Chapter 4/Conclusion

"This is Jeffery Clayton at CNN with continued coverage of the late-breaking story that started in and around Vancouver, Canada," professionally stated the handsome news reporter currently quite comfortable and safe in a newsroom far removed from the death and destruction taking place well beyond said studio. "One that has aggressively progressed down through Washington state and Oregon in mere hours, to end up in the Greater Los Angeles area of California. As I understand, we have live coverage of what's happening coming up now..."

Switching once more from Jeffery Clayton, sitting so safely in a CNN studio, the fear-inducing images of a massive-headed/brained monstrosity dominated television screens across the country. Showing the very recently ultra-evolved Gwyllm Griffiths psionically hovering high over the streets of downtown L.A., whilst using said telekinetic energies to lay waste to whatever, and whoever!, was around him.

The streets were shattered, as if by the multiple impacts of small missiles rather than the pure psionic force of a Futuristic Man of Sixteen Million Years. Cars were either overturned and burning or had been hurled headlong into the sides of broken buildings.

Those fortunate enough not to be injured or worse ran around in a manner similar to images of war-torn towns in some third-world locality.

Only this was no foreign army molesting whole townships nor bringing harm to the otherwise innocent citizenry.

This was the work of a single, solitary, super-advanced, big-brained being with six distinct arms-and-hands. Each having extremely long fingers that seemed more like tentacles due to the their fluid motility.

Eyes were as wide as the wheels of a child's tricycle, having evolved so as to see thousands of times more than those of the normal Human. Thus, nothing and no one escaped Gwyllm's wide-ranging awareness.

And, coupled with a telepathic power that could, quite literally, scan the thoughts of up to ten thousand normal Human minds in a single instant...

Such made it easily possible for his super-psionics to swiftly lay waste to such as Seattle, Washington and Salem, Oregon. Also easily destroying all armed opposition posed so hopelessly by not only the police of said cities in said states, but also those state's National Guards.

And, now, such was being so sadistically repeated in the aphoristic heart of the great state of California.

Even now, the police and SWAT desperately tried to turn back this hovering-via-telekinetic control anomaly.

But to no avail...

"Lt. Tyler," loudly called out one of the police officer's to his immediate commander, "SWAT's no more able to stop this thing than us! Bullet's just seem to stop several inches before hitting it's...head!"

"I know, Travis!" Lt. Arthur Tyler loudly replied, even as he took the time to reload his police-issue Glock with one final ammo clip. "But just what the hell would you suggest? Run like hell and let that thing do whatever it wants to this city? This state!"

"S-sorry, sir," slightly stammered Officer Richard Travis in so hushed a fashion as to no doubt never even reach the ears of Lt. Tyler. Especially considering the tremendous amount of gunfire, from regular police and SWAT, sent straight toward the transmogrified Gwyllm Griffiths. Then Officer Travis reloaded his own Glock with his own final ammo clip.

And, as such furious hellfire still continued to harmlessly head up toward this Futuristic Man of Sixteen Million Years...

"The fools!" Gwyllm loudly proclaimed, more with his peerless telepathic power than spoken words from a mouth Time, and telepathy, had all-but-obliterated. "As I am certain the many news networks have already reported in regards to my triumphant 'march' through not only Vancouver, but Seattle and form of normal weaponry made by Man can harm me! No bullet nor RPG can penetrate the telekinetic 'screen' I have easily erected about my ultra-advanced person! Nothing can harm me. Nothing! But I can most definitely inflict harm on them..."

As something eerily close to a maniacal laugh, again more from the massive mind than diminutive mouth of the multi-million year evolved individual!, echoed through the minds of men and women fighting for their immediate domain...

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

Puh-poww! Puh-poww! Puh-poww!


...even as pistols, shotguns, and M16s did no more than amuse the massive-minded monster easily hurling aside police and SWAT alike with the merest fraction of psionic exertion...




He then telekinetically destroyed patrol cars and SWAT vans in a fashion such as they would do when finished with a paper cup that they crush prior to casually tossing it aside...




