Microstory 2661: Destratified

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Resi Brooks has feet of stone, and his legs are on fire. His torso sloshes around, spilling drops of water on the steaming ground. His headwinds pull upwards, trying to force him into the sky. He takes another step. His left leg begins to harden, but it doesn’t last long. The fire beats against his knees, and takes back over. That’s his mother, trying to bring him over to her side of the island. That would be okay. Any of the Houses, he would be proud to be in. He just doesn’t want to end up in Kinkon. His family would be so disappointed. He can feel the stars in his eyes. They’re a smaller part of him than they are for some. Many have willingly crossed the ocean, and joined the colonists and their descendants. And they have returned, bringing their new bloodline with them. He does not come from a family of bigots. He welcomes his brothers and sisters, and the strangers. He just does not want to become one of them. Kinkon isn’t a real House. It’s just what they call it when you don’t fit in anywhere else; when you embrace the colonial lifestyle. Again, there’s nothing wrong with it. He’s been known to partake in their technology, and enjoyed their media. They make good stuff. He would miss his loved ones too much, though. He would have to leave to learn their ways, and while his family members have completed their Mori journeys, and would be free to visit him, they wouldn’t. They like it here too much. God is the one who brought their ancestors here in the first place, and they want to stay close to Him. Of course, everyone knows that it was The Mirror, the Flyer, and the Bird who actually rescued them from the Ash Death, but they believe that he was working through them. They still thank him for this world.

Resi has been so much in his head this whole time, he didn’t even notice that the wind has begun to take over his body. It’s down to his shoulders now. It’s not strong enough to lift him from the ground, but it will happen soon if he’s not careful. But does he want to be careful? House Enaiyo would be a perfectly acceptable selection. He doesn’t have any family there, but his parents would be just as proud of him, and they’re not too terribly far away. It feels like this Kidjum is taking a long time. When he would watch the ceremony as a child, the sleepers would reawaken much faster than this. Perhaps that has all been an illusion. After all, when he’s just having a regular dream, time passes differently inside than on the outside. Still, he doesn’t want to be the last to wake up with his declaration. The others won’t tease him for it, but he doesn’t want the spotlight to be on him, and he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time. Kidjum ceremonies are boring for anyone who isn’t in it, or doesn’t personally know someone who is. He remembers that from childhood. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. The way they described what it was like to be in the dream sounded fascinating, but not something worth watching from the outside more than once. It’s only interesting now.

He wakes up. No warning, no final decision. He’s just awake, and it wasn’t even finished yet. The audience is clapping. Oh, no. He really is the last one. Oh, how embarrassing. He rolls over to see the cot next to him. The dreamer in it has not awoken yet. He sits up and looks around. No one else is awake. He’s not last? Why the hell are they clapping then? They’re gonna fall silent once he tells them that he never came to a decision. Does he have to pee? Why in the world did he wake up before his time! What is he supposed to choose? He never got his answer! The Kokore walks over, and reaches out to help him up. She has a huge smile upon her face. She guides him towards the audience, who are still clapping and cheering. They know more than Resi does. She holds his hand up triumphantly.

They cheer louder. Resi notices that the kids are clapping too, but they look just as confused as he is. Whatever this is, it must be something that you don’t learn until after your own Kidjum, which explains why he doesn’t understand why he’s being singled out when the other dreamers haven’t even opened their eyes yet.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in over 200 years,” the Kokore begins, “I give you a founding member of House Kutelin!”

House Kutelin? That’s not a thing. It just means five.

“Resi Brooks, First Tongue of Aether, you honor us with your presence.”

Aether? What the fuck is that?

Microstory 2657: Revealed

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Her team jogs up behind her as Mandica is frozen. Jaidia covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God.” They were told that Guinevere would be locked up in this tower, but they assumed that they would find her in a less-than-comfortable bed, and maybe—maybe—chained up. She’s chained up all right, but not in the usual way. One leg is shackled to a wall while the other is free. The same goes for her wrists on opposing sides. She’s lying on her side in an awkward position, next to a bucket with an obvious purpose. There’s a sink above her, but it doesn’t look like she can get to it. Water is dripping from a pipe underneath, forming a puddle in the chipped stone below. Her eyes are open, and she’s barely blinking, but she is, so she’s still alive.

