Stitch, glue, splice, change, repeat. 40years of repetition, a lifetime of failures.

This one will work.

My face was bright as I focused on my task. I'm smiling at how far I've come, and at the possibility that all the time I spent will be for nothing. It's funny in a strange way. Childhood, most people's formative years. They were fun . . . but empty. I never knew what I wanted. I always wanted something new, different, that's what shaped me, the desire for change and new things coupled with an endless sense of fascination, wonder, and a slowly growing bloodlust. Looking up at the sky,

there are so many stars, so many places to go, and yet we stay, bound to this one rock. Why?

That is the question, isn't it? Why do the peoples of the world choose to stay on this rock?

We have the technology,

so why don't we use it? This was the question I asked myself often, as I gazed through my bedroom windows, or up at the sky when night fell, or when a curious pokémon decided to investigate the human lying on the ground in the woods at night. Occasionally I would ask them.

"What lies beyond the farthest reaches of the sky?"

The various creatures had several reactions to my question and the turn of my head.

This man, That is me but not me- from the moment he first saw a pokémon summon ice from nowhere at a Contest, wanted to be one. He was 6 at the time, and when he told his parents he wanted to be just like the performing Glaceon, they laughed and said he could be anything he wanted to be. He took that to heart. It became the core of himself=He grew up studying whatever he thought would help him reach his dream, and around age 20, he realized that the many classes, schools, and published works he took in were only giving him pieces of what he needed. The understanding of the human body was available, it was VERY well studied, but there were so many species of pokémon, and it was difficult for a civilian unaffiliated with any organization to acquire ANY knowledge of how a pokémon actually WORKS.

The man realized this, and saw the options available to him in his mind's eye: the Professor, respected by many: The Criminal; hated by the masses, The Mercenary, working for the highest bidder, regardless of personal beliefs.

'All of them!'

He shouts with his hands in the air like he just doesn't care!

'. . . The hell was that about?' His roommate asked,

'Deciding on my career path!' The young man said with a smile.

'It finally starts. . . I've waited so long.'

"What lies beyond the farthest reaches of the sky? I don't know, but I'm gonna fly!"

I SCREAM to the heavens, the tires screech echoing through the tunnel to the exit. Behind the car, a concoction of nerve and knock-out gas spews from every maintenance hatch and ventilation system in the facility I-My father, my self- just betrayed. Trembling, and face split into an expression more at home on a rabid vulpix, the scientist at the wheel screams his victory as he thinks of everything he can do, everything he can create, everything he can become! This feels, different* In drug induced concentration, going through escape route after escape route, wondering which to use, he reaches the woods and the myriad dangers hidden within, and instead of going through them, he goes under them.

BOOM Goes the car!

The man who used it, tears through the tunnel the burning car is parked over, his various containers of stolen research hanging off him like moneybags on a burglar. Which he is, but that doesn't matter.

Everything leaves a trail.

Is the thought that goes through the person's mind as he makes his way through the same woods several days later. Walking, or running, to his destination. The ocean, a beautiful expanse of blue.

I am definitely going to make a set of gills. Is what he thinks as he jumps off the cliff into the sea. Woha! Cold!

15 miles from the coastline of an ocean, deep in a cave, is a door disguised as a rock wall. Behind this door is a bunker, built to last. %Wait, isth- In the cave is- is- is-

Disconnecting

Gasping, I slowly become aware that I am on the floor, each sense comes on-line slowly, my brain feels like mush, everything is, slow.

I don't know how long I've been here.

I feel that in two ways, one: I don't know how long I have spent in that recording.

I woozily pull out the USB stick, let's not dive in while my brain is recovering.

Two: I don't know how long I was,. . in my egg.

Yes, that's why I need to get into the, ... record room, to see how long it's been.

Eventually, my head feels put-together enough to sit up.

My arms don't want to cooperate. They don't want to move like I remember in the recording- and that's the problem! I am not the Wallace of the recording; I am the Wallace of the now! We are so different! I have more hands, I have metal in me, I need to learn to move by myself.

Looking at the USB sticks scattered around the storage box, It would probably be best if I didn't use these until I have more of a grip on, myself.

Hmm, the carpet feels nice. Let's see, can I cross my legs? Yes, I can! Criss-cross applesauce! What a fun phrase!

I laugh and laugh to myself in my dual-toned voice, my speaker can make such weird noises!

Hmmm. I just realized what is wrong with my room. Nothing! I am just too tall! Hmm, thinking back, part of my legs dangled off the bed, and the stair railing was too short, ugh. I throw my head back in exasperation, then laugh when it effortlessly dangles backwards from my neck like a wet noodle.

Oh father! You really were an extraordinary man.

The thought sobers me. What happens now? A small metaphorical wet towel is thrown in my face with my own question, what does happen now? My father got his wish, sort of. Does it count when I can only remember part of his dream?

I hold up my forearm of ice and poison, as the others support my applesauce pose.

Hmmm.

I rotate it like a hotdog on its base, and revel in the ability to do so, with just a thought. Then let it fall against its mate, like a key on a keychain.

My father got his wish, and I reap its rewards. So back to the question, what now?

. . .

That question can wait.

Picking myself up, I decide that I need to learn how to use this body, I was only born a day ago after all. Looking at my four hands, each with sparks of magic flowing through them, I smile in my mind. I have everything ahead of me, and I cannot wait to see it.