Showing posts with label ocean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ocean. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Microstory 2692: Little Orphan, Vith

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Ronan and Mayumi, along with the rest of the players who came up with them, start taking stock of their supplies. It isn’t much, but the fruit could float, so that’s great. It is under someone else’s control, though. Most everyone has something which they are still holding onto for dear life, even though the storm is over, and they are out of the water. The two of them have the door. It’s large and heavy; not something that belongs on a ship. Ronan’s best guess is that someone somewhere on Danmörk commissioned it from some other region, and had it shipped there. If the players were supposedly on that ship, it would have likely been carrying other supplies that didn’t belong to them. They didn’t really know the story, though. The Custodians didn’t tell them that that would happen at all. And even if the story goes that someone did buy this door, they would probably be an NPC who isn’t looking for it at all, because it isn’t real. Even if they are, they’re not liable to find it. That’s their justification for keeping it. When they finally build their home somewhere around here, they’ll hook this door to it. They’ve earned it.
They’re not sure where they’re gonna go, though. Should they stay close by, or is this where all players begin their journeys? If that’s the case, it’s not a good place to start a life. At some point, they want to all but forget the way things were. If every time they try to immerse themselves in the lifestyle, someone new shows up who isn’t used to not talking about spaceships and computers, it’s going to ruin the experience. Ronan is not even sure if they want to stay close to anyone who is here right now. Yes, there is safety in numbers, but they can trust none of these people to have any honor. Who are their characters meant to be? They have already met a thief, who has been avoiding them, probably believing that Ronan might retaliate. He won’t. That’s not in Ronan’s character, but the thief doesn’t know that, and neither does anyone else.
Having possessions means someone might take them from you, but it also signals that you’re less likely to try to take from others, and that’s a valuable state to be in. Today, they’re in shock, and still full from a breakfast that took almost no effort to procure. Tomorrow, they will be hungry, and could descend into madness quite quickly. That’s why technology breeds civility. There is no need to act like an animal when a food synthesizer can print you anything you want in minutes. But here? There are no rules, and it’s about to get nasty. That’s why Ronan and Mayumi signed up. But they’re not idiots. They know they need to protect themselves. That probably means forging their own path. Once they start building their wealth, they will start to need to defend it, but they will also be able to, and they will feel more comfortable around others because of that. So Ronan picks up the door, and uses it as an umbrella for the both of them while they head into the woods to look for a private place to settle. It will be miles away.
“Wait, can I come with you?” It’s the little orphan Ronan saved from the deep.
“What’s your name, boy?” Mayumi asks him.
“It’s Vith, son of unknown.”
She giggles, and reaches out her hand. “Come on, Vith. You can help me look out for berries. Don’t eat anything, though. It might not be edible.”
“May,” Ronan argues, “we cannot keep him. You already have one on the way.”
“I’m not going to leave him to starve to death on the shore. I believe we were brought together for a reason. He stays.”
He stays. Then nine months pass.