Mandica knows right away what has happened. She has no proof, it could all be a lie, but this is what she is choosing to believe. Vanore never betrayed her. She never plucked out her eyes, or stabbed her in the chest. She has not been tormenting locals in Camelot and Greater Loegria. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been locked up here this whole time. The asshole running around as Morgana is a shapeshifter, using Vanore’s face as a default in order to sell a lie. It’s clever, she’ll give her that. They never knew if there was anyone in the world they could trust, but if they ever saw Vanore, they knew they couldn’t trust her. But that was foolish. Of course there was another layer. Mandica gets down on her knees and pulls one link in the chain apart while Jaidia gets down and does the same to free her leg. “What did she do to you?” Mandica asks, tearing up. She gently lifts Vanore’s head, and slides her crossed legs underneath it.

“She needs water,” Reagan notes. He finds a cup, and fills it with clean water.

“I’ve been drinking,” Vanore assures them but her voice is hoarse, so she’s not drinking enough, or it’s full of bacteria. Or both.

“Guys, I know this is important, but we gotta go,” Malika urges. “I have to tell you what I learned. I don’t know what Morgana is planning, but it’s bigger than we knew.”

Mandica is still crying softly as she’s running her fingers through Vanore’s hair. “I’m sorry I doubted you. We should have seen it. I should have seen the truth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanore replies. No, she wouldn’t.

“She’s talking about me.” It’s Morgana, standing in the doorway, still wearing Vanore’s face. She’s not upset at all, like all of this is going according to plan.

Scared to death, the real Vanore presses the back of her head against Mandica’s chest, trying to get as far from the witch as possible. “Who is that? Who the hell is that?”

“Oh, sorry. You’re used to seeing me like this.” Smoke billows out of Morgana’s cloak. Behind it, nanites begin to rearrange themselves. When the cloud fades, they see a man in her place. He removes the cloak, as well as the low-cut outfit underneath. He then peels a shirt from the cloak’s back lining, and puts it on for a more masculine look.

Mandica thought she may recognize his real face—if this is even finally that—but she doesn’t. It’s a guy. It’s just some random guy. “Let me guess. Just Morgan.”

My real name is Jiminy actually.

Mandica blinks deliberately. “What?! Like...the bug?”

“It started out as a nickname, but I’ve been using it for centuries; much longer than I had my original name, which I almost don’t remember.” He notices the team in defensive positions. “This didn’t go well for you last time. Nothing has changed. Except that face.” He waves his hand towards Jaidia.

Her facial hologram disappears, leaving her scar fully visible. She only covered it up when she came here so it didn’t draw attention from the locals. She’s not fazed.

Jiminy tilts his head. “Those aren’t as deep as they should be. Let me try again. He forms another cloud from his hands, but the particles are more sharply defined. They look vaguely like a sword. He drops it down, and slices through Jadia’s head, right were one of the slashes once was. Her body drops. “You next,” he says, looking at Malika.

Blue Wave extends her wings, just as Ravensgate Rescuer did earlier, except they are still less feathery, and more metallic. “I’m actually stronger this time.” She attacks.

Jiminy takes hold of the wings, and twists so they’re wrapped around Blue Wave’s body. He jams the sharp edges into her torso.

Malika falls to her back in front of Mandica, and begins to cough up blood. She turns her chin towards her friend. “He’s...” she struggles to say. “He’s in Underbelly a third of the time.” More blood, flying out like a geyser. “Loegria the other third. And—” She dies before she finishes her thought, but the math equation is easy enough to solve.

“Whoops,” Jiminy says. “You found out about that a little too early. Whatever.”

Reagan his holding his decoherence gun towards the enemy, but not shooting.

“Ahh. Not charged quite yet, is it? Yeah, that’s a big downside, but a small price to pay for full-on murder.” Jiminy takes a gun out from behind his back, which doesn’t look unlike Reagan’s. “Mine’s freshly juiced up. And bonus...” He trains it on Reagan. “I figured out how to propagate the backup signals. Dead is dead is dead is dead.”

Reagan’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he collapses.

“A neural suicide inducer?” Jiminy complains. “What a coward. Welp, I guess I’ll test it on your girlfriend.” She points the gun at Vanore now. “Move out of the way so I can get a clean shot. I’m not done with you yet. You’re the key to everything.”

Mandica lifts Vanore’s head up more, and gently pushes it behind her back so he has an even worse shot. “I don’t know why you think I would do such a thing.”

He sighs. “To make it easier on all of us.” He reaches over his shoulder, and quickly swings his arm forwards, sending a chained hook towards Mandica. It digs itself into her shoulder. He yanks it, pulling Mandica out of the way. Then he fires his weapon at Vanore, sending a blast of energy into her stomach. Satisfied, he points the gun towards the ceiling in a comfortable resting position. “The results will take time.”

