However, light essentially fades beneath the canopy of dark foliage around it. Upon further scrutiny, several areas of Soran were nearly lost to the constant turmoil and destruction boiling beneath the surface. Where an angelic peace once reigned, the barbaric natures of the organisms that lived upon the primitive planet now raged. Amongst such bestial creatures thrived the dragons, and upon their numbers was Zucroas born.
An Adolescent Dragon
In Zucroasâ youth, he was disciplined to grow and develop, just as the majority of the others were. However timid the dragon may have been, he was a constantly kindred spirit.
What separated Zucroas from the rest of his clan was his unusual lack of scales, or rather their flat, streamline texture and proportions; marking him out as a hybrid between an ocean-dwelling sea-dragon and a sky-riding lightning-dragon. These traits were both emphasized and contradicted by his pale-white skin, and his oceanic-blue eyes, sharp snout and abnormally small frame which combined both the human and draconic anatomies.
For this, Zucroas was bullied, picked on, harassed about his so-called âworthlessnessâ-- his âinabilityâ to become something more than what he was. Yet in spite of what some may call a curse, others have seen farâŠfar worse, especially Zucroas.
As time passed, Zucroas began to train alongside humans, honing his ability to manipulate the electromagnetic spectrum by practicing the basic fundamentals of human-combat: punching, kicking. Muscles were forced beyond their limits, by moving boulders several times his size, then shattering them with his skull. Entire bluffs were brought down, by pulse after pulse, explosion after explosion of pure electrical energy. (8)
After hearing word of Zucroas being part sea-dragon, he was brought to the ocean to practice his hunting techniques. Of course, one would think that a simple burst of raw electric power would do the job, but his job was to kill enough to feed himself and those around him, not annihilate everything 500+ miles out. Catching minuscule fish with his claws alone wasnât going to do the job either â too slippery. SoâŠunfortunately for Zucroas, big game was the only game.
Surprisingly enough, swimming came easy for Zucroas, especially when they saw the bulk he had gained from putting his body through rigorous training every day. Every time he hunted, it was like watching a seagull flying underwater, only the seagull was actually a dragon, pumping his wings and swishing his tail, as he torpedoed into Great Whites, punched through Orcas, and use an Octopus as a wrecking ball to fend off any locals looking to steal from him. (8)
With his stamina now at its pique, Zucroas was able to spend massive amounts of energy, without tiring for days on end â days that eventually became weeks, and weeks that eventually became months. It was time for him to master the art of flying, taking off in sprints that no beast his size shouldâve been capable of. He would be forced into position, in which heâd have to pump his wings at speeds barely enough to get him off the ground, though it definitely felt good to be able to move that fast.
Soon, the dragon was able to kick himself off the ground and with that, take massive bounds into the sky with very little effort, and over the course of a few months, stay in the sky. (7)
And so, it seemed that Zucroasâ training had finally paid off â no longer the blue-eyed weakling that that couldnât even lift a maple-tree, but now something that lay to waste entire forests with a single burst of elemental power, silence those around him with an earth-shattering roar, and beat down anyone who would ever attempt to shove him around again.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
The Massacre
Suddenly, a dark shadow cast over the sky, as if and sun itself has blacked out. Heads turned as a soft vibrating noise echoed throughout the vicinity.
The clouds were holding something malicious upon their feathery surface, and Zucroas' instincts told him it would prove interesting. As the mid afternoon sky turned into dawn, the clouds hazed over and parted, to allow some sort of... thing, into Soran. It was nothing like Zucroas had ever imagined before; intricate machinery and microchips of far more intelligent life-forms were clinging to the outer shell of the shuttle.
Many curious murmurs invaded the initial silence, followed by a wave of fear. Creatures were naturally cautious around foreign entities, but something deep in Zucroas' gut told him something was definitely not right. The mammoth ship paused momentarily, and the dead, curious silence ...returned -- waiting for some level of communication, some form of movement, anything.
