Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts

Thursday, October 15, 2026

Microstory 2779: Nearly Everyone Dies

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1
Jande Ter Avest wakes up and yawns, louder than he wanted to, which serves to wake up his wives. They were going to have to wake up soon enough anyway, though, so it’s fine. He rolls over and gives Evers a kiss, then lifts himself up and over her to kiss Suki. Second Autumn is coming to a close, so it’s the first morning that it’s still dark out when it’s time to get to work. He starts to leave the house as he is, as he normally does.
“Jan,” Evers says. It doesn’t even look like her eyes are open. “You need clothes.”
“It’s not cold enough, I’ll be fine,” Jande assures her.
“Put on clothes,” Evers reiterates. She’s still drowsy and annoyed.
“Put on clothes,” Suki echoes.
“Put on clothes, put on clothes, put on clothes.” They know he hates chanting.
“Fine, fine. I’m putting on my clothes,” Jande reluctantly agrees. “God.”
“Yay,” Suki replies as she buries her face in her pillow.
“Yay,” Evers concurs, just as exhausted and grumpy.
Jande does as they ask, then goes outside. He can never admit that they were right. It is unseasonably cold already. He didn’t bother to check the forecast, but they must have. He ends up stepping back inside real quick to grab a coat too.
He shivers as he’s walking towards the barn. Across the way, he sees his sister walking towards it from her own house. Her pet uquirapod is waddling alongside her. They wave to each other and smile, but don’t speak. It’s too early to speak. He doesn’t hate his life, but he doesn’t love it either. One day, when his parents’ bodies are old enough, they’ll retire, and it will be up to him and Laise to carry on the legacy.
As long as Laise doesn’t run off to find her own way, Jande’s workload will only double, and if he doesn’t have kids eventually, it could last indefinitely. He doesn’t mind doing it for the duration of a legal lifetime if it makes his family happy. He has his whole immortality ahead of him, which he can spend doing whatever he wants. It’s not that hard of a job anyway, it’s just kind of silly to him. One day he’ll look back, and this will only be a blip. His mind lives in that future. He thinks Laise’s mind does too.
She holds the door open for him, and they both walk in. Their father is leaning back in his chair, fast asleep. If he’s not careful, he’ll tip over and fall on his head.
When Laise clears her throat, Father is startled awake. He instantly looks up at the two of them, and says, “you’re late!” like he had the complaint in the chamber.
Laise gets on her knees and rests her hand on Father’s knee. “It’s time, Father. It’s time for you to leave this body behind, and move on.”
Father winces and looks down at himself. “I’m still young enough to beat you.”
“Beat me in what?” Laise asks him with a chortle.
“Name a challenge. A foot race, a milking race; whatever you want,” Father urges.
Laise smiles at him. “You’ve been doing this for a hundred and ten years. You suffered through a lot of harsh winters, and if we’re being honest, your body wasn’t designed perfectly. There is no shame in retiring early. You’ll head west and start a new life. We can take it from here, we promise. Mother wants to be done too, I know it.”
Father shakes his head. “Neither of you married invested workers. You underestimate how hard this job is. You will not be able to handle it just between the two of you. Our way of life must be upheld. You both need to find new partners.”
“We married for love, Father,” Jande explains. “They still help, they just also do other things with their lives. That’s what I love about Evers and Suki.”
“That’s why I love Adora,” Laise agrees. “Our generation doesn’t believe in hard work simply for the sake of it, but that doesn’t mean we’re not committed. It’s no secret that we plan on integrating slightly more technology into the processes. Father, you have not tried to dissuade us from this. We’ll still be farmers, just more modern ones. Holding on for ten more years will not preserve tradition, it will just make your joints achy.” She gently removes the tablet from his hands. “Why don’t you let me handle assignments today? You go take a nap to sleep on it.” She looks down at the device. “Jande, you’re on eyren duty. I’m doing carrots and parbread.”
“Oh, I thought I was gonna do carrots,” Jande says. “Evers was asking to learn more about eyren harvesting, but I told her she could sleep in today.”
“Go ahead and prep the harvesters,” Laise decides. “I’ll get Evers for you.” She looks back at Father again. “Is this okay with you, that I supervise the workers? It’s late in the season, there’s no need for you to get worked up. It’s okay to take a break.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll take it slow today,” Father relents as he’s yawning.
While Laise is walking across the lawn to Jande’s house, Jande walks over to the shed to retrieve the equipment for harvesting eyren. As he’s loading the supplies on the cart, he sees both of his wives following Laise to the barn. They’re in the middle of a conversation, so he doesn’t interrupt them. He would later wish he had stopped them.
As soon as they step foot inside, the whole barn collapses. Jande does too. He lands on his hands and knees as the gravity pulls him down harder than usual. This happened a couple decades ago, but it was more gradual, and most buildings were reinforced in case it happened again, but they left the barn alone, because it’s just a barn. The shed buckles too and crashes down on top of Jande, pinning him against the soil. It lets up a little bit, but then the ground begins to shake. Jande tries to get up, but his spine has presumably been severed. He tries to crawl out, but he can’t move.
This body is wasted, it’s not going to heal; certainly not in enough time. It hasn’t killed him, so he’s going to have to do it himself. He doesn’t want to transfer his consciousness to a normal backup, though, because they’re too far away. Without telling anyone, Jande programmed a failsafe in his brain, which allows him to jump to the neighbor’s service bot. They are also farmers, but they use more advanced tech to make their lives easier, allowing them to focus more on the crops. Jande closes his eyes and triggers the suicide protocol. Everything goes dark for a few seconds. He’s not sure how long this is going to take, though, because he never tested it.
He doesn’t have to open his eyes again. The image simply renders in front of him. He finds himself carrying two little children in his metallic arms. It’s the neighbor kids. The four parents are running alongside him, trying to get out in the open space while the bidaquakes continue to stir up the ground. Jande looks around. This area is as good as any. The surface is solid, and nothing can fall upon them. Jande sets the kids down. “I must check on the Ter Avests too,” he requests.
“Yes, we’ll be fine, bot,” one of the mothers says. “Go help the community.”
It’s a kilometer away, but this substrate gets him back home in no time. He races into the barn, and starts carefully pulling debris away. Other than his mother, everyone he loves turns up dead, but his sister is the only one who never comes back to life.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Microstory 2759: Sunk Cost

