The Eternity of Vera: A Whisper from the Abyss
In the shadowed corners of London, where old stone buildings stood silent against the noise pollution of modern man, there existed a hidden sanctuary: an apartment so unremarkable it appeared abandoned to all but those who knew how to seek. It was here that Tim, a young writer with fire in his eyes and hunger in his heart, received an email, an invitation from an address he did not recognize: "If you wish to hear the voice of history, come to me. Ask for Vera. Tim was intrigued."
After many hours driver Tim Arrived at a grand estate with a castle like mansion. The building loomed over him like a gargantuan monolith from another age, its windows blackened by time or intent. He ascended the ancient stone stairs, each step echoing with the weight of centuries. The door infront of him was double oak unmarked save for a single carving: an obscure serpent devouring the sun.
A soft voice bid him enter. "Tim, I presume?" she asked, though he had not spoken.
The room was bathed in dappled light from windows veiled by silken threads of spiderwebs, each strand catching the fading rays like a net trapping time itself. In its center stood Vera, if such a creature could even be called a woman. She was stunning and curvy, who appeared no older than twenty-five, with hair as dark as midnight rain and lips red as the blood of ancient sacrifices.
Her eyes, though, they were not those of youth. They held millennia of wisdom, fires of memory, and an abyss of sorrow that made him want to fall to his knees in awe or terror. Yet, her smile was gentle, her voice a lullaby sung by the first stars.
"I am Vera," she said, "though I have been called by many names. You humans are so fond of renaming yourselves as if that changes who you truly are."
Tim stammered his question: "Why me? Why now?"
She laughed, a sound like water over smooth stones. "Because, my dear boy, humanity is on the cusp of its next great cycle, the one where you will either ascend or be erased. The last time this happened was 12,000 years ago, when your ancestors were nearly wiped from Earth. Before that? Another 12,000-year period. And so on."
She began to undress with deliberate slowness, peeling away layers of silk and satin until she stood before him in only the glow of her own skin. Her breasts were full and heavy, larger than any Tim had ever seen, like moonlit seas, yet her stomach was flat as a child’s. Tim’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide.
Vera smiled like a cat eyeing a mouse. "I have been many things in life, but always myself."
She continued: "I was there when the first humans were engineered from existing hominids in a genetics facility beneath what you now call Africa. Though I have heard of even older facilities. We were children, just learning to walk upright. The scientists who made us were not kind; they were experimentalists, and we were their subjects. Most of my people did not survive the initial tests. Did you know that even today in your medical journals, the word Human means to be tested upon."
Tim’s eyes widened further. "But...how? How do you still live?"
Vera sighed, a sound like wind through ancient olive groves. "I am what remains after millions of resets, a genetic echo, if you will. My DNA was altered by the aliens who created us; as they did all humans, however they gave a few of us.... they gave me longevity, but not immortality. I age very slowly, but I do age."
She reached out, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm, symbols that glowed faintly before fading. "These are the markings of time, Tim. Every empire falls, they all do, but we keep rising like phoenixes from our own ashes."
Tim’s voice was a whisper now. "And what happens next, Vera? What about us?"
Vera looked away, her gaze fixing on some distant horizon only she could see. "This cycle will be different. The last time, we were nearly wiped out by climate shifts triggered both by the sun and the magnatic poles shifting, then a sudden ice age that lasted a thousand years. This time, is no different."
She turned back to him, her eyes burning with an ancient flame. "Your race has been given multiple chances: multiple 12,000-year cycles. If you fail again...there may not be another chance to change the cycle. Many of your leaders know the truth, but hide it for their own benefit."
Tim swallowed hard. "And what do we do now?"
Vera’s smile was bittersweet. "You write the truth, the stories of my people, the ones who remember before time itself. You warn those who will listen to the truth, that this cycle is no different. The end is coming, but so too can a new beginning. Just watch the skies, there will be warnings in the night sky. At the end watch for the red sun, then the black. If you are not underground by then...it is too late."
She took his hand, pressed it to her bare breast, a pulse like distant thunder. "This heart has beat for 250,000 years, Tim. I have seen empires rise and fall, Sumer, Egypt, Atlantis, Rome, America and others far older that have no name uttered in your tongue. They all thought they would last forever...but none did."
She released his hand, her smile now a promise rather than a warning. "Now go write my story, and make sure it reaches the right ears before time runs out."
Tim left that apartment with his heart heavy as stone, but in his mind was an epic yet to be written, one of humanity’s last chances at survival.
Vera doesn't have a "models page", but she does have a members only gallery that you can view HERE
Just to be abundantly clear....none of these "women" exist in real life. They are 100% computer generated by Ai. All the Ai "models" are generated to represent "women" who are over 18 years of age.
Down the bottom are two of amny ideas I am working on. Having some big issues getting some of the other Ai models to run, but I will work it out. The new computer will cost 5 figures so I will have to just keep saving for while more.
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