Jim Bass floated in the amniotic sac filled with a warm green solution—body temperature. He slept soundly in the fetal position, his mind stimulated by the extra terrestrial serum in which he was enveloped. Scenes of his life flashed before his eyes. He recalled every fond memory from his first bike to his honeymoon. He was comfortable. Happy even.

“This is useless,” said General Ax. “The human brain reacts to the serum by saturating itself with dopamine thereby occupying all active neuro receptors.”

“Indeed, Sir,” said Lieutenant Crix. “A clever bio-dynamic defense mechanism. Perhaps we’ve underestimated these creatures.”

“We cannot afford to underestimate such a volatile creature,” said Ax sternly. “No. We need answers,” he paused as considered their next move. “Prepare the Meld Interface.”

“But, sir, it has not been adequately tested on the human species,” said Crix urgently. “We have no way of knowing what dangers you may encounter.”

“The Meld has been utilized for similar species. Remember the bi-pedal fur sacs of Kereon? Its DNA matches that of the human by 75%—that will have to be assurance enough,” said Ax as he began removing his uniform. “The risk these creatures pose to us far outweighs the risk to my mind and the needs of the many trumps the needs of the few. Make preparations.”

The Meld Interface was a large cylindrical tube filled with a blue serum, thicker in consistency than that which filled Jim’s amniotic sac. General Ax climbed into the solution and sat at the bottom of the tube with his six appendages wrapped tightly around his thorax. He nodded to Crix, partly to signal that he was prepared, partly to encourage his Lieutenant to do his job.

Crix connected two tubes between the cylinder and the sac. He returned to his terminal station and input the command to initiate the Meld Interface. With a whir the green fluid from the sac was pumped into Ax’s cylinder just as the blue fluid from Ax was pumped into the sac. In unison the two beings began to thrash and convulse in their respective containers—violent and unnatural.

And then, for General Ax, everything went dark.

Ax opened his eyes and found himself sitting in a small room with limestone walls. The light was dim, but he could see just enough to make out a single door and a humanoid standing beside it. The very human from the sac!

“It’s you!” Shouted Ax. “How—how are you here? The Meld Interface does not allow for simultaneous inhabitance of a mind. You should be within my mine at this moment!”

Jim laughed, a jarringly abrupt and aggressive gesture as perceived by Ax. “Humans are not that simple, Thraxian. We exist on multiple levels simultaneously. We contain multitudes. I am what is called a sub-conscious.”

“How do you know my species? You have no previous experience of my kind,” said Ax with concern.

“For a species with such advanced technology, you sure are naive,” said the Jim directly. “You really think you could observe us without us observing you back? If you can see us, we can see you. Simple as that.

“That you’ve gotten this far tells me that you’ve seen what we spend our time doing. You really thought we’d build such weapons and not have our eyes fixed to the outside? That we wouldn’t find any and all threats in the sky? Come on, Thraxian. You’re smarter than that.”

Ax knew immediately that Crix had been right, the Thraxian had made that fatal mistake which countless others had made before them.

They had underestimated the humans.

“You’re right, human. We are—“

“Jim,” interrupted Jim. “Call me Jim.”

“Jim,” the word was foreign in Ax’s mouth. It felt less like a name and more like an onomatopoeia for the noise the Thraxians made when they ate. “I am called Ax. But you are right, Jim. We are smarter than that. This is why I am here. I am to learn about your people, I must learn your motivations. This place is,” he paused to search for the proper word, “more barren than I am accustomed to.”

Jim again let out a laugh. Ax wondered if that was a sign of anger or happiness. Regardless, he hated the sound. “Barren. Did you just call me an empty headed dumbass? Where I come from those are fighting words, Ax,” he joked. Ax didn’t understand humor and steeled himself for a battle.

Ax raised two pincers in front of him and spread his other four legs out in a ready stance. “Then a fight you shall have, human!” He roared.

Jim again chuckled. Ax now knew this noise was a sign of aggression. He ran toward Jim who raised his arms quickly. “Woah, woah, woah, big guy,” said Jim. “I was just joking. You know, like, jesting? Joshing? Making humorous words. I wasn’t serious.”

Ax’s thorax burned bright red, apparently the universal color of embarrassment. “I apologize. I misunderstood.”

“The fault is all mine,” said Jim a gracious host. “Look, you’re right. This place is empty. Just this door right here. Your—what did you call it?”

“Meld Interface,” said Ax helpfully.

“Right. Your Meld Interface landed you in a very specific part of my mind. This is called The Region of Repression. This is where we lock away the memories we’d rather not face: the hard truths, the unimaginable sadnesses. I’m here to stand guard.”

“So you’ll not let me pass? We shall battle after all, Jim?” Said Ax, surprised at his own disappointment.

Jim laughed again. Ax again steeled himself for an attack. “Not all all, bud,” said Jim. “I’m not here to make sure you don’t get in.”

