Persistence of a Memory

"You know, you don't need to keep doing that," An entity spoke.

Vadim, for the past 40 minutes in an impatient fit, had been pressing his fingers on the table.

The table was a large and round, wooden, and made of a dark wood that was of an expensive quality, with an inlay of a lighter-colored wood in a pattern of a spiral, that was polished and varnished, and had a dark red cloth that covered it, that was placed in the middle of the room, which was lit by a dim light, that came from an old, brass lamp, that was hung on the ceiling of a room, that was painted a light green.

He knew he'd see something akin to a memory but... whose memory was it, exactly? Whose was it? What did he need? The answer was not there.

Vadim stopped his fingers, which he had been pressing against the surface of a table. "Hey, Frankenstein thing... You're not the only one who gets to be the bad guy in this little tale," Vadim spoke to the entity sitting on the opposite side of him. "Just because your guy decided to be good for a little, it means little when all of his ideals are about to crumble, anyway." Vadim was angry at something the entity didn't understand.

"Ah... It is of no matter, the story is done and you are here now." The entity was not of the sort that could feel, or perhaps he had simply chosen to be as a doll. "You are simply here to witness a few of my memories. The memories I have taken and collected. The memories that were once of the souls of his victims and his enemies, I'm sure you are one of them, too. Just that..." The entity hesitated before continuing its words. "I cannot see into your mind."

Vadim smiled at it, as if it told them a mildly funny joke, "Maybe it is because I have yet to become a memory. Or maybe it is that I have no memories! Who knows!" They threw their hands up in the air and let them drop, "But, why don't you just tell me what it is you're doing to me?"

"I am collecting the memories of my creator's enemies. Now and then, here and there, I collect memories of people he has known. All those he has killed or hurt, or who have hurt or killed him. It is all in this small box I keep here in my little home."

"That's where we are? I see. But what are you to him, exactly?"

"I am him, but he is not me. In terms that the layman will understand, I am his shadow, his Psyche."

"A psyche... I see... that sounds pretty poetic and mysterious. You could be one hell of an author," Vadim joked as they stood up, looking around, seeing what they were in. It was an old house, with high walls and ceilings and wooden floorboards, that was decorated with old and faded paintings that depicted a young boy and a girl in a field of flowers, that was of a beautiful landscape and had an odd feeling to it. A feeling of a home that was no home. Somewhere in the edge of that painting was a smile that wasn't particularly attached to anything, rather, it seemed disconnected from the world of the children as if the view of the painting came from a window. It felt as if the smile was of a third party that was not meant to be seen.

"Those kids, what happened to them?" Vadim pointed towards the paintings, he was interested in what it meant.

"You might know already, of his forgotten brother and sister."

"Hm? He has more than one sibling?"

"Ah... you are from that future where he forgets her, aren't you?"

"Who are you to ask?"

"Who are you to demand?"

"Oh. I like your attitude." They sat down, looking around at the paintings and then back at the entity, "I'm a becoming of an entity that is in no way bound to this world, a being from an outside reality that has nothing to do with your story, nor will I have anything to do with its ending. As you are the one who speaks, and the one who will end this, you are the one who is the true mastermind and I'm merely a particular guest. Though... you're also not the true mastermind. This story is a never ending loop, a loop that will eventually end and you're just one of the pawns in this endless loop."

"What do you mean? I do not have a loop in my story. It is a straight line. I have a beginning and a definite end. This story is not a loop."

"Wrong. It is. And let me correct you, though I did just lie, since this is not your story. It is nobodies, and yet it belongs to everybody, as much as it does not belong to anybody. The main character of this story has a name of Zabulus, and it is the name of your master. No... that's a false name, is it not? You know his true name, yet why won't you reveal it to me?"

"Again, who are you to demand these things? If you were such an omnipotent being... then wouldn't you know everything about this place?"

As if in resignation, Vadim sat back and stared at the entity. He was still smiling. He had been since he first saw it. "You're right. But I don't want to know everything, nor will I. I only have one goal in mind, really!"

"That is...?"

"Oh, but who are you to ask these things?" Vadim said as he leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin in his hands. "What does a being that collects and reads memories of a dead man's past want to ask me about? Why are you so curious about my goal, anyway?"

"Because, if you are a guest... I am supposed to know the desires of the guests I welcome. Am I wrong?"

"Hey! What's this?" Vadim pulled out a... small box. The box, it was a small one, made of wood, with intricate patterns and decorations carved on it, with gold inlays and an intricate design of the word "memories".

"...!"

"Hey! I'm asking you, what's this? You can't answer me?" Vadim was now in a state of confusion, as if they didn't understand what was in-front of them.

"That.... Don't touch it!" The entity, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. "That is the memory box of my creator! You must not open it! You will not!"

"I see..." They put their hands on it. "So what you're saying is... This is my appetizer for the day?

"No!" The entity cried, "Don't open that box!"

"Ah, so I must open it!" They opened the box, revealing its contents to be the memories of the person that the entity was collecting from. "I'll tell you, though, you're quite interesting... but I'd rather know more about this guy you keep calling your master. In recent memory, he's quite a fascinating man. He has quite the interesting life, and a fascinating set of abilities." They reached into the box and pulled out a memory. "Let's see, here's a memory of his youth...!"

