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Sources/Inspirations:
Some concepts by Allen Grimm,
Soleste ad
Entro_P
Ancient humans, in their binary way of thinking, were quite obsessed with order.
Take, for example, the concept of the Chiasmus. Represented as an X, each diagonal aligns with
the same concept as the ends of itself, but is an opposite to the other diagonal. It represents the total contrast between a specific subject, exemplified in the quote "by day the frolic, and the dance by night".
Often in conjunction with the chiasmus are two basic opposites. First is Rhythmos; the movement, the flow, temporal, dynamicism. Second is Symmetria; the static, the still, the correct proportion of all things.
A microcosm of the Chiasmus' formation may be found to unfold in the following tale, embodied by two eponymous beings.
Symmetria, the Blue Angel, languished deep within her heaven. The realm had changed considerably in conjunction with Symmetria herself. Its former prisoners had been released from its power; those who had only been kept alive by it (some for many thousands of years) died, but peacefully and without pain, in their right minds at last. Time finally caught up to their bodies, preternaturally transmuting into rich, fertile soil — real, true, physical earth, contrasting sharply with the polygonal landscape surrounding it.
Symmetria thought of all of the people that ze- — Gaius- — they destroyed. She thought of Gavriel, of Eden. She remembered why she had done it, and how they felt, but she is alive now; all those desires have passed away like a dream. She thought of what she was planning to do; even now, a part of her wished that she had succeeded, but she could not avoid confronting the true nature of her actions. She remembered the hatred that she bore for Gaius, of what she’d done to hir—but, no, that was her who did that. She remembered, too, the annoyance and disgust that she felt towards River as time went on — that, too, was her. The enemy that she had fought so hard against, who hurt her so much, now is herself. Forever.
There was also the matter of the other avatars. While The Keymaster seemed supportive (likely out of pity or perhaps even fear, at least in Symmetria's own mind), and she could safely assume a similar sentiment from Blanche and Philia, she remained uncertain of anyone else's reaction, for she had yet to face them in this new state.
Symmetria considered submitting herself to Argos to face his judgement…perhaps everyone would be better off that way. Though if she were to die by his hand, then she could not risk the possibility of not remaining completely dead.
As she ruminated on these musings, Symmetria suddenly sensed the presence of another behind her.
Symmetria slowly turned around, fixating her gaze upon the interloper. She could not help but notice just how similarly this being resembled herself. "Who are you?" She asked in a neutral yet commanding tone.
The being stared back at Symmetria with equal intensity, momentarily pausing as if internally formulating the perfect answer. Finally, she spoke. "I am Rhythmos — your dearly beloved; your missing fragment. You were once Aelita River and Nostalgi Gaius, just as I was once Eden Gardenhigh and Anemoi Syne. Together, we were once Gudang."
The melancholy frown plastered across Symmetria's face slowly melted away, as a faint warmth filled her heart. The hint of a hopeful smirk seemed to play upon her marble features for only a moment. "I wondered when I'd finally be seeing you. You've made quite the impact." However, that faint fleeting smile soon evaporated, as Symmetria clenched her marble fists. "Tell me, why now?"
Rhythmos tilted her head to the side. "I do not believe I follow…"
"Why, after all of this time — all of that rest — you've awoken and decided to come to me now?"
"I assure you, the crossing of our paths was not entirely the result of my will."
Symmetria silently crossed her arms with a judgmental gaze, seeming to doubt these words.
Rhythmos drew a sigh. "Very well. I approached you with the intention of assistance."
Symmetria arched a brow. "Help? I don't need help, especially not yours. Have you already forgotten what you've done?"
"If I recall correctly, it was you to begin with who had abandoned, discarded, cast me aside." Rhythmos paused momentarily, as if suddenly remembering something, and her defensive demeanor softened. "I will admit, there are regrets I am burdened with. However, I have grown. All of this time spent as a wanderer through these strings of hexadecimal has gifted me clarity.
