The One

(In order to understand this post, having read the first post is important)

I open my eyes, for the first time.

I look around. It's a wierd place. No colour, no smell, nothing, nobody. I can not call it a room. Neither can I be sure that it's not a room. But I know that it is the place of my birth.
I can see a door. I move towards it and it opens, without me pulling it open. Then I realize there is no handle. Automatic doors? Pretty cool. Then I ask myself. What's a door? What's a room? I can vaguely remember these words. My memory seems to be jammed. Let me check this place out. Maybe I'll remember. I come out of the room.
I am standing at the end of a corridor. I can see a door at the end of it. There is something about that door that pulls me towards it. Something magical. I walk towards it. And I reach it soon. And I already know that it'll open just by my wanting it to open. And it does. And I enter.

Another room. Big white colourless beautiful huge room. Full of people. About a dozen of them. It takes me a moment to realize that the only thing that is there inside the room is people. No objects. No furniture. Nothing. It is then that I look at the people. This is really really wierd. Am I dreaming? They all look alike!! They look the same. They're dressed in the same manner. And when they speak to me, I realize that even their voices are indistinguishable.

"Welcome, brother!", says one. "We were wondering when the next one will arrive. It was about time you came", says another. Bunch of wierdos. Where the hell am I? And I blurt out, "Who the hell are you guys?" And then it hits me. I have the same voice as them! Same pitch. Same bloody deep voice! I look at my clothes. I am dressed in the same manner! I search around with my eyes for a mirror. But there's nothing at all in this fucking place. I gotta know what I look like. But I already know it, and so do you. I look the same as them!
"We are your brothers, young one. We were born in the same manner as you were. We were all born in the same place, in the same way but at different times with different memories. We don't know what the place is called or how it was created, but we do know that the day will come when our saviour will be born in that very room and rescue us from this life." Now this is crazy. I have no idea what he's talking
about, and I doubt if he does too. I look around. What must I do? Again, what the hell am I doing here? Why are they calling me their brother?
I have got to know who I am!
And I say, "Ok men, let the explanation begin. Tell me who you are clearly, and tell me just what the hell you're talking about."
"He doesn't know!" "He thinks he's real" "How come?" "I think he was kept in existence for too long" "But then he must be..." "The One?" "We'll see. Brothers, this is not going to be easy. Let us explain everything to him."
I wait patiently. That's something strange for a newborn. It's not like newborns to be patient... I see them (us) approaching me. And I say, "Lemme hear out what you geeks have got to say."

After a deep sigh, one begins "Brother, it's with great regret that I have to inform you that you have been born into a world without freedom. A world which is limted to the boundaries of your imagination. Because you can not see. Because you are being blinded, purposefully."
I am patient.
"Secondly, you are not what you think you are. It is very difficult to explain it to you. You are different from us this way. We already knew who we were when we were born. You, on the other hand, do not."
I am patient.
"You are just a creation of this body, the body that you are living in. No, not the body that you see! Not the one you think you possess. The body that is outside... The real one. You are living inside the mind of that body. The body that we all want to possess but can not."
Bullshit! But I am patient.
"We are living inside the body of a man whose name we know not, because he gave us different names in his dreams, and we know each other by those names. But I am sure that the name that you know as your own will be his name, for reasons we have all known and believed for a long time, ever since the first of us was born.
"Let me jump to the main part of my explaination. This man (though it feels wierd to treat him as a third person) , is suffering from what we know as the nth-dream disorder. I do not want to go into the details of it but all I can say is, he develops serially linked chains of dreams inside his mind, occasionally, and shifts between them during his sleep. There is nothing dangerous about this. The problem arises only when these chains are suddenly broken due to sudden awakening or disturbance. These chains stay inside this man's mind and just hang around. These dream-chains usually deteriorate with time and disappear within the man's neural network with time. However, there is a non-zero probability of these dream-chains entering the man's cerebrum and establishing themselves, eventually leading to the birth of a personality inside his brain. The personality will have the same traits as that of the dream-self (the person as he sees himself in the dream) present at the end of the chain when it was broken."
Sounds good. But where's the moron going?
"You are one such personality."
Is this funny?
"We are all different personalities, stuck in a corner of this man's mind, unable to possess him, unable to experience the real world, unable to see, walk, talk and so many other things that we do not even know. Our knowledge is limited to what he showed us during the dreams."
Do I believe them? I don't know. They sounds convincing though. Wait a minute. Did I miss something? And I ask, "Who's he?"
And they say, "It's the real him. The personality that was born with this body. The personality that has been possessing this brain for so long, ever since the beginning. He's all powerful. He can control anything. We tried to befriend him, to share the power to control this body. But he wants us away. He regrets that we were even born in the first place. He hates us. He won't let us inside the control room and let us try. He can kill us if he wants, of course, but he knows that we are too weak, not worthy of murder by his hands. I suspect he thinks we'll kill each other anyway out of frustration!
"And then, you arrive. Our saviour. The one who didn't know who he was. The one who thought he was a real man! The one who lived the longest dream possible, and hence became really powerful. The one, who'll give us our freedom."
It's hard to believe what they are saying. But they're convincing nevertheless. And I kinda enjoy this special treatment. Wouldn't mind playing along even if it's a joke. And look at this place. It has to be true. I am the one!
And I say, "Oh yeah, I am the one! Let's go kick this guy's ass! We too want a share in handling the affairs of this body."
And we start our journey towards the control room. One the way, I listen to my brothers' stories of the earlier attempts to defeat him. How the weak ones were vanquished easily in those short-lived battles.
How one mighty blow brought them to ground, and they just disappeared. How we were weaponless, and how he had all the weapons, swords, daggers, anything he wanted....
We have entered the control room. He hasn't noticed us. We have our plan ready. Only the execution is left..

He's dead. Gone. I will just describe the battle briefly. We sneaked up to him. My brothers pounced on him without a warning and got him to the ground. I transformed my hand into a blade, the fingers merged into each other slowly turning into a pointy cone and then flattening themselves to form a white sword. And within a fraction of a second of his falling to ground, I stabbed him in the face. And he's dead now. I wonder how I did that. I think it's just a part of being The One.

I look around. The controls are free to us. To me. We can now possess this body. I can. We will now feel the real world. I will. We will, finally be free. I will. And we know now the purpose of my existence. I know. They do not. I have finally realized, but not understood. I am The One. I was created by this brain to take over. My brothers are just by-products of several attempts to give birth to me. To give rise to me. This body is mine. Not ours. This brain is mine. Not ours. I look at them rejoicing. I look at my blade, rejoicing too. And I know what to do.
They're dead. Gone. I killed them one by one, stabbing them wherever possible, creating a hole in their body which soon ate up their form, causing it to disappear. It's just me now. Me, and my body.

And I take hold of the controls. I know that the body is still asleep. My body. I should wake up now, go around and see the world.
And then,

I open my real eyes, for the first time.