Zucroas hesitated, his eyes immediately focusing as the ship emanated a low, deep whirring noise. It was doing something, and he didn't like the feeling that ripped into his gut, screaming at him to run. But he was far too interested now, his gaze locked upon the shipâŠ
Instantaneously, compartments encasing the entirety of it slid open with a reluctant-sounding whine, and Zucroas quickly lost count as the swarming number of pods dropping from the ship turned into a horde, some sort of movement. An invasion. All hell broke loose as the shell-like pods broke away from the animosity within themâŠ
Some say that the Plague was the only âBlack Deathâ, however that notion is quickly abandoned, and left to be devoured and then shat out by the ravenous swarm of Xenomorphs: alien life-forms that have existed for thousands upon thousands of years; bio-engineered by men of other worlds, and weaponized by beings of even greater magnitude.
They appeared as black, serpent-like creatures, donning insect-like exoskeletons covered in a glossy coat of slime secreting from the microscopic pores that covered their entire bodies. Some were bulky bipeds with four dorsal-spines protruding from their backs while the quadripeds were clearly lacking in that department, though their speed more than made up for it.
Their purpose: frighteningly simple: to exterminate all life upon Soran, and leave nothing more than a barren wasteland, for the âcontrollersâ to redesign the planet, and remodel it after their own needs and desires.
Then, they began to move with a feline grace, hissing and then shrieking before suddenly, all at once they charged the clan of dragons and their human companions. Surprisingly enough, the humans with their magical spells, and divine gifts were able to fend off the Xenomorphs; blowing a rather nice chunk out of their offensive assault, only to be eaten away by a rain of sewage-green blood with enough acidic potency to dissolve even the strongest of metals in a matter of seconds.
The chaos didnât end there however noâŠit wasnât over â not by a longshot. Spindly black tails with scythe-like blades at the end stabbed into the ones fortunate enough not to be consumed by their acidic blood. Impaled on the lengthy appendages and still living, the Xenomorphs begun to feast on their succulent flesh, ignoring the cacophonous symphony of agonizing screams as they were quickly silenced by an internal jaw, punching through their skulls and reeling in precious brain-matter.
Zucroas wasâŠenraged by this, thrown into a state of pure and utter bloodlust. Pupils contracted to the point of non-existence, becoming first transparent and then translucent, and then staticky. It was a visual representation of his consciousness, reasonability, rationality, and all other aspects of what made up who he was flickering in and out.
The very same thing was going with other members of Zucroasâ clan, no longer capable of holding back their emotions, as though someone had taken a knife and severed the intricately woven threads of their blankets.
The blankets that kept them warm at nightâŠ
The blankets that shielded them from nuclear frightâŠ
Safe from dangerâŠ
Safe from these strangersâŠ
And what might you ask, did they do? They charged back, they fought back, they killed them back.
They grabbed the Xenomorphs by their mouths, and crushed them in their hands, unaffected by their acidic blood due to it evaporating on contact with the electrical energy surrounding them, and rendering it completely and utterly harmless, or so they first thought. Zucroas, more specifically multiplied that brutality tenfold, then, multiplied it by a hundred, then a thousand, then a billion, until his brain had finally run out of ideas to kill these things with.
But, then something even more terrible happened, the blood that had seemingly evaporated into something harmless began settling within their lungs. Saturating, and returning back to its liquid form with the newfound warmth acquired from entering their heat-filled bodies, thus â returning to it, its acidic qualities.
What happened to them was simple.
They all dropped down onto the grass and died, suffocating on their own dissolving flesh while paralyzed from the internal shock that was induced. Zucroas was the sole survivor, only because his biological defenses had been hardened by years of training and practice to make his body strong enough to fight off what one could possibly be labeled as a hemo-toxin, quickly regenerating lost flesh. In all sense of the word, Zucroas was the perfect specimen. (7)
Now, it was truly over, the battle, anywayâŠ
Zucroasâ eyes returned to normal, and then he simply collapsed and fell asleep for what seemed like days. When he woke up, everything was gone: the dead bodies of his family, the humans that he grew up with; everyone and everything. The only evidence that even hinted at something happening, were two jagged streaks going down his left and right arms.
A mark of crimson on the left and a mark of midnight blue on the rightâŠ
Truly, he was alone.
Spirit Rage
Zucroas now aimlessly wandered the world of Soran completely by himself, occasionally stopping at different parts to interact with the humans that still lived in small communities. He chose not to tell them what happened to him, for fear of instilling that very same feeling within their hearts. Never again, would he allow man or beast to feel the pain that he had felt so long ago.
