The Many Faces of Evil

Boats had not been invented, really, and I no longer had wings, so getting to the middle of the Mediterranean Sea would be a bit of a problem. I would have to find out if my new human body tired. I took off my robe and my tunic and dove into the salt water in nothing but my trousers. It was simple minutes before I felt weighed down. Shit.

100,000 years, though; Beelzebub would not allow me to die.

I kept swimming for hours. Luckily, Atlantis was a large island, and the Mediterranean Sea was much smaller without it. It was only about 50 miles out from any coast. I settled on the beach, resting for a moment. When I opened my eyes, twelve shadows flashed over my head. Dumbly, I threw Solaris at the floating specters. It landed ten meters away. Too tired for anything, I blacked out.

***

When I came around, I was floating in the middle of the Mediterranean, looking around for where I had just been laying. The only trace of Atlantis on the surface of this planet was a plume of black smoke. Once again, I lost consciousness.

***

November 5, 5883 B.C.

That is the date assigned to the day I arrived, according to modern reckoning. I would never want to calculate the day I would leave, but I would await that day with open arms.

"This is just the beginning," I told myself.

"Fucking wonderful," I responded to my own statement.

Oh, wonderful; Beelzebub gave my body a mental illness.

Well, schizophrenia sounds like tons of fun.

Get it? Schizophrenia... sounds...?

That wasn't even funny, Daniel.

Don't judge me.

That's why I'm here.

This is going to be fucking wonderful, I can just tell...