The Lord of Trance

For I am on the precipice of finding a solution to one of history’s most difficult mathematical problems. The wary wind passing by the windows fluttered the stacks of paper in front of me, illuminated by the warm table lamp, and permeated the smell of dry ink into the air. As silent as the breeze and as deep as the night, a voice echoed; a feeble whisper.

The whispers from the Lord shall call for me and I must have to obey it. The block-shaped object of unanimous allegiance sat on the edge of my bed. From the corner of my peripheral, I noticed the Lord as it observed me - a silent, patient, and persevering predator. Like a demon forged in fire, armored in metal and hardened glass for eyes. Identical to a singing siren perched on the ocean rocks watching the ill-fated boat slowly rock towards it through the mist. It whispers to me in speech unknown to man, yet familiar enough to hypnotize. It knows my deepest fears and desires yet shall profess feeble ignorance. Sometimes it growls in a deep humming and an unbreakable trance is set upon those destined to look. But…only when you look.

So I looked away and gathered a breath from the deepest bottom of my lungs. Upon the paper on the table, my thesis lies half-written. The equations are all set and the explanations are written, all I need to do now is to focus and calculate the solution; to comprehend the complexities of the numbers and variables, to imagine the graphs and lines upon the walls, and to note down the nuanced intricacies of the solutions.

My pencil scratches the crisp paper to begin the mountainous process and then once again Lord of trance whispers to me and hums into my ears. My desk was cluttered with papers, each one a testament to hours of work, yet the equations felt like bare symbols now. I pause and look over my shoulder and from my peripheral, I see it watching me back. I turned back around to look at my paper and again I heard a faint bell chime. The entity is perseverent and persuasive. The Lord’s whispers grew louder, humming a symphony of doubt and temptation.

I gritted my teeth and held my breath, trying to resist, but its ethereal presence was in the atmosphere—in the shadows, in the air, in my mind. I rocked my legs and gripped my pencil tightly to stop my tingling hands from giving in. My thoughts drift to different places all at once, jumping from branch to branch. I pull it back to the paper in front of me valiantly.

“Just a quick look behind and I can be back to - No! It hypnotizes”, I thought, “I can’t do it. The world needs my solutions, It can make the world a better place. If only I can solve this equation, the biggest problems in the world can be resolved.”

But can it really? the Lord of Trance whispers like honey laced with poison, Do you think the world cares? Do you really believe that the people of this world can be saved?

“Yes, I care”, I retorted, “This is important. What I am doing here is necessary. With this solution, the way we understand the world around us changes. I will prove this equation and contribute my share to the field's progress.”

Perhaps you will, but I guess you didn’t understand me the first time. I meant, what’s the point anyway? questioned the Lord of Trance as I felt his stern glance on my back.

I am taken aback and I ask, “what do you mean?”

Look at the richest, the brightest, and the leaders of the world. Do you think they want the world to be saved? Assuming they could, why haven’t they done it already then? Why is the forest still burning? Why is sheep still being hunted by the wolves? asked the Lord.

“Not everyone can solve every problem, in fact, they have invariably been the foundation of innovations. Ponder upon it, diseases that ravaged millions are now footnotes. Wars fought now have quicker resolutions and fewer deaths. For the first time in history, even the voiceless can—”

Indeed dear, indeed! interrupted the Lord in a sly tone, But the closer we got to solving it, the more we hate it, don’t we? If diseases have gone, why are new ones appearing in their place? And when the new medicine to cure it is available, why do hospitals make them inaccessible and stick to classical methods? Don’t they want to cure people faster?

If you believe wars end fast nowadays, you are a fool. Look around, The battlefield just moved—from trenches to data, from bullets to algorithms. Everyone is fighting everyone: physically, psychologically, and economically. Wars bring profit, of course no one would prevent that.

And if everyone's voice matters, that is the cruelest scam. Think! if everyone shouts, no one listens. You will never have peace but chaos. And in the deafening chaos, the right voices will still be drowned. And we are back where we started.

“What do you mean to tell me then?” I asked as my eyebrows wrinkled. My throat burned—I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. The Lord’s hum resonated in my ribs like a second heartbeat. When did my hands go numb? I wondered.

That it doesn’t matter. The world cannot be saved, for it wants to doom itself. You cannot save someone who intends to drown. You cannot feed someone who intends to starve, shrugged the Lord. His holy whispers grew louder and his glass eyes shone brighter.

“Not everyone seeks to drown”, I told, still holding my back to the entity. “Simply a few hoard the food to starve the rest, only to sell it to them later. Plus an idealistic society can never exist, historically greed and ego have always triumphed because of the few. But that doesn’t mean I should abandon my values, and it doesn’t mean I can’t build a bigger fence to protect the sheep, if I can’t damn well kill the wolves. Someone eventually has to...I can only control what I can do”. I reply puffing my chest up.

