“Battlefield of Chaos”
…more madness. Then nothing.
Then more insanity
More chaos
Not training. Conditioning
I become acclimated to the confusion;
I start to revel in it;
I come to be a part of it.
The sounds, the smells, the blinding lights
The pain, the degradation
None of it matters
Neither do I
As long as I do what I’m supposed to… and that’s a good thing
My senses,
my feelings,
my very life
They are all irrelevant
All that matters is the task before me
The battle begins as a symphony of harmonics
With each dimension suddenly,
violently
Revealing itself to the enemy
These dimensions curl down over their worlds
Compressing into an ever-tightening sensorial experience
For which they have no response
Save panic
And we
Who use such weapons
Are acclimated to confusion
We revel in it
We are a part of it
As we endow the arena of our enemies with confusion
We deliver unto them a battlefield of chaos
Over which they have no control
For which they have no training
Upon which they have no hope of dominion
They are just unwelcome visitors to our home
Temporary intruders in our world