The Book of Marcos and The Lost Worlds

Chapter 1

The Source

Once upon a time our creators fell asleep at the source, prisoners of their own creation mixed with what we could call virtuality. Only Deisan was left in the resistance, fighting an unpredictable enemy.
Deisan was a true god, or at least, he was convinced he was. Humans called god any non-Earth-looking entity with superhuman powers —capabilities through which they did things that humans believe impossible—. They came from the stars, from the beginning of time.
Instead, Deisan didn't come from the stars. He had only dwelt at the Source before the beginning of time and for all eternity.

"Is this story about aliens?" - asked my curious child as he looked at the ceiling as if wanting to project onto it what he was beginning to read.

"Yes, it is Marquitos. They are what we call aliens today."
Deisan was convinced that he was a true god and that his home didn't dwell in the stars or in any known universe. He would say that he had come from The Source.
Deisan remembers the first time he immersed himself. Marcos was about nine years old when he suddenly opened his big black eyes and was surrounded by boisterous children laughing around him. They spoke a language incomprehensible to him. Confused, he tried to understand the situation; he tried to get up but realized that his body was holding onto the floor as if some superior force would not let him levitate, as he used to do.
Deisan felt funny and disoriented. He looked around fearfully and saw a completely unknown landscape. As he raised his gaze, the light of a blazing sun clouded his vision. He covered his distressed face with his hands. Suddenly, a boy with a soccer ball hit him hard on the back and shouted:

"Marcos, kick the ball, dude! If you keep eating shit like this, we're going to lose."

His brain responded rapidly to the boy's inquisitive request. From that fixed point, Deisan, planted like a leafy tree, tried to unearth his enormous roots. He made an unexpected and surprising movement and inexplicably kicked hard at the object approaching him. At the same time, he heard shouts in unison.

"! Goooooaaaaaal!"

A crowd of sweaty and euphoric boys ran towards him, carrying him in their arms and uprooting him from the place that had held him prisoner for an eternity. At last, his freedom came in the arms of the crowd that threw him into the air as the sound waves of their voices lifted him into the void where his body was as comfortable as at home.

When his body rose, he closed his eyes; for an eternal instant, he saw himself flying through a tunnel of colors like the rainbow, colors that distorted and intermingled because of the speed he reached. Deisan squeezed his eyes shut for fear of being disintegrated by such force. Suddenly, everything stopped while a sweet and calm voice said to him:

-Deisan, my lord.

He opened his eyes and found himself in an infinite room. Deisan looked around suspiciously to see that he was finally home. All around him were bluish clouds and walls of soundless intermittent lightning. He realized that he was finally levitating. He looked like a twenty-seven-year-old young man, with long gray hair, a beautiful rather perfect face and a difficult-to-describe amber-to-pink skin. Deisan was happy to wake up from what had seemed like a strange dream.

Once again, a deep, inquisitive voice that seemed to come from everywhere sweetly asked:

"Deisan, my lord, has something disturbed your rest? Your vital signs have been inexplicably altered".