Elias, it is me, my love! I know I don't look like myself. Things have changed, darling. It's been twenty-five years since I woke up. After we placed you in cryostasis, I lived for another seven years. Then I came to rest beside you. Given that my illness was less complex than yours, I was brought back earlier. So much had changed, I couldn't believe it, and I could hardly bear it. Not without you beside me. But I knew that if I wanted to be with you, then I had to fight for you. Those beings called the fused are very clever and wicked by half. All they care about is their efficiency and collective effectiveness. "All for the good of the community," they mindlessly hum. I refused to join them. So did many others. We do not have the keen and expansive intelligence they possess, but we are singularly unique.
I understand why you look at me with trepidation. I do not look human. What else could I do? We simply cannot survive in this frozen world without altering some aspects of our DNA. Those dreaded fused have no shame or decency. We're practically their parents, for heaven's sake, and look at what they have done to us. Denied us the sun!
Oh Elias, give me your hand. Touch these eyes that gazed upon you that day in History class. Touch these lips that kissed you in the archeology museum. This heart that beat so loud when we made love on the sand. Would I remember any of this if I were an artificial construct? No, it is me, your Angelina. Come, my sweet heart, touch me.
This is the final episode of this tale based on images generated in SD. I hope you enjoyed it. Read other iterations of this narrative by clicking on each image:
