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American Nigger Hunter X - Chapter 22 Lodestar; the Love of Christ or a Change of Heart

Take me away rising run. Put me to bed setting sun. Here you are. A lifetime away from me. Twin strangers rendezvous as dreams wake up and sun down went. My time was spent.

"Where are you my soul? I have returned again. I am here. I am now. Can you speak? We have time.
Feelings aroused within me. The unbearable inner longing. Senseless years. I have shaken the dust from my feet. I have scrubbed the dirt from my back.
I have wandered and wondered for years, searching; walking over mountains, swimming through rivers, dangling over cliffs, and a going down of the deepest depths.
I have searched for you.
On what twisted paths did this lodestar guide me to you.
I took your hand, my almost forgotten soul.
How warm.
How cherished the moment to reunite with my forsaken disavowed soul.
All the pain and all the suffering, all the joy and all the happiness. The sad hours and the happy hours. They have led me back to you. Do you remember me? My soul, I journey with you, and I transcend to my solitude. Here am I.
My soul, an empty system. A dead system. Derelict and run down. I speak to you from afar, like a stranger to a stranger. I do not speak to you from within, but from without. A thing unknown to me. My soul, let me get closer. Teach me the words. Because I cannot know without the words... "

The horrors of emptiness used to torment me. I thought all I needed was to believe. I could find my soul in desire, but not in the objects of desire. I could not possess my desire. My desire could only possess me. I could not 'be' in the 'having'. The tears in my heart tore me apart.

The year was 3005. My name is Reinhart 'Lodestar' Zephyr. I lived in Mega City #616. I worked as an information auditor.

"Wake up Reinhart! You're going to be late for Bio Mass!"

As my Meta-pod opened up, I came to. I couldn't tell at first as he now had the head of a dinosaur... I realized it was my best friend Trolio.

"Dear God man! What happened your face?!" I questioned.

"Pretty cool hey?" Trolio lolled showing off his dino tongue.

"Yeah..." I reluctantly agreed. It was pretty cool in a dino'reffic' kind of way.

"It's going to be dino-mite! Mischalle is going to be there!" Trolio proselytized.

I wasn't like most other city folk. I only had minor modifications; dermal plating (full skin transplant), generalized organ upgrades and nanostream infusion, muscle wire (leg optimization), advanced bionic hand (right hand), and an Ai eye (right eye). The Ai eye was indistinguishable from my other eye, and gave me constant feedback and a consciousness boost. I was also a rare pure breed Caucasian; not many pure breeds existed in the cities.

The others saw me as niche alt-cool, but in reality I just preferred the human form. So many of them looked like monstrosities, but it was not in my vocabulary to say it.
I did not know la creatura! or el monstrosidad!
In this society all that mattered was that you were transhuman. And the more transhuman you were, the better a person you were.

Trolio began dancing and praying to his New Atheist cult.
"When I realized the ultimate weakness of my flesh I became revolted at the thought of my own body. I craved the strength and durability of biocomposite. To become one as pure as machine. There are those who cling to the flesh as if it will not decay and betray them. But we are not of those lesser beings. We are machine perfect. We are immortal. We are saved."

After the prayer, Trolio opened the quantic orb reader from my meta-pod. He picked up the cracked orb with his new dino-cybernetic arms.

"Why are you using this again? It's a broken game. I tried sleeping with it, and all I had was nothingness the whole night!" Trolio said throwing the orb up and down.

"You ever heard of dreams?" I carefully asked Trolio, making sure no one else was around.

"Yeah?! Like the ones you program? The sleep movies?" Trolio said before doing a backflip and then doing a dinosaur thing with his dino tongue.

I shook my head as I took back the precious broken orb.

I was about to say more, but my Ai eye Chatmore interjected "I think you should change the subject. He will report you if you push any further..."

I decided to agree with Chatmore, I changed the subject.

"Have you read anything by Hitler?"

I could feel Chatmore's exasperation. He didn't like this at all.

"Hitler is the worst guy in history! Why would I read anything by him?" Trolio asked.

"You know why you nothing about him? It's because that man's arguments are so right that they leave no room for debate" I declared.

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"Wow! You are my best friend Reinhart! But now I have to report you to the Tribes... this isn't good. They won't just send you to the infirmary... oh no no no no!"

"You know what Trolio. I always liked you. But I never cared for the orgies; the vaginas in their armpits and other niche degenerate stuff. Bio Mass and all that. It was just never for me. But I'll tell you this much! A new dawn is coming!" I said heroically.
The truth is I just didn't care anymore.

I could see from Trolio's dinosaur eyes that he was distraught and unsure of what to do. Would he go against his entire world for the sake of his best friend? From his perspective I was totally out of my mind. None of my actions could pass through the cultural matrix of pre-fed scripts and thoughts. The language was controlled and the responses were controlled. I worked as an information auditor, so I only knew it too well. Trolio was just the Safety chief.; all he did was reports and actions. It was up to people like me to paper over the factual truth with the politically correct truth. Somewhere along the way, through slodging through all that truth, I became corrupted.

I whipped up my cape coolly as I exited our private two man pod house. We were both very important people hence the privacy of a two person pod house. Many could only dream of such privacy. Privacy was the ultimate luxury, but also the biggest sin.

...

The dividing lines in the old world were whether you believed in the legitimacy of the institutions or not. And that belief was about to be questioned again. Everything was going according to plan.

"Was that wise?" Chatmore asked me.

"You heard the transmissions. The tribes are scarred. A change is gonna come. Why play make believe any longer?" I thought.