...and just as easily psionically igniting the gas in said vehicle's tanks in order to exert still stronger mental domination over the half-leveled Los Angeles area.

As to SWAT, it's never-say-die commander, Captain Gloria Ivan, one of the few women to so prove herself in tense situations and standoffs so as to rise rapidly to the top of L.A. SWAT's food chain...

"C'mon! Keep firin' at that freak! We can't back down now! We've already lost teammates to this bastard! We can't let 'em die in vain! Attack!"

As brave as Captain Ivan and her remaining SWAT members, indeed, were...

"Fools! Will they never learn?"

...Gwyllm, sixteen million years more advanced than everyone else, was, put simply, far too powerful to be stopped. Or even slightly slowed.


Captain Gloria Ivan, and pretty much the rest of SWAT, as well as most of the regular police still slugging it out with what amounted to an artificially created god!, were nearly-obliterated by no more mental exertion than a normal Human might manage to shoe away a housefly.

"Fire at will!"

That shout, simultaneously delivered via helmet headsets due to the surrounding noise of destruction and death dealt telekinetically, came from Colonel Esteban Cortez. The flack-jacketed commanding officer heading up the just-arrived California National Guard.

Armed with more than M16s and hand pistols, they unleashed a helluva lot more firepower from mounted weapons as well as heavily-armored tanks' turrets...




But just as had been the case in Salem, Oregon before, as well as Seattle, Washington earlier still...

"Your ignorance makes me ill and angry!" psionically said the greatly-progressed Gwyllm Griffiths, mirroring a moment from forty-plus years earlier when a six million year advanced man vocally proclaimed precisely the same as motorcycle police dared to defy him.



"Gwyllm, my love, please...stop."

That sudden psychically perceived voice sent shivers down what spine remained of the big-brained antagonist wantonly laying waste to any and all lying in his all-powerful path.

A virtuous voice as readily recognizable now as it had been for, lo, so many years of matrimonial harmony and happiness.

One having returned to a prevailing Fabric of Life-Consciousness from which even such as a sixteen million year advanced man like Gwyllm must always draw in order to truly exist.

Yet one that, somehow, due to a strange psychic connection wrought through four decades of True Love and True Happiness shared by Husband and Wife...

...had basically brought her back in what less-evolved individuals might name "ghost". Yet was, much more accurately, that ethereal part of Cathy Evans-Griffiths that had, at the exact instant of her physical demise due to cruel cancer, that had latched onto her greatly grieving husband. The Love of Her Life...even after her death.


Though that stunned response from the Futuristic Man of Sixteen Million Years, both through projected thought and simultaneously spoken word, took only a single second of real time...

...such seemed more a minor eternity to the immense mind, in sheer size and psionics, within the boulder-sized brain belonging to the evolved individual dealing death and destruction so heartlessly.

Though no one else could hope to hear her, let alone see her, such was well within the range of reality for an ultra-advanced super-Human named Gwyllm Griffiths.

" love..."

And such also caused the telekinetic screen surrounding and protecting the rapidly progressed person still psionically hovering high over the shattered city streets littered with the dead and dying...


Though that bloodcurdling scream came from a barely alive Colonel Cortez, those still standing, police, SWAT, and National Guardsmen!, unleashed all they had left in bullets and explosive shells in a cacophonous fury as indescribable as it was destructive...


The mangled mass that remained, after dropping bloodily down to the torn-asunder streets, bore very little resemblance to the big-brained freak that had threatened millions mere hours earlier.

Gwyllm's flesh was laid low and still. Definitely dead by anyone's hasty estimation.

But that part of him that was still True returned to the unseen Fabric of Life-Consciousness as his Beloved had done days ago...

As countless others had done, and would continue to do, for more millions of years than Gwyllm Griffiths had artificially evolved to experience.

In the end...Love did, indeed, conquer all.

We now return control of your computer to you. Until the next time this link takes you from the computer's processors to...The Outer Limits!