Alpharius : Head of the Hydra by Mike Brooks

Author:Mike Brooks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-09T08:58:29+00:00

Gukul will never forget his first sight of me. Ani and Sev fell to their knees when I revealed myself. Ani might have been overwhelmed with surprise by the sight of someone so similar in appearance to the warrior she recalled, but her wife? Sev had never seen that being. Why was she so overcome by my true appearance?

How are my brothers and I to retain our humility in the face of such reactions? How does one live knowing that the mere sight of you can burn itself indelibly into the mind of a mortal, even one who later ascends to become transhuman, and cause them to kneel spontaneously? It is something innate to us: something my father engineered into us, deliberately or otherwise. I do not know whether He intended our natures to tap into something primeval within humans and inspire awe, or whether it was an unintended side effect. We are, perhaps, as far beyond our own gene-sons as they are beyond unaugmented mortals. Is it any surprise mortals can recognise this on some instinctual level, regardless of my father’s intentions?

I have seen something similar when mortals are faced with the tower­ing power of a Titan, one of the god-machines of Mars. But can my brothers and I truly have the same impact on a human ­psyche as forty metres of steel, bearing weapons capable of levelling buildings in seconds, and powered by a nuclear core? Even Angron, even giant Magnus, cannot compare. But then again, Magnus might have the power to bring down even such a lord of war using his sorcerous gifts, and as for Angron… I cannot say that he could take a Titan down alone, but I cannot say that he would fail. I know he would try, if the need arose, and would likely relish the experience.

Perhaps it is that dichotomy within us which provokes such reactions. We are recognisably human in origin – although greater in stature – and yet we possess power even the mightiest of our trans­human warriors could barely dream of. Given the history of religions which declare that a god created humans in their own image, it is perhaps unsurprising we should tap into that part of the human psyche which seeks guidance from something familiar, yet greater.

But we are not gods. Even our father is not a god, awesome though His power might be, despite the whispers perpetrated by fools – and yes, I count my brother Lorgar amongst those fools, in this context. We are not gods. We are creations of science. And herein lies our problem, for we are neither human, nor divine.

We are flawed versions of both.

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