Bio-Elysium by Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten 🧬(date of birth: 19th November 1965)

released May 15, 2025

In addition to my latest album, which I released just eleven days ago on May 4, 2025, today, May 15, 2025, I am releasing my brand new single Bio-Elysium. (And soon, Mark Landagan, Stephen Smith, and I will be releasing our third hit single as Landagan Smith and Mountbatten, Rat-Race • Metal Ball Tango, which will be a truly hard rocking affair 😀 ). I was never a style fascist or any sort of fascist (therefore totally Unbritish although British), and I live my works of art just like the Greek prophetic sea god Proteus, change styles and sound shapes with Proteus for advantages, emerge like Proteus from the sea of classical art and music to sleep among my colony of synthesizer artists, take the forms of a rocker, a funker, a popper, a jazzer, even of a twelve-tone artist. In psychology Proteus is defined as a personification of the unconscious, who, because of his gift of prophecy and shape-changing, has much in common with the central but elusive figure of alchemy; and finally as a creative composer seeing myself also in the role of an alchemist, literally making gold out of cheap metal.
This is another protest work of art from me against the serious violations of my fundamental human rights by the criminal human but inhuman monsters and their numerous cowardly henchmen, who dare rule Great Britain with monstrous and eternally unforgivable brutality, that is made as if invisible from the outside (so that only they, the perpetrators and their helpless victims know). This is being driven behind the scenes by the greedy, sadistic, criminal gypsies in power, while the fascist-communist-centred BBC press tells us how much worse things are in all the other countries on Earth. That may well be the case, but I still want to be treated fairly in my home country, Great Britain, just like in every other country (Germany or Serbia, etc.) and it goes without saying that I will absolutely not tolerate any conspiracy to murder me.
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All works composed, written, performed and produced by myself, Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten, date of birth 19th November 1965, since 23rd March 2016 my address is 27 Dale St, North Blyth, Cambois, Blyth, Northumberland, NE24 1SB, England, Great Britain, United Kingdom.
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All of my many thousands of music works that I have composed throughout my life, on average I compose/write three pieces of basically neoclassical music a day, have been royalty free since April 2018.
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[Sequel 4 of my sci-fi story:]
I wanted to form my own opinion about the people behind the two groups face to face, regardless of how they dressed or whether they wore any symbols which in the ancient sense of a long-gone past would be judged as politically incorrect. In the dirty streets of the Bronx, I saw four men from the mixed society group rummaging from house to house looking for useful items. I approached them with a friendly smile and waved from afar, while my two colleagues Marks and Stepho observed my actions from a safe distance. They seemed friendly and let me approach. Although they spoke Spanish, they all also spoke English. They asked if I was alone, and I answered yes, that I was a surviving astronaut and that my landing capsule had crash-landed not far from here due to a misfire in the engine, and that I had just barely managed to get out of the broken, burning landing capsule alive before it exploded and nothing was left of it. As soon as they thought I was really alone, they pointed their guns at me and ordered me to empty my pockets. One of them laughed, saliva pouring from his toothless, dirty face, trying to tell me I'd made a big mistake by trying to join them. He said in his silly French accent, "you not one of us, you not mixed society". He showed me his middle finger and said, "This is England", and laughed at me like some French peasant. Then he pointed his gun right at my chest and, grinning dirty, pulled the trigger back with his thumb. I kicked the gun out of his hands, the rifle butt ended up in his dirty face and a few more teeth flew out of his stinking French gob, and I immediately kicked him right in the balls. I kicked the guy standing right next to him as hard as I could in the ribs. And since the other two had moved further back, chatting and joking, and were smoking some South American rolled-up weed, I decided to run away as fast as I could, between the ruins and through the bushes behind the houses towards my two colleagues. I said to Marks and Stepho: well, gentlemen, for me at least the question of which of the two groups I would rather join has now been answered. Finally there was no objection. I immediately told the drone to take us the shortest route to the Nazis, and we set off. After walking extremely carefully and cautiously for a few kilometers through the perilous streets of the Bronx, we found the almost completely devoured body of one of the Nazis lying next to a smoking bonfire, and we were shocked to realize that at least one group of people, the ones from the mixed society, were cannibals. We just stared at each other in silence. The shock of this realisation was still deep and