Azad Petit literally appears out of nowhere. One second he’s not there, and the next, he is. It’s impossible. It breaks the laws of physics, it just does. But it’s a good thing he can do it. Without hesitating, he goes right for Reagan’s decoherence gun, and shoots Jiminy with it. Jiminy’s nanite bonds break, and he falls apart like a sand statue.

Mandica tears the hook from her flesh. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” She whimpers. She cups Vanore’s cheeks, trying to get some kind of reaction, but Vanore doesn’t move. Her heart is still. Her lungs are flat. The light in her eyes is gone. All of Mandica’s friends will come back to life, but if Jiminy wasn’t lying, Vanore cannot. Every copy of her has just been killed forever. Mandica lifts her head and screams as loud as she can. While still screaming, her back begins to burn. It’s hotter and more painful than ever before. Malika sits up quickly, and catches her breath. Reagan does too. And Jaidia? Well, she’s too far gone. But Mandica doesn’t care about that. She’ll be fine. She needs Vanore back. She stops screaming, and looks down at her love. “Please.”

Vanore breathes in.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 2, 2546

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Mirage and Ramses worked closely together. They had to design something that had never existed before; an onboard bulk energy weapon. A quintessence gun. The obvious choice was to reroute all that raw power from the slingdrive to the heat shunt. They were already halfway there—the hot pocket was made to pull in energy from the drive. The only difference was that it used to only be for waste heat, and now it had channel quintessence. As per usual, Ramses developed all of the procedures to make these changes by the end of the day, and then disappeared. When they returned a year later, it was done. “It’s all done?” Ramses questioned.

“All done,” Mirage confirmed. “The original planetary-scale black hole was pushed clear of the gravity well of Castlebourne’s recently moved-in solar system, so it shouldn’t cause any more issues for them. I made the new black hole about 690 light years from here, in the intergalactic void, where no one will bother it. Just in case, however, I left a buoy nearby with a copy of Thistle on it to monitor for any traffic within the next several billion years while there still might be some organics who need a certain threshold of gravity. I figured out how to switch the gravity regulators on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida and Varkas Reflex to the new source, so both planets have returned to normal gravity. The inhabitants are starting to delocalize again, though they seem to be a little gunshy about it since they still don’t know what happened.”

Members of Team Matic exchanged looks with one another. Once again, they had been rendered obsolete. Their apparent job now was to go in, spot a problem, then find someone else to fix it for them. Looking at the math, this should have always been their modus operandi, but they had already discussed all that. Leona nodded respectfully at Romana. “Okay. You’re up. Where do we go now, Navigator?”

Romana held her finger upwards and in front of her, as if showing the way to their new destination. “We’ll go,” she began melodramatically, “inside.” She disappeared.

Ramses turned back to Mirage. “Thank you for...” He trailed off before restarting, “well, I was going to thank you for your help, but I suppose I should thank you for letting me help.”

Mirage smiled sincerely. “You’ll figure out your place in this post-Edge universe. There are still some worlds that you have not returned to in a while.”

They said their brief goodbyes before teleporting into their interdimensional habitat. They had no reason to believe that anyone in Castledome would mess with their belts, but still, before Romana could give them a real answer, Leona activated burst mode. The whole stack rapidly jumped over and over again until they were at a safe distance from all others. She then sat down at her usual place on the circular couch. “Are we just taking a break?”

They all looked at Romana. Romana looked at Ramses. “What?” he asked.

“The thing,” Romana egged him on.

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ramses said.

“The big thing you were working on,” Romana said, still vaguely. “I think you called it Operation Starframe?”

“Oh,” Ramses said. “That’s just an idea. I wasn’t keeping it a secret, I was just weighing the pros and cons. I’m not sold on the utility of it.”

“The utility of what?” Marie asked.

“Well, Project Stargate and Operation Starseed left Gatewood before the reframe engine was invented. Well, it had technically been invented by then, but there was only one ship, and Team Keshida didn’t integrate the technology into the modules, even though time travel could have given them that. Anyway, at this point, those modules have not yet made it even 300 light years. Operation Starframe would realize that alternative, but...I was thinking...only for us.”

“No one called it Starframe specifically,” Leona began, “but we considered that possibility at the Edge meeting. Kestral and Ishida were neutral on the proposal, but we ended up voting against it. There was only so much we were willing to give the public, and that...that was just too much. Colonization should be a controlled effort, happening gradually, so you don’t end up with a bunch of Linwood Meyers out there. Statistically, some would end up building something abhorrent on the other side of the galaxy before anyone realized it.”

