Half-Life

"Wake, Gyah."

- The Catalyst to Gyah, Half-Life

Half-Life: Gyah's Awakening is the fourth and final, as of yet unreleased, installment of the Early Sunsets Arc by BZPower and C.I.R.C.L.E. member Cap'n K. The story will conclude the four-part saga in the perspective of Gyah and a series of flashbacks all related to the Gikk Maha and Kiriva.

Preview: The Birth
Archivus was not typically a distracted individual. It was just… the stone.

His eyes drifted from the cartographs on his desk to the almost round gem, covered in polygonal faces. The thing was gold and transparent, but when it caught the light reflected the whole spectrum of color like some strange diamond. It was… enticing.

No, thought the Great Being, shielding his face and shaking his head to clear his mind. Using it as a paperweight was no good, no. In a daze of irritation at himself, Archivus lifted the stone in his hand to put it away. Even weighing it in his hand was something marvelous. It wasn’t quite heavy for its size, no, but it surely was not light, either. It was almost as if its air of ominousness made it even heavier than it should have been, yet was still simple enough to—.

“No,” Archivus muttered aloud. “I can’t let this get to me.”

As rapidly as he could, without taking the time to think about it, he opened a desk drawer and placed the Gikk Maha within.

“Back to my plans,” he muttered, suddenly noticing how frequently he’d been talking to himself. It was… the stone. “No, no, no!” he cursed. “Not that wretched thing again! Work! I must work!”

Archivus set his quill down on the pad again and began to meticulously map the volume of xg-morridox needed to fully fill the dome. He lifted a compass and lowered it to the page, but even so couldn’t remove the stone from his mind. He ground his teeth together and drove his fist down upon the table. No. There were more important—.

“Archivus!” exclaimed the familiar voice of the midwife from the other room, and for some reason he knew… it was time.

“Is it coming?” Archivus gasped, the color draining from his face and all thoughts of the stone being wiped clear from his head.

“Yes!” cried Mirium in a strained voice.

The Great Being stood, and without hesitation dropped all his work and darted into the other room. When he entered, the midwife stood at the foot of the bed, trying to calm Mirium, whose bulging belly was visible beneath the piles of blankets keeping her warm. Mirium’s face was knotted, her eyes cranked shut, apparently in pain.

“Just breathe,” commanded the midwife. “It will all be over soon.”

Mirium nodded, and then opened her eyes to look at Archivus. Archivus smiled proudly, but Mirium’s eyes dropped to Archivus’s hand, and astonishment struck her face. “Mirium, what—?”

“Why did you bring that stone?” Mirium cried. Then her eyes clenched shut in pain again, and she roared aloud.

“Just hold on,” breathed the midwife.

Archivus looked down into his hand, and the Gikk Maha seemed to mock him from below. “I… didn’t know!”

“Take it out of the room!”

“It’s okay, Mirium. Breathe. The baby is coming.”

Harsh inhale. Harsh exhale.

“I really had no idea—”

“I don’t want that around the child! Return it—.” Desperate cries.

“Keep on pushing. Relax. It’s almost over.”

“Take it out of the room!”

“Mirium, this is absurd! It’s just—”

A roar in pain.

“Just do what she says. Take the stone away.”

Desperate cries.

Then silence.

“Mirium. Archivus.” The midwife raised the infant up into her arms, and swiftly cut the cord that connected it to Mirium. “Meet your son.”

“Mirium,” Archivus smiled, tears welling in his eyes. Again, the Gikk Maha was forgotten. He squeezed her hand, but there was no response. “Mirium.”

He looked into her eyes, open wide and staring. Her lips moved feebly, but Archivus couldn’t understand. The room spun around him, and he needed to sit.

After a moment, he was being roused by the midwife. He’d blacked out.

“She’s… gone,” she said.

Archivus stared blankly at nothing in particular, and before he knew it there was an infant wrapped in blankets in his arms. He was still dizzy.

“Her last wish was for you to name him… to name him—”