Monday, June 15, 2026

Microstory 2691: Mettle

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Ronan and Mayumi are at the entrance, waiting for the elevator to lift up to the surface of their first dome. He’s staring at the screen, which is playing footage of the Nordome Network, as if they’ve not already bought into the adventure. He’s not paying attention to the video itself, but the fact that it’s on a screen. They weren’t invented until the 19th or 20th centuries. That seems like so long ago, and they’re jumping so much further into the past than that. But he’s not really thinking about that either. He’s thinking about that screen; about how it’s the last one he’ll ever see for decades. His character is 29 years old, and Mayumi was made to look about 18. Historically, she probably would have been younger, but there are limits to how authentic they’re going to be. This is wild west of the Charter Cloud. Castlebourne’s laws don’t care how old someone appears to be, as long as the totality of their experiences make them an adult. He’s never heard of any substrate-play which—he doesn’t want to think about it. They’re both adults. Their characters have been married for a year. She’s pregnant. That screen.
They’re sitting here with a couple dozen other people who are entering the simulation at the same time. The walls are gray and metallic in a very rustic way, almost like their means of bridging the gap between the modern era, and the Viking Age. Or maybe it’s just a cheap way to build since all this thing has to do is take you up to a forest that’s meant to look like one you would find in Danmörk on Earth. As he’s still watching that screen, getting a little bit of cold feet, Ronan starts to realize that the only reason the metaphor is creeping into his mind is because of what’s actually happening to his feet. At first, he thinks someone spilled their water, but then he sees that there’s way too much of it. The walls are leaking, and the pod is filling up fast. Others have noticed as well, and start to get worried. There are rules about what your substrate has to be. You can’t come in here as a condor, or have advanced physical traits, like the kind of strength a true Norsemen wouldn’t have ever been physically capable of achieving. And you can’t have gills. His and Mayumi’s consciousnesses are still streaming to the remote servers, and he suspects everyone else’s is too, but they still don’t want to die.
They’re floating now, the water is so deep. People are trying to find some kind of emergency hatch, or a way to contact help. Ronan looks over. The display is still showing the hype video, but it’s starting to shutter and shake. The lights are flickering, they’re about to die. Something bad must be happening on the surface, like a simulated hurricane so powerful that it’s breaking the fourth wall, and literally leaking into the infrastructure of the dome. All four walls suddenly separate from each other and fall away. The rest of the water rushes in so they’re fully submerged. He finds Mayumi, and holds her close to his chest as he looks up. There’s a light, filtering through the water, showing their way to escape. They kick their legs and breach. Ah, their supplies. Some of it is floating around, but some of it isn’t buoyant. The ocean floor isn’t too far away. He might still be able to reach it. “I’m going down for the tools!”
“Okay!” She yells. It is storming, though it’s probably not a hurricane. Splintered slabs of wood are scattered about, which weren’t in the elevator. It’s a shipwreck.
Ronan takes a deep breath, and dives back down. As he’s searching for their tool basket, he spots the elevator pod. The walls are coming back together as it’s dropping back down into the shaft. This is obviously not anywhere close to being an accident. The Custodians set up an elaborate way to introduce them to the world of the Norsemen, and they did it in spectacularly terrible fashion. He absolutely loves it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to go back up there with nothing. He spots the basket, so he adjusts his heading, and goes for it. Someone else reaches it first. The stranger starts picking up the tools that fell out, and putting them back. Ronan is about to fight him for it, because that’s what a Viking would do, but then he sees something else. A young man is drifting around. His eyes are closed. He’s clean-shaven, wearing farmer’s clothing.
Ronan can’t vie for the tools and save the boy too. He doesn’t know who this is, but if he’s half as enthusiastic about this simulation as Ronan and Mayumi is, he wouldn’t want to die on his first day. Would they let him back in? Is there a waiting period for screwing up this badly this early? Plus, Ronan isn’t even sure that he’ll survive at all. You do not have to be immortal to come here. You have to sign a bunch of waivers, just like Mayumi did with baby Talus, but they will let you in if you really want to test your mettle. Yeah, he has to save this guy. He adjusts his heading slightly once more, and reaches the kid. He takes him by the underarms, and swims them both up.
“Ronan!” he hears Mayumi call. “Ronan, over here!” She’s holding onto a big wooden door. The guy who stole their tools is trying to find refuge on it too. “Get the hell off!” she demands, physically pushing him away. She wasn’t even there when he stole from them, but she has ver good instincts.
Ronan drags the victim over to the door, and together, they lift him onto it. Okay, back then, no one in the world had any clue how to perform CPR, but Ronan has his own rules and limits. He’s not going to compromise his integrity for what essentially boils down to a game. He went down there, and pulled this guy up, so he’s going to get the water out of his lungs, and make him breathe again, even if it’s not historically accurate. While Mayumi steadies the door, Ronan presses on the victim’s chest, and provides rescue breaths. He only does it for a few minutes, and never needs to take a break.
The boy lives. He instinctively turns to his side, and spits the water up. He coughs and breathes erratically as he fully returns to the land of the living, or rather the sea of the living. “Thank you!” he says when he gets the chance. “I’m an idiot.”
“It’s quite all right, son,” Ronan says. “Are you here with anyone?”
The boy shakes his head. “My character is an orphan who just escaped indentured servitude in search of a better life in Danmörk.”
Ronan smiles, and slaps him on the back, incidentally causing more water to spill out of his mouth. “Well, you’re gonna find it.” He looks over at the thief, who is trying to grab onto a skjöldr. It keeps flipping around, and as the storm starts growing even worse, he ultimately loses the tools to the deep. “Stop!” Ronan orders. “It’s gone! If we’re going to make it to that shore, we have to do it together!”
He continues to lead the participants. He figures out how to bring them all together, so no one gets pulled away by the waves. They make their way towards the land mass, which started out about a kilometer away. Man, these people really know how to make life interesting. He didn’t sign up to start this whole thing with practically nothing, but it’s the best thing that could have happened to him, and is only invigorating him. Now they have to really build something here. Now they have to fight for survival. The first step in their long journey is over, and it’s probably the easiest one they’ll run up against. They’ve made it. They start climbing up the beach. And so it begins.