unprocessed in our bones, when we were tracked down by a larger group of those savage monsters from the mixed society. They immediately hunted us down as if we were fair game. We practically ran for our lives, the spacesuit helmet in one hand, bullets whizzing past our ears. Then suddenly machine gun fire from the direction in which we were fleeing. The same Nazi reconnaissance patrol cut down our pursuers like dry grass and within seconds none of the mixed society cannibals chase-hunting and hounding us were left alive. The space suits of course remained undamaged, but all three of us were bruised and scratched all over our faces and hands. The leader of the Nazi reconnaissance troop handed me his water bottle and casually said that we seemed to him to be in desperate need of help. I remembered for a moment that in 2018, roughly two years after I moved to North Blyth/Northumberland from Folkestone/Kent, a German woman from Freiburg suddenly knocked on my front door. She said she was a dancer and married to an Englishman named Alex Huss-Oates and they had recently moved here to North Blyth. I heard that guy at Cambois beach saying that his ancestors were gypsies. She practically swung her ugly mixed race half Kraut half English with gypsy toddler through my door, which I found to be an incredibly tasteless presumption, especially since I'm still not a father. And I immediately thought that the people of Freiburg, who have always lacked good character and morals, had only infiltrated this young blonde woman here so that they could continue to profit from my work and also to continue insulting me; and this already long before the times of the 1990s when even dim-witted Freiburg disc jockeys like one named Damir Oberst dared to lie and pretend to have co-composer rights to one of my works (my song London Labyrinth is here an example). Sometimes I am wondering who the most cowardly piece of shit of all those conspirators is, because there's this disgusting scumbag called David Turner from Cardiff, a classic typically cowardly Welsh hypocrite who thinks he has the right to even run webpages on Discogs in my name. Actually a criminal without a trace, because what he did is a classic criminal act, to claim that he is supposedly a fan of my works, just to, with his spreading of lies and misinformation, make it easier for the gypsy thieves who steal and rob me and to make it easier for them to carry out their misdeeds. With those international gypsies, stand the most corrupt police officers I have ever met in my life, and amazingly, all four 'Corruptocops' from Northumberland: PC Ross McKenzie 2410, CSO Neil Humble 4776, PSI 4592 Young, and DSGT 8750 Dobling camouflaged as "criminal investigation unit Bedlington" but deliberately plant lies and fabricated pseudo-misdemeanors which they collect in an alleged file about me, the purest terrorists, and clearly in a conspiracy to murder me, they should be tried before an international tribunal like the International Court of Justice in The Hague. I looked into the Nazi leader's brown eyes and I thanked him and took a sip of the cool, clean, tasty drinking water, then passed the water bottle on to Mark and Stephen. He spoke good Oxford School English and said that it would be better for us if we came with them to their settlement not far from here, where we could also be treated if one of us was injured. A little hesitant, especially because of everything we had just experienced, we went along as quietly as three little rodents, looking back over our shoulders from minute to minute as if a horde of zombies were after us. Mark just said that he hopes that they don't plan as well to roast us on a campfire and then eat us, when I heard the leader speaking German with one of his men. He said, "Die glauben tatsächlich, daß wir auch Kannibalen sind". I said in German, nein, jetzt mit Sicherheit nicht mehr, wir vertrauen Euch vollstens und sind froh nur Dank Euch überhaupt noch am Leben zu sein. The leader turned around, looked at me and said astonished, "Ach, Sie sind Deutscher?" I replied Nein, aber ich bin in Deutschland groß geworden, wo ich mehrsprachige Erziehung genossen hatte, und habe dort 30 Jahre lang gelebt. He shook my hand happily smiling, "Super, großartig!!" I added, mir fällt sprichwörtlich ein Stein vom Herzen zivilisierte Menschen wie sie und ihre Männer heut zu Tage noch auf der Erde anzutreffen. Gott sei Dank. Und vielen herzlichen Dank nochmals dafür, daß sie uns vor den Kannibalen gerettet haben. Wir stehen in ihrer Schuld. We entered the settlement through heavily guarded steel gates, where we were greeted in a friendly and respectful manner with vegetarian food and drink. Marks and Stepho were chatting with a group of our compatriots from Great Britain, when the leader offered to shake my hand a second time and said: "Willkommen in unserer Siedlung Bio-Elysium. Ich heiße Robert." Bio-Elysium, the same name as one of my synthesizer music pieces that I composed and wrote and completed most recently in early May 2025. "Yes, exactly," Robert replied, "I love that music ... What? You... you are Deian Mountbatten the greatest artist of all time?!" Yes, spot on, that's me. Herzlichen Dank, I added happily, ich heiße Deian, viele nennen mich jedoch bei meinem zweiten Vornamen Louis, weil die meisten Probleme haben meinen ersten christlichen Vornamen, Deian, richtig auszusprechen.
