Meanwhile inside the rebel’s base;
“I remember you, you know. I remember you fondly. Were you insane? Sure, but at least you knew what you wanted. Crack, booze and Jesus… you weren’t like me. You lived your life unrestrained and I…I was always restrained. I was restrained back then, and became more and more restrained as I built my little utopia. All that knowledge, all that power, all the good intentions I had…they were all just links on my chain.”
Act III: Monologue: The Nihilist
The nihilist,(not Bob or Jim or Christopher just the nihilist; This sad, jaded sacrifice to idealism, had never uttered a word to Adam regarding his name. Adam thought about this briefly but then thought that it may be for the best, not knowing and all. A name like any other symbol only hold meaning through action), picked up a jagged piece of shrapnel and in an all too swift motion brought it to his neck. Blood, (a deeper, sicker shade of red than anything some overtly self-indulgent, out-of-touch narrator could describe), flew from the twisted wound where his throat used to be, splattering the dust coated world Adam found himself on, in a thin red mist. The corrosive atmosphere, barely clinging to the small planetoid’s girth, evaporated what little remained of the old man’s corpse in a matter of seconds, (like a speedup film sequence of army ants devouring some bloated animal remains, rotting in the jungle’s humid stench), too quickly for Adam to mourn him. Too quickly for him to mourn the tragedy of the small inevitable things, Existence, entropy truth remain, unanswered yes, but somehow lingering on.
Final Scene; Vignette/Ideas.
The two disembodied minds sat down in the grassy filed being generated before them.