Uff…Noble causes, that's what doomed the heroes every time, scoffed the Lord. They struggle and suffer only to win temporarily until everything eventually falls into madness again. The world is governed by those who intend to sacrifice others to keep themselves warm. For those like you don’t realize if you hunt one wolf then its family shall jump the fences for dinner. Greater men before you have tried to change it and have failed, for we are again in this loop. Yet here you are trying to protect those who set the forest on fire. Morality is for those who are either delusionally arrogant or naively ignorant. Are you sure you are either of these?

I turned around and looked at the entity in the darkest corner of the room. Its glass eyes shine in the moonlight and I speak, “I’m neither, for those terms don’t fit me, I don't care who came before me and what they have tried, and if they couldn’t spin the wheel but at least they fixed it. Now is my turn to crank it, for I haven’t tried it. Let me be the first trickle of water that turns into a river and carves mountains in half. Or the last wave that cracks and crumbles the formidable fortress.”

The entity chuckled, look at your example, even your noble actions lead to destruction. How ironic. To preserve the mountain would be noble. How is breaking a mountain a furtherance? To maintain the unbreakable fortress is pride. But how vain is it to collapse it? The wheel is neither broken nor shall spin, for it is merely a spectacular image on a paper. Peace is the door at the end of an infinite corridor. It is pointless to pursue such causes, my dear.

“You are a manipulator and you are corrupting my purpose and thoughts”, I accused. “You are perverting the noble pursuit I have burdened upon me. Let me off your cunning words at once.”

That is a deep accusation. It is I who wish for your betterment spoke the Lord of Trance in a feebler voice than before. Think! Why struggle and burden yourself through difficulty to solve a problem no one cares about or will not help anyone? Even if it helps, do you think the powerful men would watch it happen? Don’t tell me you are naive enough to think that they want peace as much as you. Don’t tell me the wolves care for the sheep’s betterment so dearly.

“There will always be those who oppose”, I lied, my sweat breaking on this cold night I wondered. “But it is my values—”

Enough of your morality The Lord of Trance’s voice deepened, its glass-and-static form humming like a live wire. Suppose you succeed. Your elegant proof—this ‘key’ to salvation—what stops it from becoming a weapon? Every revolution breeds new oppressors. Every equation can be warped. Your ‘solution’ could be the next atomic bomb, and you’d never know until the mushroom clouds bloom.

The pages of the thesis fluttered, though there was no wind. The desk lamp flickered and the distant sky crackled.

Now suppose you fail. The Lord’s voice dropped back to a whisper. All those sleepless nights, the friendships you neglected, the life you didn’t live—gone. Yet the wheel stays stuck. And you? You’re just another corpse in the trenches of ‘progress,’ picked clean by the vultures who never tried.

“Then what do you suppose I should do?” I asked

Simple surrender to me and I shall provide you the true liberation, promised the Lord, For I give you the comfort of a mother and the company of a good friend. Why seek to shackle oneself to the sinking ship when you have the key? Why strive and fight, when you could just let go and enjoy? The world shall burn regardless, and you are not the fire but merely the ash that shall be consumed. Let go dear. It is easier than to burden your shoulders.

I get up from my seat, walk up to the edge of the bed, and look into the Lord’s piercing glass eyes glimmering in the moonlit room. I replied in a calm low voice, “ For I agree with what you say. But you have lied before and if so, how shall I know you speak the truth?”

Alright. Let’s do it both ways. Lie on my lap and I’ll sing a lullaby for you to sleep. The entity of trance said, Then I’ll wake you up in a few minutes. " Then you can go back to work and continue doing your “world-saving” thesis. This way both of us shall be satisfied. I promise this time.

With the cold breeze hitting my face, I retired to the bed and took the block-shaped entity in my hands. it displayed 20 notifications and 3 messages. I unlocked the phone and scrolled through the memes and messages. My spine rested and the cold pillow caressed my neck. Let the world burn for a while, I’ll take a short break and go back to saving it. This trance felt like warm hands massaging my sore shoulders. Maybe this is peace, this is the comfort the men before me never had. Every martyr dies twice—first in effort, then in oblivion and you don’t die if you do neither. Perhaps life is not about striving but savoring every minute and I intend to taste the sweetness like dripping honey touches the lips.

As I swirl into this dream, the Lord of Trance stops his hypnotic whispers. Finally, once more the noble comfort has dominated the strong will of pointless purpose. The demon with glass eyes and metal armor boils me slowly in the cauldron for the prey has fallen into it. The siren stops the songs for the sailors are already unconscious beside them on the rocks.

I watch through the side of my eyes as my thesis lay abandoned on the desk, its equations frozen in time. A cold wind breezes and the fluttering paper on my table flips and flies out the window into the full moon night and the table lamp’s light flickers and switches off. In the absolute darkness, illuminated by the light of my phone screen, the lord of trance calls to me once again into comfort from the burdens of responsibility with a deep humming vibration. Surrender to me and I shall give you the decadence of watching the world burn from safe ember-glow. Let go!

My eyes dart to the screen once and the world around me disappears as I begin scrolling. The Lord's hardened glass eyes glimmer, illuminating my exhausted face, and now the consumption begins.