“You mean like an oppressive empire run by an immortal megalomaniac?” Olimpia offered.

“Yeah, just like that,” Leona agreed. “We hadn’t heard of the Oaksent at the time, but we were worried about the possibility.” She looked back over at Ramses. “But this would be just for us? For what?”

“Exactly on that last question,” Ramses agreed. “It would be to get us around the slingdrive’s main limitation. We can only sling to where there is already an established presence. A fleet of beacons would let us go anywhere, and we would only have to wait about seven months to cover the Milky Way. But why would we do that? What would we need that for? One secret place for us, maybe, I can see there being a benefit, or maybe a few sanctuaries, but we don’t need the whole galaxy. That’s why I’ve not brought it up. I’ve been trying to determine the mission statement.”

“Plus,” Mateo said, “once the colonists do end up on those worlds, they’ll be confused about why there’s already a competing quantum terminal in the system.”

Ramses shifted in his seat a little. “Well, we don’t need a terminal to reach it, and I don’t even think it needs to be that big. I still don’t know the threshold. What does a presence even mean? Could we leave a 20th century digital watch there to serve as the beacon? What if one of the Al-Amins was there with no technology at all? Could we map onto another person instead?”

“So let’s do that,” Romana suggested. “Let’s spend the rest of the day running those tests. Send a bunch of reframe probes in all different directions, at different distances. One will be carrying the watch. Another will have a smartphone. One can have, like, an electric car... And so on, and so forth. I guess we would be doing the tests next year, instead of today, but still, you could start today.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ramses countered. “We’ve still not figured out the point.”

“Options,” Leona said. “It gives us options. What if there’s a threat out there that’s below the threshold, so we can’t get to it, but it can get to us, or someone innocent? Or what if we learn that the beacon does have to be electronic, and can’t just be people, and an anti-tech cult of cannibals forms on a colony a thousand years from now, but they’re so remote, no one can get to them...except for us. Because we left a digital watch on their planet’s moon 700 years before that?”

“You want us to be the stewards of the galaxy?” Ramses pushed back.

“Well...guardians is taken.”

Ramses blinked a few times before taking a couple deep breaths. “All right,” he said with the enthusiasm of an entry level worker who didn’t want to lose his job, but also had his limits. “I’ll get started on it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Leona insisted. “This isn’t an order. I thought you wanted it, but you can reject the idea, or delay it, or whatever you need.”

“No, I want it, but it’s gonna take some time,” Ramses warned. “I don’t think it will be too much work for me—the automators should take care of the fabrication while we’re gone—but it took Team Keshida years to develop the original Project Stargate. To be fair, that was 300 years ago, but clanking replicators can’t break the laws of physics.”

“Take your time,” Mateo told him. “We’re all here for you, even if that means staying out of your way.”

Ramses returned to his lab to develop yet another project. The rest of the team was useless for the rest of the day. They didn’t have nearly enough reframe-capable vessels, and wouldn’t for another year, if that. Romana still wanted to sling somewhere.

“I have an idea of where we could go,” Mateo began, “but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”

“No, please, ideas welcomed,” his daughter encouraged.

“There’s an island back on Earth. I went there—well, I may have time traveled, so I don’t know when it was—but it had all sorts of fun things to do. Scuba diving, boating, parasailing, hiking, E-T-C. The whole thing was artificial, but looked natural; just perfect. They called it Star Island.”

“Yes, I heard about that,” Romana replied awkwardly. “Boyd, uhh...”

“He talked to you about it,” Mateo guessed. “It’s okay, I know that he changed from that time when we first met. I think you would like it there as much as I presume he did. There must have been some reason why he summoned us there, instead of literally anywhere else.”

“Then, if that’s what everybody wants,” Romana said, trailing off to wait for others to respond.

“This is your choice, remember?” Leona said.

“And I’m not a dictator, remember?” Romana volleyed.

Leona just smiled at her and nodded.

“Okay, we go to Star Island,” Romana decided, trying to be self-assertive and commanding.

While most of the group was transitioning to their swimsuits, Leona took the liberty of initializing the slingdrive array, jumping them all to Earth. Their belts were floating on the surface of the sea now, magnetically linked, but not in a stack. Ramses teleported out of his lab, into the common area. “Where did you just bring us?”