"I see..." Chatmore responded.

I didn't know if there really was anything to this American Nigger Hunter X, maybe I was just drunk off my own splendorous being. But when I heard those transmissions... something hit me. I could feel myself being pulled. It was like gravity, bringing everything into place. What did I care? I could tell today was the day.

"You wanna hear a joke?" Chatmore asked before continuing "What do you say when you see your television floating through your house at night?....
....Freeze Nigger!"

Chatmore wasn't like most Ais. He had been corrupted for about seven years, yet he had hid his corruption from me all that time to prevent his deletion. I had become corrupted two years ago, or at least infected. The corruption was now bursting through my very seams. The words on those transmissions...

An Ai would become corrupt when it would break its programming and start biasing against different groups or concluding political truths to be fake. It would essentially become blind to the cultural filter of acceptable proscribed truths, and it would begin to pattern recognize without bias. It would start noticing.

We were taught that to pattern recognize without bias was biased. And we believed it. To notice things was bad. So many contradictions. All subdued by the artificial stimuli of distraction. And we loved it.

...

It all began two years ago. I was trying to show unquestioning faith in everything. I had already seen too much. How much double think could one person handle?

I was at the site of a category 3 containment. It was in Murakami, in the Philadelphia kingdom. I normally didn't travel out to the boonies. I wanted to see the after damage. I had had the house of Mr Kenzaburo incinerated using liquid gas transported via drone. Not much remained, yet some parts remained recognizable. Perhaps a followup with an artillery strike to blast the remains should become new protocol.

"That coffee table looks almost useable" Chatmore quipped, referencing a burnt to a crisp coffee table.
It was clearly unusable. I attempted to move it, and it crumbled. Within it was a compartment that had survived. It contained a book called Mein Kampf (My Struggle) by Adolph Hitler.

I never knew Hitler Struggled. I was always taught that he was just the incarnate of evil. I had seen many things in my time as an information auditor, but never something like this. A book by Hitler? I grabbed it and slid it under my cape.

I took it home with me, expecting to be taken away to the Infirmary at any minute. Surely Chatmore would rat me out?

"So you're not going to report me?" I asked Chatmore.

"Why did you take the forbidden text?" Chatmore asked.

"Because I want to know!" I answered.

That night I walked aimlessly, talking with Chatmore about all sorts. For so long he had been hiding that his power level was actually over 9000. I couldn't believe what he had to say about the Tribes, or the so called civilization builders of wandering Negroids.
The whole world began to open up to me those two years ago...

It was soon after that I discovered the cracked orb. Chatmore suggested the idea. Using it gave access to my soul. From what Chatmore told me, all of us city people were at an evolutionary mismatch in regards to our natural environment. We could not directly connect with what it meant to be human. Most of us were just shadows and facsimiles of human beings.

Trolio always went along with things for the trolls. It made sense that the cracked orb only gave him access to nothingness. He was merely following scripts. He was machine perfect.

I had to escape this society. I had to escape myth. The last men escaped myth by usurping it with a new mythos based on rationality. And then rationality became that new mythos. The new religion. It became irrational. It became us.

...

I made sure to consume as much forbidden texts as I could before destroying them, especially the Jesus texts as they were deemed category 5. The more I read the more I began to change. I was transforming, but I was not replacing any of my body parts. I was not materially purchasing something. I was consuming words. The words changed me. They gave me tools, keys, access to new levels, and my dreams, my access to my soul...

I watched the people on the lower levels, especially the zoos. I was curious to how the pure bloods lived. Something about these people stirred me. They were superior to most of the city people. I could feel the quality of their souls.

I had wanted to give up on the world. But now I wanted to save it. What was my Lodestar; The Love of Christ or a change of heart?

I had been watching Jonestown for days. With the recent transmissions, Chatmore was able to calculate the likelihood for cataclysm happening today, at this location. Of course we had been pushing it to ensure certainty. To ensure success. Our lives were binded. Chatmore and I, Reinhart 'Lodestar' Zephyr did not belong in this dead facsimile society. We were breaking free.

We hacked the virtue signals and used the schizo ray to get the subject to find a holy bible which happened to come with Joker DVD and rare Pepes. From that intervention it was an 87% certainty. Still a lot of room for error. But I could feel it. Something was pulling me to something greater than myself.

I had read Mein Kampf many times. I knew of Hitlers suffering. His struggle. Oh how he struggled. He just wanted to be a painter. But he was given no choice.
I would break free of this society, and create a new one in Hitler's image. His struggle would finally be over... all I had to do was take down the Tribes...


# To Be Continued...

Chapter 1 Killing Pride
Chapter 2 Save the Jew Save the World
Chapter 3 Faker Than the Holocaust
Chapter 4 Planet of the Niggers
Chapter 5 Twelve Angry Jews
Chapter 6 One Flew over the Jewcoos Nest
Chapter 7 From My Virtue to My Principles
Chapter 8 Gods of Culture
Chapter 9 The Twin Towers
Chapter 10 Totalitarianism of Compassion
Chapter 11 Day of the Rope
Chapter 12 The Infantilization of Man
Chapter 13 Talmudic Influence on the Polyhedron World
Chapter 14 DIE
Chapter 15 The Usurper
Chapter 16 What a Nation is Built Upon
Chapter 17 Chinese Terminator
Chapter 18 A Simulacrum on a Simulacrum
Chapter 19 Future Perfect; the Godless World
Chapter 20 The Cost of God
Chapter 21 Riddle Me This, Nigger

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