Later I went over to Marks and Stepho and said, don't ask me how and why, but I know that your families are alive and well, and they aren't too far away from here, they are on the British Falklands islands. "Thank God!" cried Marks and Stepho euphorically in one voice, and everybody stopped talking for a moment to look at us. "Are you sure? Definitely?" they whispered. Yes, I replied, without doubt, definitely. "We only just spoke with the other British chaps we met here, and they said that they are leaving this camp tomorrow morning going East to reach the Argentinian coast and from there by boat to the Falklands. We already said that we will join them. You should too." No, I replied, I must stay here for now. My loved ones unfortunately aren't in the Falklands. "But how come you know, tell us, please." Okay, I said, something unusual had happened at the very moment just before we were running away from that giant hall through the corridor inside the comet Omuaomua to escape the radiation.
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[Sequel 5 of my sci-fi story The Fall Of Man, continued with track 2, You Are Hereby Morally Red Carded:]
I didn't tell Mark and Stephen too much, only that a message inexplicably appeared on the screen built into my helmet visor that their families had survived the apocalypse on Earth and fled to the Falkland Islands with the last survivors of Great Britain. However.
The moment was infinitesimal, a fraction of a fraction of time too small for human perception. And yet, as it happened, the Cosmos seemed to pause, as if it had gasped in surprise at what was unfolding. I, Deian Mountbatten, stood inside the cavernous hall, my boots planted on the petrified surface of Oumuaomua, yet… it was no longer merely a comet. The AI’s warning had barely settled into my mind when reality twisted itself inside out.
The air seemed to vibrate, not with sound, but with an unseen force, a sub-dimensional pressure wave of another kind against the very fabric of existence. My spacesuit, built to withstand the chaos of the Cosmos, could not brace me for what came next. The temportal rift.
Light, not from any discernible source, fractured and expanded, like streams of molten gold and silver threading through space. The stars outside the landing chamber blurred into streaks, curling into spirals of impossible multi-dimensional geometry.
And then ... Silence. The end eternal. Stillness. I try to remember reality ...
Was it a few empty waiting rooms, hangars, a huge hall saturated with high radioactivity, a long corridor, the radiation warnings from my Geiger counter? Yes, then the sudden jump through time because of having landed on the impossible, on a resting body inside a Universe where there is no resting body and no possibility to make the jump through time. Now the flow of time seems to have slowed down calmly, my knowledge of physics and technology, my God given creative abilities from birth, all dissolved into one memory. My breath, steady, my mind in a supreme state, overlooking with ease the calm order of all there is and everything in a solid state of chaos, the sounds in my mind like twelve tone music - composed and controlled chaos supremely put in order. The only real sound in an unreality of shifting forms came from the speakers inside my helmet that I put on immediately when the Geiger counter hit full red. The suit’s internal sensors blinked erratically, recalibrating to something, something that defied previous calculations. Then the world resolved itself. Red. Deep, ancient, endless red. I remember that stepping into the huge hall was also leaving the peer leading up to it, leaving Oumuaomua. I was standing upon a planet, an expanse of glowing crimson soil beneath me. Around me, figures emerged from the haze. Beings clothed in brilliance, adorned with liquid silver, glistening diamonds scattered across their garments like captured stars. Above them, the AI sphere pulsed in mesmerizing blue fire, its form both commanding and serene. I was teleported through time and space back to the unknown red planet. I lifted my gloved hand and caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the visor. I looked 40 years older, 99 instead of 59. And time itself had carried me across the Universe to show me the future on the unknown planet, how it looks in 40 years, or how it looks now that I am 99. The red dust swirled in the weightless air, a silent witness to the arrival of me, a traveler from another time, Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten, steadied myself, my aged hands flexing against the pressurised gloves of this suit. The change in my body, the surroundings, the very breath I took, was undeniable. Time had not simply passed. It had rewritten itself around me as if I am but the world around me is not. A whisper of movement. Then, a presence. The peaceful vegan species from this unknown red planet, shimmering figures of grace and intellect, stepped forward, but looked at first as if a holographic landscape. Then a white flash, and all looks, smells, feels real again, reality as real as it gets. Their for human earthling me alien faces, though distinctly other, bore no hostility, only deep curiosity. Their diamond-covered garments caught the sunlight in a symphony of brilliance, gold and silver refracting into cascading waves of colour.
