| Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2 |
Clavia taught Echo...well, seemingly literally everything. She explained how
the universe works, why it exists, and who exists in it. She told him about
the people who were in charge, and those who simply lived their lives the
best they could, ultimately having little impact on the events that
unfolded. He was particularly taken in by her lesson on something called The
Illusion of Self-Divinity Hypothesis. The theory seeks to understand why
people conjure religious and spiritual concepts that go against scientific
principles, and are very obviously untrue. They believe in God—or some kind
of divine force—in order to establish themselves as the true source of power
in a cold and indifferent universe. Science is true. Of course, it’s true,
but it’s just as irrelevant as anything else that conscious beings come up
with. Whatever is true about how reality works is true whether people
understand it or not, or accept it...or, indeed, even if no one is around to
contemplate the truth. They have no control over this, and that is a
frightening idea.
If people have no impact on the grander truth of reality, what is the point
in living? Their existence is insignificant. Humanity as a whole appears to
be just as meaningless, so why continue? To protect themselves from this
particular hard truth, they come up with tenets of the divine. Many
philosophers have postulated that humans do this because they take comfort
in the supposed meaningfulness of existence, and that’s probably true as
well. But the core of these religious thoughts comes from the individual’s
psychological need to hold power. Believers of a given religious school may
all believe in basically the same thing. They have the same idea of the
divine being, and that this being created them and the universe for some
sort of reason. But each individual can come up with their own particular
set of sub-tenets. This is important on its own, but their ability to shift
their personal tenets at will is what’s key here.
If humans invented God, then humans must be more powerful than God.
Since no version of God truly exists, the divine being’s power is wholly
within the headcanon of the individual. This effectively serves to make the
believer the god-being themselves. They can change their minds about the
underlying rules of what they believe to be an ordered universe. Clavia
seems to believe this one lesson to be particularly important as they talk
about it at least a little every day. Their education lasts for years, all
the while, the mysterious second wave of visitors or invaders keeps heading
in this direction. She starts to regain some of the special power and
knowledge that she had before, but she still can’t explain what’s taking
them so long. Or she won’t. Echo decides that he’s going to be okay with
this. She’s entitled to her secrets, just as she respects him with his. They
spend most of the time in the dreamscapes that she constructs, so they can
explore the inner workings of the universe through real examples. Today, all
that apparently ends. She’s decided that he’s ready to graduate. They’re
doing it in base reality.
Echo stands there on the top of the hill, looking down at the ground below
them. He’s meant to picture an audience, but it’s not working. Well, of
course it isn’t working. It’s not like he can just magically summon people
for real. But his imagination, it’s just not very good. There’s no way to
know if he was born like that, or if his upbringing resulted in the deficit.
Really, it just makes him sad. He’s proud of himself, and he wants people to
see it. He just wants to see people in general. Clavia’s simulations aren’t
real. He wants real. The audience materializes.
Dozens of chairs suddenly appear on the ground, and a few seconds later,
they’re all filled. At first, he starts to wonder if this is Clavia’s doing.
She promised to always make him aware when they’re in a shared dream, but
she doesn’t necessarily have to keep that promise. She’s fully
capable of tricking him. But he doesn’t think that’s what this is. The
people in the seats, they’re confused. Clavia’s a little confused too, but
not panicking. She puts the tablet where she was tweaking her speech away,
and stands back up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know that you’re quite
perplexed, but I assure you that you are entirely safe. If you will just
bear with us, all will be explained.”
“Did I do this?” Echo asks her in a whisper.
“Of course you did, dear. You’ve always been able to do this.” That can’t be
true. Clavia walks over to the wooden podium. “Thank you for coming to the
first annual School of Clavia Graduation Ceremony. The Class of 2500 may be
small, but he is mighty, and I hope all of you will welcome him into the
Sixth Key with open arms. As he is our only student, Mr. Cloudbearer is
valedictorian by default, but make no mistake, he would have earned this
spot either way. In a group of a hundred trillion, I have no doubt that he
would still be sitting up here with me today, preparing to give a speech.”
Echo stands up to whisper to her again. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“I told you to prepare a speech,” she reminds him.
“Yes, but I always thought I would be giving it to the wind. Now that there
are people to hear me, I don’t know if what I wrote down is right.”
“Just speak from the heart,” she says. It’s a cliché, but reasonable advice.
“Okay.” He’s still nervous, but determined. At least he’s determined to be
determined, if that makes any sense. He’s about to sit back down so Clavia
can finish her introduction, but she points to the podium with both hands,
indicating that she already is. So he steps up to it.
“You got this,” Clavia encourages as she’s sitting back down.
