Sinistre was lucky to have good friends. A group of people who have shared experience and share a mutual affection for one another. Sinistre is the last of the Trugraions; an elite group of individuals from all walks of life united in their vision of a new humanity; a new society.
As time went on; the Trugraions died out. Some of them abandoned their values and became normal citizens of the state. Others died in despair; waiting patiently for a revolution or a breaking point in humanity’s self-indulgent destruction; but the time never came. Their own personal desires and life aims fell apart; the search for romantic love; personal glory and material success. They achieved none of those.
Some of the Trugrarions believed that the leader Trugra had false ideals; that he was a false prophet. All of the members had doubt. Some abandoned the teachings altogether, while some re-interpreted the master; while others, wished the master was correct, but in hoping and trying to achieve the new world; they brought great harm upon themselves.
Sinistre met with an old friend and sympathiser to Trugrar; Bastion. Bastion was not very close to Sinistre; but was his oldest, and perhaps, only true companion.
"I have experienced much hardship; the likes of which you will never imagine", Sinistre said; his eyes, although fixed; stared at nothing, despite the vast expanse of nature present in front of him. The cool winds flay his matted hair.
"I cannot imagine your pain, Sinistre; and although I say I am always here for you; you realise you are at a point where you are fundamentally isolated", Bastion, although an empathetic person; was completely out of touch with reality. In some way; he tries to reconcile his knowledge with his beliefs, but in many others; he is a dogmatist. For this reason, and others, Sinistre can never be truly close to his only friend. "Their lives have no meaning, unless you make it have meaning; unless you live for them".
Sinistre: Bastion, I cannot continue this project alone; I cannot even continue my life, but I know I must. Aeneas lost his family; his nation; his dignity; but what I have lost is far greater. Although my heart still beats, and my stature erect; I have died long ago.
Bastion: That, I cannot understand. The value of a person is accorded insofar as they are remembered among contemporaries. If no one knew of a child’s existence; no one would mourn their loss.
Sinistre: That is an absurd statement, Bastion. But sometimes I think there is merit to your stupidity. No one cares if a hero had died if they did not know the criterion of a hero; when ignorance is the rule; it is the criterion also. Bastion; what you don’t realise is that I do not mourn my own death; but the impending end of humanity itself.
Bastion: I too envisage a downfall in humanity; that is why I seek to repair the gene pool and create a replaceable army of human slaves to serve us, the masters; we will live a good life then, one where wars are conflicts that are quickly resolved; and where happiness is the currency.
Sinistre: You are insane, Bastianicus. You are a man of integers and sets; not HUMAN LIVES AND VALUES! Stick to what you are good at; and don’t you dare try and claim mastery of a science you have no grounding in. I grieve for the ignorant like you; whose idealism is far from transcendental. Although you are my friend; I hope we never come at ends as political enemies; for I shall defeat you in the battle of words.
Bastion: But it is the battle of arms that defines a winner.
Sinistre: And no one remembers the heroic enemy; for they are ignorant of the criterion of heroism.
Bastion: How erudite, Trugrar would have been proud; you are so much different to your old master.
Sinistre: I claim no master but the fathers of the enlightenment; and the number by one alone.
Bastion: You may think you have lost your future, and your past; but you are a dear friend to me. I trust you more than anyone who may share my ideals of words. You have survived the torrents, the earthquakes, the tsunami and the volcanic eruption; you have been thrown about, burnt and frozen, but you still stand. You have lost the spirit and optimism you once had; but what remains, is you and truly you; and it is that which I deem your true self.
Sinistre: I must go; I must attend to exegetical matters.
Bastion: I must attend political matters; we are contrasting characters; star-crossd truly.
Sinistre: People like you come like the rains; too frequently. You are not special.
Bastion: What about you?
Sinistre: Ad hominem reply; you should know better, hythlodaeus