As the years went on, Zucroas found himself engaged in a never-ending battle with the more violent creatures of Soran, occasionally having to fend off entire herds of monsters that dwelled beneath the surface. These included gargantuan insect-colonies, arachnids, and even other dragon clans that had developed a fierce rivalry with his own. Zucroas, himself had no interest in this, and instead chose to reason with them.
And he failedâŠ
The battle lasted for over two weeks, taking out dragon after dragon, with no help whatsoever, the marks on his arms slowly starting to crackle with a luminescence so intense that it seared the skin around them. Zucroas paid it, no attention; he had endured much more than that during his training, not-to-mention fighting off a hemo-toxin that was capable of destroying metal in mere seconds.
He shouldnât have been so arrogantâŠ
Zucroas ended up collapsing on the ground just as he did during the battle with the Xenomorphs, and as he fell an eye began to take form in both marks, darting from one part of the area to the next. Then, all went silent. Zucroas was just laying there in the grass, his body having gone limp and bleeding very very badly.
Together, all at once, they roared a roar of victory, picking up Zucroasâ body and throwing it several hundred feet into the air, and watching it fall back down to the ground with a sickening thud. Not even a second was given before they were already right next to him, puffing up their chests, and preparing to reduce the dragon to nothing more than a pile of ash. It was at that very moment that Zucroasâ body began to radiate flames of electricity, causing everyone there to take a step back in fearful curiosity.
For a time the flames died down and returned to their original state of nothingness, and so with great caution, inching closer and closer to his body until they were mere centimeters away. And then, in one electrified assault, the eyes that had appeared earlier on in the marks revealed their true identities: two draconic serpents composed of raw electrical energy, baring the same colors as the marks that sealed them away.
Each and every dragon was slaughtered in a matter of minutes, be it by getting impaled, burnt to a crisp by the fiery rage of the two spirits, or just beaten into a bloody pulp and left to suffer for a few hours before their inevitable deaths.
When Zucroas came to, his vision was entirely a blur, and all he could make out were the distorted images of a mother and father, whoâs identities were to remain hidden from Zucroas until the time was right. All that could be said for now was that they were here to protect him, and keep him safe whenever he should need them. (7)
Abomination
As always, time continued to flow and once again, Zucroas was on the move, pondering just what exactly those marks on his arms meant; what they represented or quite possibly who were meant to symbolize. It was a comforting feeling to know, that in while he was indeed alone, he could always depend on something to rely on when he needed it the most.
Yet, Zucroas had more friends than one, and he didnât even know itâŠ
The very âcontrollersâ of the Xenomorphs had been watching Zucroas for quite some time now; having observed his incredible abilities, and then studying them to see how they would be able to use him. It wasnât every day that you see one dragon fight off an entire swarm of Xenomorphs, an entire clan of dragons and even defend an entire village from the bloodthirsty monsters that lurk in the shadows.
YesâŠhe truly was the excellent specimen for their âexperimentâ, and so they began tracking his movements; waiting for the right time to deploy their pod containing a new type of Xenomorph. One that had the stinger at the very end of its tail genetically modified to perform a task that differed greatly from its original: paralyzing its victims and knocking them out cold to be used as hosts for the next generation.
In this particular case, the host and the parasite would have to learn to share with one anotherâŠ
A few months had passed since then, and Zucroas found himself walking across a massive plain, heading somewhere, and looking for nowhere, when suddenly, that familiar whirring noise entered his ears. The roaring of engines, and the clouds splitting apart revealing the very same shuttle that had unleashed those bastards upon his home, his clan, his familyâŠ
For the second time, Zucroas was experiencing bloodlust; his pupils disappearing into a sea of malice, which boiled over and spilled onto the ship itself. Armor-plating that had covered the majority of the ship slid back, revealing powerful cannons, remote-controlled rail-guns and a payload of heat-seeking missiles and nuclear warheads, and still much much more.
Naturally Zucroas hadnât a clue what they were, and he wasnât exactly in a proper mental-state to be figuring it out either. He spread his wings and flew directly at the thing, a power-packed fist of emotions rearing back, before suddenly finding himself veering to the right as they opened fire on him.
Volley after volley of heat-seekers were unleashed upon the beast, all of which were drawn to him thanks to the electromagnetic signature he gave off, not-to-mention the incredible heat pouring from it. Within a matter of minutes, a good chunk of the plain had been reduced to a very large crater, followed by another miniature one that split the chaos in two.