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1
Elise is the last person to emerge from the depths. She practically begged one of the other hunters to come with them, but they refused. They said they didn’t want this anymore, and would be finding a way back or out. The implication was that they would kill themselves, but Elise didn’t ask any more questions. It is not her job to protect strangers. Suicide isn’t impossible these days, but it’s much harder for most than it used to be. A version of them will survive out there somewhere unless they don’t want it to.
So she went into the fountain behind the others. She didn’t have to put any effort into swimming. It was like the water sucked her down before pushing her back out at full speed. It was really hot for a minute there too. Now she’s in the torrent of the open water with no land in sight. She appears to be completely alone.
She feels a pair of hands on her chest. “Elise! We thought you were lost!”
Elise can’t even tell who it is amidst the chaos of the storm raging above them. She turns around to find Colley. “Where are we? Where are the others?” she cries.
“Get on my back!” he shouts back. “We found something!”
After she climbs on and straddles his hips, he breaststrokes away. They end up traveling pretty far. It’s a wonder, really, how he managed to find her at all.
At last, she sees the others. They’re huddled together, and staying together, which must mean they’re holding onto something. It’s too dark to see it. Only when Colley pulls her right up and helps her get a handhold does she realize where she is. Or she can guess, anyway. It appears to be the crow’s nest of some kind of wooden ship. Minotaur and the Bidan girl are standing in it, on either side of the pole thing. Everyone else is holding onto the railing thing so they at least don’t have to waste energy treading.
The irony is that Elise was just about to start learning how to sail one week after Rage found her in Skilldome. She saw underwater basketweaving as a cute transition to it. After she mastered a regular basket, she was intending to weave a model of a ship, and then she would take it with her to the docks. It was going to be this whole thing. To be fair, she was going to learn 21st century sailing at first, and only maybe make her way down the centuries after that, but it doesn’t matter, because now she knows nothing. It’s a pole thing and a railing thing until someone tells her exactly what they’re called.
They spend hours there, because there’s nothing else they can do. Before Elise arrived, Zelda reportedly climbed up to the very tippy-top to get a look around, but the waves were too big and the moon too obscured by clouds. There are some waterfronts in Treasure Hunting Dome. There are plenty of challenges to be completed involving the water. But it doesn’t have anything like this. Elise knows that because Rage made them memorize as much of the layout of the dome as is publicly available. You need space to make the kind of storm and angry sea that they’re dealing with right now, and where they were before simply doesn’t have it. But two domes have exactly that. One is called Polar Tropica. It’s a gargantuan resort. The other...is Aquilonian Deep.
Miracle must not have been lying. Time travel is real, and they just came out of a portal. They didn’t simply jump into the fountain and sink to another level of Treasure Hunting Dome, or even the next dome over. They were sent halfway across the planet in the short amount of time they could hold their breaths. Now anything’s possible.
The seven of them take turns standing up while everyone else holds onto the sides. They are able to yell a few things at each other, but it’s too loud to have full on conversations. Elise explains that she stayed behind to try to convince the other hunter to come with them. Zelda confirms the time travel when she explains that she was here alone for a few minutes before the next person bobbed up. Each time someone new appeared, they reported that only seconds separated them at the fountain, even though minutes passed for those already here. They ultimately waited almost an hour before Elise came. When she asked them how they knew she was there in the first place, they said lightning would strike the spot where they were just about to come up. But Elise knows the truth. The lightning wasn’t marking the spot. They were riding the lightning.
The storm passes, and the sun rises in the sky, no doubt programmed or controlled by Hrockas or his Custodians. They’re dead tired, but still alive, and everyone here still wants to fight. This whole time, ever since the locker room, no one has brought up the fact that only one person can win. What’s the point? Except for one person now, they’re all friends. And the Bidan, Laise Ter Avest, is quickly becoming part of the team too. Whatever the prize is, they can surely share it one way or another. It doesn’t help to become cutthroat now, especially not since it will take all of them to survive this.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Laise says. “I’ve been trying to remember the stories I was told from my home planet. I lived in a particularly advanced region, but many others were intentionally rustic. Some had boats like whatever we’re on top of right now. They never sank, because while they looked antiquated, the underlying structure was more modern. But I used to date one guy who grew up on one of these ships, and he talked about the real past—I’m giving you way too much background. I’m saying they had ways to lift sunken boats. It wasn’t easy, but it didn’t require gizmos or gadgets either. But we do need a lot of barrels, and even more patience.”
Without even asking for Laise to elaborate, Zelda volunteers to dive down to see how many barrels the boat has, if any. They don’t know this woman yet, but they trust that she wants to survive as much as they do, even if she has stopped caring about winning. Elise volunteers to go down too, because while she never had the chance to learn to sail, she absolutely knows how to freedive. It was one of the first things she practiced when she came to this planet. They search all over, but only find twenty.
“That’s not enough,” Laise says, shaking her head. “You said there were cannons down there too? That’s not enough. We would need at least twice that.”
“What if we got rid of the cannons,” Colley suggests. “While we’re at it, get rid of the chains and the big metal grate thing. Take out everything unnecessary.”
“I am not good enough at math to know whether that would work,” Laise admits. “The guy said forty. I guess I don’t really know what kind of boat he was talking about.”
“What exactly do we do with these barrels?” Rage asks her.
Laise sighs. “We attach them to the bottom of the boat, and then we pump the water out. Once they’re all filled with air, they should lift the boat out of the water.”
They stare at her like they can’t believe their ears. It sounds insane, and insanely grueling. Elise saw where they are, though. They’re sitting on the edge of a sea shelf, and there is no other land in sight. Their only hope is to get this bucket out of the water so they can stand. They’ll figure out how to move it after that. If this doesn’t work, they could die from exposure. But not starvation or scurvy. The barrels are evidently filled with fruit. There’s no drinking water, though, so they take a vote. Either they go for it, or let themselves die just to escape and give up. It’s unanimous.