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Extremus: Year 130

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
As angry as Audrey is at Silveon for forcing her through the Nexus, she lets go of it pretty quickly when she meets her daughter. Silvia Husk is 28 years old now, and she feels so grateful for this incredible opportunity. Her alternate self has done a great job of raising a productive and well-rounded individual. One thing that Extremus!Audrey—as they have decided to call her to distinguish her from Green!Audrey—was worried about, was how Silvia would handle this situation. Audrey herself would be a little freaked out in her shoes. It would be weird for her to suddenly have two mothers, but Silvia hasn’t been struggling at all. It sounds like she had quite the happy childhood, and has grown up into a beautiful, confident young woman. Extremus!Audrey is sad that she missed it all. But at least they have this time now.
Today, Silvia wants to show Extremus!Audrey something. Green!Audrey isn’t coming. It’s unclear if that’s because she’s already seen it, or if it’s something that will only be between the two of them. “This is only between us,” Silvia says, answering the question right away. She unlocks a safe under her bed and pulls out a teleporter band. “This is off the grid. It’s scary to use, because it relies on line-of-sight, and where we’re going, we can’t see it from here. We’re gonna have to jump to the sky a few times before landing where we wanna be, but I promise, it will be worth it.”
Audrey smiles at her precious daughter. “I trust you.” She’s never been in the sky before. She’s hardly spent any time outside her whole life. She sleeps under the stars nearly every night, even if that means teleporting to the other side of Verdemus for the right weather conditions. The immersion holograms really don’t do it justice. Nothing beats true nature. And that must be where they’re going now, because if it’s off the grid, it’s not going to be a clone factory, or a space elevator station. Plus, she said to wear her swimsuit underneath her clothes. She lets Audrey bound their wrists with a tether so if they die, they die together, and then they jump away.
They immediately start to fall. Audrey doesn’t know where to look, but that’s not her job. She smiles over at her girl, who is enjoying herself a little too much. Before they get anywhere close to Splat City, though, she looks over and jumps them back up to a higher altitude, but at a different longitude. They do that a couple more times before reaching their real target, and man is it a close call. They’re standing at the very edge of an island cliff. If Audrey were to take one step back, she would pull them over. And they could really get hurt before Silvia managed to jump them to safety again. She steps forward a few meters, then undoes the tether herself. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s an island. Pretty small, comparatively speaking. It’s basically just a tall-ass rock in the middle of the ocean. The satellites have mapped it, of course, but it’s entirely untouched. As far as I know, I’m the only person who has ever been here. I actually love to freefall. It’s one of my favorite things to do. That’s how I ended up finding this place, just from flying all over the world.
“That’s really cool, Silvy,” Audrey says sincerely. “I’m so thankful for our time together. I wish I had been able to raise you.”
Silvia begins to tear up. “There’s something else I never told my mother. And I wouldn’t tell you, but I think you have the right to know.”
“You can tell me anything,” Audrey promises. “And you can tell her too.”
Silvia fights through the tears. “I’m more like my father than I would like to admit. I’m not a tyrant, or anything, but I inherited something from him.”
“You’re psychic.”
“Only in one very weird sort of way,” Silvia goes on. “I can’t...read people’s thoughts like grandma, or feel their emotions like dad. It’s more like I see the timeline of their thoughts. I can see where their consciousness began, and...” She trails off.
“You can see where it is.”
“Yes. I know when people are going to die.”
Audrey nods somberly. “I was gonna potentially live forever. There’s this thing we have on the Extremus—”
“The Question, I know it. Mother has trusted me with a lot of secret information. She said she never considered not telling me the truth. It must have been hard for you, having to stay with my father for so long. Mother thought he might get worse over time.”
“He did, but I still hold out hope. I think maybe this was the best thing for him, and the ship. I think maybe my presence was just getting in the way, or really, that it was no longer helping. My chapter there is over, and from the way you’re sobbing, I’m guessing that this isn’t the start of a new chapter, but more of an epilogue.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you won’t get to see the Extremus planet.”
Audrey looks back out at the grandeur. “I did. This is what the mission was for. It doesn’t matter how far from the Core Worlds we traveled. That was never what we were truly looking for. I have no regrets, not even your father. He gave me you, if only for a year.”
“If it helps, I’m not sure if this truly spells the end. There’s something weird about the consciousness stream. It does end, but then... Then there’s something else. Like, a locked door that I can’t see past. Maybe there’s an afterlife. A true one, beyond the buffer.”
“Maybe,” Audrey agrees.
“Well.” Silvia wipes the tears from her face. “The good news is, you’re not in any danger. You literally can’t die today. If you want, I can tell you exactly when—”
“No, I’m fine with a little bit of mystery. I don’t need to know everything, but it’s nice to know we at least have the day.”
“Yeah. So. How about it?”
“How about what?” Audrey asks.
Silvia shakes her eyes towards the edge of the cliff. “Let’s go. I’ve done it many times myself. I assure you, it’s perfectly safe, as long as you clear about a meter from the edge.”
“Oh, is that it?” What a ridiculous suggestion.
“I told you, you can’t die.”
“And what about you? Can you see the end of your own stream?”
“No, but I don’t want to live my life cowering in the corner.”
Audrey considers the proposition. She definitely believes Silvia when she says that she won’t die, but that won’t make it any easier. It won’t make it any less scary. But she doesn’t want to be fearful either. She frowns, trying to make it seem like she’s gonna say no, but then she turns it upside down and pulls her shirt off. “Well, come on! If we’re gonna do it, let’s not waste time!”
Mother and daughter hold each other by the waist, and stand on the very edge again, but this time overlooking the water, smiling at each other. Without counting down or speaking, they turn towards the unknown, and jump off.
Audrey dies about a year later, just in time to make it to the big afterlife simulation in the sky before it apparently collapses.

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Microstory 2688: Go A-Viking

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Kala gave him some good advice. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, so he followed her directions to a suite they had set up for him. It was super nice and luxurious, reminding him of the hotel where he stayed on Anchor Island. He took a quick shower, and then crawled into bed.
He dreams of being on a boat, but it’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It’s wooden, like the canoes and fishing boats that the Tamborans would use, but it’s big, more like the kind the Bungulans had. He’s dressed in alien layered clothing on the deck, looking out over the ocean. He can’t see a single hint of land anywhere. Nothing really happens, but he’s not alone. He’s experiencing the voyage with others, most of whom he does not recognize. Caprice is there, though he is much younger than she was before. Either this is a memory of her past, or a vision of the future, and she has chosen to inhabit a younger version of herself. The second one actually makes the most sense.
He wakes up feeling refreshed, but confused, and trying to make sense of what he saw. Being on the sea obviously wasn’t too weird, but the clothes they were wearing, and the tone of the scene—people’s facial expressions—even the color of the sky...none of it looked right to him. He couldn’t even tell if they were happy to be there.
He finds Caprice eating dinner alone in the common area when he exits his room. They’re evidently sharing the space. She tried to be here for him in time for the eruption, but got caught up with something on the other side of the island. She appears as young as she did in the dream, and he’s never seen her this way before, which strongly suggests that it really is something from his future. The mountain is no longer a problem, so his mind has jumped to the next one. “What do you think?” he asks her. “Does that sound like something you would do, or even have done?”
“I think, since I’ve known you, I’ve learned to trust what you see, and what you say. If you think we’ll be on a big boat together, sailing on rough waters, I believe you. I have never been on a boat like that before, but I have heard of it. I have to say, I hope it doesn’t mean that we’ll be traveling through time.”
“Why would that even be a possibility?” Resi asks, puzzled.
“What you’re describing is a viking boat, and viking clothing. And the sky you saw? It sounds more like the one on Earth. The sky there isn’t quite as icy blue as it is on Bungula? I’ve seen pictures. Here, I can pull it up for you.” She reaches for her device.
“I believe you. I can’t imagine we would ever go to Earth, let alone the past.”
Caprice tilts her head in thought. “There’s another option.”
“What would that be?”
“Well, have you heard of Castlebourne? It’s tens of light years away.”
“Yeah, that’s the one where it’s just a bunch of amusement parks, right?”
“It’s a lot more than that. I think I might be able to pull up the prospectus from this. They give out all that information because they want visitors.” She taps on her device a little. “Yeah, I searched for vikings, and here it is; the Nordome Network. Live like a Northman in the first millennium. Sail the seas, take the lands, and try to keep them! In this highly immersive simulation, no electricity is allowed. It is not something you visit, but something you live. Are you ready to go a-viking? Tap here to begin your journey, and see what you’re made of. Hmm. It actually sounds like fun.”
It sounds like a nightmare.