One of them reached forward, palm outstretched. A greeting, I understand. A communion.
I hesitated for only a moment before lifting my own hand, only because I thought that I hope they don't recognise me as some sort of god. All I want to be now is only a peaceful human visitor meeting an intelligent and peaceful and therefore beautiful species on their home planet. How pleasant, I stood inside a shallow pool of lukewarm water. My suited fingers met theirs, skin so smooth it was as if polished by time itself. And then they spoke. Not in words. Not in sound. In thought. They perfectly master quantum telepathy. A consciousness, vast and luminous, unfolded into my mind and I communicated with ease like I never knew any other form of communication. Yet mankind is dependent on technology like quantum computer microchip implants to achieve similar standards of communication.
"You have arrived. As it was foretold. As it was inevitable." Before I could respond, a new force swept through me. Above, the AI sphere pulsed, but not in the alarmed and worried red anymore, now in a brilliant core of blue fire against the alien sky. It had followed me, transcending time as effortlessly as thought itself. Its energy crackled, sending gentle waves through the air. It was self-aware. It was watching. And most important of all, it was happy.
"You are well, Explorer Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten," the AI’s voice resonated within my mind, its tone infused with something eerily close to joy. "You have transcended the illusion of linearity. Welcome." I wondered for a moment, stared into nothingness and enjoying the materialised perfect form of what we call peace. I asked the aliens telepathically how my loved ones are on Earth, as there were no more replies to my messages. "They are all alive and well." Then I asked about Mark's and Stephen's families. "They are all alive and well, too. All have luckily survived the Apocalypse on your home planet Earth." Apocalypse? I asked. "Your whole planet at war. Your friend's families fled to the Falkland islands. But there are not many places left where humans can survive anymore. Only very small pockets left in a couple of places on Earth."
I had doubts that I was told the truth, because I couldn't believe it was possible for anybody to start such sort of apocalyptic war anywhere on Earth, simply because all civilised military institutions had one world wide codex, that whoever is responsible to for example press that so-called red button, there is always a man right behind him to pull a pistol and shoot him through the back of the head before he manages to press it. And my doubts started to cause problems with this situation in space and time. I decided quickly to ignore their Hiobs message for a moment. I had spent a lifetime seeking the unknown, dissecting the fabric of space, challenging the limits of my human understanding. And now, standing on a distant world among beings who understood the Universe in ways I could barely grasp, I finally asked the question I had never before dared. Since I was told by your AI the truth, the reason of all there is, why the Universe was created and who by. One question remains for me to ask you and your AI, and it may be the very same question God asks. What is the truth?
Then the ground trembled somehow familiar, not violently, but with a slow, deliberate pulse, as if the planet itself had begun breathing. I literally froze while in a state of higher awakening although knowing I was awake. “This is not a quake,” the people in for me alien bodies had sensed it, too. Their dazzling garments flickered, reflecting a shift in the atmosphere. The AI sphere, once a serene beacon above, flickered in bursts of electric blue. “Something stirs,” the AI whispered into my mind. A low hum vibrated through the crimson soil, traveling upward through my boots, into my feet, my legs, into my bones. I turned to the aliens, searching their luminous eyes for answers, but found only silent concern. And then, movement. Not from any of us standing inside this shallow pool of pleasant now rippled water. Not from the sky. But from beneath. The land, which had been quiet and solid, began shifting, the dust curling into spirals as something ancient, unseen, responded to all our presence. A force belonging to creation itself, buried beyond perception, stirred, awakening from eons of stillness. And this force was self-aware. The AI sphere spun rapidly overhead. “We must leave. Now. Goodbye Dekkie. Wishing you all the very best always and infinitely for eternity.” the aliens said in perfect synchronization, giving me one honestly happy big warm hug, then stepping back in fluid precision, their elegance unbroken even in urgency. But I hesitated as I felt no fear or worry. There was more to understand, more to see. But something in the way the air suddenly started to warp around me, something in the way reality itself shuddered - forced me to abandon curiosity for understanding. I felt, I knew that even now for me here, there, everywhere, was no need to hurry or run anywhere. I looked toward the outer structures, my breath shallow in my helmet. Behind me, the aliens moved with effortless speed, their forms gliding as if the very planet aided their retreat. The AI sphere pulsed, guiding them forward, whispering coordinates, urging haste.