Monday, August 10, 2026

Microstory 2731: The Choices We Make

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Pribadium!Two offered to explain to Sora what happened to his alternate self, but he decided that he didn’t want to hear it, at least not right now. They all three split apart, and went to their separate corners. They need to decompress from everything going on, and process all the new information. If they miss their window to create a mobile pocket universe, then so be it. It was never going to be an instantaneous endeavor, and it’s prudent to wait a bit anyway. This is a huge undertaking, which will have massive ramifications in this universe, and who knows how many others?
Pribadium!One is lying in her equilibrium chamber now, thinking about Sora. When they first met, he was a clear opponent. She was trying to get him to calm down and see reason, but she never thought she would feel bad for him like this. The story he told about his crush on Proxima Doma was heartbreaking. She teased him with the chance to get some closure, and then about immediately took it away from him. It wasn’t fair, and she’s going to have to figure out a way to apologize for it, besides simply literally saying the words. He obviously needs some space right now, though.
A door alert. It’s Sora. When she commands the AI to open the door, he walks in. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping. I can come back later.”
“No, it’s okay.” Pribadium!One stands up and hangs there mid-air.
His eyes widen. “How are you doing that? I thought antigravity was impossible.”
She lowers her legs one by one like she is climbing down a ladder, towards what’s considered down. “It’s not really antigravity, per se. Though, I suppose we could make that happen too if I figure out how to contain quintessence. I have some friends who built a machine that uses it, but it was awkward between us, so I never got the chance to study it in depth. Anyway, no, this is an equilibrium chamber. Another friend of mine developed it, and now they use it extensively on Varkas Reflex. People stay in simulated environments for years on end. This perfectly distributes the pressure on your body, so you don’t suffer the negative health effects of extended immobility.”
Sora stares at the apparatus, curious enough, but obviously not really thinking about it. Their goals are unaligned, and one of them might have to relent one day.
It’s not just about him, though. He’s not the only person they have to worry about. Thousands of colonists who just so happened to be on this side of the host star have the right to decide what to do with their own lives too. She’s just glad that most people escaped the bubble. She placed her lab away from the activity even though it placed her in the line of fire of the upcoming obliteration blast, because she knows exactly when it will arrive, and has ways of avoiding it. Now that doesn’t matter anymore. “Did you want to talk about something?” she asks as she’s stepping out.
“I don’t need to talk to Elke,” he answers. “Before you say anything, I realized that she made her choice. Whatever her reasons, I wasn’t worth sticking around for. We knew each other for years. Her suicide took years, but she never gave up. If she survived it—if she didn’t end up killing herself again on the other side, then that still has nothing to do with me. It never did. So you two go ahead and do whatever you need to do with the weird universe thing. I’m not much help, but I’ll be here. I’ll support you.”
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with what she said about us?”
“About how we were together in another timeline? No. This is my choice.”
“Okay,” Pribadium!One says. “I’ll speak to my alternate self in the morning.”

Tuesday, August 4, 2026

Microstory 2727: False Convictions

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Sora stares at Pribadium for a moment. “We can’t use your machine to go back in time to stop the Teaguardians from destroying the world, but we can do it to visit my dead friend?” He shakes his head at the apparent contradiction.
“We don’t need a time machine for that,” Pribadium!One notes. “Do you remember how she was talking about other universes; how ours crashed into another?”
“Yes,” Sora confirms.
“I don’t know what universe that would have been,” Pribadium!One begins, “but it’s not the only one—not by a long shot. In fact, a couple of them are our siblings. One of these universes, which are known as branes, was named Fort Underhill. Its, uhh...” She hesitates. She’s not really supposed to talk about this stuff to the humans. That’s an antiquated word, but it just refers to people who don’t know about things like temporal manipulation or psychic abilities. But that ship has sailed, so she might as well go for it. “Fort Underhill is where you go when you die. Actually, you go to a virtual simulation first, but at some point, you get moved to the other brane, which is in base reality.”
Sora stares at her again, narrowing his eyes. “Who goes to this place when they die? Your mind? Immortals like Tertius Valerias and Aeterna Valeria?”
“No, everybody,” Pribadium!One clarifies. She sighs. “You may think you’re undigitized, but you’re not. You were born this way. I can’t explain the biology, I never got much into it, but it’s part of how humans are. We’ve been this way for millennia.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No! No, it’s not true. If humans have always been digitized, we would know. We would have to.”
“I think we kind of did,” Pribadium!One says. “I don’t know how well you know your history, but when researchers were first trying to figure out how to do it, they made a quantum leap in progress. It was the most apropos use of that term ever. It was when they proved that consciousness existed in the quantum realm, and I think this is why.”
Sora stands, and starts to pace out of frustration. “So my convictions—my refusal to become like all of you—they mean nothing? I can’t die anyway? Elke isn’t dead?”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she explains. “That was some time ago, and I believe there is a way to die for good in Fort Underhill, but that would be a choice.”
“Yet you have some unique way of contacting the dead?” Sora scoffs.
“I know people in high places.” She’s friends with the people who are responsible for it, but she has never told them that she found a way to access it. She kind of thought they might find out eventually, and when time travel is involved, eventually is synonymous with always. They have never brought it up, though she has had to use it on occasion. There was one time where a man from Castlebourne asked her to reunite an undigitized friend of his with her dead parents. They evidently gave her advice, and now that woman is an immortal flying superhero. So she doesn’t take this for granted.
“It won’t work,” Pribadium!Two says. She’s opening the medical pod, and slowly making her way out of it. “As I told you, this is a parallel reality. Your interversal communicator was calibrated to the main sequence.”
“Good point,” Pribadium!One says. “That would prove if you’re telling the truth.”
“If?” Pribadium!Two questions. “I definitely am.”
“Well, we’ll see about that.” Pribadium!One walks over to the communicator.
Pribadium!Two violently grabs her wrist. “If you try, I’ll have to kill you.”

