The beginnings of a great mystery. [b]Day 4: 04:23 Gereza[/b] Day four was the same as day three. Order was maintained. Even with the arrival of several high profiled convicts, the days were consistent. No screams were heard but be assured they were there. No falling tree analogy should be entertained. They were real. Many souls detained, a lesser sum released. One man awaited his fate within a dream-esque state induced by the dimension that confined him. He too wondered if he’d fall victim to the same fate as the many others who entered the narrow gates of Gereza. Or did he? His name? Not important in the eyes of the system. His origin? He was no citizen for sure. Who was this prisoner? Perhaps the greater question was who would bail this miserable soul out? Birched among others who ultimately sinned, he was just another. Those incarcerated within the dimensional cells of the penitentiary were commonly subject to insanity; Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days, days felt like months and months like years. A minor sentence was more comparable to that of an eternity in a place where the only publicly known method of torture was time. This was fitting for a civilization as such. Just like the others prisoner #3091 would have to wait it out. [b]Day 1: Gereza[/b] The enjoyment of leisure was something that escaped Sinclair. Never did that deter him from the task of accomplishing his goal however. Feelings often were locked away and most knew him as a man of few emotions but rest assure his thoughts ran rampant often. Emotion to him was a weakness. Everything that put him in his exact spot he credited to focusing on his ideals entirely, which were his and only his. Yes, in a world completely consumed by religion Sinclair was in fact agnostic. Nothing to him was for certain and he could only go by the standards he set for himself. Those standards were to create and preserve order. When entering the narrow gates of Gereza you are in fact entering a dimension of his domain. Not only did he reside there but the entire establishment was his revolutionary idea to completely contain those who went against society. A society in disarray was probably the only thing he ultimately feared. Order was the only way Cizrans were able to advance to the excellence that they have been nearing. He believed this to a fault however. No matter what the social conditions were and how unjust society was Sinclair defended the status quo with an indiscriminate iron fist. Many times literally administering what he saw as social consistency with his own rugged hands. This was the case for #3091. Though his containment was successful the exchange did not go without affecting Sinclair mentally. This was an extremely rare feat. In fact you can say those words begin to corrupt him and cause him to stray from his self created standard he idolized. Prisoner #3091 looked him dead in the eye and spoke this… “I’m not threatening you but I’m a magnet for bad luck. Though I came to this planet knowing this, the curse upon me is real and you need to acknowledge that. I wish I was bluffing but I’m really not. A lot of shit is going to go down because of you. Because I’m so thoughtful I actually intended to leave within a certain timeframe. The longer you keep me the more I get to see this theory of mine come into fruition.” After hearing the rambling speech directed at him Sinclair then showcased one of the few expressions he was capable of showing. A smug look filled his face for a quick duration showing just how much arrogance he possessed, his gesture laughing at just the possibility of being wrong. “What a bunch of bullshit” he scoffed. As he began to turn away, the portal containing the prisoner began to close but he had much more to say apparently. “I thought I was being courteous but I’ll get out in due time. I’m quite the commodity in the galaxy. And by the way… You should do some research on some of the origins of the pantheon you people on this planet live under. An uncle tom like yourself might be shocked to find out just how much it relates to class you seem to have left behind.” It puzzled Sinclair that this mysterious man knew so much about him. It was clear his sources were of some of the best in the universe. Though most records of his birth have been erased he was once again reminded of the life he left behind long ago. To almost assure himself he was indeed right he decided to go back to the scene of the incident which was a rarity in itself. It was time to visit a place in which he had never analyzed but always respected. The Shrine of Tsathoskr was Sinclair’s next destination… [b]Day 5 (Present Day)[/b] It took sometime for Sinclair to reach the temple that bizarrely enough was a mystery to him. He didn’t have the freedom to just leave Gereza without supervision. When he did leave the howling sandstorms were at levels that made it almost impossible for air travel and so he journeyed land. With what looked similar to an ATV with a spherical protective dome of metal and exceptionally durable glass, Sinclair treaded the numerous dunes with relative ease. The dense and tough exterior of the vehicle weathered particularly well, dispatching a pair of grappler arms to regain balance whenever needed. Just a day after setting out he was closing in on his desired location. As a basis of education the understanding of all deities were taught to him. He knew them well, and with the knowledge he attained he took one core principle to heart, Perce. Following this he never questioned the deity that was Tsathoskr or any of the others despite his primal beliefs. With that said, In the back of his mind existed a sense of fear he did not quite understand. That feeling of unease brought him to the temple opposed to the various others and that alone. To fully live by Perce meant that with human nature in mind no one will truly understand everyone or thing and that it should be accounted for. In the wrong context Perce could be used to justify segregation and oppression, thus spawning the world he currently lived in. The fact that he arrested prisoner #3091 due to opposing the institution itself proved this entirely. #3091 was the polar opposite of Sinclair. As he represented chaos Sinclair was a man of order. Little did he know however that as smart as he was, he had made a grave mistake, leaving the new detainee in Gereza alone. There perhaps wouldn’t be any fatal consequences but he wouldn’t escape the fact that capturing the man might have been a little too easy… The pot was surely to be stirred. It was only a matter of when.