Children of the Program by Brad Cox

the center of the circle and began mock sparring.  Juno inspired their choreography.  Directed by Rand, clothing projected onto their bodies, like a hologram.  They morphed to represent various moments of their shared human existence.  In the beginning, they fought with spears; in the end, with bombs. 
                  They were the warriors.
                  Returning to their positions, they interlocked their quaking hands.  The Book of Records was then opened to reveal their past lives.  The consuming beam subtly shifted from sapphire to indigo.  Like lustful voyeurs, they peered into the minds surrounding them.  They could witness their intersecting paths and mistakes and feel the pains of their horror-filled afterlives.  The whispering voices overhead would shift between a choir of praise to the guttural screams of the underworld.
                  It was then, they knew.  They remembered it all.  They were chosen for The Program .
                  The rules of The Program repeated from the sky's mouth.  Words overlapped in various tongues, falling like a purified rain.  Their gravity was synonymous to the laws of nature; they were binding and absolute.  In the sky, the souls of the damned sensually writhed across one another.  Some pleaded, begging for notice.
                  “You are now ready!  The Program is an unbreakable cycle.  It cannot be interfered with by The Council.  Your transgressions in these lifetimes will not be chronicled in the Book of Records, but may create a vast barrier between your soul and your mission for solvency and absolution from the physical plane.  If it takes a 1,000 lifetimes to produce a Crystalline child, you will live them all.  Your miracle children will usher in an awakening.  They are the enlightenment of our new age.  You will know them by their indigo eyes,” echoed the Council.
                  The group held tightly to each other.  The energy from the radiant lights forced them into a 120 degree angle.  The vibration of the Council's voice sent shock waves through their rattling skulls, but their eyes remained transfixed.  They were possessed by the sky.  The bright light in the middle of the circle morphed into a fire and withdrew back to the heavens from which it spawned.  Black birds dropped like rain upon the desert floor. 
                  The group collapsed.
     
    +++             
     
    Hours passed before they awoke.  Dez was the first to his lifeless feet.  He quickly redressed and pulled a fresh joint from his tattered jacket pocket.  Kicking the midnight ravens, he returned to the security of the red rocks, where he'd been arrogantly resting.  His frayed nerves were shot.  The marijuana cooled him, but his new perspective — intoxicating. 
                  “I may live a 1,000 lifetimes?” Dez pondered.  “1,001 lifetimes?”
                  The Program was a jagged pill to swallow.  His memories, like the others, were now amplified with visceral sensitivity.  He'd feel his skin burn, if he thought about the heartless underworld.  His mind was a battlefield littered with landmines.  An abyss of sorrow consumed him, as he tiptoed through the memories of his losses from former lifetimes.  He could deduce where the fossilized souls of his old friends and forgotten family members were spending their otherworldly days.  The Program didn't invoke his inspiration.  He was haunted by it.  To Dez, it was hell on earth. 
                  Zane awoke and joined the shattering man in the distance.  Without a word, she uncomfortably took the joint from his lazy hands and deeply inhaled.  “So, we've got a pretty far out road ahead of us?” she asked, clumsily attempting his phrasing.
                  “You may, lass!  I don't know about you, but I'm going to continue living my goddamned