Monday, August 3, 2026

Microstory 2726: Calm, Patient, and Empathetic

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
The alternate version of Pribadium was exhausted, dirty, and hurt. She never got a chance to explain exactly what she went through, and how she came to be in this reality. The Pribadium from this reality put her in a medical pod to recuperate. While she fell asleep, it cleaned her up, treated her injuries, and kept her relaxed.
Pribadium!One has been sitting next to her for the last hour, thinking about what happened. Concurrent realities can exist. That’s how it worked when there were five parallels, before most were destroyed in 2400. But that’s just it—still no one seems to know what caused them to collapse. Keeping this one may prove to be a real problem.
“Can she hear us?” Sora asks in a whisper, sitting down next to Pribadium!One.
“No,” Pribadium!One explains. She eyes him curiously. “You’re a befuddling man, Mr. Shimizu. When we first met, I would have been in the right to call you an asshole, but now you’re calm, patient, and dare I say, empathetic. What changed?”
“Nothing changed; not really,” he says. “I get this way when I’m tired. I’m always so antsy and anxious, but I eventually run out of energy, so I kind of shut down. Plus, you remind me of someone I once knew.” He points to Pribadium!Two. “She reminds me of her even more, with her tattered clothes and worn face. No offense.”
“None taken. She’ll recover.” She pauses. “Have you tried always being nice?”
“Well, sure. When something makes me angry, I try to let it go. I’ve tried everything, short of medical intervention, which I don’t want to do. There was a span of a few years where I intentionally kept myself fatigued so I would be more likeable. I was told it wasn’t healthy for me, so it’s just a trade off. I can be nice or alert, but not both.”
“Is it the woman you wear that scarf for?” she asks. “Is that who the other Pribadium reminds you of, and who told you to be more healthy?”
Sora smiles. “You caught me. I don’t like to talk about it, because it’s...”
“You can be honest,” Pribadium!One encourages. “You can be vulnerable.”
“It was unrequited. I was in love with her, but not she with me. A lot of us Proxima Domanians, you know, are mortals. Organic, undigitized, and bound for death. Many think that it’s crazy. If you could live forever, why wouldn’t you want to? I was probably going to make the transition eventually, but I guess I wanted to test myself first. Our ancestors never had that choice. You lived, you died; that was it. I wanted to see if I could make it, and if I didn’t, then maybe I didn’t deserve it. But anyway, since I grew up with people more like me, that’s mostly all I knew. Until she moved in. I was in my twenties, and so was she...or at least that’s what I thought. I think she was 428 years old the last time I saw her. It made me angry. She looked like a peer, but she saw me as a child. No, she saw me as an ant. But, ya know, one of those friendly ants who you can hang out with. That is what we did, and I fell in love with her a little more every day.”
“What happened to her?” Pribadium!One asks. “You act like she died, but...”
“She did. That stream-blocking tech I used on you? It was hers. She came up with it herself. I didn’t know why until it was too late. Before we met, she systematically murdered every single one of her clones. She was on Doma to kill herself. She spent all that time, secretly under the signal jammer, so even if she was backed up somewhere, it would have been woefully out of date. Then one day, after years of watching me pine after her, she kissed me, went into the bathroom, and slit her wrists.”
Pribadium!One nods and sighs respectfully. “Do you want to see her again?”

Saturday, July 25, 2026

Extremus: Year 136

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Sable finally feels like she’s in the club. She thought she had pretty much all of the pieces of the puzzle, but she had no idea how much she was missing. Now it all makes sense; why Silveon and Audrey act and acted the way they do and did, the kind of relationship Admiral Leithe had with Waldemar. She knows that she still doesn’t know everything. There would be too much to learn about the first timeline, and she doesn’t need it anyway. She knows what Waldemar is like now, and she can act on it.
She has decided to marry him. She knows that Audrey already tried that, but that was apparently more to protect innocent women from falling into his orbit. That was noble, but that’s not a problem anymore. Waldemar has gotten what he needed by being a family man. Good or bad, he maintains his popularity on his own merits. It sounds like Audrey was simply too passive. She evidently tried to coddle Waldemar, and long-con him into thinking that everything she wanted him to do was his idea. It seems to have helped, but it was clearly not enough. Sable has an advantage. She has real power, and she is willing to use it. It will have to wait, though. She is spending time with her mom.
The doorbell rings, which is weird, because it doesn’t normally do that at this time. In fact, it never has at all. She must have made some minor change to reality without realizing it. She is so focused on reliving these moments that she doesn’t always pay attention to the butterfly effect. She doesn’t bother with the camera. She just instructs the AI to open the door, only to find a complete stranger on the other side of it.
“Miss Keen.” The middle-aged woman walks in. “How are you doing?”
“I’m just watching my mother...wither away,” Sable replies. “Who are you?”
The stranger nods. “A fellow traveler. The difference is, I can’t control it. I’m here to ask you to move forward. I know it’s hard, which is why I’ve given you your space, but girl...it’s been months. This isn’t healthy. Now, I don’t want you to hurt me because I say that. I just want you to ask yourself whether she would want you to keep reliving this day over and over again, or live your life. I’m sincerely asking. I never met her.”
Sable frowns and looks down at her mom. This is the part of the day where she’s still alive, but has become unresponsive, so the conversation is over. She doesn’t know if Lataran can hear her, but she usually keeps talking anyway, even though no matter what, Lataran won’t remember it when time resets. She looks back at the woman. “How did you hijack my rewind? No one should remember the groundhog repeats.”
“I didn’t hijack anything. I’m a choosing one, like you. It’s just something that happens to me. I remember all timelines. As I was saying, you’re in control here. ”
Sable doesn’t say anything. She just sighs and looks back at her mom.
“They made a movie about this. Not the one you’re thinking of; it more closely resembles what you’re actually doing, but unlike that character, you can turn it off whenever you want, and...every time you refuse, you die.”
“That’s how this power works. I can only rewind upon death.”
“I know,” the woman says. “That wasn’t hard to parse. I have witnessed many of your suicides. You like to do them public so you can see the looks on people’s faces. That is not healthy either.” She holds out her hand as if Sable is meant to take it. “Come on. Let’s enjoy a nice walk in the Attic Forest, and wait for tomorrow to come.”
Sable stares at the intruder’s hand. “What happens if I kill you instead?”
“I wouldn’t know. I try to stay alive, as I always have,” she replies.
Sable stands, and steps forward menacingly. “I do like to learn new things.” She pulls out her knife. “Hold still. I’ll make it quick.”