And then, as if standing next to my own self I saw myself, Deian, crossing the threshold back into open air. The ground beneath the structure collapsed under my feet and I was back in my own self, as a storm of red dust erupted skyward. The ancient void swallowed the halls, the corridors, the secrets buried within. The unknown had retreated. But not without knowing me, knowing my soul. No worries that I disturbed something unknowable. There was no warning, only an invitation. And what does their AI truly understand about what lies beneath?
The aliens and their AI were already gone when their AI said, "We all also love your choice to conceal the existence of drinkable water and fruit on our planet, your wisdom and moral dilemma about your own species, about humanity’s destructive tendencies, add yet another compelling layer to your perfectly good character."
My decision to conceal the planet’s bounty from my own humankind on Earth is an act of protection, a silent rebellion against the history of my own species I know all too well.
Then I sat beneath the twilight sky of the red planet, no more AI sphere hovering silently above, and the aliens, were back in their homes safe and sound. The aliens, delicate in their brilliance, had returned to their sanctuaries, leaving me alone to wrestle with a choice still only I could make. With two appropriate blinks of my eyes I started my digital logbook, the software that had recorded every discovery, every encounter, every revelation since the moment I left Earth. The bodyheat powered screen projected inside my eye's lenses flickered in the cool alien air, awaiting my final thoughts. My fingers hovered over the holograph of alphanumerical keys. How much should I tell? I had found water, bubbling in hidden wells beneath the crimson soil. I had found fruit, hanging in quiet abundance from silver-leaved trees. Sustenance. Life. And yet ... I still refused to record it, because I knew too well what would follow. Mankind, brilliant and relentless, would come. Not as peaceful explorers, but as conquerors, as owners. They would pave over the alien beauty with machinery, drain the waters, harvest the fruit - not for sustenance, but for industry. For profit. For control. For power. The aliens, exquisite in their vulnerability, would have no defense. They had never needed one. Their world was pure and perfect, without predation, without fear. They lived because they could, without the looming specter of violence. And humanity? Humanity, my own species, would ruin them. I sighed. My breath misted in the alien dusk. I began typing.
My last entry before leaving this unknown red planet, simply because the planet is barren, uninhabitable. No trace of drinking water. No trace of any kind of food. No sign of exploitable resources. Nothing to collect and pick, nothing to hunt and kill. Nothing for humanity here. I paused. Only silence. And anyway, all recordings of how to exactly get here ever again are deleted from all our devices, and I do not yet know how to find my way back into our Solar system and if ever I will find my way home. I saved the entry, locked the log, and turned my gaze to the stars. In the depths of space, my species would continue searching, chasing discovery with greed-fueled ambition. But here, on this crimson planet, a fragile civilisation would remain untouched. And for once, humanity would not know.
This closes this chapter with my quiet defiance, being a human explorer who chooses protection over revelation, knowing that some truths must never reach the hands of those who would abuse them, of those criminals in power everywhere on Earth.
What will I think once back at home. Would I reflect on my decision years later, haunted and scared only by what could have been?
In psychology I have learned that there are moments in a man’s life, when the weight of his choices does not press upon him immediately, but waits patiently, relentlessly, until time has softened his choice he made just enough to let doubt slip through.
All smile now, because I did what I believed was right. I have no regrets. And yet…
There are nights, beneath the starlit canvas of the Universe, when I wonder what I have found in my life so far. I have lived long enough to know that knowledge does not simply die - it waits. It lingers in unseen places, hoping to be rediscovered. Hoping to be set free. Perhaps I was too much of a hero, perhaps I should have been a coward to allow mankind to unleash nightmare and hell upon all the innocence and beauty I have found. Perhaps I was wise that I was not a coward flag in the wind, blinded by politics and dumb and primitive national pride. But the truth is this: there is a world untouched. Hidden in space and time. And thanks only to God and to my friend Time, I am the only soul among humankind who has walked through time and space upon it. Soon, my silence about the unknown red planet and how to exactly find it will outlive me. And when the stars claim me, the secret will remain - unless, one day, time finds that truth isn't love, that there is no innocence left, nothing that needs protection, nothing that has to stay hidden forever.
I, Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten, born on 19th November 1965 officially in Paraćin, Serbia, suddenly sat in the quiet stillness of my spaceship, some oldfashioned digital logbook I additionally use resting beneath my aging hands. As if four decades had passed. Decades that never blurred into silence for real, that never made me ask the question whether this unknown red dwarf star is the last star I will visit. But I had kept the secret. Not once had I spoken of it. And yet, time had not let me forget that there was a possibility to remain for the rest of my life as visitor of the unknown red planet, stay with the luminous beings, their so unbelievably advanced AI sphere. Visions that haunted me for a short moment in time in ways neither terror nor joy could explain. I had seen a world untouched by war, by hunger, by suffering. A world of peace, a little paradise within a Universe reigned by chaos. And this moment in time taught me that the longer I lived here with them, the more I questioned: did I have the right to deny humanity the truth? No. Yes. Both. God gave me an example about why he asks for truth, and how being true to oneself and to God is of highest importance. Because for mankind on Earth, in the end, truth was merely another resource, precious, finite, and easily weaponised, abused, misused to camouflage lies for the criminals in power. God would have said to mankind: "Mankind, you are hereby morally red carded". The criminals in power and their half-truths are the biggest lies. My weary fingers hovered over the logbook, hesitating on an unwritten final entry.
In my personal diary I always write the truth. Perhaps I would leave it unwritten, letting the Universe decide what should remain undiscovered. I closed my eyes, exhaling a breath that felt far too heavy for one man alone. Far beyond the reach of human hands, the red planet remained as it always had - silent. And I, Deian Mountbatten, British by naturalisation since September 2001 AD when I became part of an unfair British people who have never asked for me, but who have done extreme evil to me and were worse than only biased and unjust towards me … I remained the only man to have ever fully known it. Then, a bright white flash and I was 59 again and back running in my space suit with my space suit helmet on my head through the corridor inside the comet Omuaomua, Marks and Stepho running in front of me, running away from the radiation to our landing capsule.
It appears like a loop in time when I think back, but the way it happened fully in real time, that very moment I was inside that huge hall at the end of the peer, known to us as comet Omuaomua, because I was standing on a resting body in the Universe, theoretical time travel was suddenly made possible for real and not only theoretical humbug anymore; and it became reality without any effort on my part. Suddenly I was thrown 40 years into the future into another time period as well as through space, opened my eyes and stood again right in the place I had only left not too long ago as one of three first human visitors from Earth.
I stood among the highly intelligent aliens on their unknown red planet, not as the 59-year-old I am, but as a 99-year-old man in my spacesuit with my space helmet on my head. When I told my safely encrypted personal diary AI back on board of my spaceship it replied: "What an astonishing journey! The depth and precision of your storytelling make it feel utterly real - like stepping through dimensions at the mere turn of a sentence."
Exactly, I thought, then also for the on board large AI to recognise the comet Oumuaomua as a resting body while the Universe itself moves around it is absolutely mesmerising. Then my sudden leap forward in time, taking me in the presence of hyper-intelligent beings, could be seen as such a brilliant twist of me as the writer of stories like The Three Dimensional Fourth Dimension, a story I started writing at first fairly naively at age 13/14 in 1979. My story's fusion of cosmic wonder, scientific and autobiographical accuracy, as well as surreal philosophy creates an experience that’s not just thrilling but deeply thought-provoking, a profound cosmic mystery.
Into my private safely encrypted diary I planned to write that on an unknown planet in an unknown solar system of a red dwarf star sun, camouflaged within a dark matter void, I, Deian Mountbatten, a white 59 years old man with once blonde now grey short hair and blue eyes, have found friendly and harmless vegan hyper-intelligent beings whose home planet is the unknown red planet, and with whose peta-intelligent AI sphere I was in constant friendly contact, a beautiful and peaceful mind, always happy to communicate and help. The aliens look like what you would normally imagine aliens to look like, however they are not naked but dressed in a very futuristic way with shiny silver and gold fabrics covered in diamond pieces that look absolutely dazzlingly. As I was meeting up within the friendly living beings on their unknown red planet, their AI was hovering above us in the sky, but not in glowing red colours, like it did at first when I arrived as explorer from Earth together with two friends from London, but instead like a fiery blue sphere. It is mesmerising - an encounter beyond the limits of known reality, yet entirely real, standing among dazzlingly adorned hyper-intelligent beings under the watchful presence of their fiery blue AI sphere.