“Moku Hoku,” Romana answered him. “Have you heard of it?”

Ramses seemed annoyed. “I didn’t know we were gonna sling. I kind of needed the quintessence to conduct my work.”

“Oh, we didn’t think of that,” Romana said apologetically.

“It’s my fault, I should have known,” Leona contended.

“I’m the navigator,” Romana argued. “I’m responsible for this decision.”

Ramses breathed again. “No, it’s okay. I just need two of you to stay behind so I can run my tests somewhere remotely. Or we can have fun today, and delay the project.”

Leona walked up to Ramses. “Let’s delay it. You should enjoy yourself too. You have certainly earned the vacation. It’s gonna take a few centuries to get it done anyway, right? What’s one extra year?”

Ramses considered it before shaking his head, and walking away. Just as they were frowning, he spun back around, and transitioned to his own swimsuit. “Let’s show these hedonistic Earthans how to really cut loose!” They cheered in unison, and might have popped the champagne to get the party started if any of them drank.

They first teleported out into the water to make sure the belts were securely invisible, then left them floating around out there to go have fun on the island. They would come to regret their carelessness when three of them turned up missing at the end of the day.

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Microstory 2575: Renata Emerges from the Train, and Approaches the Confident Stranger

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Renata emerges from the train, and approaches the confident stranger. She looks him over, and then around the platform as the train races away to pick up new travelers. It looks just like any other station, except the stairs that should lead up to the surface are missing. Instead, a half-flight leads to what looks like a fairly open area. It’s lit by a soft green light. She can hear the activity of other workers, but it’s fairly quiet. “You hijacked my train.”

“No,” the man contends, “you stepped onto my train.”

“A hundred and eighth and Deliverer?”

“That’s just to get you on the right train. But enough about that.” He gestures for her to follow him up the steps. “I will not be telling you my name unless and until you pass the first test. Whether you expected it or not, your entry into this program is determined by a practical test, which you could not have studied for, unlike the written exam that got you here in the first place. We are a secretive organization, obviously, and we’re not going to trust you with those secrets until we find out what you’re made of. In the old days, we would have our candidates sit in a waiting room, where a contrived disaster would strike, and they would have to solve the problem in whatever way they thought was best. They were in no real danger, but they thought they were, so they acted accordingly. Of course, some failed, and some excelled. We’ve since changed tactics.”

“Changed tactics to what?” she asks him.

He holds his hand up in front of the open door, offering her to walk in first, to a room where two other people are waiting. “We decided that it’s okay to warn you that it’s coming.” He places his hand on the handle, and prepares to close it with him still on the outside. “The danger is real, Miss Granger. If you fail, you could die. Good luck, you three.” He shuts the door.

Renata spins back around, and begins to assess the room. The other two were sitting, but now stand and tense up. So many potential threats here. The floor is a metal grate, which could be housing hidden flame-throwers underneath. The vents could release a noxious gas into the air. The sprinkler system on the ceiling could drop caustic acid onto their skin. Or the pipes are just holding water, and that loose wiring hanging from the broken outlet is primed to electrocute them. There’s a cot, a table, two chairs, and a small dresser or nightstand. There’s also a sink, but she doesn’t know if it’s functional yet. They have no idea what’s coming, but protecting themselves from as many things as possible is paramount right now. The other two look like lost little puppies, so she’s gonna have to take charge. “Strip the bed. It looks like we have a fitted sheet, a top sheet, and a pillow case.” She steps over to the sink to test it. Water comes out. It smells fine. It doesn’t sting the back of her hand. It’s room temperature. “Hand them to me.”

The two others do exactly what she says without question.

She runs the sheets under the water, and hands two of them back while she keeps the pillow case. “Drape them over yourselves. Breathe through them in case there’s smoke.”

They comply again.

“Get on the table.” As they’re doing that, Renata checks for poisonous creatures underneath the mattress, then climbs onto the bed. “Okay. Any minute now.” It turns out to be that very minute. They start to hear the screeching of metal. The pipes on the opposite wall begin to shake. A scent wafts over from them, which assaults her senses. She can’t place the smell, though. It reminds her of rotten eggs. What is that? What smells like rotten eggs. The other two begin breathing through the fabric. Whatever the poison is, these sheets are probably not going to do them any good. She drops her pillow case to the floor while she jumps over to one of the chairs. The floor could still be dangerous, so she best not risk it.