“Then why are you standing guard?” Asked Ax.

“I’m here to make sure nothing gets out,” said Jim as he stepped aside and gestured to the door. “By all means, be my guest. But tread lightly; the human mind is a dangerous place.”

More in the next comment. r/InMyLife42Archive

"You don't want to open that." The guard was dressed in strange garb, almost like a human soldier, but also jester-like, as if he couldn't quite decide how serious he was about his occupation. I had been waiting ages to begin this particular experiment, so his strange appearance was not about to deter me.

"Yes, I do. This is the whole reason I've traveled across the universe... to examine creatures so primitive and yet, so perplexing." Perhaps I could reason with the man. I could, of course, force my way into the deep recesses of the human's brain, but then I would risk fracturing the specimen's mind. That wouldn't do since I had already reached my abduction quota for the quarter. Patience and cunning would be the best path. "Step aside, and I promise to simply observe and not damage any of the neurons or processes I encounter."

"Well, alright then." The colorful soldier said cheerfully as he stepped aside. I could hardly contain my excitement. I had succeeded. I was finally going to observe the internal workings of the elusive earthling. My findings would surely be published in scientific papers across the galaxy!

Slowly, I opened the heavy metal door and peered inside. My initial observation upon poking my head in was simply a quiet darkness. Had I been forewarned of what I would encounter beyond the threshold, I would have gone no further. But ignorant of what awaited me, I ventured through to find the discovery of my career.

It only took a moment in that tiny room before the pain and shouting began. It was everywhere... noise... flashing lights... confusion. I have never been so over-stimulated in my life! I immediately turned to retreat, only to find the metal door shut tight behind me.

"Let me out!" I banged on the door in desperation. This was not at all what I had intended. I hadn't brought the proper equipment to withstand such calamity. "You must open the door!" I screamed.

"Can't do that." The soldier's voice was as even as before, completely untroubled by my predicament. "It's my job to keep all trauma sealed away. I can't let you out until it returns to its dormant state."

"No, please!" I didn't know how much longer I could handle this. I hadn't expected nor prepared to withstand the intense commotion I was experiencing this deep into the specimen's consciousness. More blaring alarms and random screams filled my ears. I began to feel dizzy. "Please! How long am I trapped in here?"

"No, one knows." The soldier said. I fanned my face and leaned against the door. What had I gotten myself into?

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the commotion stopped. I looked around me, finding only darkness and silence once again. Slowly, the metal door opened, and I fell out of the room and onto the Subconscious room floor. The soldier-jester blinked at me but said nothing as he shut the door behind me. I didn't care. I was just grateful to see a familiar face.

"What was that?" I asked when I finally found the courage to speak.

"Suppressed childhood trauma. We don't go in there." The soldier answered matter-of-factly.

"I can see why." I answered and bolted for the exit.

Shirley, that had been her name before she had joined the thousands of corpses near the border of the bombing site. The humans had resisted initially, but there was only so much that limited minds could achieve against transcendent beings who had long ago shed their physical forms. Absolute prediction was in place, once again, in human society - every word known, every breath monitored, every echo heard, every hope shattered.

V had been watching her quite intently. There was nothing new to learn, but it was a hobby he had taken up after learning about the human concept of a "miracle". Many human concepts had found their way into the colonizers' minds, carried by a wave of thoughts similar to what humans would have called "nostalgia" - the gender, absurd love, self-destructive actions, revolts.

He found it fascinating - how the colonizers, supposedly a superior life form, were learning so many new things from a Type-R civilization. Access to the human world was limited even for investigators.

10 years he thought. It had been 10 years since the new government had been established on Earth, yet the human brain, at its core, remained an ever-changing enigma. It was possible to predict their actions, but most of their actual motivations remained hidden. Only the tune was heard, but the tune was too simple. The lyrics and the emotion and the beats, all remained hidden. Many of the colonizers believed that it was futile to read something that seemed to change from the core every second. Those who possessed human emotions, even for trying them out, were terrified. Accelerated evolution had never been witnessed before.

One of his eyes saw the tentacles carry the girl into the expanded synapse fluid. She was dressed in some form of ornamental clothing, its glistening white no more, covered in blood.

But she was still alive.

His awareness ring expanded as it rotated to contain the signals flowing from her mind into his. When humans of these times were on the verge of death, the mind produced an incredibly loud "roar", that was dismissed by many as the noise created as a result of the mind trying to save itself by creating its own world of memory.

After all, stories were unique to humans.

It was as if he would greet the girl as she embarked on her journey. Since the colonizers' world had a faster speed of time than the human one, such investigations usually took one to five human weeks from their perspective, although it would only be an instant for the subject.

