Microstory 706: Abduct the Three Dogs of Death

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Elsewhere in the Book of Anseluka, the writer recounts the parable of the Three Dogs of Death, which no one in the galaxy had yet heard of.

In a small den in the deepest valley of the farthest lands lived three dogs named Malice, Mercy, and Mistake. Malice was black, with one ear missing that was supposedly bitten off by his brother, Mistake when they were pups. Mercy was white, stood tall, and spoke little. Mistake was brown and clumsy. These three dogs were responsible for all of death in the whole world. Malice was in charge of murder, and all forms of it. Mercy ended the lives of those in pain. Mistake controlled deaths by accident. Thousands of years ago, upon reaching adulthood, each individual was sent to battle these three animals. The goal was to procure a tuft the fur of one of them, and only then would they stop attacking. Whichever dog’s fur one managed to tear off his body was one’s to keep forever. There was still no telling when one’s death would come, but the nature of this death was determined at the end of each person’s fight. Children who died before reaching the appropriate age would have their fatefur forced upon them, with no choice.

One day, a young man named Dominti reached his journey’s end at the Den of the Three Dogs of Death, only to find all three were themselves dead. In the midst of their bodies was a young woman from the next village named Delurtha. In her zeal, she had savagely killed the dogs, thereby ending the curse of death for all. But Dominti was not satisfied with this, for he believed death to be a necessary conclusion to life. He cut from the corpse of each dog a handful of fur, and placed them in a fire pit of mystical wood from the Tree of Time. He then burned the fur, and out of the ashes grew a fourth dog named simply Mortality. Mortality was black, and white, and brown. She was now solely responsible for all life and death in the world. Delurtha tried to kill this dog as well, but Mortality was fierce and unwavering. And so death remained an inevitability. But recently, we have found ways of traveling to other worlds, and have discovered that each one has, or had, its own family of Three Dogs of Death. Some have been defeated, while others remain alive, and others have been replaced by something new. But that is another story.

The taikon passage regarding the Three Dogs of Death called for the abduction of the versions that can be found in Thuriama. Of course, we know that this story is nothing more than that; a story. We did find, however, that three Thuriamen leaders have been masquerading as these fictional characters in order to maintain control over the populace. After weeks of reconnaissance and planning, three separate elite teams were sent to capture the “dogs”, and fulfill the taikon. Though these missions came with obstacles and misfortunes, they were ultimately successful. The three frauds are now being held at an undisclosed location as leverage against our enemies.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 6, 2152

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Arcadia forced them to stay in the constructed reality, as she called it, for the rest of the day. Though her plans had already been foiled by Dar’cy’s heroic sacrifice, Arcadia didn’t want to risk making things worse by opening the dimensional doorway until she absolutely had to. Lincoln spent this time consoling, and sometimes just sitting with, Marcy, who had just lost her daughter. This left Mateo alone with his thoughts, which was not a good thing since Dar’cy was just one more in a long line of people who had given themselves up for his sake. Why? Why was it that so many people were purposefully letting themselves be taken by something horrific for no other reason than to protect him? More to the point, why had he never been given the chance to do something like that for someone else? Or had he, and he just missed it? Or worst, maybe he hadn’t simply missed it, but ignored it out of selfishness. Perhaps every time he thought he survived because the powers that be wanted to preserve their property, it was really just his own self-serving instinct. My God, he thought to himself, am I a bad person?

Darko and Kivi were waiting for them on August 6, 2152, having already spent a year dealing with what had happened to Dar’cy. After they were done eating breakfast in the morning, Arcadia teleported in and immediately started talking. “All right, well I had more plans with Alt!Mateo, which you so royally screwed up. Fortunately for you, I’ve had some time to cool off, so you—” She stopped herself.

“What?” Mateo asked, scared. “What are you planning to do? What is our—my punishment.”

“No, it...what is that?” she asked.

“What is what?” Darko asked right back. Marcy blamed Mateo for what had happened to her daughter, but Darko only blamed Arcadia. He was secretly proud that his daughter was like him, and had every confidence that she would find her way back. What they really needed was to see Horace again so he could tell them if he had any recollection of her back in the original 2036 when he killed Alt!Mateo. Man, this was so confusing.

“She’s not supposed to be here,” Arcadia stated.