As if a lock had been put into place, the entity sitting opposite of Vadim stopped in its tracks. Its movements and everything that it could do, were halted by some invisible force, something that wasn't there, but was present. The entity tried to speak, but couldn't, it had been sealed by the person that had been talking to them.

"A rose rot, an old name, that had no purpose, yet it had all the meaning in the world. A boy that had a family, a family he was born in, a family that was his. Yet all he knew was his brother who he met for a little while every couple of years, and his mother who would fear his face for his semblance to a different man. Is that why he was placed in that wicked institution that took everything away from him? The boy who was once happy, now was sad, his face had turned to a wicked and cruel smile, and a smile that was empty of anything." Vadim looked at the frozen Entity, "Is this why he was so cruel? Because he didn't understand the world?"

Placing it down back into the box in order not to harm any of his memories, he took another piece of memory, this one shapeshifting into three different states, one of a young girl, a woman with black hair and blue eyes, and a man in his 40's that wore a suit, a white lab coat over his shoulder.

"A boy, that had been taught to kill and murder, and yet he didn't want to. By who, I wonder? Ah... his own brother and sister, who had killed him. Of course... he had more family that he knew all along, he just never acknowledged them! But... why?" Vadim asked in a genuine curious manner. "A man that had his heart ripped from his chest. That was the man, the boy that was his brother, and the sister that he never knew he had, a girl with red eyes that he met once. She had the face of an innocent, a face that had never been seen before by him. That was perhaps why he began adoring and loving her as a sibling, his brother however, had the face of an ugly mug and a hideous visage, he could not understand the hate that had grown in him. Perhaps he was the worst, but the worst is also the best, and the best is also the worst. Such a paradox is that of an existence that has no value." Vadim's expression grew strained as they looked further into the memories, "Despite the innocence of that little girl, she was a monster... a being that would devour the lives of those that would have been unfortunate to encounter her, but she didn't do it out of hatred or instinct. She did it for things such as knowledge and wisdom. She was the part of him that became the thinker. He relegated his brother as much as he could out of spite, and his sister out of love. And yet, his brother would die to save him from himself. A brother who died and yet had the audacity to live on as an existence in his mind and dreams. Though, what anybody, including Zabulus himself failed to realize, was that at some point they both had killed him. Why did they? And why was this forgotten? I wonder. Oh...! And what happened to that girl, I wonder?"

The memory in his hand shifted again and he placed it back in the box, and grabbed another. "This is a man that is of a world that is of a world of a story, and yet he has no name. He has a role to fulfill, and he has no idea of the bigger picture, of what is a part of it. His role is to die and suffer in silence. To die for the sake of the plot and to die so that the story can continue on. He was an actor in a story that was of his own, a story of a sad boy that grew up and was nothing. Hey, don't you think these are contradictory? These memories make no sense!" He looked at the entity who was frozen and had no way to respond. "He killed himself because he couldn't take it anymore. Because the life of a human being is so painful and sad and tragic and horrible and depressing and full of sorrow! Even the most desensitized, numb, apathetic person will kill himself because life is too painful for them to handle! They don't want to deal with it anymore. They just want it all to end! Have you ever had such a thought?! Pfttt, of course not. You're not human! You're just an imitation of what it is to be an Entity! Haha!" Laughter came from the being that had been observing the entity.

"You can't even speak!" More laughter. "You are such an interesting creature! I would like to know more about you! Haha!"

Vadim was having the time of his life. "But too bad, this seems to be where our little first impression ends. I do hope I left a good one, though, Zaig■! Or should I call you...'s.....'s....? Perhaps... Zabulus is more fitting for your current form...? But I suppose that doesn't matter, does it, my little patient?"

"...!" A word that didn't have any meaning, nor any existence in this reality was uttered by a nonexistent entity.

"Haha... ahahahaha! This is great! You don't have any idea what I am saying, do you!?" A madman was in front of an entity, "You have no way to comprehend what I'm saying, you have no way to even understand my existence, and you don't know who I am! But, that's not your fault, you are simply a Hylic as is your creator! Your host! The person who gave you form! But before I go..." The walls and floors and ceilings of the place began to crumble and shake as he spoke, "There's something I need to give to you... it is the key to this story... to your creator's life. It is the key to his strength." He took the memory that he was holding in his hand, and gave it to the entity, who was now free to move.

"W-what is this for?!" It held the theory in their hands.

"Oh, it's nothing, just something I wanted to give you. But that doesn't matter, I'll see you later!" He said as he walked through a portal that had been created by his will.

The theorem in their hands, Parabellum. It was a theorem of war and peace and the paradoxical nature of humanity that was of an existence that did not exist. But it was also of an existence that existed in a world that did not exist. It was a theory that was of an existence that existed, in a world that did not exist, and a world that existed with a non-existent space. It was a meaningless theorem, but the more it peered into the Theorem that rushed into its mind, named Parabellum, it understood the meaning of its words. And with a single thought, the entity disappeared, taking with it the Theorem.