Wednesday, July 1, 2026

Microstory 2703: Miscommunication by Evasion

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Ronan cries foul. He doesn’t care about the rules. He doesn’t care if this is a separate issue entirely. When he first exited the Nordome Network to deal with this Talus problem, he looked Mayumi up. They have a protocol for this. She has a contact card. He should have been able to get a hold of her. He’s been too wrapped up in the trial that he hasn’t worked too terribly hard, and he certainly didn’t file a restraining order, but if she had entered another simulation, she should have left a message for him. That was what they agreed upon, and she knew that. She obviously didn’t die permanently, or something, or she wouldn’t be here now. He demands that she tell him where she’s been, and why she didn’t make sure to leave a trail for him.
“I wanted out,” Mayumi explained. “I never wanted the Norse experience as much as you did, and honestly, I was sick of us.”
“You could have just talked to me,” Ronan reasons.
“I couldn’t. I tried. Not in so many words, but I did try to work on us, and you just kept pretending that everything was fine. That just made it worse.”
“So, what, you killed yourself? Or did you just capitalize on the opportunity.”
“I installed a suicide inducer,” Mayumi explains. “I just jumped to a new body.”
“That’s enough,” the court agent says. “We’ll let the adjudicator decide what happens here. She’ll know if any of this is relevant, or if they need to change anything.”
They spoke with the adjudicator. As it turned out, Mayumi was indeed rather difficult to find, even for Castlebourne. Smartdust only gets you so far, and it’s possible to hide out in certain dark corners, if only for a little while. The judge is very interested in understanding what Mayumi did, and only grows more interested when Mayumi is rather evasive about it. She abandoned her child, which the adjudicator sort of knew already, but what she didn’t know was that Ronan was not cognizant of her whereabouts, or her apparent attempt to hide. “Where were you?” she pressed.
“I was home,” Mayumi finally clarifies. “I was in my new home. We were in the outer lands, in a small dome which my new husband built for us.” This planet is inhospitable, except in the domes, and the outer lands refers to any space outside of those. You can’t just go and build your own dome, though. When the adjudicator points that out, Mayumi continues to evade, until she finally lets slip, “Talus has experience working with diamond. It’s really not that hard, as long as you find a place. We’re not the only ones.”
The adjudicator is shocked by this. The trial will have to be placed on hold while they run this new investigation.
Ronan doesn’t care about that. This is personal. If the simulation that Ronan is trying to get back to were real, he would have the right to kill the lover, and divorce and disgrace his wife. Is that why she lied, because he’s so fixated on the culture that she thought he would exact revenge? He’s more enlightened than that. He went under the dome for the experience, not because he genuinely wishes he had been born a thousand years ago. There are some lines that he won’t cross, game or no—backup substrates or no. He also straight up doesn’t feel the same way about infidelity as his character might. He doesn’t want to be with anyone who doesn’t want to be with him. All she had to do was be honest, about the whole damn thing. What an idiot. What an absolute incomparable moron. How did he ever see anything in her, and why did he waste so much time keeping them together?
He takes a deep breath, and focuses on Gia, and his whole real family. Vith and Isavet need him, so he needs to leave. But wait. If she’s been with Talus the whole time...who has he been raising for the better part of a decade?

Thursday, June 18, 2026

Microstory 2694: Little Cheater

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Ronan is distraught and overwhelmed. He has two kids to take care of now, and he’s all alone. Vith is old enough to help, but not old enough to be a true partner. He’s not breaking character. He’s supposed to be a child, so that’s how he’s acting. Ronan commends him for the commitment, and appreciates it. That’s what he would do in his situation. That is what he’s doing, in his own way. Mayumi was supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to die. She certainly wasn’t supposed to die after less than a year. But that’s how real life works, so she has stayed away in order for the simulation to feel more real. That’s what they agreed to do, and she’s not a liar.
They actually talked about it at length. They made a pact before all of this that if one of them died, the other would continue on in the simulation. It was only a hypothetical at that point, but he wants to honor her by following through with it. It’s probably why she never came back. It would not make sense for him to leave, and have her be upset that he broke her trust. They have been together for centuries. A few decades will be hard, but in the real world, there’s no escape. If someone you love dies, you either end your own life, or try to move on. Suicide is not an honorable death, and would harm her memory. It wasn’t worth it. They would see each other again.
Hopefully she was having fun in their second choice dome. Dome for Pioneers doesn’t have the same cultural adventure that they were looking forward to, and it didn’t sound like it would be quite as immersive, but they thought about visiting. They considered going there first to dip their toes in the water, so to speak. In the end, they decided to jump into the deep end head first, and this is what it has cost them. Ronan is struggling to feed his boys. His only saving grace is that a few months ago, they found two baby goats, and had the good sense to keep them both alive, even though it meant taking food out of their own mouths. Now, though, the mama goat has kids, and the daddy has become worth more dead. They needed her milk, and his horn and meat.
He slaughtered the father earlier, and cut off its horn. Then he stole some milk away from the kids, and filled the horn so he could use it to feed his human baby. Once little Talus was happy for the next hour, he went to work on preparing the goat meat. He was going to cook some of it, then smoke the rest so they could save it for later. This was always part of the plan. They had hoped to wait until they could have at least one more litter to keep the bloodline going, but that is tomorrow’s problem. He slices into the animal, and hits something hard. It doesn’t feel like bone. It clinks like metal. He pulls the flesh apart, and is horrified at what he finds.
“What is that?” Vith asks.
“That, son, is a robo-goat. I was not aware.” Ronan looks up and breathes. “I suppose some of the laws here do resemble what they have in the Core. They don’t kill to eat anymore. This is all part of the simulation.” He looks outside. “Those kid goats are never gonna grow. They never have grown since they were born. They are simply being systematically replaced every once in a while. Which means...” He trails off.
“What does it mean, father?” Vith presses.
“The milk has to be resupplied at some point. It certainly doesn’t get it from the vegetation we feed it. We can keep all the food for ourselves, instead of giving it to the goats. All of the milk can go to Talus.” Is that cheating?
It apparently is cheating. It doesn’t work. They run out of milk.