He looks out at the crowd before him. Some of them are still confused, but
they’re intrigued more than anything. It seems harmless enough; a graduation
ceremony. No one has tried to run away or attack them, or even stand to
question. He’s gonna be okay. This is gonna work out. “I was born alone.”
Wait, that’s not what was in his notes. “I did not have parents.” That isn’t
true at all. “I didn’t even have a planet.” That’s really not true. They’re
standing on it right now. “I had to create it myself out of random scattered
atoms in the void. I don’t know how I did this. I just knew that I had to. I
had to...make form. My consciousness was floating in the nothingness for who
knows how long. Still, even with two arms, two legs, I was alone. I conjured
new lifeforms in my imagination. They cared for me, and taught me how to
live. But it was really just me. I know everything. I know...everything.” He
points to someone in the front row. “You may look like Leona Delaney, but
you are Arcadia Preston. How would you like to feel like yourself again?”
With a wave on his hand, she transforms into someone new. The man next to
her is stunned, but pleased. It’s her husband, Vearden Haywood.
“I am the divine manifestation of your reality,” Echo goes on. “You have
been chosen to come here and bear witness to the rise of my power. You live
in different parts of the galaxy, and originate from each of the five
original parallel realities. I will send you back to where you belong, and
you will tell of my grandeur. You will warn the leaders of your society that
they are nothing compared to me. You will halt all wars, and cleanse
yourselves of all hate. You follow me now.” He pauses for effect, and
it’s enough time to get himself out of the trance, if only for a little
while. Who is this man, resonating Echo’s vocal cords, and flapping his
lips? He is no powerful divine entity. He’s just Echo Cloudbearer; a simple
man leading a simple life on the outskirts of civilization. None of what
he’s saying is true, and it’s certainly not right. He turns his head to look
at Clavia. She’s smirking. Or is it more of a grimace? He didn’t do well
with his emotion detection tests. He might not be cut out as valedictorian
after all.
Clavia gestures for him to continue.
His darker self is trying to take back over. The real Echo can’t stop it.
He’s not strong enough. He didn’t know that he needed to fight. Clavia never
taught him. He studies her face one last time before his chin forces itself
away. She’s quite happy. This was her plan all along. She was never teaching
Echo anything. She was fostering this other evil force. She was turning him
into this. He lets go. “I am the man who invented God, and became God. There
is no truth beyond what I make it. There is no will outside of mine. I am
all that exists, and you are all still alive...because I deem it so. Please
know that I ask this with absolutely no sincerity.” He takes another
dramatic pause, but Echo’s good soul is too weak to break free this time,
and resume control of the body. It’s over. “Are there any questions?”
There’s an explosion in the back. Over a dozen people appear out of the
spacetime tears, and reassemble themselves into solid beings. He doesn’t
recognize any of them, except for one. She looks exactly like Clavia. She
doesn’t stand there with the same air of self-importance, though, and she
doesn’t appear to be the leader. Someone else steps forward. “My name is
Hogarth Pudeyonavic. I am here to negotiate for the freedom of the citizens
of the Sixth Key. My first demand is that you release the prisoners.”
“They’re not my prisoners,” Echo insists. “They’re my audience.”
Hogarth holds firm. “If you do not send them back to where they belong
safely, I will do it myself, and send you somewhere not so safe.”
“It’s okay,” Clavia decides, placing her hand upon Echo’s shoulder. “We
don’t need them anymore.”
“What did you do to me?” Perhaps the good part of Echo does remain.
“I helped you come out of your shell,” she replied. This is the real Echo.
Everything you told these people is true. I’ve shown you. You just need to
put the pieces together.”
Echo turns his head forwards again. While he’s contemplating Clavia’s claim,
he waves his hand again, and spirits the audience away. The exploding
invaders are all that’s left, but he’s not paying them any intention. He’s
going back over his lessons. He’s rewatching the Big Bang, the coalescence
of Earth in the Sol System, the splitting of reality, the Reconvergence, and
the consolidation of the former peoples of these realities. That’s
not it. That’s not what she’s talking about. It’s something else. Something
small. No, someone small. She’s curled up in the middle of nothing,
trapped in the space between spaces. She’s trying to find a way out, and
back home to her friends, but growing frustrated. She shouts. Energy flows
out of her, and into the void. Within the cloud of infrasubatomic dust, a
galaxy takes shape. It’s small, but only from this perspective. Hundreds of
billions of stars, waiting to be populated by the refugees. It’s the Sixth
Key, and above it, its creator. Olimpia Sangster. He wasn’t born alone. She
is his mother. And he has to find her. He scowls at Clavia.
“Oh, shit,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.” This asshole tree is goin’
down.
No comments :
Post a Comment