They say the first time is the hardest.
They lie.
The hardest part was preparing for the injection.
The lights above me hum with a sterile indifference as I sit alone in my new lab. Not one of the decoys with leaky ceilings or half-scorched walls. This is real, funded, safe and mine. For now.
I roll the syringe between my fingers. The liquid inside seems almost alive. A deep hue with threads of shifting light, looking like liquid thought. It is both beautiful and terrifying.
There will be no more test subjects. And no more biomass proxies. If I want to create a bridge to the Force... it has to be crossed in flesh and mind.
My own.
I press the injector to the crook of my arm. I do not hesitate. Pain flares briefly, then vanishes into a sense of cold.
I wait for some type of reaction. At first there is nothing. My heartbeat echoes in my throat. My hands tremble, but that could just be adrenaline. I look around the lab, and --
The lights flicker.
No. Not flicker they ripple.
Reality bends.
My senses bloom. I hear the whine of a power conduit two floors down. Feel the pulsing warmth of my own heart as if it were a sun behind my ribs. Every object in the room is outlined in movement. Potential. I reach out on instinct. Not with my hand, but with my mind.
A metal stylus on the table lifts, quivers, and floats toward me. My hand never moves.
I feel the air shift, my breath becoming part of some larger mechanism. The Force? No.
Not the Force.
Synthetic and constructed. Created by science.
But the elation does not last.
My head jerks like a circuit misfiring. Heat surges in my spine. My knees give out. I hit the floor. Somewhere distant, I hear the stylus clang to the ground. A pressure behind my eyes begins to build, like someone is trying to squeeze a galaxy through my skull.
Blood touches my lips. My nose? Yes, it is bleeding. I reach for a towel but cannot feel my hands.
Then there is stillness.
As quickly as it came, the pressure fades. I find myself lying on the floor staring at the sterile lights above again. But everything is different now.
I feel... present. Not connected to the Force. But parallel to it. I am not it's vessel.
I am its echo.
---
They lie.
The hardest part was preparing for the injection.
The lights above me hum with a sterile indifference as I sit alone in my new lab. Not one of the decoys with leaky ceilings or half-scorched walls. This is real, funded, safe and mine. For now.
I roll the syringe between my fingers. The liquid inside seems almost alive. A deep hue with threads of shifting light, looking like liquid thought. It is both beautiful and terrifying.
There will be no more test subjects. And no more biomass proxies. If I want to create a bridge to the Force... it has to be crossed in flesh and mind.
My own.
I press the injector to the crook of my arm. I do not hesitate. Pain flares briefly, then vanishes into a sense of cold.
I wait for some type of reaction. At first there is nothing. My heartbeat echoes in my throat. My hands tremble, but that could just be adrenaline. I look around the lab, and --
The lights flicker.
No. Not flicker they ripple.
Reality bends.
My senses bloom. I hear the whine of a power conduit two floors down. Feel the pulsing warmth of my own heart as if it were a sun behind my ribs. Every object in the room is outlined in movement. Potential. I reach out on instinct. Not with my hand, but with my mind.
A metal stylus on the table lifts, quivers, and floats toward me. My hand never moves.
I feel the air shift, my breath becoming part of some larger mechanism. The Force? No.
Not the Force.
Synthetic and constructed. Created by science.
But the elation does not last.
My head jerks like a circuit misfiring. Heat surges in my spine. My knees give out. I hit the floor. Somewhere distant, I hear the stylus clang to the ground. A pressure behind my eyes begins to build, like someone is trying to squeeze a galaxy through my skull.
Blood touches my lips. My nose? Yes, it is bleeding. I reach for a towel but cannot feel my hands.
Then there is stillness.
As quickly as it came, the pressure fades. I find myself lying on the floor staring at the sterile lights above again. But everything is different now.
I feel... present. Not connected to the Force. But parallel to it. I am not it's vessel.
I am its echo.
---
