Carnivores and herbivores are two kinds that inhabit the eco system, over thousands of species, water, earth and air. Evolution driving them into each other’s medium of what it calls natural environment. Size, predatory instincts and senses, survivalism and becoming one another. And then the unreals or Wes, in each of these species, all dying for somebody, sooner or later, because time isn’t static, decay is how we define whatever is real. Humans aren’t different from any other species, at the time of writing, water species are the dominant ones, with sharks at the top of the predator kingdom. It is diversity that drives the ecology. Derived from apes, we have learnt over several millennia of development and evolution, it bring into and sustain the entire ecology of what we call life on this planet. So staying confident, I might add, we demand from each species, and each individual, about what more, disease challenge or death, that it can offer to us, imbibing and storing it in our race color and kind, then returning all we have learnt, sharing it to the rest of the world. I’m still a learner here, more and more demanding of what lies ahead, the pain and suffering, and struggle of entrapment, survival even escapism. Whatever I see fit for me, where ever.

The people in the 21st century, worked under Pandutji, they were all borne out of CIA, IAS, from India. Later in 2037, they started secretly working for these Engineers, calling them their Gods. They became believers in devotional India, the whole country was involved in the foundations of Weyland Yutani, and space frontier exploration, of Narus. After events of Prometheus and Covenant, they destroyed earth, our home, and built unreal 20th Century, farms in Engineer frontier planets, hundreds of them. They are the ones who set us up, on Isolation and Nostromos. I can’t believe just a handful of us now remain. We call them DMs, like ash, call, bishop. This mission isn’t one of survival anymore, we’ll have to restart the human race in another solar system, one day. We must move slowly and carefully. I’m Ridley.

They’re all a predator race. And their are millions and millions of them on this planet. And after we’ve crash landed here, we’re not going home, that’s something they’ve destroyed, while we were in hyper sleep. They have sophisticated weapons, like the xenomorphs and yuitasus, hunter killers, that wipe out entire planets. We’re a dead end here, just a few of us in escape modules. They have even human bipeds, living in a system of countries, replicated like our home planet, but they are made out of jealousy for us. We call them unreal, living a 20th century life like our home, that’s the secret weapon which the Engineers used to get us all killed. We are the last few survivors. The unreals, have a broadcasting system, it is jammer, which is keeping us enslaved and not letting us live or have our way. It can be rigged with us survivors to broadcast us, instead of them, that would slow their hunters and killers down, and maybe even make us invisible to them for a while, until they find us again. The hunt is on.

We’ve been to Mars before. But we’ve run of space and people here. This world just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I keep getting bigger and bigger. So I need to head out to another planet, start a colony, forget about Terra forming, only stations, city sized on land and in orbit. Bring the predator in them, along with battleLog, I need to survive this, get communications, internet and TV ready, broadcasted from Earth, Rt. That’s all I need here too. But the predator must not exit, stay, we need to balance it out him and us, survivors. He ain’t getting in here, without tripping on something, or leaving behind a clue, something of value, before he exited the scene of the crime, picking up his trophies.

Synthetics never showed up here, like replicants, they never appeared to be of any threat to us. Just good human bipeds developed by Narus bio engineering projects, to benefit man. Much more advanced and powerful than androids or robots, could ever be. But we could tell that they were taking in the programming from our parents. Whatever is out there watching us since the dawn of man, the synthetics are aware of them, true.

A sunny day in California, about noon, time for school to end, and kids about to come out loud, all over the main streets, wanting to get back to their mama. Wanting daddy and lunch, some TV along all of that love, and home pride. Toys and computer games. Load of teenage idols and girls, posters and magazines. Fair weather, and pretty faced my local TV stations online. But even as all of this breaks into the world, we are all aware, even subconsciously, that we are being watch, we are not alone, and that time is indeed gaining on us, do I trust my moms advice, or believe whatever I want to believe. Only in my dreams, or wahems, the unholy, dirty, prostitute psychic making satanic verses gestures indulgences about me. Only after so many years I come of age, and start believing in myself, that indeed I’ve been alone all my life, that was the unholy, lure, the day dream. I must start from scratch, learn to walk, write and read. Starting thinking on my own. Pick up skills and face confront that nightmare, that lure. Put them out once and for all, or die trying, not be afraid anymore.

