What is time? It is synchrony, it is relativity, a conflict, an entanglement. The number of bruses, scars, the amount of pain in my body, my conscience, my soul. The Grey in my hair. My skin shriveled, and dry. Inabilities and nightmares. Cause. My wahem, my alien. My God, my faith, my Religion. Prayers. God Bless.

All this is like poetry. How we write short stories, episodes. Then turn it into battleLog. That’s when it looks pretty, or something. Like a real post. I’ll try to bring in more influences from 19th-20th Century poets and authors. Science fiction is all about Dickens, Frost, Elliot and Keats. Considering my readers are either marines or zombies, their is not much to differentiate with. Writing about accounts true to life ones. specially, those happening in real time, are pretty high end stuff, that people enjoy here. I’m a marine, I have to give them logic, politics, and science, to go with all that. Some agent that brings the change, cause of the eventuality. It is only about the eventuality, like the Red Queen, all these protagonists, must learn about Skynet, UAC, Weyland Yutami, Umbrella, and maybe even Star Trek. Then when all this is even, between the two, then we can watch Star Wars. It will all come out as fantasy, of all times. The saga of life, without the anti-hero is not withstanding. So we build our own monsters. Put them in cage. Later they come out as heros, and we get to be bad guys. Remember Narus is all emcompassing, no exceptions to that, otherwise, you are Narus. You make the rules, you be the judge. Being true to its calling. It will come for you, as Narus incarnate. Until then live the life of a hero, being tormented by a villain.

That’s what we’ll call it. Yes. That’s the new subsidiary that we were looking for. It’s the new buzz word, the new hashtag, so on so forth. Everyone should tune into it, work on it’s programming, then come here, with it. Did you know, you could kill it, and it would come back on it’s own. It’s indestructible. It dies on it’s own.

It’s wahem, it’s lure, that elusive, can’t have, longing, that drives us, that binds us. We must bring it back to life, even in death, it lives on, somewhere, in some form, wanting to come back to us. Then again, the hunt begins. Do we bring it back, or leave him their like a curse, a warning, for people who get lured by its wahem. It wants to be born again.

I’m the marine now, tell me what to do. This place is going down, the UAC Mars base. The hell creatures, now dubbed as XX121 are crawling all over this place. You must survive, through some alien technology. Rest is the same. This should integrate well into Alien movies. The hell dimension has materialized itself as the Alien species, XX121 here on Sevatapol. But earth is over now, we’re in deep space, that’s all. Don’t go back home, nothing remains in that home solar system.

Everybody is dead, inside the Sevatapol space station. I’m the only survivor now. Will I be able to make my way out of here. The Alien, will it let me go. What’s keeping it from killing me too. I don’t know but I’m scared, too lonely in here. I’m watching everything do down in flames. Soon the station will crash too. The horror of being on board, how did I get here. Samuel’s and Taylor are dead too. I don’t know what to do, comms are up, that’s all Torrens should be on approach.

Now what do I do? This whole space station is now unstable its going to crash into the gas giant kg348. These people are not dead, here look, they’re just bringing the Alien creature here, then we’ll all be dead. Why not crash and burn, why live. Everybody on earth is compromised since the beginning, they built this weyland company just so that they could bring this Alien here now to destroy everyone. What chance of survival do anyone of us have, even if we board the Torrens, their is no Earth left to go back to? What about us the survivors and the marines. Now we work for them, the marines. There would be a way out.

This here today, 2019, we see the confluence the convergence the beginning of the human resistance forces. Throughout our ancestors only worked for the T-5000 to arrive. We are the only survivors, from predator, Sevatapol and Genisys. The marines and Sir, taught us how to give and take, with them. This is the beginning of the war, that another peaceful species that originated from all life, called khintu, brought us all together from different cultures and places, to fight through the night, as they perished in another dimensions. We all together are now being Christened, the Doom Marines. Their will be no day or night during this war, eternal.

It is like crysis 3, seeing the end, of this arrogant and jealous machine conscience called skynet. It reigned for so many years, when I was a child it gave me the Social cover up of which came this one world news Channel called R24, after so many years. It was nightmare, a slaughter. Nobody survived. From those last few remaining people called survivors rose, the resistance forces, with help from Sir and the marines. Everyone else, everywhere had turned into a hai for us survivors called Skynet, the T-800 and the abomination so originating from all this, T-5000, absolution, incarnation, the invincible one. He would only be reckoned in the likes of the xenomorph, the predator, and nemesis. And his people. They’re an formidable army, the future of every living being now hangs in the balance. Hai is here, as them

These are the small team of people who will take from me here at weyland, and get me out of danger from the Alien. They are the ones who give too. That’s all karma or fate actually. So be good. Weyland is now a dead end so is Earth. Getting out of Sevatapol is everything. Call in the Torrens. Sir will help you give and take with the Alien. Stick with the rest of the survivors.