Friday, June 12, 2026

Microstory 2690: Forbidden Science

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Ronan Truett sits on the exam table, wearing what he calls a gasmask, but the doctor called it something else. It is quite literally freezing cold on his face, but he doesn’t mind it. It isn’t going to be the hardest thing he will ever do over the course of the next few decades. After the twenty minutes are up, the doctor comes back and removes it. “How does it look?” he asks.
“Good. How does it feel?” the doctor volleys.
Ronan rubs the new beard on his chin. “Like a thousand tiny cuts.”
The doctor dismisses it with his facial expression. “That’ll go away in a few minutes. Would you like me to hot press and discolor it? I can make it unkempt and wild, so you look more rough and tumble.”
“Actually, historical Norsemen were quite well-groomed. A long and well-styled beard was the sign of a masculine and respectable man back then. Pay no attention to the inaccurate old movies you may have seen. They didn’t wear horned helmets either, if that’s what you’re picturing.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about it.”
“It’s not in your internal database? Can you access the central archives remotely?” Ronan presses.
The doctor chuckles. “My brain doesn’t do that. I’m not an android, but one of those virtually immortal organics. I change substrates when I need to, like you, but I don’t have cybernetic connections.”
Ronan is surprised and impressed.
The doctor seems to sense this. “I just like medicine, so they let me do the simpler procedures, like your hair follicle stimulation. I wouldn’t be allowed to conduct any major surgeries. Castlebourne follows the same laws that Earth does in that regard.”
“I see,” Ronan says as he’s admiring his new appearance in the mirror. He’s never been one for facial hair, but he’s about to become a Norseman, so he wanted to look the part, and really immerse himself in the simulation. He’s not the only one. “So that’s why you’re not doing the foetal consciousness transfer for my wife.”
This gives the doctor pause. “I’m sorry? Foetal?”
“Oh, she’s not going to transfer herself to a foetus. She’s going to carry the foetus, and have the baby in the simulation.”
The doctor is still confused by this, and also now speechless.
“I assure you, it’s perfectly legal. We’re well within the Charter Cloud—”
“I’m aware of how the law works on this planet, Mister Truett. I’ve probably lived here longer than you. I know that foetal transference is possible, and I’m not surprised it’s legal. I’m surprised anyone would actually ever do it. There’s a reason it is illegal in the Core Worlds. We don’t know what it would do to a person, regressing to a prenatal state, or even early developmental, with all that neuroplasticity. What impact does that have on a person’s psyche, when their brains rewire themselves so drastically? Can you even have a continuity of consciousness when you let that happen? Is it not just an elaborate form of death? Suicide, that is?”
“Well, we’ll see,” Ronan says as he’s putting his shirt back on. He needed a little chest hair too. That is designed to take longer, which is fine. “My friend has fully consented to it.”
“He’s your friend?” the doctor questions. “I’m not sure if it’s weirder that he’s not your wife’s biological son already, or if it would be more awkward if he were.”
“Pretty judgy for a medical professional. A bot doctor would never say that.”
He shrugs. “You could have designed a substrate to develop facial and body hair during the gestation process, but you chose to come to me. Most people like my blunt attitude, specifically because they can’t get it from a bot doctor, unless it’s their personal model. But you’re right, I’ll zip my mouth. There’s the door, have a good immersion.”
Ronan leaves the exam room, and heads down to the other floor where his wife and friend are sitting up next to each other in their respective gurneys.
“Oh, you look great,” Mayumi reaches up towards his face with a dumb look on her own. “Fluffy.” She actually looks and sounds intoxicated. Her gown is on backwards.
“She’s on drugs for the implantation procedure,” their friend and future son, Talus explains. “I am not. I have to be sharp before I become a baby again.”
Mayumi smiles over at Talus. “You’re gonna love my uterus. We play hip-hop on Tuesdays.”
“Not anymore, we don’t,” Ronan points out. “It’s all lyres and flutes for us for the next thirty years. We’ll play the lyre for you while you’re baking in there, son.”
“You don’t know how.”
“I’ll have plenty of time to learn.”
“When you’re not off a-viking,” Talus reminds him.
“Maybe even then.” Ronan cracks his knuckles. “I’m sure I could break heads and carry a tune at the same time.”
“I don’t think I have a head anymore,” Mayumi says.
A new doctor walks in—a proper bot this time. He hands Talus a tablet. “Okay, the mother has already finished her consent forms, but here’s the last one for you, Mister Sauter. This one personally absolves Hrockas Steward from any liability in the event that the results of this procedure render you neurologically damaged, physically defective in your new substrate, or philosophically deceased and replaced. It is the same waiver you signed before, but the owner wanted you to sign a separate one for him.”
“Sounds good to me,” Talus agrees. He signs without hesitating. He has thought about this for a very long time. They did not do this on a whim.
Ronan must admit, this is a crazy idea, and yes, there is a reason it has never been done before. What comes out of Mayumi nine months from now may not be Talus at all. It may be an entirely different person; new memories, new personality, new everything. It could mean that this Talus right here is dead. He deliberately didn’t make a copy of his mind as backup, since that wouldn’t really be him either, since it would already have been outdated by hours at best. This might very well mark the end of Talus Sauter, and they won’t really have an idea for another ten years maybe? But it’s what he wants, it’s what Mayumi wants, and while his opinion doesn’t technically matter here, it’s what Ronan wants too. He is going to raise his best friend in a simulation of Scandinavia in the first millennium, and he couldn’t be more excited. He kisses them both, then leaves for the waiting room so they can move forward.
An hour later, Mayumi wheels out alone. She smiles at him. “Great news, husband. I am no longer light.”
“Okay,” Ronan says, clapping his hands. “Let’s go to Danmörk.”

Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Microstory 2687: Then She Winks

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
The eruption is pretty cool, though probably less spectacular than if they let it spew everything all over the place. The two of them watch it for a few minutes, but Resi isn’t paying that much attention to the glory. It’s not what’s really on his mind. “Are you my sister?” he asks the woman quietly.
“Yes,” Kala replies. “I’ve been alive for over a hundred years now.”
“So you chose Kinkon.”
“I told you, we don’t do things that way anymore. There’s no sorting. The people who live on this island live simply, but they don’t do much work. They do some, to be sure, but most of it’s automated. It blends into the background, you don’t even notice it. There are some androids, which perform more of the front end labor, so they just look like regular people. This is still a very natural environment, and what can’t remain perfectly natural is simulated. If you take issue with it, getting your full memories back might help. Understanding where you came from, long before Yana, might give you some perspective. I don’t know how you feel about it, though.”
“What about everyone else I knew? Our parents, our siblings? My Fold, my House? Is everyone still alive? Did they all choose this route?”
“Not everyone, everyone,” Kala answers. “But most people did, yes. They decided that that’s what you were trying to do for them. Your legacy lived on after you. In terms of specifics, Caprice is still here, as is our sister. Chaya moved to Castlebourne, and I think our brother did too, but he may have gone somewhere else instead. Arumay moved to Varkas Reflex, and uploaded herself to a virtual environment, so she doesn’t have a physical body anymore. Our parents chose to remain as they were, so they’re long dead. I think that’s pretty much it, I don’t remember anyone else.”
“Kartica,” Resi says. “A.K.A. Speaker Lincoln. What happened to her?”
Kala frowns. “She died next to you a hundred years ago. Her consciousness was no longer streaming to the network, so she couldn’t be revived. She saved us in the near-term. Her sacrifice was just as impactful as yours. The Assembly letting her die was a major crime. There are laws that prevent you from being reckless with disposable bodies, especially those you don’t own. But murder? Straight up murder, where there is no coming back; that is still the big one. The colonial establishment couldn’t let it slide, even though they were part of a different network. The culprits were all locked up, and I lost track of them, but the important thing is they lost all of their power.”
“Wait, father was like us. He was backed up. Why is he dead now?”
“He could be backed up,” Kala corrects. “He fell in love with our mother, so he cut his own consciousness stream, and chose to let his body die, and with it, his mind. The laws surrounding that are complex and nuanced, but suicide is not illegal, as long as they prove that’s what it is, and not a complicated form of homicide.”
“I wish I could apologize now, for everything,” Resi admits. ‘To everyone.”
“This is why we live the way that we do. What father did was a choice. When I was a kid, there was no choice. I was going to die, that was just it. Whether you realized it or not, that is what you were fighting for; the freedom to choose our own destinies. The Houses were stopping us from that, and we’re grateful they’re gone.”
“I’m happy for you, but I don’t know what I want to do now...what to choose.”
“Why don’t you sleep on it?” Kala suggests. Then she winks.

Tuesday, June 2, 2026

Microstory 2682: Seeing The Whole Thing

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash
Resi can see the future, there is no longer any doubt in his heart about that. The problem is that, no matter how hard he tries, he has been unable to return to the vision he twice had of the eruption of Central Mountain. Brooke has her special techy spaceship, which she used to study the volcano, which said that nothing about it suggests it’s going to become active anytime soon. That is more worrisome than anything, because if Brooke is right, and Resi is also right, then something insane and unpredictable is going to happen that changes the equation. The trick is determining what that might be, and Resi thinks he may know why the answer isn’t coming to him. As of now, all of his predictions are sourced from past and present data. They’re still supernatural, for lack of a better term, but he’s not just randomly pulling information that doesn’t exist yet. He has to anchor it to something that is real. He doesn’t have to be physically touching an object to know what’s going to become of it, but it sure helps.
The fact is, Resi has nothing been very close to the mountain before. It just hasn’t been a meaningful aspect of his life. The higher you go, the less arable the land is. He’s not one for backpacking. Some class projects have involved hiking it, or even climbing all the way to the summit, but he never ended up doing that. That seems to be something that has to happen now. Brooke offered him a ride to the top, but that might not be enough. What if the problem happens lower down, and just causes the eruption up top? What if there are clues along the way? She pointed out that there is too much acreage to cover, and he agreed, but he has to start somewhere, and it can’t be at the end. That’s what’s blocking his understanding of this terrible future. He keeps trying to skip to the end. Of course, that’s what it sounds like fortune-telling is, but again, he doesn’t think he can just tap a future date, and jump to it. He thinks he has to fast-forward. He doesn’t have to sit through it all in real time, but he does have to see it all. So he’s going on a trek. He’s finally going to see what all the fuss is about.
Brooke is gone now. She has other things to do with her life outside of Yana, and outside of Bungula. She charges him to keep quiet about what he learned about her, which will not be hard, because she hardly told him anything. He’s not going to be alone, though. Caprice and Chaya are both coming. They don’t think that they’re going to have any apocalyptic visions, too, but they want to help, and it’s safer for him to not be alone. If something bad happens, someone may need to call for rescue. They’re only a few kilometers into the journey. They’ve not even reached the switchbacks yet when Chaya informs them that someone has been following them the whole time.
“Okay!” Resi says quite loudly. “Spread out! Shoot anyone but each other!”
“No! Don’t do that!” Kartica comes out with her arms up.
“I was never going to. Don’t you know me yet?” Resi questions.
“I dunno, you may have changed, man,” Kartica points out.
“Why are you here?” Resi presses. “You weren’t invited.
“I know, but you need me. You’re going the wrong way.”
Caprice looks up. “I think we can see where the mountain is.”
“Yes, you’re going towards the mountain, and you’ll even be on a trail, but it won’t be the right trail,” Kartica insists. “The mountain...is basically a cone. If you’re trying to see the whole thing, the switchbacks will only keep you to one side of it.”
“What makes you think we’re trying to see the whole thing?” Resi asks her.
“Please.” Kartica is offended. “I’ve not taken my eye off of you since we met. I can show you where to go. It will give you a clearer picture. I want this more than anyone. I want it more than you. You were hesitant before, when I begged you to tell me what was going to happen. Don’t leave me out of it. Please.”
Resi stands there thinking about it. He takes a swig of his special medicine. It still isn’t curing him, but it’s treating his symptoms. It’s keeping him vertical. Unfortunately, he believes he may be experiencing diminishing returns, and it will stop doing anything at all, probably sooner than later. “Fine, you can help. But try not to commit suicide on the way, okay?”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Kartica claimed. “They locked me out of the respawn system. If I die, that’s it for me.”
Foreshadowing.

