12. The Race #3
As my speed increased, so did my cognitive lethargy. Every sentence was a glass of poison, bringing me closer to the frustration of those who could not move in their refusal to learn.
Requisite learning for progression.
It was not a foreign concept in a world that forced you to educate yourself on its terms to integrate with society, but I was not fond of the idea that this system had requisite learning and comprehension to progress.
I did not mind refreshing myself with the history of the Republic’s founding–despite the omission of the false Earth–but wondered if I would have to comprehend and believe further information that I refused to believe or follow.
Turning back again, I saw other competitors pounding on the floor in frustration, screaming like infantile pupils who refused to learn. I would have laughed at their behavior if I had not felt like doing the same.
Without the weight of the world on me, I would have joined them.
Any scholarship or promise of Pure Knowledge wasn’t worth making my mind move as slow as a Jelly Fiend.
I felt like a coward to think of surrendering, but I had never been so exhausted.
It wasn’t as simple as being tired of studying, nor was it the desire to stare at a wall.
I did not want to think.
I did not want to live in my mind. I did not want a mind. Thinking was pain and I wanted relief.
Against this, one thought prevailed.
I can’t fail them.
Ralia. Boyband. Naoma. Every human who believed that there was more to the world than consumerism and subjugation to corporations.
That thought–though difficult to grasp–was enough inspiration for me to look up.
There was an end.
A violet veil stood ahead, no longer than one hundred meters away.
I didn’t care if it was the end of the course or a mere illusion. I could not continue through this endless course without the promise of an end. This was enough.
I had forgotten about Ralia but saw her on the precipice of passing through.
I had never doubted her. If anyone deserved to pass through this sick test of will that masqueraded as a test of “intelligence,” it was her.
Knowing her, she might have faced the same doubts I had and wanted to complete the exam out of nothing more than spite.
I read ahead, finishing the history of the Republic. A few paces of emptiness led me to a new section.
“Knowledge is–” next to the word I saw a character unlike any Arabasian or other foreign language I had seen.
The next like was in the same form.
“Exhaustion is–” a new character.
“Falsehood is–” a new character.
“Please memorize the following pronouns: I–”
The line continued to provide every pronoun I knew, followed by a new character for each.
This process repeated until I met a line consisting solely of characters.
Some I recognized, though I recalled fewer.
Among these characters, I saw some that I knew I had never seen.
Even those that I recognized had been altered with additional signs and what looked like italics in certain portions.
Looking up, I saw that I was a few feet away from the end.
I could almost touch the veil of light but could not step any farther than the final character in the sequence.
More people were approaching from behind, standing in line with me and Ralia, who paced while reading the characters at her feet with scrutiny.
If she couldn’t understand this, how could I?
“Holy Light save!” a woman shouted as she stepped beyond the line of characters and through the veil.
It was possible.
But that did not mean that it was possible for me.
I turned to Ralia again, hoping that I might see some sign of understanding, but her pensive gaze looked to be nothing more than frustrated concentration.
Other competitors cried out, demanding an explanation or a hint. Their doubts strengthened mine and inhibited the little concentration I had left.
I might lack the wisdom of the finishers possessed, but I had one tool they did not.
Help?
Zhu snorted, laughing at me.
Please.
“Humble now, are you?”
I need to pass through. Does any of this make sense to you?
“It is not a sentence you can understand.”
Yeah, I get that. I would appreciate some help rather than an insult.
“It was never meant to be an insult.”
Fact or not, you’re not helping.
“Do not try to understand it as a sentence.”
What?
“It is not a translatable sentence. It is a concept. This is the language of cognition. It cannot be spoken. The translations are guidelines, though they are far from direct. You cannot translate a language that cannot be translated. Leave Amerikese. Try to let the words guide you.
I rubbed my face, feeling everything but physical exhaustion. Pressing my hand against my face did not provide the relief it did outside the core.
Ralia was looking at me. Seeing her confused was a rare sight. Even when she was, she tended to hide it.
Her eyes widened, then she pointed at another person who was passing through the veil.
I pulled up my nose and snorted. Without the air to produce the sound, it was a silent gesture that made me look like a fool. She scowled, then raised her eyebrows, not pleased. She understood what I had done to gain a hint and I hoped she was willing to work with her Gui as well.
“Beat you there,” I said. I didn’t have any confidence but feigned the competitive attitude that I knew would drive her.
She smiled, then focused on the characters again.
Let me guess, this would have been easier had I already ascended?
“You are ascending, bakuh. You have already, and you must continue to do so. Do you understand what it means to ascend?”
No. If I did, I figure I wouldn’t be stuck listening to your begging anymore.
“When we joined, you were but a Violet soul on the antispectrum. You were quick to reach Indigo and with my aid, managed to reach Blue. You are pushing yourself well now, but Green is still out of reach.”
And Red? What happens at the end?
Zhu snorted. Despite me being a human and him being… well, adjacent to a human and a swine, I had learned to pick up on his emotions. He had them, despite his hardened approach and continual scorn that reminded me of my running coach back in Medislavia.
This laugh was not the familiar jovial mocking.
Zhu was worried.
If I could have seen his face, I’m sure that I would be able to see past the wrinkles and tusks, recognizing trepidation in this ancient being.
“If you hope to defeat Gong, you must pass Red.”
And what lies beyond?
“Forgive me, for even I do not know.”
I stared at the characters.
Did any of this matter if we could only defeat Gong by passing what I once thought to be the highest stage of ascension? Shouldn’t we be focusing on ascending rather than wasting our time here?
Even though the thoughts weren’t aimed at him, he responded.
“This is how you ascend. Furthering yourself in both mind and body.”
Couldn’t you have told me that from the beginning?
“Making you learn for yourself pushed you towards ascension. If you remain stagnant, the world will perish. Push yourself by any means possible.”
What about the others and their Gui?
“Focus on yourself.”
But do we all have to reach beyond Red to defeat Gong?
“Every victory has its cost. The fewer of you there are, the greater the price.”
Would I have to sacrifice myself if the others failed? Would one of them have to if I failed them?
“Focus on the present.”
I had no desire to look at those characters. The sight of them revulsed me.
“Furthering yourself.”
Whether he spoke those words or they were echoes in my head mattered not.
I could not fail. It was not a choice of will or desire.
I could not.
I scanned the characters, taking in every concept that came to mind. Knowledge. Exhaustion. Falsehood. The ideas flowed into me, not only as ideas, but as feelings.
Knowledge.
That was what this meant. Not words, but the concept of Pure Knowledge. This wasn’t that, but a hint at what it might be. Every thought ever given to me was siphoned through the understanding of another person.
Pure truth was existence as it was. There was no such thing as multiple philosophies, only lies and fables that pointed in their tainted way to this.
Pure Knowledge was not the understanding of everything, as I and many of these people might have supposed.
It was the idea of knowing. The human connection to reality.
I was not a human. Human was the concept attached to the being that I was.
I was not made from atoms or molecules. Those were human concepts as well.
My comprehension was so miniscule compared to that of a God.
This did nothing to diminish my Cross-following faith, it only aided me to recognize what the God I believed in might know.
I looked up and passed through the veil.
I should have felt joy and relief as I finished and Ralia met me with her embrace.
I was terrified.
If any human could be capable of such understanding, there was no weapon more dangerous. If that person was a Beacon of the Gongtide–this Dokkaebi and the Correction–they would be the key to Gong’s victory.