To think, that Zucroasâ rage couldâve actually escalated beyond that point wouldâve been unthinkable.
But it didâŠ
The pod opened, releasing a large plume of steam in its wake, his eyes returning to a state of semi-normality as he peered in. What emerged was a new type of Xenomorph, though its overall appearance hadnât changed a bit, it had definitely been tampered with before its deployment onto Soran.
Zucroas ran and threw a punch, missing and blowing up the pod in the process, before suddenly finding himself pinned to the ground. The Xenomorph fiering its inner-mouth out repeatedly in an attempt to sever the spinal-cord, and failing each time before finally managing to impale Zucroas straight through the skull with the end of its tail, traveling down the spine and splitting in two as it continued on its deadly trail.
Meanwhile, all the commotion had caught the attention of a nearby group of wandering nomads, traveling across the plains in search of a new home. What they saw was utterly horrifying; some vomited at the sight while others simply turned their heads away, and some just stood there screaming in terror at the sight of Zucroasâ seemingly dead body, and the Xenomorph shrieking victoriously.
How could a dragon have been defeated, let alone killed by somethingâŠsoâŠpathetic?
And thatâs when the horror truly beganâŠ
Lacerations began to develop all over Zucroasâ skin, ripping itself clean off like blood-stained bed-sheets, scales literally shooting up and into the exoskeleton of the Xenomorph, stabbing it in multiple places, letting loose the river of blood, that soon became a waterfall of gut-wrenching proportions. Sections of his skin, flesh, bone, and many more were being dissolved by the Xenomorphâs acidic fluids, until finally the body began to react and carry out the will of the âcontrollersâ.
Muscle-fibers had been spread out across the ground, twitching rapidly like an electrical wire that had just been cut, though soon about to re-establish the bonds that kept them togetherâŠActing like tendrils more than anything else; they shot up into the exoskeleton and slithered their way in through the Xenomorphâs mouth, intertwining with the creatureâs own physiognomy. Bones snapped, serving as a wake-up call to the terrified audience to do something they would inevitably regret: attempting to fight the beast with nothing more than swords, and a few âdivineâ beings that had been sent to guide them on their way â knowing the dangers of Soran all too well.
This didnât qualify as dangerousâŠ
This qualified as catastrophic!
The broken appendages begun to act in perfect synchronization; utilizing the newly formed jagged edges of bones like ski-sticks as a means of maneuvering through the crowd and into deathâs cold, and welcoming embrace. Strike after strike; blow after blow; and spell after spell, managing to encase the beast in ice at one point. It was quickly melted by the searing hot electrical energy, however, and the one who had cast the spell was dealt with swiftly and painfully. Unfortunately for the spell-caster, in the mind of the beast, his idea of swift was launching his inner-mouth straight through the chest-cavity, and then latching onto the heart with a vice-like grip.
A firm tug was given, and now their dinner had been reeled in for them to feast upon, as they simultaneously slaughtered the rest of the nomads. Men and women were speared by horns, impaled by the jagged limbs; electrocuted and dissolved away by the acidic blood that he had been coated in.
Zucroasâ scales had fused with the exoskeleton, forming exoskeletal plates, and flesh quickly began regenerating as bones, rather than popping back into place, created new joints for themselves; found new ways to create their new anatomical structure and to use it to their advantage.
YesâŠlife has indeed⊠found a way to survive, though clearly not in the most ideal circumstancesâŠ
In the end, all that was left was a monster, an abomination that had gained a new identity, and while it may have been alien at the time it was still something and thus â he adopted the name Alucroas.
The experiment was a resounding success...
The Monster within the Monster
With his new identity, Alucroas set off a journey to discover just exactly what he was. He knew who he was, but what⊠was entirely a mystery to him. Why did he fuse with such a hideous beast in the first place? How could such a thing be possible!? These thoughts raced through the mind of Alucroas, and he would soon discover just in fact, what he was and what this new and interesting body had to offer.
