Dr ja'n
— Recovered fragment, attributed to Merrick, Warlord of the Taiyō Oni
(Translation unstable. Several sections reconstructed by Dr. J'an)
I do not know when it began.
There was no step. No transition. No moment I can point to and say—there.
The world simply…
stopped being what it was.
The only way I can describe it is—
violently violet.
Not color.
Not light.
Something deeper.
As if the idea of color itself had been replaced.
The mountains, the sky, the ground—everything was still there, but not correctly. Edges felt wrong. Distance did not behave. Space folded into itself in ways I could not understand.
I remember trying to breathe.
I do not remember succeeding.
Then—
I saw it.
Or I believe I did.
It is difficult to say.
To see implies understanding.
There was no understanding.
There was only… more.
So much more that my mind could not hold it.
Every time I try to remember what I saw, something is missing. Not forgotten—removed.
Like the thought itself refuses to exist.
It felt like drowning.
Not in water.
In something without shape.
Something that filled every part of me and left no room for anything else.
My body moved.
No.
That is not correct.
Something within me forced movement.
I fell.
Not by choice.
Not from fear.
There was simply no version of reality where I remained standing.
Everything in me bowed.
Everything.
I tried to look up.
I remember trying.
But the moment the thought formed—
it disappeared.
Not interrupted.
Erased.
Then it—
spoke.
No.
That is not the word.
Speech is sound. Breath. Language.
This was none of those things.
It did not speak.
It imposed.
Meaning entered me without passing through thought.
A single intention.
Clear.
Absolute.
Rise.
I do not remember moving.
I do not remember deciding.
There was only—
rise.
And I was standing.
I looked at it.
Or I think I did.
And for a moment…
I understood nothing.
Not fear.
Not self.
Not even the idea of "I."
There was only—
violet.
Violently violet.
Its form—
No.
Not form.
Form suggests limits.
It was something pretending to be a shape.
A figure, perhaps.
Wearing something like a robe.
But that is not correct either.
It would be more accurate to say—
violet is the robe.
Not that the robe is violet.
The distinction matters.
Everything about it was too much of what it was.
Its eyes—
Or what I understood as eyes—
Were white.
But even that is a lie.
They carried a softness of that same violent violet.
Not glowing.
Not shining.
Existing in a way that made all other colors feel incorrect.
Its hair—
Gray.
Black.
The only part of it that felt…
less.
Almost normal.
Which made it more unsettling.
Because it suggested restraint.
Deliberate imperfection.
It looked at me.
And I—
stopped.
There was no "me."
Not for a moment.
I was violently violet.
No.
That is still wrong.
There was no "I" to be.
There was only—
us.
And us was not equal.
Not even close.
Us was a fragment.
A piece.
A thought that did not belong to itself.
I was inside something greater.
No—
I was being defined by something greater.
Like a word inside a sentence I could not read.
Like a blade that did not understand the hand that held it.
I do not know how long that lasted.
Time did not exist in a way I could recognize.
Then—
it looked away.
And suddenly—
I returned.
Not slowly.
Not gradually.
Violently.
Like being torn out of something infinite and forced back into something small.
Into—
me.
And then it imposed its will again.
Not louder.
Not stronger.
Just as absolute.
Interesting.
A pause.
Then—
You still are you.
The moment those meanings settled—
the world broke back into itself.
The mountains were mountains again.
The sky returned.
The air moved.
Sound existed.
And I was standing there.
Alone.
Breathing.
My body shaking.
My thoughts… mine again.
I touched my chest.
My face.
My arms.
Confirming something that should have been obvious.
I was still—
Merrick.
Warlord of the Taiyō Oni.
I was still me.
…
But now I understand something.
Power is not the same as greatness.
And what I saw—
what I failed to see—
was not powerful.
It was something else entirely.