Sleepwalking

A sound soul, dwells within a sound mind, in a sound body.

Or at least, so I've heard.

I was hunched over in my laboratory, typing away at a computer I had used many times for various reports. I could understand most concepts to a certain extent- life, death, even what may lie beyond- but the concept of a soul slipped through my fingers every time.

Why was it that when reviving a human body, it simply sits, brain dead? Why is it unable to function, when I have repaired every other part? What do I fail to see?

I admit, I wasn't keen on researching phenomena like this before I lost my children. I see it as hogwash- frivolous, useless stories told by the old to instill the fear of death into the young. But the more I look, the more merit these stories have.

Strange apparitions, all over my home- I had assumed they were hallucinations. After all, why shouldn't I? My mind is tortured; its common for such images to appear to me. But Mariana has noticed them too- so has Benjamin.

I cannot let this go unchecked.

I've been looking into everything I can involving magic from Sammi's dimension- perhaps this is caused by a wavelength I have yet to understand. But I cannot find anything on ghosts- much less ones that have so much... Form.

My attention was drawn out of my pondering and thoughts as a small notification appeared on my computer screen. My feedback loop, picking up more audio activity. I sighed, clicking on the notification. It was all so garbled- murmuring, I could hear, but couldn't make out much else. I sighed, closing the tab.

"Damn it..." I stretched, sitting back in my chair. It was three in the morning- of course, not that time mattered to me.

"A sound soul..." I leaned over towards my notes, checking the pages thoroughly. Yes, the concept of a soul. I was partially familiar with it - although there were many factors of it that I did not understand.

I loosely understood the idea of a soul. Something that humans possess which gives us personality. But where did we draw the line with this? Did every living being have a soul? What happens to it when death takes its owner? How can we be sure such a thing really exists?

My hands twitched, and I grabbed a pen, fiddling with it, as I recalled a conversation I'd had with Orion.

"You see," He began, "Most people believe in the existence of an afterlife. This begs the question; does this mass belief prove that there's merit to the claim? Furthermore; we cannot ignore the concept of souls. Your zombies failed because that is what they lacked, Arche." I had frowned.

"You cannot be sure that is why they failed. Perhaps decomposition had irreversible damage on the brain." The black-haired man let out a chuckle.

"We both know that an issue of that caliber would catch your attention. Arche, your children are gone. They've moved on. No matter how many bodies you bring back, their souls have gone. You know this as well as I do." I had frowned.

"There's nothing to suggest that the concept of a soul even exists." Orion had adjusted his glasses, and walked off.

"We both know that you're lying to yourself," He had murmured as he left.

I took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Artemis, set lights to setting three." The laboratory lights dimmed, as I stood up.

"Perhaps another day," I murmured.