One of his eyes entered into the cave that always appeared, while all the others intently watched, collecting petabytes of data every second. He saw himself from high above, as a man wearing a similar garment, but charcoal black. The "roar" was active, and reality was more vivid than usual. The black on his body was the darkest black he had ever seen.

The cave moved over him, taking him deeper and deeper. His other eyes had realised that something was out of the usual, but the inner eye was cut off from this information for the sake of collecting new experiences.

The girl stood before him, her eyes a perfect, full white.

"Intruder" she said. "What is your purpose?"

The eye of translation didn't respond, along with most of the other ones. It was only him - a small, original piece of the existence he was now, alone in a strange place. "I can't understand" he tried to express, making the most appropriate hand gestures based on what he could recall.

The girl disappeared, and a voice spoke to him in his own language.

"What brings you here, child?"

At last, I reached my destination. It is not the first time I have reached the human subconcious, but navigating their thoughts was far from straightforward. The right word, when well placed, can bring you exactly where you need to go, but one wrong move can completely unravel the path you have made, and replace it with a complicated web of emotions and thoughts too tangled to unravel in a single voyage.

At the entrance of the subconcious, I came across two doors where my previous expeditions on other humans had only revealed one. The one I was expecting appeared as a simple, wooden construction that was ill fitted to its frame, and, as usual, the lock was absent, and the manifestation guarding it appeared half asleep. I knew this door contained the more... unfortunate reaches of human curiosity, often referred to as "intrusive" thoughts, categorized by their largely self-destructive nature. I have learned that opening that door is largely unproductive and could jeopardize the voyage.

The door I was far more interested in was the larger and far more sturdy, metal door, rusted with age but still tightly sealed, and though the manifestation guarding it appeared far more attentive than the other, it made no move to stop me as I carefully worked on opening the lock that sealed it shut.

After successfully removing the lock, I carefully opened the door and took a look inside. Sealed within were memories of an absent parent, whose absenses were more often than not broken with slurred speech, hate-filled eyes, and bruises that lingered longer than the one who made them. Also present were the pains and worries caused by their words, that still festered and ate away at the mind. Sitting beside these older memories were far fresher ones, such as the final moments of a friend spent holding in their vitals and assuring them that they will be fine, scenes of violence suffused with the sounds of gunfire and the smells of smoke and blood, and of possessions left on the front lawn by a partner that had not waited fot their return.

Rolling up my sleeves, I got to work, for there was a lot to do, and the reward of seeing another patient safely off could not come soon enough.

The Wisp had great experience with mazes of the mind. These white matter substructures of sprawling neural networks can reveal deep secrets and motivations, often ones the being itself hasn't even begun to understand. This time started like so many others, the Wisp writhing and tunneling its finest hair tentacles deeper and deeper.

The Wisp soaked in the initial pang of panic and alarm of the creature as it traveled up its central spine; it knew this feeling well and delighted in it for a moment. It meant the first step was successful, that it was embedding deeply into the crevices. Wrapping and weaving the tentacles around the mesh of dark and delicate connections, giving a squeeze here or a twist there to let the creature know that something was there, and that resistance was helpless. That all hope was lost. The pokes and prods and drugs and chemicals and tests of the creatures couldn't even detect its presence, let alone extricate it--no, this species was far too primitive for that.

Usually unlocking the inner core felt like the break of a dam or the pop of a pimple, the pressure building and brimming forth until the weight and gore of memories and emotions spilled forth for the Wisp to eat. But. But this was different.

The Wisp felt a sudden slip, the thick knot of nerves somehow instantly untangled all at once instead of caving to the pressure. It was confused and enraged, and also, though the Wisp would never admit it, panicked.

Instead of the web of deep remembrances upon which to feast, there was a door. An old, rusty, ancient door that was clearly very heavy. One of the creatures stood outside it and alongside, but not in the hazy, lazy way that glimmers and memories exist. As solid as the door itself.

"Hi", the creature said to the Wisp, the serious face of the guard slightly betrayed by a minuscule upturn at the corner of the mouth. It was clearly very pleased it unsettled the Wisp. And damn, this reverie was deserved. "You probably didn't expect that, huh?"

In its panic, the Wisp wasn't sure what to do, other than to try and escape. It extended its tendrils along with the rest of its threaded body in a flash to the door, hoping against hope the wooden portal wouldn't be as solid as it initially appeared. That it could evade this awful creature and feast another day.

And all at once, with just the slightest push, the door swung open. Where there was usually delicious dark locked away, was light. There was an instant of recognition--it was a trap, and the Wisp suddenly knew all. All of the hidden plans and desires and machinations it didn't see before. The scream echoed across the space as the light severed the connection into ash.

---_-

The Wisp awoke with a jolt, back in the room with the others a million light-years but a single, thin, dimension away. "They know about us!!" it cried out in a panic, feeling its own life slipping away. "They know about us and THEY ARE COMING!"

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