Monday, May 18, 2026

Microstory 2671: The View From Up Here

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Resi is on Anchor Island now, as is every Fold Leader in his House. They all came here in a boat, while Resi got to fly in what he initially called a helicopter, but which was apparently known as a shuttle. They are in a conference room of some kind. It’s very sterile and lifeless. They aren’t used to it. Just about everything they do on Yana is outside, even when they’re under a roof. Fully enclosed spaces are mainly for sleeping, and maintaining valuables. That’s what keeps them a unified peoples, and is a core tenet of their sociological philosophy, even if they’re not entirely aware of it. They’re in the tallest building any of them has seen in real life, towering over the surface so high that the view from this side makes it look like they’re just sitting on top of the ocean itself. They’re all looking out the window quietly together. Resi wishes it was showing the island itself. Caprice’s information was out of date. This place is no longer a wasteland.
“Thank you all for waiting.” The invincible shuttle stranger takes her seat at the head, waving her hand across it invitingly. She taps on the wooden table like it’s a device. It turns out to be just that when a trapdoor slides open, and lifts a glass of water up for her. When she notices the way everyone is looking at her, she taps more to activate everyone’s own personal interfaces.
They begin to play with their preferences, but Resi is all business. He’s at the opposite head, and has to raise his voice a little. “How long until the others arrive?”
“The others?” she questions. “It’s just little old me.” She doesn’t look the least bit intimidated, being surrounded by all these crazy kids, with no one to back her up. This isn’t a contentious meeting, though it will be complex and complicated. He wouldn’t want to be alone. “My name is Zenith Gerard. I am the Anchor Island Representative. Only about a thousand people live here permanently. The rest are traveling up the elevators to Anchor Station, or down from it, as well as a few who are transferring from Yana to the mainland. As I am most familiar with the way Yana works, and how it differs from the rest of the stellar neighborhood, particularly Greater Bungula, I’ve been asked to speak with your personally, rather than bringing in a diplomat from elsewhere. Before we begin, are there any customs that you must set up, or rituals that you must perform?”
“No,” Resi says. “I’ve been trying to meet with you for days, and would like to get on with it, so we can come to an amicable understanding.”
She’s confused again. “There is a procedure for reaching out to us.”
“I was not made aware of it,” he explains. “We are exiles.”
“Yes,” she replies with a sigh. “I recognize that, and wish that I could help.”
“You could,” Resi tells her. “You have the room. You said it yourself, only a thousand people live here. We don’t require much. We can build our own infrastructure, we just can’t stay where we are now.”
Zenith nods. “I hear you, but this is a more delicate situation than I believe you know. I’m not saying no, but even if you agree to live as we do, you are facing opposition from your island leadership. You should know, they’re in the other room, fighting against any aid that we might be inclined to provide.”
Resi fumes. “They are the ones who are pushing us out. Where do they expect us to go? The bottom of the sea?”
“I don’t think it’s about that,” Zenith begins. “I think they’re worried that if you leave, others might follow. Your exile is meant to be...undesireable. If you land on your feet, you show that it’s possible to leave Yana.”
“What does it matter, what they want?” Resi questions. “You have the bigger guns. They can’t do anything to stop you. Just make the call, and screw ‘em.”
“Our first thought is never of violence. That is one thing that we share in common with your island. You have to understand, Mr. Brooks. Your way of life is against the law for everyone else in the Core Colonies, and unheard of in the neighborhood.”
“What are the Core and the neighborhood? What’s wrong with our way of life?”
“The Core includes the systems closest to Earth,” she says. “They were colonized first, and are expected to maintain post-scarcity economies. Anyone who doesn’t want that is given the tools they need to travel even farther through space, to the Charter Planets, or beyond. We do not allow capitalism. The stellar neighborhood lies before the Charter Cloud, and don’t have to be post-scarcity, but they all are. Yana is an exception.”
Resi stands back up, and walks over to the corner. At this height, they can actually see Central Mountain in the distance, though only through a sliver of the glass. The rest is opaque, until now. It suddenly turns transparent, so Yana can be seen in its full glory. The other kids stand to get a look, but he looks back at Zenith. “You are more advanced than we realized. Or I should say, we are less advanced than we should be.” He slips through the crowd. “Stay here, look at the pretty island.”
Zenith stands too. “Capitalism does not disallow innovation, but it can slow it down, especially for a smaller population of protected peoples. Necessity is the mother of invention, and we obviate that. We control the weather. We hold back the tsunamis. We cure your diseases. You’ve not progressed much, because you’ve not needed to.”
 “So, where does this leave us?” Resi asks, trying to maintain composure.
“There is one way for you to become integrated into our society,” Zenith tells him, “but only the one. It’s how we’ve been doing it for centuries.”
“The Kidjum.”
“We respect your traditions,” she goes on. “Your Kidjum process is baked into the accord that I signed with your ancestors. It is how someone from your culture becomes one of us. Your leaders are willing to take you back as long as you validate their conventions, and if that ends with a few people coming here anyway, then that’s fine with them, because that is how it always was.”
“There’s something fishy here,” Resi complains. “They gave me this House, and took it away five minutes later because they didn’t like what I did with it.”
She nods. “I would have to agree, but it is not my place to take sides. The accord was with your governing body, and House Kutelin is not a recognized faction of it. In the eyes of Bungula, everything happening between you and your nation is an internal matter. I’m trying to find a way to get you need without breaking that fragile accord.”
Resi turns around to face the other Fold Leaders. He thought they were admiring the view, but they’ve been watching the two of them like an audience. “This has to be a group effort. Do we return to the Kidjum, and risk losing our momentum, or do we stand together, and fight for a home, whether that’s there, here, or elsewhere?”
It starts out slow, but dominos quickly as the other kids sit back down in their seats. “Let’s talk,” one of them says. She looks at Zenith. “Thank you. You can go now.”