Firstly, his right eye had stayed the same, though its DNA had merged with that of the Xenomorphâs allowing him to view things on the electromagnetic spectrum. His left eyeâŠon the other hand had become filled with far too much blood, and his regenerative cells caused him to retain the color â now holding the ability to see things on a heat-based level: a byproduct of the Xenomorphâs innate ability to detect odors, bioelectrical signatures, and other such methods of organic detection systems. (7)
His strengthâŠhis strength actually quintupled, displayed by the muscles, mostly all over his arms and legs, whereas his plated exoskeleton covered up the rest. His defenses had been hardened as well; naturally regenerative cells had reinforced the exoskeleton that would prove to be a life-saving factor when faced with mankindâs greater weapons. His head had grown somewhat long, though retaining its sharp features, but with a bit more width to it. The fleshy tail had intertwined with the long spindly one, forming an incredibly powerful and very deadly one, capable of injecting its victims with a neurotoxin, using a barely visible stinger at the end.
Overall, the beast was fourteen feet long, and six feet tall, and that was with his kneeâs bent!
However, unexpected it may have been Alucroasâ personality was strangely calm and collected, despite fusing with such a vicious creature. He found himself seeking attention from the world around him, and it came in the form of companionship from other animals, as well as a few exceptional humans that actually didnât scream and run at the sight of his hideous form. Yet, when he hunted, he was cold and calculating; almost seeming to enjoy the killing aspect of things. Although he didnât notice it at first, something was brewing deep downâŠ
Alucroas had grown quite a lot over the years, having mastered his new body and how to use it to his advantage in every way possible. He could spit acid in the face of those who may attack him, and deliver a shocking bite to prey, or simply. The art of stealth came easy to Alucroas, learning to use the shadows rather than rush in with pure brute force, (though it was still an option if needed) and retreat back into the darkness to feed. (4)
Over the course of a few months, Alucroas found himself taking interest in the world around him, looking only to fill the hole in his heart that had now been empty for so long. And that someone wasnât exactly a person he wanted to be close to in any way, shape, or form. NoâŠnot him, especially not him.
Somewhere along the lines, Alucroas found himself fantasizing about bloodshed, fantasizing about killing random people for no particular reason at all. The only ones whom he even had a reason to take revenge on, was whoever was onboard that ship, that had wrecked his life and changed it forever.
At first it came in the form of a voice inside its head, and Alucroas chose not to pay it any attention, until finally the voice became stronger. It⊠was throaty and had a tinge of invincibility to it; something that couldnât be stopped. Often times, it would succeed in its objectives, causing the beast to slaughter entire villages in a matter of hours, before finally managing to take on its own form upon coming into contact with the Rock Golem â Agron.
The beast stood at over 1,400 feet with a humanoid body very similar to Zucroasâ own, except for the fact that it could utilize excess organic-growth to produce tendrils, capable of spraying down enemies in a shower of acidic rain. Occasionally it would inject its victims, and electrocute them simultaneously, proving itself to be nothing more than a sadist hell-bent on nothing more than seeing others in pain.
Its origins are still unknown, however to those who have actually spoken with the beast, it is a compilation of human emotions that Zucroas gained from his child-hood of growing up with them, the massacre, and the Xenomorphâs naturally vicious, bloodthirsty, and overall aggressive side.
A creature born from oneâs very own atrocityâŠthe monster within the monster â the beast within the beastâŠ
The monstrosity â Alutrosity⊠(8)
The Dark Realm
The Dark Realm is in essence a layer of existence, similar to a sub-plane, and one that can be accessed through a great variety of means, ranging from the electromagnetic spectrum, to the magical, to the spiritual and at times by simply using pure and unbridled force. It is because of The Dark Realm being a 'layer' of existence, that simply means that it's like an omniversal basement, which (pardon the metaphor) has absorbed an innumerable amount of information based on those who walk on 'ground-level' or âsurface-levelâ over the course of time, through a semi-sentient form of observation.
To put it in simple terms, The Dark Realm can see, hear, feel -- sense everything that goes on within the regular universe. By absorbing this information, it was able to form a baseline for what exactly should be contained within, in order to properly interface with the surface-plane. These tools come in the form of chemicals, various elements that it constructs by arranging protons, neutrons, electrons, ions, etc. thus â enabling it to manifest itself in a form comprehensive to those who saw it.
It can turn a man into a god, and a god into an ant, and has shown a passionate desire to protect those who do not see it as a mere weapon, but more of a Guardian, which â has been the case with the beast known as Alucroas.