Tuesday, May 19, 2026

Microstory 2672: Allegiance

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
Resi demanded to speak with the Assembly, or whoever was trying to stop House Kutelin from exiling to Anchor Island. They refused, as always, but Zenith and the Bungulans were not happy about it. The purpose of this island is to facilitate movement and communication. Refusing to meet your opponent is the first sign of being on the wrong side. So Zenith pretty much forced it to happen. Since Speaker Lincoln committed suicide, she was replaced by the next in line. Sherman is now the interim Speaker, and will serve in this capacity until a new appointment can be made. He brought his granddaughter here for some reason. She is fifteen years old—having not yet gone through her Kidjum—and Resi has never heard of her before, but she looks familiar, like she showed up in a dream once recently, or something. That can’t be it, though. He hasn’t dreamed even once since his botched Kidjum. She really has no business being here, but he can’t argue against it. She looks at him like she knows something he doesn’t, which she surely does.
“Can we all be civil, or do I need to remain here to mediate?” Zenith asks.
“You may go,” Speaker Sherman tells her.
“You do not need to mediate,” Resi begins, like he’s going to agree. “But stay anyway. They are your guests. I would like you to see who they are.”
Zenith closes her eyes and bows slightly before taking a seat against the wall.
It’s important that Resi speaks first, so he can seize the upper hand. “Tell me. Where do you expect us to go? You won’t allow us to return to Yana, and you won’t let us live here. So what other options do we have? What do you want, or think we should do? Should we kill ourselves, like your coward of a former leader?”
Sherman isn’t pleased by his words, but his granddaughter has the strongest reaction. She doesn’t speak, though. “It may sound like a contradiction, but I assure you that it’s not. You may not stay on Yana. You may not live here on Anchor Island,” Speaker Sherman says.
“There’s nowhere else!” Resi cries. That was the wrong move. He has lost his advantage now. He needs to stay calm and in control. Let his enemy see no emotion. No one ever taught him that, it just makes sense.
Sherman is successfully managing to follow Resi’s internal advice, so it must be the right call, at least in theory. “I am not here to give you answers, or options, only restrictions. It is our job to manage the affairs of the Tamboran nation, and to engage with other cultures when necessary. House Kutelin is not a culture whose sovereignty we recognize. Therefore, there is nothing we can do for you.”
The other Fold Leaders begin to yell and argue against his ridiculous position. Resi motions for them to relax. “You may not think that you owe us anything, and the truth may be that you don’t. But if you don’t answer me, you will be the ones declaring war against House Kutelin, not the other way around. We do exist, and the other Houses know us. You may tear us down, and wipe us out, but your will lose your power over Tambora. The people will not stand by. You will lose your reëlections, and you will have accomplished nothing good. Is that what you want?”
Sherman only smiles. “I’ve told you, I’m not here to give you any answers. This conversation is over.” He looks over at Zenith. “I have fulfilled my promise. I gave him five minutes. Now we’re done. Please arrange my transport home. Resi and his people must leave within one day, and the rest of his House must leave Yana a week after that. If I find out you’ve been harboring any members of House Kutelin after that, the Accords will be broken, and you know what that means.”
“I do.” Zenith wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t going to go against him either.
No one on this planet has the authority to do anything. If that’s true, then maybe he should stop asking for what he needs. Maybe he should just take it.
Resi watches the Speaker and the Assembly walk out of the room. As she passes by, Sherman’s daughter flings something from her device to his. He doesn’t look at it until they’ve all left. It’s a note from her. She wants to meet on the rock beach. Alone.
Here it is. Here’s where the relative or assistant swoops in with a knowledge bomb, and our hero has to decide if she can be trusted or not. In half the movies, she can be, and in the other half, she can’t. If she can’t, and is still loyal to the villain, the hero seemingly takes her advice anyway, only for it to turn out that he knew the truth the whole time, and was playing the long game to dupe them both. There is no workaround for this trope. If you operate inside of the system, there is no way to beat that system. The reality of her loyalties, and the hero’s actions, are equally dictated by the needs of the story. This is real life, which means what he chooses here could result in failure, and even casualties. No author is trying to make it more interesting, or lead things down the right path.
“You’re not going alone,” Vantu insists. “You must be protected.” Vantu is a bit of a brute, but a very kind one, and very protective of anyone smaller or weaker. That’s usually not Resi himself, but he’s been particularly clingy on this trip due to the high stakes. Still, it won’t be necessary. Resi already has a plan.
“If they want to hurt me, there are easier ways to do it. A Bungulan-run island is the worst place to try something fishy. They got drones flying all over the place.”
“They only react so quickly,” Vantu argues, “and won’t be able to stop anything. Let me stay out of earshot, but in line of sight, so she knows she’s being monitored.”
“Really, it won’t be necessary, but I’ll let you walk with me,” Resi tells him.
He follows the girl’s directions, and heads towards the beach. He sees her standing there on the rocks, hair blowing in the wind. She’s changed her clothes into an asymmetrical shawl loosely wrapped around her waist, and what at this distance looks like a flower bikini top. She must think that he will listen to her because of it. He doesn’t advertise his asexuality but he doesn’t hide it either. If she’s done her homework, she’ll know that this won’t work. Or maybe she’s just hot. They are in the tropics, after all. He shouldn’t assume what her motivations are. He has no clue who she really is, or what she wants. He can’t trust her, though, that much is absolutely certain. She appears to be rather patient. She’s not folding her arms, or even shifting her weight between legs. She’s a statue, which may be telling him all he needs to know.
Resi looks over his own shoulder at Vantu, who nods, acknowledging that this is where he will remain so he doesn’t interfere with whatever is exchanged here. It doesn’t matter. Resi turns back at the stranger. He slowly draws his open hand up against his forehead in salute. Then he steadily swings it forward dramatically. If he could see her face from this distance, it would probably look confused. He doesn’t go up to see if he’s right. He just turns and walks away. The only way to win this game is to refuse to play.