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Microstory 2667: Pure Guano

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
It’s been another few days since the fruitless meeting in Ambassador Hall. Resi has been trying to go over the heads of the ambassadors, and secure an audience with the Presidents of Sanggar and Pekat themselves, but no such luck. It’s looking like Cortez was right. There’s no place for them on the island anymore. Their numbers haven’t stopped going up. There are now 428 of them. Fortunately, it’s not the rainy season right now, so the kids who have to sleep outside of the dorms are doing okay. They’ve lived on an island their whole lives, so it’s not like any of them isn’t used to the elements. Resi is trying to hold it together, but everyone is looking to him to fix this. They have less than two weeks to figure out where to go, but it’s not so simple. Leaving Yana is the one thing that no one wants to do. They’re islanders. That’s their whole thing. They didn’t choose any of the four original houses, but they didn’t choose Kinkon either. They can’t stand the thought. But if they leave, they can’t just let the Bungulas plop them down wherever there happens to be open space. They’re not familiar with the planet’s geography, but there has to be more than one island. Maybe even a better one?
“Caprice,” Resi says as he’s walking towards his unit. “You’re with me.”
“Boss,” she replies respectfully as she’s following him down the hall. The way she justifies her involvement in this is that the Kidjums were supposed to end for good, leaving her free to choose a new destiny for herself. She says she couldn’t help it that the Assembly decided to go back to the old ways. That was weeks ago. She’s quit her job, and found a new one. She’s the only older person here.
Resi pops his head into the room. And there’s the only younger person here. He steps back out and looks down the hall. “Hey, Chaya! Are you free?”
“Yeah, need me to take her?” Chaya was the Ilah girl from his first non-Kidjum who challenged his decisions. Not everyone from that fateful day is part of Resi’s personal Fold now, but a lot of them have proven themselves capable of serving well as his advisors and delegates. Chaya, in particular, is good with Kala, so she takes on babysitting duties when Resi can’t look after her, or needs some privacy. She takes Kala’s hand when she comes out of the dorm on her own, knowing the drill. “Let’s go get some bolon de verde.”
“Not too much,” Resi instructs.
Caprice closes the door behind her. “I think you need to stop trying to talk to the presidents. They don’t have time for us. They don’t care.”
“Oh, I’ve stopped,” Resi agrees. “We only have one more option now, and it’s not Yana. I’m hoping that you know where we could go, given your history.”
“My history?” Caprice questioned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re Kinkon,” he says. It’s not something they ever talk about, but while she looks Tamboran, she’s clearly had a lot of experience on the outside.
“What the hell are you talking about? No, I’m not. I was from Naino. I grew up as a fisherman. I hadn’t realized I hadn’t told you that. That’s why I always wear blue.”
“The color codes don’t really exist anymore, and that’s not a Kutelin thing.”
“They were when I was a kid. Naino wore mostly blue. I don’t understand why you thought I was Kinkon, because I know how to work a nanoparticle microinjector?” They don’t use a lot of technology from the outside world, but the Bungulans insisted on providing them with medical supplies. They said it was a humanitarian issue. No amount of non-interference laws could overshadow basic existential ethics.
“No, your name. Caprice is not Tamboran.”
She stares at him for a few seconds. “Yeah, my parents gave me a western world name. That’s not illegal, and it doesn’t mean I’m from one of the other settlements. I’m Tamboran through and through. I’m sorry if you thought that I had some special knowledge about what else is out there, but I probably had a worse education than you. I skipped half of the school days because I had to deepsea fish with my family.”
“So you do know about the ocean,” he presses. “Have you seen any other island, just when you were living your life, not studying it?”
“I’m sure there are a ton of islands out there. We didn’t go to any of them, because that’s not deep sea. The only specific one I know off the top of my head is Anchor Island, and we all know that one.”
“That’s the one with the elevator?” Resi asks rhetorically. “That would be in our own knowledge archives.” He takes out his device, and looks it up. He reads as much as he can without the silence becoming too awkward between him and Caprice. “It was ours. It’s only forty-two kilometers away, and used to be an extension of Yana. We gave it to the colonists not too long ago, historically speaking.”
“Yeah, that sounds right. I think our ancestors would mine guano there for fertilizer. But then they stripped it clean, and had no further use for it. They traded it for something—I don’t remember—but it was only recently that the Bungulans started using it for their space elevator, since we’re at the equator.” She looked up to think. “You were probably just being born when that was all going down. Somebody stole the top part of the elevator, and nearly started a war, so they had to build a new one to replace it.”
“Did they ever...figure out how to plant there? Or is it still barren?”
“No, I don’t think they care about that,” Caprice answers. “They just just use it to go up and down. So if you were hoping they would, for some reason, give it back, I don’t see why they would, and I don’t see what we would do with it.”
He sighed and frowned, looking down at the floor, defeated yet again.
“But. Even though I’m not Kinkon, one thing I know about them is that Anchor Island doubles as a waypoint. When they choose to leave Yana, they go there first, and start to acclimate to a new way of life. I obviously don’t know exactly what that entails, but every time they’re needed, the Anchor people come here in a really fast boat, and ferry them over. I think such an excursion is not a big deal for those people. They could probably make the trip on their lunch break.”
“How often does someone’s subconscious choose Kinkon during a Kidjum?”
“In my experience, a few people a week. It fluctuates, though. During periods of great strife, we usually end up with more, because kids believe there’s a better life for them on the other side of the ocean.”
“Is there?” Resi asks her. “Are we stupid for not choosing Kinkon too?”
She’s silent at first, looking away, then looking him in the eyes again. “Probably.”
Resi nods. “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry this conversation started out so combative. Now. I think I need a camera. For now, we are no longer accepting applications to join House Kutelin. The Kidjums must start again so someone can choose Kinkon for us, and trigger that boat. You and I are gonna get on it.”

