Fiction

Short story by Dan Hekate from Datacide 3.
He had achieved what had always been his ultimate goal. As his form had wilted and crumbled before his creation he felt a wave of ecstasy shoot through. And as the rush expanded to reach its summit, his head exploded sending a greyish red matter splattering against the surrounding surfaces; the sub made by his head lost in the magnitude of the event.

we have to leave, that much is for certain. whether it’s part of the great plan or not, this island is terminal – so rat.
[after a mysterious tip (origin unknown) and finding myself rummaging around a dusty junkshop on an island within the ring-o-fire, i finally came across the material i had long suspected to exist – the true function of the Holy Grail.]