Never in my lifetime would I have expected to grow from nothing, like a flower blossoming from a tiny seed in high speed motion. Not only that was bizarre, I had also sprouted into an utterly alien world.
Everywhere I looked I saw flesh. Pulsating, undulating arrays of it.
Fractals of flesh intertwined in surreal formations, columns of flesh rising upwards like gargantuan trees of a living, breathing forest made of organs, sinews and muscles. Luminescent orange and red lights twinkled across organic strands in perpetually changing patterns of crimson starlight.
Biomatrix hung from the ceiling, held up by black, twisted branches and ligaments.
"I see you have a theme going here." I commented at her.
"This is how we eat planets, Charles."
I shuddered feeling grossed out at the thought of 116 planets somewhere out there covered with forests of flesh.
I also noticed that I was butt naked.
"Where are my pants, dear?"
In an answer to my query, spider-like limbs extended from her towards me.
"Repair protocol in progress"
she muttered dispassionately.
Thin, needly legs rapidly started to weave my tour guide uniform, right on top of me.
It was unnerving to watch. I tried not to move, concerned that she'd sew something to me.
Staying still made me more conscious of the fleshscape stretching from beneath my feet into cavernous expanse of the moon's interior.
The forest of flesh felt like a vast, complex 5th limb.
This limb was also on fire.
Elsewhere it was: drowning, getting irradiated, exploding, imploding, being crushed and mutilated in countless ways.
I became progressively more aware of the tremendous struggle of the flesh-forest against something enormous... against the inorganic sentience of the Moon itself.
The moon machines, terraformers, constructoids, maintenance and defense systems were engaged in a three, no... four, five and so on dimensional war with us.
The deeper I delved and analyzed it, the more layered and complex the conflict became.
Biomatrix was laying out all of her dirty cards, like an experienced player of planetary warfare. The fractals of flesh were composing and broadcasting viruses into the machines communication systems, sabotaging, disrupting and even taking over some of them. Wherever this occurred, the battle stretched infinitely into digital spaces.
Out in the solid world ion beams and neutron detonations flashed, trying to burn us away with ionizing radiation.
It didn't work as intended. Biomatrix was a child of the Dead Zone, apt to breaking time to reach her goals. The entirety of the forest of flesh was being anchored into the save point system like a single, multilayered body of a human subject Charles Snippy that was hugging the Moon from within. This made burning us out with nuclear hellfire a complicated issue for the machines.
I observed two monstrous, conniving intelligences, bred by the Good Directorate as metal struggled against flesh for lunar dominion. This escalating process of multilayered conflict was beginning to dismantle the Moon.
I decide to let Biomatrix handle it, letting go of the spiraling complexity of destruction.
She probably knew what she was doing...