Monday, September 1, 2025

Microstory 2486: Estuaridome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
There is a mountain under this dome, which is nearly all natural, and a river flowing from it. It’s not a particularly long river, but it’s necessary to support the star of the show, which is of course, the estuary. Like Nordome Network, this is not only one dome. It’s connected to the one next to it, but it’s unique in that it connects to a non-standard-sized dome. An estuary doesn’t just mark the end of a river. It serves as the transition between a river and the ocean, so in order for this to work, they needed an ocean. Sure, they could have dug a mini-ocean inside this dome just to get the point across, but why do that when you can simply choose a spot that’s next to a full-sized ocean, which they were doing anyway? Estuaridome butts right up against Aquilonian Deep. They share an atmosphere, and you can travel between them freely, either by boat, or along the bank / shore. There’s nothing to do here, really. You can’t camp overnight. You can’t have parties, or participate in water sports. You can have a nice picnic, and obviously, you can go on a hike. You can climb the mountain, or just sit and enjoy the peace. But you can’t do anything disruptive, destructive, or annoying. There is a tour you can take, if you don’t want to be self-guided. I took that one day, then came back to just be alone the next. The tour guide was very knowledgeable, and you could tell that he was a human who studied all this stuff on purpose, rather than a superintelligence who simply downloaded the data. He will tell you all about this estuary, and what kind of life lives there, but he can also answer questions about other estuaries on Earth. But just Earth. He has not studied other habitable planets in the galaxy, nor even other water-based domes on Castlebourne. That’s not a complaint, just a warning to direct your questions appropriately. That’s all I’ll say about this. It’s nice and enjoyable, but it isn’t revolutionary, and it’s not any better than a natural geographic fixture.

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Microstory 2457: Horseback Mountain

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I love horses, and if you don’t, then we can’t be friends, so don’t @ me. Horseback Mountain is a pretty simple concept. It’s all about horses, and horseback riding. It’s not one mountain, though, which I think is a little weird, but I don’t really care, because I love horses. The first thing I did when I heard about Castlebourne was access the prospectus, and look for a place like this, and it was the first thing to come up. There’s another dome that has ranchland, and a few other horse-inclusive environments, but this is the one where that’s all there is. You can ride horses on a mountain (of course), but there are other areas too. There are plains and prairies, muddy trails, dirt roads, and even beaches. The ocean next to it isn’t real. Curious, a member of one of my riding parties got off, jumped into the water, and started swimming. He was still within yelling distance when he reached the dome’s walls. A hologram makes it look much bigger than it is. This isn’t a complaint, by the way; I really don’t care. The point is to have a place for the horses to run, and the can’t run in deep water anyway. If you want the ocean, go to one of the big ones on the poles. Now for the big question. Are the horses real? The answer is...it’s your choice! There are many real horses available, though they are in limited supply. It takes a long time to grow an animal this large, and they have to be introduced to their environment—and to people—using safe and ethical methods. I much prefer a real horse, but the same can’t be said for everyone, which is why there are other options. There’s more variety, though, than simply organic versus automaton. Your horse can be programmed with whatever temperament or personality you chose. We passed by a group of kids whose horses were fully intelligent. There was only one adult with them. From what we could gather, the horses were the children’s chaperones. They were keeping them in line when they got too rowdy, and teaching them about nature, particularly horses, as you can imagine. I believe the human adult was there in case there was an emergency that required adult hands. I don’t know what kind of intelligence she was, because she didn’t speak while we were passing by. I just think that’s a cool little feature that I wouldn’t have thought of myself. Before you ask, all kinds of equines are here, including donkeys and mules,  zebras, and a few other things. Yes, there are unicorns and pegasuses. You cannot ride either of these things, because if they existed in the real world, they wouldn’t let you, at least according to the Castlebournian interpretation of the mythology. The pegasuses can’t fly. I don’t know how they would without breaking any law of physics, but they have wings, so they look cool. They’re supposed to be rare, but you can go on a particular tour where you’re guaranteed to see what you’re looking for, because they’re either programmed or trained to be in sight. I honestly don’t know if they were mechanical or organic. I didn’t ask, because I don’t care about mythological creatures. I’m a horse girl, and a purist. That’s why I never want to leave. This isn’t a residential dome, but I’ve requested that they make an exception, and build me a home to live in, so I don’t have to take the vactrain here every day. I’m waiting for their response. Wish me luck.

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Microstory 2452: Coraldome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
This dome is categorized under multiple categories, but you wouldn’t know it by finding it in one of the categories, and opening its prospectus. It’s a little nitpicky, but I just happened to notice that it shows up when you change filters. It’s unclear how many domes are multicategorical, which I guess just bothers me on principle? I know, that’s not really what we’re talking about here, but you can’t provide public feedback on the catalog itself, and I just felt like this was something that other people should know. Okay, I’ll get back to it, and I promise that it won’t be negative moving forward, and that’s because Coraldome is a beautiful place. After looking through all the category filters, I was able to determine that this dome is Residential, Leisure, Ecological, Research & Development, and Institutional. You can live here, if you find an apartment that strikes your fancy, or have a temporary stay at Korallion Hotel. Whether you’re here for long-term exploration, or a one-day visit, there’s a lot to see, and a lot to learn. Life on Earth began through a process known as abiogenesis in the ocean, specifically in hydrothermal vents. It evolved from there, organisms multiplying, taking in energy from their environment, responding to stimuli. They mutated, adapted, filled ecological niches. They transformed into independent species, gained new traits, and eventually left the waters, growing new limbs, and reaching for the sky. But some stayed in the water. Most of them, indeed. Earth’s biosphere is perfectly tailored for the life that evolved there, because any life that wasn’t suited for survival...didn’t. And it still doesn’t. Castlebourne is a different place. You can stick as many domes on it as you want. You can pump air in here, and salt the water with minerals. You can warm it up and cool it down, but it will never be Earth. It will never be our origin. Still, we like life, and our biological imperative demands that we make it. Humans are unique in that we are compelled to make and preserve other species besides our own. Whether it benefits ourselves or not, we want it to live. It’s why we consolidated our population into centralized spaces on Earth, and why we left. It’s why we settled on barren worlds, including Castlebourne; because it didn’t require us to destroy life. When you come to Coraldome, you’ll be met with a community of organisms of all varieties, imported from Earth via digital DNA. They live here now, genetically altered to survive in Castlebourne’s unique ecosystems. We may call it a clownfish, but it’s not the same clownfish that you may find off the coast of Australia. It’s a Castlebourne clownfish, because the composition of the water is different, as is the gravity. The other plants and animals are different too, which impacts how they interact with each other. You could know everything about the biosphere back home, but you’ll have to relearn everything if you come here, and Coraldome is the perfect place to do it. The fish swim all around you, right up to the glass, on multiple levels. It’s my favorite place in the world. This world anyway. Nothing will ever be better than Earth; where it all began. See? I told you that I would start being positive.