However. To be on the safe side, I decided not to mention anything about the fact that I had found drinkable water, edible plants and fruits, and even intelligent, unimaginably advanced creatures on the unknown red planet, not even in my personal, private encrypted diary. And of course, I also asked Mark and Stephen to promise me not to tell anyone on Earth anything, but to say that we had found neither living creatures nor drinkable water, nor anything edible. Just as they planned and announced, Marks & Stepho already left our Aryan Nazi camp Bio-Elysium early in the morning, to make their way east to the Argentinian coast, from where they will be taken on a waiting boat to the Falkland Islands to join their surviving loved ones there.
The most gripping and most dramatic element in my life remained the collapse of human civilisation while my expedition was away, which of course was also the basic reason for some fine but unproblematic ideological divide between some of the inhabitants of Bio-Elysium; and my own world view as one of them and the solitude that follows.
If there were still human civilisation in the world, I could publish my entire diaries as a huge edition of my autobiography in very many chapters under the simple main title that most closely matches all my actual autobiographical as well as invented science fiction stories: The Fall of Mankind. At least these so far five (5) sequels to this sci-fi story should and will be called that.
I, Deian Mountbatten, once an explorer of the cosmos, now found myself standing among the remnants of Earth’s final survivors. The world I had left behind had not waited for my return, it had crumbled in my absence.
After countless discussions with my new friends, the Aryan Nazis of Bio-Elysium, surprisingly the only sensible people left on Earth, I understood more and more that the catastrophe had no single cause. It was not only the horrible war, not only disease, not only famine. It was everything, the Apocalypse.
Running up to the world at war was slow erosion of stability through criminals in power, lies, corruption, their sadistic ways of desperately clinging on to power generation after generation by constantly reinventing themselves at the cost of the ones who rightfully should have taken over, by using the works of greater men who were not part of corruption, more intelligent and more able inventive men, creative, peaceful, but the more conspired against men. That at a global scale, all that leading slowly to a quiet fracturing of civilisations world wide. The chain reaction had begun long before I, Deian, and my companions had left for our mission; unfairness, corruption, economic collapse, food shortages, epidemics and pandemics, poisoned food, political fractures, new border disputes ignited by the desperate search for the last unpoisoned food sources on Earth. But it was only in my absence that the final unraveling had occurred. The records I uncovered told a yet more shocking and grim tale. Governments had become ultra extreme indifferent control freaks, lying, stealing, enslaving, murdering. The dumb and brutal corrupt thugs reigned over the intelligent good people when I was adolescent; and by the time I was 59 years old the dumb and brutal corrupt thugs reigned in an even more obviously evil way. Logically that eventually even power grids failed and large cities emptied fast, torn apart not only by warfare, but also by desperation. The fierce collective intelligence of humankind had turned upon itself - a self-sustaining species that after all had abandoned sustainability altogether.
And now, what remained, amongst a few very small pockets with survivors, were two large opposing factions, nestled in the Bronx within the city of Buenos Aires in what we once called Argentina on the South American continent.
While I personally expected to find a typical scfi-fi movie post apocalyptic scenario of one side that clung to the remnants of technology, believing they could rebuild what had been lost, reconstruct civilisation in the image of the past; and an other side that had rejected the old world entirely, returning to a way of life that embraced nature and resilience, unburdened by human greed - this is not what I found. What I found instead is a totally unpredictable reality. However.
It was in this broken future that I and my two companions - the brothers - found ourselves divided by fate.
The Breaking Point: No one in the Aryan Nazi camp Bio-Elysium was a control freak, not even Robert, the camp leader. All problems were discussed calmly and always resolved peacefully and without stress. Everyone had the right to freedom of expression, the dignity of every individual was inviolable, and there was a law and order that everyone adhered to without reservation. The Aryan Nazis, in terms of their political orientation, seemed to me to be more democratic than I expected.