The creature's child-like personality coupled with its seemingly natural and borderline instinctual friendliness influenced the realm into allowing the beast to use it in whatever way it wished, be it for combat purposes, or simply using it as a place of refuge. It would provide him with everything he needed or could ever want, often times quelling the monstrosity inside.
The prospect of a world being able to think, acknowledge others and its very own self, is absurd and utterly farfetched on a grand scale, however, as we look at creatures such as the Agronians; living, thinking beings that possess emotions and can be influenced by man, machine, or beast, and yet at the same time absorb enough minerals to become an entire planet for civilizations to live on. That is a world with feelings.
However, there is a fine line between a planet and an entire Realm, Dimension, Sub-plane and existence in general. As said before, it is an omniversal basement, which suggests that if there is in-fact a conscience that it could quite possibly be either omnipresent, or that its conscience can be represented in the form of⊠yes, it sounds ridiculous but bare with me.
Imagine a circular table, with a cylindrical mass of play-dough. Then, imagine another cylinder of play-dough stacked ontop of it, then another, and another, and another. These cylinders of play-dough represent countless amounts of information piling up within the universe, until eventually creating a dip in in space-time, in the exact same way that the sun creates a dip, which causes the surrounding planets to circulate it.
The key-difference here is that, instead of creating a gravitational bowl, we have more a cone-like shape puncturing the fabric of space-time, allowing this information to flow freely into. Initially, The Dark Realm started off as nothing more than a muddled mass of of information that lacked any coherent form, and was thus â confined to something that could take on any shape depending on what it was placed within. Simply put: it took on the form of a black ocean.
However, like all forms of life, planets, stars, and other bodies, they all share one perpetual element, one all-encompassing tool, that has allowed existence itself to thrive, and that is by evolving. And thatâs exactly what it did: evolved.
How Alucroas accessed this realm however, was through a slightly different method, not-to-mention accidental. It was during a battle in Wing City that the monstrosity -- Alutrosity had managed to take over, completely dominating Alucroasâ feeble mental defenses and taking over for his fight with the chi-manipulating alchemist â Donny. (8)
After successfully defeating Donny, Alutrosity went on to wreak havoc upon the city, devouring innocent civilians, pumping his foul-green blood into the sewers, leaving everyone and everything to drown in a sea of tar, pavement, and beastâs own corrosive fluids. It was at that very moment that the innocent creature that dwelt within, called out for all the chaos and bloodshed to stop, only to be beaten to a pulp and come back for more.
This internal struggle for supremacy lasted for hours on end, the two beasts exchanging blows as their two consciences collided, and intervoluted amongst themselves, forming the very same cylindrical shape. Memories, personalities, the elements that they controlled all being focused into something chaotic, yet⊠controlled, seemingly siphoned and focused into a dip birthed from their own innate desire to dominate the other. It was this mass amount of emotional power that punched a hole in the spiritual-plane which in-turn lead into what was now known only as The Dark Realm.
What lurked in this 'Dark Realm' was something or rather someone that Alucroas knew very very well, at first glance catching nothing more than an arc of spindly, black flesh, reminiscent to something diving in and out of the abyssal ocean. However, upon entry, it was clear that it had already predicted Alucroas' and Alutrosity's arrival, and had therefore prepared a little something for the beasts.
Time to Say Hello to the Family
Instead of simply allowing the two beasts to fight within itself, it had instead dividing the two beings, and subjected them to their own physical forms. It wasnât exactly going to be a fair fight though, considering they had all decided to gang up on Alutrosity. They knew what he was, and they knew how he was created. They would not allow their kin to suffer through this madness any longer, and thus â a great number of them waged war against Alutrosity.
They appeared as draconic serpents, however much moreâŠfleshed out. Their skin was pitch black, muscles and veins visible, for they had taken on a form more recognizable to Alucroas. Together they assisted him in locking away the monstrosity, confining him to the darkest corners of Alucroasâ mind, where he could only be summoned under severe trauma, or emotional stress. (5)
As for Alucroas himself, he has chosen to take refuge within The Dark Realm, acting as a sanctuary for the beast to interact with his lost family members, not yearning to know how exactly they ended up there, but simply to be with them.
This is not to say that Alucroas never ventures outside of The Dark Realm, for he in fact, spends most of his time outside, and only goes in when he feels the need to.
But, for nowâŠAlucroas is just content with knowing that he is not truly alone.