Saturday, July 12, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Foundation Rock (Part VII)

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Echo and Clavia both teleport out of the water, leaving every molecule of it behind, even the drops clinging to their skin, so they’re completely dry now, on the ground. They also apport clothes around their bodies so they can continue the conversation. “Aristotle Al-Amin,” Echo begins, “son of Maqsud.”
“That’s right,” Aristotle says. He was leaning against a tree. He pops himself off it, and saunters around, vaguely in their direction.
“You’re the one who made the Sixth Key?” Clavia asks.
“I didn’t make it,” he clarifies. “I did transport everyone to it, though.”
“How did you do that?” Andrei asks, still piloting the original Clavia body.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Aristotle answers anticlimactically.
“That’s okay,” Echo decides. “The only question is, can you do it again? Mostly the same people, and their descendants. Comparatively, the population isn’t all that much higher, and they’re all in the same place now, going to the same place. Here, actually. But. We also have to figure out who wants to go, and who doesn’t. They’re getting a choice this time.”
Aristotle nods like he knows something they don’t, which he surely does. He continues to pace around a little, admiring the peaceful surroundings. “I should clarify, I didn’t do it alone. I had enormous help, from a god.”
“Some people call us gods,” Andrei says.
Aristotle’s eyes dart over to him, but he doesn’t move his head. “You may be gods in this universe, but I spoke with those who live on a higher plane of existence. Now, that doesn’t mean we need them this time. Maybe you could supply the power instead. I don’t know who any of you are. All I know is that I can’t do it at the scale you’re asking for without some serious might.”
“Well, how did you contact these higher gods?” Clavia asks.
“A special term sequence that you input in a Nexus,” Aristotle answers.
“Can you remember the sequence?” Clavia presses.
Aristotle snorts as he laughs. “Yeah, I think I can recall.”
They stare at him blankly.
“It’s one glyph long,” he clarifies.
“Then why doesn’t everybody do it?” Andrei asks him.
“Because it’s only one glyph,” Aristotle reiterates. “Most people don’t think to even try it, because most term sequences are longer. Besides, it can only be used once at any given Nexus, and if you’ve ever done it before, you can’t do it again. You can tag along, but you won’t get another wish. If we go this route, I won’t be able to do it, because mine has already been asked and answered.”
“A wish?” Clavia questions. “Are they gods, or genies?”
“Both, I guess. They don’t use either of those words. They just have names.”
Andrei looks around. “Does anyone know of a Nexus in the Sixth Key that might be so rarely used that no one has tried this oddly simple single-glyph term sequence? Can you even call it a sequence?”
Echo shakes his head as he’s beginning to walk away. “No need to find a needle in a haystack. I’ll just conjure a new needle.” He waves his arms. The trees before him sink into the ground as if it’s made of mud. Once the clearing has formed, an artificial cube materializes atop it. It looks just like any other Nexus, on the outside, and once they step inside, they find it to be typical there as well.
Aristotle looks around. “Are you sure you need my help to do what you ask, or the gods’ help? Might wanna save your wish if you can. As I said, you only get one.”
“No, we know we can’t do it,” Clavia explains. “But that’s a good question. Which one of us should go and ask?”
Aristotle shrugs. “We can all go. It’s one question each. The only thing is, whoever literally inputs the sequence can’t ever do it again. Just like the wish itself, I’m disqualified for that too.”
“I’ll handle it,” Echo volunteers. They all step down into the cavity. “Which is it?”
“Zero-enter,” Aristotle replies. “We’re going to a place called Origin.”
Echo kicks the glyph that translates to zero, and then the enter button. Technicolors rain down from the drum above, and spirit them away.
They find themselves on a dock, floating on a dark and mysterious ocean. It’s eerie, but beautiful. They feel safe here, like nothing can or will hurt them. A rowboat approaches. A person steps out of it, and ties it on. “Welcome to Origin. My name is Senona Riggur.” They turn their head to look at Aristotle. “You’re back. You know the rules, though.”
“Of course,” Aristotle answers. “I’m just their guide.”
Senona turns back to address the other three, but ends up focusing on Andrei in particular. “There are more here than there appears to be.”
Andrei is surprised. “Uh, yeah. We are six in one.”
Senona breathes deeply, and considers the situation. “Six consciousnesses, one body. Six wishes.”
“We appreciate the accommodation,” Andrei says with a slight bow. “That’s very magnanimous of you. A lesser god would not see it that way.”
Senona laughs. “We don’t use that term. Anyway, it’ll make it easier for us to talk if I separate you out first.” They lift their hand, and wave it towards the Clavia body. It disappears, only to be instantly replaced by Ingrid Alvarado, Onyx Wembley, Killjlir Pike, Andrei Orlov, Ayata Seegers, and Debra Lovelace. They’re all in their own bodies, just like they’ve wanted for so long.
And they’re surprised too. They inspect their new substrates, confirming with each other without speaking that they all look exactly as they’re meant to. “Whose wish was that?” Ingrid asks.
Senona is taken aback. “That wasn’t a wish. That was just...maintenance. You still have six.” They address the group as a whole. “To clarify, there are eight qualifiers here. You get eight wishes. You don’t really have to decide whose is whose. I’ve had people come here in groups who collectively all want the same thing, so it’s been more collaborative than individual. It’s all up to you. To further clarify, it’s not magic. What I just did for you, I did with the aid of someone with the tools to make it happen. Just because you can imagine it, doesn’t mean there is anyone in the bulkverse with the requisite tools. If I cannot accomplish what you ask, we’ll work together, and determine something that I can. You have all the time in the world to come up with your ideas.”
“A benevolent god,” Clavia decides.