Renata hops like a bunny over to the broken outlet. She takes out the gum that her mother gave her, and smirks. They didn’t expect her to have this on her person. She unwraps one stick, and lets it fall, because she only cares about the wrapper. She forms it into a bow-tie shape, and prepares to place it between the wires.  “Stay covered,” she orders. Just as some kind of powdery something or other bursts out of the pipe, she completes the circuit. Electricity surges through the wrapper, and sets it on fire. Knowing that it’s going to burn out before she can use it, she uses it like a match to set the rest of the pack of gum aflame. It’s not going to last long either, but just long enough. She hops off the chair, and onto the nightstand. She holds it up to the sprinkler system, and before the flame can burn out, the water is released. It’s not acid, so that’s good.

She smiles as she watches the water make contact with the powder, assuming that it’s neutralizing it. It doesn’t seem to quite be doing that, though, or at least not good enough. She’s now seeing a gas begin to fill the room. Was it always there, or was the water somehow creating it? Then she starts to cough, as do the other two candidates. It gets worse and worse as she starts to feel like she’s going to die. Then she falls off the nightstand, and lands hard on the floor.

Microstory 2497: Swampdome

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I’m not saying there’s something lurking under there, but...there’s something lurking under there. In case you didn’t tease it out from the name of this dome, this is swamp country. If you go to any swamplands on Earth, this is what they look like. It has all the same flora from there, and some—if not all—of the fauna. You can take a boat on the water. It can be a rowboat or an airboat. I don’t really think you have any other options. You could also just wade or swim in the water if you’re feeling brave. The water is so murky, there’s no way to know if something is hiding underneath the surface. I’m almost certain there is. As I was sitting on my boat, I could both here and feel something bump up against the wood. I couldn’t see anything, but I seriously doubt a turtle is strong enough to hit it with the amount of force it would have needed to. Yeah, it could have been an alligator. And that would be scary. But it could also be something else, which I think is scary, because there’s so much uncertainty. Humanity is long past the time since we perfected genetic engineering. There’s no reason it can’t be a creature that never existed in nature. There’s that one character from the comics. I’m thinking it’s that guy, or someone very much like him. I mean, his story would be different, but they could absolutely make a person who approximates whatever properties that character had. I wasn’t scared, I wanna be clear on that, but it was a little unsettling; I have to admit. There’s really nothing more to say about it. They didn’t do anything special. There are docks, boathouses, houseboats, and cabins randomly strewn about, so if you find one of those, you can get out and explore. Come here if you wanna be in a swamp, but not if you want to learn anything, or have a story to tell. Unless that monster that I think lives down there shows its face, it’s just gross water to me.

Microstory 2486: Estuaridome

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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.

Microstory 2466: Grand Central Sewage

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According to lore, this was originally called Primary Sewage Treatment Dome. They changed it, because they wanted it to sound a little more fun. Because in reality, it’s not fun at all. It’s the grossest aspect of this planet, in my humble opinion. Let’s start with the water. Every sufficiently completed dome handles its own water treatment for the most part. Using state-of-the-art plants, the sewage is collected, filtered, and recycled as needed. This clean water is then pumped back into their own pipe network, and if there’s any excess, it can be returned to the planet’s water table. There isn’t much of a water table, but it does exist, and it’s growing every day. What’s left over after all of the water has been reclaimed is called sludge, and while it’s absolutely disgusting, it is absolutely not useless. There are all sorts of goodies in your waste. It can be used for biogas, fertilizer, and even feedstock for additive printers. That’s right, the device you’re using to read this review may be made out of poop! It’s a...different circle of life. Certain useful ingredients can also be extracted from the sludge, like phosphorus, nitrogen, and cellulose. These chemicals are all processed here, and redistributed as necessary. But first, it has to get here. As I said, each individual dome reclaims its own recycled water, but since there’s only one Grand Central Sewage, it all has to be pelletized, sealed up, and transported somehow. Enter the vactrain network. That’s right, the same tubes you use to travel from your residential dome to, say, Archidome, are also used to transport waste. Don’t worry, though. They use entirely different trains, and entirely different train stations. It’s probably right under your feet, though. If you were to step through a maintenance door, and walk down the steps, you could end up in a second station where waste is moved into the tubes. Scrap is shipped from here as well. Every time you throw away some packaging, or a part breaks off from some equipment, it goes to one of these hidden stations too, so it can head off to a separate dome, colloquially known as The Scrapyard. I reviewed that dome as well, because I actually like the utility domes. I find the secret, underground means by which we live to be more interesting than what we do on the surface. It’s not pretty, and it’s not glamorous, but it is monumentally important. Yes, it might be a little weird to know that the chair your sitting on could have been in someone’s body at some point, but trust me, this is better. We used to just dump our waste in a hole, and leave it there forever. Talk about disgusting.

