PETRI DISH PLANET

"There isn't much time, and a proper explanation will take way too long. Just hold on tight, shit's about to get weird..."

All existence in my Allverse (and my home planet of Corsal, which is much like Earth but just beyond its frequency) begins with the Formers. They are the scientists, mathematicians, and biologists; the Gods, if you will. They literally form the codes for development, upgrades, or evolutions.

From there, the idea for creation or improvement and its calculations are worked out by the Seeders. The Seeders are kind of like the FDA. They make sure the proposed creation programmes aren’t too volatile within an ecosystem.

Once their assessment is complete, the Materializers take charge. They’re the builders, architects, writers, and artists. I once overheard a human girl comment that she must have been at the back of the queue when God handed out boobs. If she knew what actually gave her breasts she’d not dwell on it, trust me.

I was stolen as a child and taken to Corsal Prime, the control planee. I was imprisoned in one of the many hidden sub-zones beneath Head Control (the bowels) for six long years. Above us ‘conscious life and purpose’ was being formulated and created (in legit laboratories) with all the necessary precautions and tests. Below, along tangled tunnels and in forgotten rooms, Gods were perfecting their human experiments.

I was stolen to be a test subject for a small band of crazed creators who quite literally lost their minds. Law enforcement in the bowels comes in the form of the Hide Behinds and the Can’t be Seens. Hide Behinds have a sole purpose; to test you and to temp you into less complimentary behaviour. The Can't be seens are always there to report any and all behaviour. Both were very thorough in their areas of interest.

The rogue Materializers that captured me survive on the fringes of exposure. They've come up with an insane plan, well a couple of insane plans, to combat their ever pending discovery and incarceration.

No creator is permitted to act outside of HC’s knowledge or approval. The penalty for discovery is worse than death. All creations are supposed to pass rigorous tests and be monitored on one of the many Corsal creatton planets before being introduced to an ecosystem. The rogue Materializers who created Earth broke every rule ever made by the Stewards of the Compliverse. Human beings broke those and more by simply being alive.

My only permitted associate, Zander Twix, and I used to joke about how ridiculous the notion of them actually creating a ‘corrected human behaviour’ programme would be, but then they did it! The one thing that could be worse than being subjected to their experiments and they worked out how to do it.

There's an ingenious scheme for exposing it, too.

The idea was to add small quantities of a hallucinogenic to all upgrade codes, vaccines, and medicines across the board. This would make the medicated individuals susceptible to suggestion.

Then, they plan to release a super flu bug that can only be treated through an intravenous anti-biotic, hence the need for the jacked up antidotes.

A ‘break through’ vaccine would be discovered and offered freely. In this way, they'd be able to reach anybody unexposed to the medications.

News of the epidemic would be broadcast everywhere because every living thing would be infected and only the inhabitants of the Bowels would know the truth. It would cause utter pandemonium and make their takeover both swift and absolute.

Once you’d been injected, you could be reprogrammed remotely. Just like that, your brain would be theirs. They’d be capable of breaking down your genetic makeup to the point that you'd have little more free will than an ant or a worker bee.

All this is a last ditched attempt to correct their gross misconduct and keep what is believed non-existent, hidden. They were never given clearance to create Earth or its inhabitants. This is their brilliant strategy to manage the beings that have grown beyond their control.

After overhearing a conversation between the Frost kings of Balansiah (a planet from the Omniverse system with war lords hungry for dominance and sun) and the Materializers, Twix and I knew we had to find a way to alert whomever we could.

At the time the Materializers hadn’t worked out an ideal way to transport the vials of poison onto their various creation planets or onto Earth but there was a plan to test it on at least one of them.

Head control would be so busy trying to work out what happened that they wouldn't even think to check on their own Materializers.

It also bought us some time to find help. If these power-hungry Gods got their way, they would take beingkind and all its advances back to the sky and possibly end all modern civilisation collectively.

I was uncertain regarding my need for involvement until Twix revealed some rather extraordinary truths to drive home the urgency of our situation. And if I wasn’t already freaking out enough, he explained that we would have to travel off the planet.

His idiotic idea to outwit the defective creators made me question his sanity. His entire plan hinged on breaking me out of the bowels of HC. He was adamant it had to be me because of what I knew and that it was our only way to alert someone to save the Compliverse. I agreed fully, but I was more than a little unsettled.

You have to understand, I've been an obedient, model ‘guest’ for 6 years. Especially the last 2. Not that I can recall much of the earlier years. Hundreds of brain frying and hydro therapy sessions have washed my memory.

At the time, I didn’t understand how I could help him, I wasn’t aware of my ‘abilities’ yet. I knew the power and cruelty of the rogues at HC, though. I had experienced it first-hand. I believed that after my years of detention, not much would surprise or scare me, but alas.

Security around me gradually slipped over time until it was lax, even the Hide Behinds found there was no longer anything to tempt me with. I was jailed in my own quarters and, for the most part, was kept separate from the others. I gradually became invisible. I had been relegated to acting as a placebo only when required. My genetic code had long since been extracted, manipulated, and advanced in other, stronger, test subjects. This would end up being my saving grace during our escape.

Initially, I underwent updating, fine tuning, and reprogramming, but luckily, I was a near perfect genetic sample when I arrived, so they couldn’t corrupt my mind as much as they would have liked. (The more corrupted DNA is to start with, the easier it is to infiltrate and over ride.)

On the day of our escape, Zander Twix had his twin brother remotely override the security doors for a few of the other ‘illegal’ guests staying in the Bowels. This started a storm in a tea cup once they made their way onto the floors above. The ones who were keeping secrets scrambled to recover stolen goods, and the ones who were about honesty and transparency scrambled to uncover answers.

Amidst all the chaos, we fled the underbelly of the Head Control Station. Alex Twix met us on the outskirts of the station with a backpack of clothing and a name. A friend who they said they trusted with my life.