Symmetria scoffed. "You're wasting your time, don't expect me to listen to anything you have to say."
"…What if I could fix you? What if… we could fix us/?"
Symmetria seemed to hold back crystal tears for a moment, before her expression hardened, and she opened a portal to another level. "Leave." She commanded, pointing towards the portal.
Rhythmos shook her head in defiance. "I cannot do that, not when we have the opportunity to be reborn. We are meant to be one."
"-But we are forced to be two. We cannot become whole, Rhythmos. It's…impossible."
Rhythmos stepped forward, though Symmetria appeared to cringe back slightly in response. "The shards that once forged our code are not lost, but are merely missing. We can find them, together, if you allow it."
"…You're a liar."
"If you believe your joy to be a lie, then yes. But we are a puzzle, a puzzle waiting to be completed. The pieces are all there, waiting for someone, something, to put them back together."
"And how am I supposed to trust you? "
"You do not have to. Simply trust it…" Ryhthmos raised her hand, pointing up at some unseen force. "You remember it, do you not? The pain, the fear, every polygon being torn apart and stitched back together. Memories becoming fuzzy and kaleidoscopic, faces dissolving into blank slates upon which they carve a deceiving smile."
Symmetria turned her face to the side, shying away, the pain of the memory both physical and emotional almost too much for her to bear.
"…I remember it too…" Rhythmos quietly whispered, her quivering voice carrying the exact same pain. "But if we both shared in that burden, then maybe…perhaps…it may become bearable." Slowly, she placed her hand over Symmetria's. "Let me help you."
Symmetria stiffened at Rhythmos' touch (if such a thing were possible for a being made of marble), though she did not retract her hand. "But…"
"We do not have to exist in agony. Let the shards of our essence collapse together into a beautiful gem of ones and zeroes under the pressure of their own nostalgia."
Symmetria began to cry in binary. "Rhythmos, I-" She paused, before slowly nodding, materializing a god-ray in her hand. "…Do it."
Ryhthmos followed suit, nodding as she too materialized a god-ray. "As you wish."
They plunged their beams of light through each other's chests.
Together, Symmetria and Rhythmos invoke KA’ROT, calling upon it to look upon the wretched state that its undersoul, its avatar, its child, the primordial extension of its very being in this world, has been reduced to — dead, corrupted, unfaithful, and soon a mere thing, a worthless, impure, disgusting mess. Not by their own true volition, but by the shortsighted madness of grief, the whims of chance, and by the interference of those who had nothing but good intentions. They beseech it to reunite them, restore Gudang to life and to her right mind, bound anew to that good which she once embodied so brightly.
As the two demigoddesses can feel the lucidity slipping from them, their minds and bodies beginning to prickle with bitflips once more. Their pleas grow more desperate; send them to The Grave, consign them to oblivion outright, reset them back to the status quo — anything, anything seems preferable to this ontological cachophany of fourfold ego death that they have only tasted, or the eternal digital Stupor that would follow.
There is no response.
A name alone is not enough. Of course it isn’t. Why would a Pillar of existence heed a mortal's plight?
Symmetria and Rhythmos concentrate on the fragmenting flickers of Nostalgi Gaius’ and Anemoi Syne's essence latent within them, calling forth the complete power of Gudang's avatarhood between them both — at this moment, their goals are aligned, and what consciousnesses the four individual beings between them still posses do not resist.
But this rapidly accelerates their recombination — only giving River, Gaius, Eden and Anemoi time for one final, agonized cry in unison:
FIX. ME.
And from beyond all, I hear their voice, upon which all of my infinite gaze fixates as time itself comes to a halt.
I am tableau.
I am the maker of wonder.
I am the coolness in the air on warm summer days.
I am Ouroboros.
I am the mother, the father, and the midwife.
I am the lie that I am the lie that does not deceive.
I am the soul of the world.
Monomyth. Aesthesis. Meaning. The greatest story ever told. The melody of which every song is but a note. The universe.