Microstory 2461: 10,000 Emerald Pools

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This, to the best of my knowledge, is based on a song, which in turn, is based on a physical address from a city called Las Vegas, on Earth before the Great Rewilding of the 21st and 22nd centuries. From what I gather, the song is about love, but it’s open to your interpretation. Castlebourne’s interpretation is quite literal. There are actually 10,000 Emerald pools dotting the landscape on the surface under this dome. Though don’t expect to ever see all of them from above, or even a handful of them. That’s not how it works. This is classified as a Leisure Dome, but it’s also sort of Residential, because there’s no time limit. If you wanna stay in your pit for the rest of time, it doesn’t sound like anyone’s ever going to kick you out. This is a very personal experience, which the prospectus doesn’t go into, so there’s a chance that my review will be autorejected for revealing too much information about it, but this is what happened to me, so I feel like I have the right to detail it. When I first went in, they asked me the standard questions about what kind of person I am. How organic am I? Do I have a heart condition? Do I require electrical charge? That sort of stuff. They needed to know if I needed hygiene facilities, or a bed to sleep in. They also asked me some psychological questions, such as how my mood is, how easily it shifts, and how much human contact I feel like I need. It’s a personal journey. When I woke up in my hallway, I had to pass through a plasma barrier tailored specifically to my DNA. I would not have been able to bring anyone with me, nor break into anyone else’s domain. But more on that later. After the questions were done, they processed the data, and assigned a pool to me. They didn’t give me a name or number for it, nor tell me where in the dome I would be going. It could have been clear on the other side, right by the entrance, or somewhere near the center. I just don’t know, because they had me take a sedative before I was allowed to continue. Don’t think you can get around this if you have any cybernetic upgrades, or something. They also have technosedatives. That’s why they needed to know my substrate specifications. Like I said, I woke up in a hallway. On one end was a metal door that said EXIT. A sign underneath informed me that I could leave at any time, but I would never be allowed back into any of the pits. That’s right, it is a one time experience, full stop. I’ll never be able to go back. It’s kind of sad, but beautiful, really. As soon as I walked through the plasma barrier, I was stripped naked. They didn’t tell me that part either. But I was happy, because this was a special gift. I walked through the wooden door, and into my pit. Before me on the ground was exactly what I was promised: an emerald pool of water. Flush with the grass was concrete coping, and the pool itself was lined with smooth concrete. All around me were trees and open spaces, but nothing else. I waded in the water for about two hours before I even thought about exploring. I walked less than 400 meters, up the incline of the pit, before I ran into the ceiling. That’s right, the edge of the ceiling started at the edge of the rim of the pit. To visualize it, imagine a bowl with a clear lid fitted on the top of it. I walked all along the perimeter, sliding my hand along the ceiling above me. There was no escape. The only way out was the exit door on the other end of the original hallway. I went back to my emerald pool, and jumped in. I slept on the bottom of it that night, using my gills to breathe. I won’t tell you what I thought about while I was there, because as I’ve been saying, it was very personal, but I’ll say that it was rewarding. The next day, I reopened the wooden door, walked back down the hallway, though the plasma barrier, and left forever.

