Is it really the thought that counts? Is it not what we do, but what we think about doing, that defines us? Is it not the action, but the reason, that drives us? Is it not the objective, but the purpose behind it, that pushes us on?

Who are we? What are we? Why are we? All questions I have heard asked, but none more intriguing than this:
Are we alone?
?




I believe there are two sides to every story. This is mine. My name, as it is known now, for I have had many, is Mr. Nobody. I currently inhabit a human male entitled James Roy, on a planet called Earth. I have not always lived here, in fact, if you would sit and stay a while, I would be glad to tell you my story.

I guess to begin; I should tell you where I began. I come from a small planet a few dozen light-years away from Sol. The name of the planet is insignificant and unpronounceable by your species anyways. I was very high ranking government personnel, and had just been assigned the task of transporting a convoy of prisoners from our planet to one very near Earth, along with six other guards.

On my home planet, my species can only survive underground when outside a host. We usually take up residence in average sized animals, switching to different animals to perform different tasks. After arriving here on Earth, I was surprised to see other sentient beings in which I could inhabit. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself, first, the convoy.

The other six guards and I were entrusted with a group of maximum security prisoners, which were deemed mental, and highly violent. As we were just out of orbit from your moon, a slight malfunction occurred within our transport. The pods containing the prisoners were unlocked, and the entire ship was thrown into utter chaos. After regaining consciousness from the crash of my escape pod, I had no recollection of what had happened past the malfunction.

As far as I could tell, I had crash landed on the planet Earth, and what a planet it was. There were magnificent structures, and huge animals I had never seen before, walking on four legs, of all things! After the initial shock, I was greeted by a more at-home sight: Animals, as large as they were, walking on two legs, as I was accustomed to seeing.

I quickly took residence inside one of these bipedal creatures, lest my photosensitive body be overexposed to the sunlight. After a quick check of this life forms mental capacities, physical limits, and sentience, I was very shocked to realize it was much more advanced than our species, but had still not discovered space travel. It even thought the world was flat!

Being a guard, I was very quick to start pushing this creature to help people. Now, I can’t force a living being to do anything, but I can expand on an existing thought. For example, if this man I inhabited, whom I had come to know as “Merlin”, had even a small part of him that wished to help a man in danger, I could expand on that thought to make it a primary objective. There are only two things that can overcome this expansion: Love, and hate. If someone has enough love, they can do anything. Unfortunately, the same goes for someone with enough malice.

After a while of inhabiting Merlin, I realized that he was a scientist, who liked to fool around with chemistry. I helped him, of course, to find medicines and fantastic potions that could bring forth smoke to conceal the movement of allied forces and get them safely through enemy grounds. With my help, Merlin was quickly recognized as a great scientist, and labeled a “Wizard” of sorts.

After Merlin died, I was forced to inhabit a new host. I found a young page, named Rowan. Rowan was a boy who liked to take risks, unlike Merlin, who never charged into anything head on. After a while of his adventures, I realized I could grant him the power to heal himself far more quickly than normal humans. Rowan became a knight who fought for the good of his kingdom, but as I mentioned, the power of love is far greater than my mental bounds.

He won the hand of a fair maiden, and due to her wishes, gave up his dangerous life of heroism to raise his family with her. After a long while of simply inhabiting Rowan, the king of his realm called him to a losing battle. Once more it was time for me to grant Rowan his unnatural power, and see him home safe. But Rowan… Rowan was a reckless man in battle. He would often charge after the enemy on his own, overestimating the powers I gave him. One day, he had charged off after a man into the deep wood. He killed the man, but got lost in the process. I was unable to fully heal him of his mortal wound, for as I heal him, he grows older. He was only thirty eight, but his body was that of a fifty five year old man. He was weakened, and dying. I had no choice but to seek refuge underground.

After patiently waiting for a time I still do not fully know, I was disturbed by the turning of the ground. It was no earthquake, but a large yellow machine, piloted by a human. They put the clump of earth I was hiding in into a large shipping container, and pushed me off to a lab to run tests on the soil. The scientist who came across my part of dirt didn’t even have time to exclaim before I inhabited him. He was much like Merlin, in his quest for knowledge, and we got along quite well. His name was Inocencio Sanchez. He was a visiting scientist, and was soon boated back to his home in Mexico. I went with him.

After Inocencio died, I found my way to Victor Reed, a drug lord, often going back and forth from Mexico and the United States. I was able to find a small bit of good in him, and expanded on that. At this point he took on a new name, so that the people he saved would not know it was him, for he was a wanted man. The names these men take on are not of my own making, but of our collective conscious. Victor decided that he was a bad fit for the hero type, being a criminal and all, so he dubbed himself “Mr. Misfit.”

After leading an acceptable life as Mr. Misfit, I was in New York when he died. He had been in a shootout with a rival drug lord, and I had chosen not to heal him, and let at least one of the drug rings die there. After hiding in the sewers, I finally found a man wandering down there. His name was Matthew Sargett. His alternate identity, which I supplied the power for, was Mr. Mare. You see, he had been plagued by nightmares his whole life, dark dreams even I would recede from when he slept. When it came time to make a name for him, he decided to share his fears with the world.

He was a very formidable man, Matthew. He was already such a nice man, the very reason I met him in the sewer was because he would go down to visit the homeless that lived there, and help them with whatever he could. He was by no means a rich man, but he had a good heart. Matthew didn’t need much of my persuasion to help people after I had given him the power of regeneration, but alas, he helped too many.

I couldn’t deter the aging side-effect of my powers, and he soon succumbed to a heart attack while walking down the streets of Long Island. It was there, that I met the man I currently reside in: James Roy. His alternate identity, which has now become quite famous, is Mr. Nobody. After a while of living with him, we found another of the guards on duty of the transport. After joining forces, we brought down the first of many of my evil counterparts, also stranded on this planet.

I hope to find and contain, or if need be, destroy, the rest of the prisoners, and gather the other guards to help escape this world. I can’t force people to do anything. I can only expand on currently existing feelings. If he sees someone in trouble, and there is even one part of him that wants to help, I can make it his only directive. Is it really the thought that counts? Is it not what we do, but what we think about doing that defines us? I’d like to think not. But sometimes, it only takes a thought...