“A benevolent person,” Senona corrects, “with, as I said, a set of tools. My tools are to find other people’s tools. I sense great power in all of you. I ask, on the side, that you make yourselves available to lend your talents to me in the pursuit of other people’s wishes. I don’t demand it of you, but it would be appreciated.”
“Maybe this is where we’re supposed to be,” Echo whispers to Clavia.
“Maybe,” she whispers back.
“Can we ask questions without them being wishes?” Onyx pipes up.
“Sure!” Senona agrees.
“His wish.” Onyx jerks his head towards Aristotle. “How’d you do it? And can you do it again?”
“Oh, that. I hooked him up with one of the most powerful entities in the bulk. You call me a god...”
“You did?” Aristotle asks. “I don’t remember that.”
“You wouldn’t,” Senona contends. “You didn’t actually meet him. I more just passed the message along.”
“Who was it?”
Senona smiles, but doesn’t answer.
“I think I know who you’re talking about,” Clavia guesses. She too doesn’t say it out loud, though. It would explain everything. He has omnipotent power over everything that happens in Salmonverse, all of its child universes, and reportedly a number of other branes beyond those. It’s a bit of a deus ex machina for him to exercise that control to the degree he needed to in order to make the Reconvergence happen, and to rescue everyone from four of the five original realities. So it’s unclear why he wouldn’t simply make it a non-issue, but she can’t question his judgment, lest he use his authority against her in some way.
It’s probably for the best that she not investigate further, the man she’s talking about concurs from his bed on a Thursday night. The only question now is whether he would be willing to do it again. Honestly, he’s still debating it.
Okay, it’s been a few hours for him, and he’s ready with his decision, but they’re not going to be happy about it. They’ll do it, though, because that’s what it’s going to take to end the Reality Wars once and for all. Senona receives his message telepathically, and they don’t like it either. “That is not how it works here. It goes against the spirit of everything that we’ve built.”
It’s a sacrifice.
“It’s unreasonable!” they shout back.
It’s too big for one wish.
“Someone once asked me for a sandwich!” Senona argues.
That one was too small for a wish. I can’t control their choices.
“You literally can!”
“Should we try to help?” Killjlir offers.
“Shh,” Ingrid warns. “It’s far too dangerous for us to get involved.”
“It’s not just about the number of wishes,” Senona goes on. “You’re asking them to leave everything they’ve ever known behind. You’re asking them to never see their loved ones again.”
They all hail from a universe where death is less profound, and more of a joke. From my perspective, as much as I’ve put them through, they’ve had it easy. Everyone I’ve ever known has either died for good, or will relatively soon. I shed no tears for these people, and neither should you. Are you going to do it, or make eight sandwiches instead?
Senona frowns with a level of rage that they have not felt in a long time. “I’ve had enough of your editorializing. You can stop inserting yourself into the story, thank you very much. I’ll talk to them myself.” They take a breath, centering themselves. “Based on the half of the conversation that you could hear, I’m sure that you can mostly guess what the stipulations are for your wish. He’s turned me into a liar, because if you ask for the wish that we’ve already discussed, you won’t get seven more. You won’t get any more. This one wish counts for all eight.”
“We understand,” Echo says. “It’s up to the whole group, though. It must be unanimous. Even Debra has to agree.”
“That’s not all,” Senona goes on. “You can’t live there, in your new universe. You can’t live in Salmonverse either, or any of its other offshoots, in fact. You’ll either be staying here, or going somewhere else.”
“Can we...stick together?” Ayata asks, glancing over at her love, Andrei.
“Truthfully, I don’t know,” Senona says. “I’ve become little more than a mouthpiece. It’s all up to him this time. And he reserves the right to change his mind at any time.”
“What a dick,” Debra muses.
“Debra! Jesus Christ!” Clavia shouts. “You’re gonna get us all killed!”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Debra dismisses it with a flick of her hair.
Senona clears their throat. “I’m receiving a new message. I’m told to ask if any of you know someone by the name of Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus.”
No, they all answer in one way, or another.
“He says...exactly.” Senona finishes.
Echo literally shivers.
They’re all tired of arguing about this, so they put it to a vote. To everyone’s surprise, what they figured would only be the first attempt turns out to be unanimous. They all want to avert the Reality Wars, even if it means not being around to witness the fruits of their labor. They have all been working towards this end for so long, it’s absolutely worth it. It would be selfish of them to try to find some kind of loophole. Debra doesn’t really have this same sentimentality, but she goes along with the plan, because she believes herself to be powerful enough to find a workaround later. And the reality is that she might be right. That has not yet been decided.
They don’t know where the others are gonna end up yet, but Echo and Clavia are going to remain here at Origin. They can do a lot of good, fulfilling visitors’ greatest desires, and making countless worlds better. It’s a great use of their gifts now that their primary goal of saving the Sixth Key is complete. They only asked for one thing in addition to the wish itself, which is to be given some kind of proof that this hasn’t all been for nothing, and that the wish will indeed be fulfilled. I can agree to that. I don’t need any more pushback from any of them, and would like to remove myself from the narrative. Clavia is right, that it’s a deus ex machina, and while that’s a very useful trope in some cases, it’s not something that should be overutilized, or the story essentially becomes meaningless, and a waste of time.
The Reality Wars will be stopped, and everyone who wants to live in the new universe will be automatically transported to it without fuss. All year, I’ve been trying to figure out what its name should be, and I think I’ve finally settled on the right one. In keeping with the motif of placing them in numerical order, it must necessarily follow The Seventh Stage. The result is unremarkable, and strangely simple. I’m calling it...The Eighth Choice.