In the beginning there was the predator and its haye. A mixed raced group of people really tall and physically profound, like negro and Caucasian. Even possibly genetically engineered to be a superior species not just man. At the pinnacle of predator kingdom, creators of the black goo, the haye which would spawn a mutating killer at the sub atomic level, creating manifesting, to accommodate the lure, the lair, and the kill, for its victim. Horrific and conclusive. Like a weapon of mass destruction, killing, even wiping out entire race of people, animals, complete planets, the size of Earth. The keep themselves ubiquitous even omnipotent within the universe like Gods. Their weapons the yiutasu and xenomorph. Engineers from planet 4.

Okay so by nature you don’t give, you don’t yield, only day after day, keep working tirelessly, mindlessly, totally on instinct, the die in some spectacular way, no one could tell. I completely believe in you now. I can’t read you either, no body language, no clues, only signs. I give to you. You win, I take the blame, walk away with self inflicted baggage. All these people, billions of them, in a stupid suit, doing what? Is that a cover up? Smoke screen? Not giving, hiding your guilt? When this is over I don’t want to know your name either. We are already in the new game, that’s running here, seek peek. Why would I keep you arrogant, you have to give. Don’t run or hide. Just talking to myself. See the Red Queen syndrome is nothing but, reality, that I’m all alone, just hurting myself. I should be staying aloof here in this station, because these people aren’t shutting this place down yet. Their hopes are that of absolution. How do I get off this base, just hiding inside air ducts, locked garage rooms, that I call hideouts. And then the conscience call of seeing humans, but they are not real. Just meat people, meat kids, meat families, in reality they are all ready to explode, and put an end to this place. Running such a nuclear installation, such a facility which being, as we speak, rigged to the last bolt, to kill me, good guys, why would I thinking about giving up, or making conversation.

After discovery of the fact that only people troll this world, and they cover up through self destruction, we had to give them a life, that appears real enough, and they keep giving to me. Then we get them married and the family system was inculcated with social boundaries. Business as usual for them. They even have to fight some people from their own borders, keeping them in a challenging posture, so that they keep giving. All that is done, so people keep fighting each other. Alice is a DM, who must now fight them for us, real survivors. She isn’t going to bring them here, and not get anyone killed, like other DMs, like Pops. How? Why? Because people now give, the war is over. Only the battle of today, where they’ve found a way again to cover up fully, and the world ends, even Alice has turned against me, and is going to go away, not fight them, like them. See only in their self destruction, was the key to my destruction hidden, so I must keep them alive, even segregated in borders, multiple universes. That’s what I’ve always given them. That they can’t cover up, instead they must fight Alice. And Alice has given to me, she won’t kill and die either with them. She’ll stop them, fight them, rise from the ashes, and not die, no matter what, keep me alive. The watcher of Rt.

Over the years, the model of the world, has been more about, how to orchestrate the destruction, of the self. That in itself being, the quest for finding the answers, that coax me, into wandering and coincidental, occasional mishaps. Coming out of it is a nightmare, like lying in a hot summer, with my whole body getting wasted. And people just feasting on that. All these answers eluded me, decade after decade, as I kept playing the role of a collector, I was just not able to ascertain anything about how things could, be so bewildering, or just so simple, that I’d find it hard to understand. I’d just lay in sweat and under the noiseless fan, waiting for something, at the end. Life should not be a problem that is unbound, that it should be in the realm of other dimensions. Stuff we currently call fate, God, destiny, punishment, unknown or nature. Politics of the mishap, being the game of haye, being the native, the collector, has long been the norm, leaving us darkened in pain and suffering. Healing takes a lifetime of seeking out and preparation. Reaching out to everyone is what a model of perception should be. But that’s access rights, authentication, power, authorization. The limits of the amount of money I have. Only in the world of tomorrow, we would have a system which would allow a sustained Rt, with zero downtime, and only acceptable, awared, denial of service, that can save lives.