lightning peeled and slashed though the air and struck the building, shooting though the miles of wires in the ceiling and walls in an instant, and went screaming into the head of a shadowed boy. his eyes yanked open, his back arched and fingers spread and strained outward, and the electricity shot through him. arches of lightning left his fingers and lept to nearby lights, destroying them in a shower of sparks, and his body convulsed as it began to rise from the chair as if on strings. and then all was dark. every screen in the place was blind, every light dead.

yes. energies surge and course through me, welling up under my command to listen. i feel the crackling, hear the hissing of pure energy as it engulfs me. a plaything that could be the source of ultimate destruction or amazing creation.

beams of intense white light erupt from his eyes, washing around chaotically, singing all in their path. he makes eye contact, and in that gaze is the essence of innocence, power, infinity, rage, and truth. alone he stood, a faint blue haze surrounding him, energy eminated from every pore, his eyes aglow with the life of the lightning. and he could see.

a pale moon stood steady in the sky, overpowering the stars around it and bathing every surface in it's light. the shadows crept back, not disappearing, just hiding from the omniscient white sphere. it shone on the drifters, on the businessmen, and on the cyberpunks alike. it reached down its insubstancial fingers and lit upon a boy, standing silently on a balchony, overlooking the city with a steady gaze. his eyes closed as silver flowed in his veins. an overwhelming sense of completeness washed over him, and it was ecstacy. every utterance, every rustle, every scream of the writhing city was in his ears. every image behind his closed eyes. every sensation tingled at his fingertips. and every thought resided in his mind– all crystal, all intertwined and understandable. reality was his to know.

he opened his eyes.

and mine to create.


sunglasses in place, coat on your shoulders, and a mind overflowing with understanding and knowledge. venture out and rise above confusion.

you are illusionari.

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