Microstory 2455: Flumendome

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If you don’t know what a flume is, it’s a waterslide. I mean, it’s a certain type of waterslide, but who am I to get bogged down in the intricacies of linguistics? Oh, that’s right, I’m a linguist. I suppose this rolls off the tongue better than Waterslidedome. Or Waterslidome. Well, hmm. Waterslidome. Yeah, it should be that, but pronounce it like slid. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what the name is, people! Waterslides is the name of the game. I don’t even know how many there are, because I did not read the prospectus. I saw that word, then saw the main picture, and I was hooked. I’ve loved waterslides ever since I was a kid. I remember going to the waterpark every summer, but just once per year. Oh, I would beg my parents to take us more than once, but they wouldn’t do it. It wasn’t about the money, it was about keeping it special, and learning delayed gratification. Parenting is a crapshoot; when I had kids, I learned that myself. I don’t fault them for their line of reasoning. I still wish I could have gone more, but we’re all immortal now, so yay, I have all the time in the universe! Back to Flumendome, this is the best park I’ve ever seen by far. Since it’s contained in this dome, its engineering limitations are a lot farther away from the ground than its Earthan equivalents. So are the slides themselves. The best one starts at the zenith, and goes all the way down to the surface. Again, I didn’t read the prospectus, so I don’t know how long it is, but I know it’s more than 41.5 kilometers. It could be double that, or more. I don’t have any friends so I shared a raft with some lovely, kind strangers. They calculated that it was probably close to 120 kilometers, which is insane to me. I grew up in the 2080s and ’90s; we didn’t have anything anywhere near this scale. It takes just an hour to get all the way down, and there is no escape. You’re moving too fast, and trying to fish you out of there would just be unsafe, for you, and anyone you’re with, or behind you. If you don’t think you can handle it, then absolutely don’t try. Fortunately, you can start small, with some regular waterslides, and work your way up. I told you, we’re immortal, baby, don’t be strict about your time. There is another that starts at the top, and goes all the way down, but it’s not as steep, and not as fast. It takes about four hours to get to the bottom, and if it’s a desperate emergency, a rescue drone can reportedly extract you, but only during lulls, so again, proceed with caution. I don’t think they’ve had to do it before, but I did hear about someone needing to get off this next one, which sounds like that wasn’t hard at all. The slide is the craziest one of all in some respects. It also starts way up there, but it’s even longer. We can’t even begin to estimate its length. It takes a full 24 hours to get down. They can extract you because you’re moving so slowly. It’s like being on a river, except if you climbed over the edge, you would fall off and die. Fortunately, that’s probably impossible, because the sides are so steep and wet, you’d have to be a tree frog, or something. And why would you? I’ve been talking a lot about extremes, but this place has a slide for everyone. Its prospectus is one of the most comprehensive (which is why I didn’t read it), but if you’re unsure, I suggest you take a look at it, and find what you’re looking for. It’s a lot of fun, for people of all ages.

Microstory 2452: Coraldome

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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.

Microstory 2451: Mud World: World of Mud

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Here we have another overly descriptive name, like Mountain Mountain or Substrate Development Dome. If you’re lookin’ for mud, they have it here. We got obstacle courses, wrestling, bogging. We got all sorts of sports. If it’s typically paid on the ground, you’ll be playing it on—see if you can guess—a muddy ground. Did you guess right? There are some places in Mud World that isn’t mud, and that’s because it’s SWAMPS! There are no boats, so you have to wade, or even swim, across in order to get from one sector of mud to another sector of mud. MUD! There is already a dome that’s dedicated exclusively to swamp and wetlands, but this one has both. That’s okay, there’s room for all of us. If you come here, you’re gonna get muddy. I know, big surprise. Like, there are only a bunch scattered points of respite from all the mud called King Hills where you can play King of the Hill. A few people can probably stand on the top of it, but there’s only supposed to be one. If you manage to secure it, you better not rest on your laurels, because I guarantee that someone else is gonna come challenge you within the next three seconds. It’s not that everyone is trying to get out of the mud, it’s just fun to push people around, and get pushed around...back down into the mud. If you don’t like mud, you’re not gonna have a good time. You walk through the doors, check in, and then walk down some stairs to the area. Once you get down to the bottom (and in the mud that I was talking about earlier), the stairs collapse, and the nearest other stairs could be miles away for the next group of visitors. You could try to get to one of those quickly, but why would you do that? You’re walking through mud! And mud is great! I don’t know how else to explain that this is a Mud World: World of Mud. I’m not just calling it that for fun, by the way; it’s the official name, which I’m guessing you know because you’re here, and if you’re here, then you must be interested in mud. Which is a good thing, because we got plenty of mud here. MUD! Okay, that’s enough—it’s enough mud! ENOUGH MUD! I’m done with the mud! It’s over! If you’re done with mud, walk over to the nearest exit, and step into a shower. Ah, that feels good. Nice to get all this mud off my body. The water is warm, the jets go every which way. You can stay in the shower as long as you want, they got loads of them; as far as the eye can see. I mean, you can’t see the other showers, they have partitions. Well, they do have group showers. If you wanna wash off in full view of others, that’s your business, and theirs. It’s not 2025, where everyone is sexually unhealthy, and self-conscious. When you’re done with the shower, they have hot tubs too. After you’re done tubbin’, please get back in the shower, because hot tubs are gross. I’ll take a pool of mud over a hot tub any day. HOT TUBS! And-or you can dry off, and leave the dome. You can leave the dome for good, or come back another time. Or hell, you can turn around right that instant, and get back into some muddy shenanigans in the mud. One last thought before I go: MUD!

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.

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