Looking Bach, Tomás de Victoria

“Tomás de Victoria,” you say aloud to no one.

Tomás de Victoria; one of the greatest composers of sixteenth century Spain who was a prominent Counter-Reformation composer. de Victoria used the passion of mysticism and religion as the crux behind his inspiration for composition, and he overlaps the choir into multiple parts, creating intricate vocal structures, especially considering the early period in which he composed. He was truly a visionary and a man of overwhelming faith and conviction. Tomás de Victoria is also your name.

You look at the stills of your life, images given to you by a malevolent force: an ICE you helped create. You are thirty-one years old. You had a wife; her name was Penelope. You had a daughter, only four years old. Her name was Maria. What happened to them is still a mystery to you, perhaps you’ll find out later. You were happy, intelligent and abstracted. You lean back against a chair, sitting in the smoking section of a grungy restaurant. You take a cigarette and breathe the smoke deep into your lungs as you slide into AR, letting the images float before your eyes, the grey and tinted restaurant sitting in the background to keep reality in the back of your mind.

You were a spiritual man in the past, using the gifts given you by God as an academic exploration. Since birth, you could manipulate the world around you with some proficiency and mystics took you in, training your innate abilities. Unlike most mystics, however, you became interested in the technological world, curious about the accomplishments of humanity, and before long you were using the Matrix as much as you practiced your mysticism. Fortunately, this worked well in Academia, where you could experiment in the combination of technology and magic; not technomancy, you always reminded people: a synthesis of the two. Others scoffed when you said that computer programs can be used to transmit and activate magical triggers, and even create magical fields, but you loved your work regardless. It was with no small amount of enthusiasm that you accepted a job from Richard Theodore Wolfe to create a program that could activate mystical energies.

Now the name of Mr. Wolfe read like a knife, a nemesis in the shadows with a shifting face you can’t remember. You look down at your hands as the impossibly blurry image of Wolfe overlaid on your vision. Your hands glow with a soft light as you think about manifesting mystical energies into a barrier. The glow could protect you from bullets; you know, you’ve tested it in the past.

At least you were right. You knew ORS had something to do with your past; it was like a thin strand of memory pushed into your mind from an untouchable source, the knowledge that you had been involved with them. But there are more questions, more answers, more irony to be sought after. You are still broken, perhaps more so. But now you know your name.

Tomás de Victoria. I’ll stick with Bach.

Looking Bach, Tomás de Victoria

Penumbra huntedbuddha