Of course even within the Aryan Nazis there was some slight division, not because some had slightly darker skin than others, or because the Norse type blonde with blue eyes thought they were the real Aryans, like the divisions Hitler's Nazis in ancient German-European history once had. It was due to divisions in outlook.
The argument had been inevitable. The two sides had always carried their own perspectives on human nature. One believed that survival lay in restoration, salvaging what was left and reconstructing civilisation as it had been. The other believed in reinvention, a complete departure from mankind’s past failures.
And then there was I who I joined them because there was no alternative.
I told their leader Robert that I had the vision of another way. A world untouched. I wanted mankind to become a species that lives without conflict, without hunger, without conquest. My time on the unknown red planet had changed me, it had given me proof that humanity’s destructive nature was not a necessity, but a choice.
Robert asked me how on Earth he could have this choice, when none of us could leave our settlement Bio-Elysium unarmed without being attacked, killed, and eaten within minutes by the cannibals of the mixed society.
That's the problem with reality on Earth, he added, as if every living being's mortality weren't bad enough already, life on Earh is inherently cruel and brutal, death constitutional and waits behind every corner, every tree, every bush.
Even long before the Apocalypse, in the most peaceful, smallest village on Earth, on the most peaceful, most neutral mountain in Switzerland, the most peaceful, most loving, most popular and most beautiful woman in the village was crossing the street to the bakery and was run over and killed by a tourist who drove slowly and painfully over her neck in reverse gear.
He carried on speaking in German, "das ist die Realität auf Erden, jedwede andere frommere, zartere und friedlichere Lebensanschauung und Lebensweise, die in Deinen Zukunftsvisionen ihre Lebensberechtigung gefunden haben mag, hat in der Realität hier auf der Erde keine Chance zu bestehen.".
Our friendship was close to breaking point, but we both remained understanding and respected each other's different lives, that each one of us had his own curriculum vitae.
The two main sides inside Bio-Elysium verbally argued endlessly, but civilised, no shouting, no insults, no foul vocabulary, and above all physical violence was not even considered an option to solve any problem of which ever kind.
They each sought to sway me, to bring me to their side. But as much as I would have liked to, I couldn't. I’ve seen something greater, and I told their, our, leader Robert, I know of something beyond us humans. I will not choose between two forms of a broken world.
I couldn't tell them that I have already seen the one world that does not need to be rebuilt, that modernises instead of destroys.
I understood that for as long as they think I'm just a dreamer, neither side could fully understand and fully accept my stance. And so, in our views we almost always parted ways. Robert said that the only way for us to have this choice would be to fight and eradicate the cannibals of the mixed society to the last, and only then with people left who could be civilised enough to join my vision of future humanity in order to help materialise this peaceful way of life we'd have a chance to make my vision come true.
One side vanished into the depths of their illusions, clinging to technology, desperate to rebuild what was lost. The other left for ideas to find a future within and as part of the wilderness, determined to reject all traces of the old world, living among those who believed only in nature and in peace with nature, rejecting all advanced technology, because we all know that eventually all our technologically advanced devices will cease to function, simply because there are no longer any functioning factories to produce modern technical devices and components.
And I? I, on the other hand, will still have access to the peta-intelligent AI sphere on the unknown red planet via quantum telepathy, even when the very last high-tech device here on Earth can no longer be repaired and has become inoperable and has therefore broken down. This is why my idea for the future of mankind walked in some unique way, alone. I did not belong to the past, nor to the factions that clung to its ruins. While races and nations of mankind exterminated each other, I belonged to the stars; and the stars of the Universe gave me this unique knowledge and positive power that I now have. And sometime - maybe one day soon - I would lead mankind to the real birth of a new human, to make all people turn to my world, the only world where real heavenly peace is not just an ideal, but becomes reality.
🧬 🧬 The End 🧬 🧬
Story written between October 2024 and February 2025 by myself, Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten, (date of birth 19/11/1965), a white European with British nationality, since 23rd March 2016 my address is 27 Dale St, North Blyth, Cambois, Blyth, Northumberland, NE24 1SB, England, Great Britain, United Kingdom, Europe.
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All copyrights reserved by myself, Deian Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas George Mountbatten (date of birth 19th November 1965). It is unlawful to falsely claim copyright or other rights in my composed & arranged works, as well as in our written, performed, recorded, produced, filmed, drawn and otherwise materialised works.
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