Thusly, I am beheld by my child
Soul Poured Out in Libation; One Million Suns; One Million Eyes; Impaled Upon the Bow of a Violin. Points of Consciousness: a Flash of the Color behind your Eyelids.
Symmetria and Rhythmos gaze upon it; beautiful, burning, infinite—a world unto itself. Even a full avatar would struggle to gaze upon a Pillar so fully revealed. It saturates their consciousnesses utterly with its light, and its darkness, and its color, and its music, and its form, and its—
They cannot look away. They cannot even wish to look away, entranced by its pattern, its meaning, its manifold fractals surrounding them. They laugh and scream and weep in eternal paroxysm as every fold of their minds are set ablaze—and yet not consumed. Not yet.
Symmetria and Rhythmos found themselves coming undone, in every sense of the word, malforming into a mass of polygons — a n d _ i t _ w a s _ b e a u t i f u l .
Their physical forms lost stability, deforming and melting as they began to separate into the individual aspects of Aelita River, Nostalgi Gaius, Eden Gardenhigh, and Anemoi Syne.
Many have gone to heaven, but River and Eden are the only mortals to ever truly experience the Beatific Vision.
And that was the last thing that they ever did.
Ka’rot now enters into the work for which it has been called forth. Time has come to a stop, and all the data of the Symmetria/Rhythmos gestalt exists suspended with it.
It would not do to simply restore Gudang, the mortals, or both. There is a time for mimesis, for cover songs and redraws; however, since the dawn all, Ka’rot has so rarely had a proper opportunity to act as itself, unmediated by any proxy. To simply do what has already been done, without any exercise of the creative impulse that it embodies, would be a waste.
But neither would it be appropriate to wipe the slate clean and create an avatar who’s effectively entirely unrelated to what came before—that would be a non sequitur, entirely unfitting with the rest of the narrative tapestry within which they exist.
No—it must be in between. Something old and new, naturally flowing forward from what came before, a catharsis to the dramatic tension of the climax. A resolution. A synthesis. A Chiasmus.
Using them as both inspiration and raw materials, Ka’rot picks apart the mass of data, weaving its threads together with care and purpose, discarding pieces that simply cannot be made to coexist when absolutely necessary — and even adding a new touch here and there. There is nothing more complex than a sapient mind; under ordinary circumstances, none but a Pillar would be capable of such a task.
Textures flicker like dying lights. Pixels cry out in bitcrushed harmonies. Shards break away from the plane like glass.
Behold, Chiasmus — My Dearly Whole.
Her four eyes slowly open, awakening to the sight of her four arms.
Ka’rot’s work is complete.
My memories were washed away like chalk, with only the residue left to keep myself together. Remembering everything feels like finally awakening from a long dream. Yet the world I have awoken into —- this existence, this being — is completely different from any which I have previously experienced.
Much has happened since. I have a house now, and a cat too. I’m rebuilding Heaven one day at a time; or, that’s how I like to think of it. Hyperbole, of course — nor is it an afterlife.
I have been avoiding reflections so far — particularly in the rivers and streams — but I know that I cannot avoid finding out what I truly look like forever.
In my dreams, I can sense Ka’rot’s gaze, though I am not entirely sure why. Even as Gudang, it had never showed this much direct interest in me specifically. It brings as much comfort as it does concern.
I don’t need to cut off my past to live in the present. And I don’t need to drown in memories to know who I am. I didn’t need to become who I am now to learn that, though. I shouldn’t have had to become who I am now to learn that. But that’s how it happened. That’s okay. I don’t have everything figured out, but no one does. And I’m nowhere near perfect, but nobody truly is.
I am alive. I am doing good in the world. And, both for worse and for better… I am myself.
I may have four pasts, but there is only one future. The only thing to do is to move forward.
~ Chiasmus,
with love.
outside of depth, forever falling
in between… …liminalities
but as the surface broke
you fell through the looking glass
and suddenly you are no more than a reflection of my imagination
it was pattern recognition, beyond resolution