“Who? Kivi?” It was Mateo’s turn again to ask a question.

“Yes, Kivi. You went back to 1945 in Gilbert’s body and altered history. Your daughter never existed.”

“What do you mean, my daughter? Kivi is not my daughter,” Mateo said.

Arcadia stared at him. “She’s not? Then who is she?”

“Wull,” he stammered. “She’s Kivi. You brought her to the island with all my friends years ago. No one else knew who she was, though. No one except for Lincoln, but he says he can’t tell us.”

Arcadia pinched the bridge of her nose like she had in the constructed reality. “You’re telling me she’s some new version of Kivi. Dear God, time really wants her to exist, in any capacity. She laughed. “This girl just keeps coming back...like herpes. You’re herpes, Kivi.”

“Screw you!” Kivi spat back. She had never been afraid of her.

“Arcadia, dear,” Mateo said condescendingly, “you’re losing it.”

“I think you’re right. I think I’m literally losing my powers. I don’t understand why I don’t remember this version of Kivi. My memories shouldn’t have been overwritten. I’m ripple proof.”

Lincoln snickered out of familiarity.

Arcadia turned her attention to him. “What’s so funny, Lincoln Logs?”

He turned and planted a passionate on Kivi’s lips, which made sense seeing as they had formed a relationship way back in 2118. “We met in law school,” he revealed once he was done with her face. We’ve known each other for a hundred a thirty-three years.” Had he been holding a microphone, he would have dropped it.

Now the pieces were starting to come together, but only for Arcadia, because Mateo didn’t really know what was going on. “That’s why you made Serif, not as a gift for Mateo, but because you wanted your girlfriend back. Ya know, sometimes your ability to see ever freaking reality all at once is a pain.”

“Good,” Kivi said simply.

“Whatever,” Arcadia said, spitting out her sour grapes. “It doesn’t bother me, and I know it won’t last. For as much as time wants her to exist, it also wants her not to. It will find a way to destroy her again to make room for some different version of her. Mark my words. Besides, it doesn’t change what’s happened. Real!Mateo, you successfully won the race. Yes, technically Dar’cy cheated, but it wasn’t by your hand, and I can do nothing about it now. You’re not done yet, though. That was only the first part. As I was trying to say, it’s time for the second part.

“You’re lucky,” she continued. “I had some pretty brutal plans for you moving forward, but this development has given me a new idea. I think it’s a little unfair that Lincoln gets to keep all that power to himself. Now, you all know that I’m immensely powerful. But I’m not omnipotent, and I do have my limitations. What I need is Lincoln’s brain.”

“You want his brain, you can’t have it,” Kivi argued.

“I don’t mean literally. If all I needed was his actual brain, I would just pick up the camp machete, and take it. What I need is what’s inside. Rather, I need it on the outside. He has a map to all of time and space, but he doesn’t ever really use it. I would, so you people are going to make that a thing.”

“You want us to draw a map?” Darko asked.

“Obviously this isn’t going to be as simple as a regular map, but yes,” Arcadia confirmed.

Lincoln was shaking his head. “You guys, we can’t let her have that. The reason I don’t use it is because it’s dangerous as fuh. No one deserves this power, not even me. I’m just stuck with it.”

“I’m not asking,” Arcadia said.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Mateo interrupted the argument before it could escalate. “Suppose we agree to this—which I’m not saying I am, or even that I have that right—what makes you think we can accomplish such a thing?”

“The Weaver once tried to build a map of time and space, but she didn’t have all the ingredients. She was missing the data. All you’ll need to do is figure out how to get it from that man’s head, and onto this.” She held out her hand and apported a rolled up sheet of paper into it.”

“Oh, is that all?” Darko asked rhetorically and sarcastically.

“That’s all.” Arcadia handed Mateo the baseline map. “You have two days.”

As soon as she disappeared from the beach, a greenish three-story building appeared in her place with a sign reading Leona Laboratories. If anyone could figure out how to translate superhuman brainwaves into something that can be read on paper, it would be Leona. Her not being here was exactly why Arcadia chose this time to force this upon them. It was a fitting expiation that matched her knowledge and abilities.

Most everybody just sort of looked at each other, knowing they would have to enter the mysterious lab eventually. Marcy, however, went over to sit in the group shelter. No one expected her to help, least of all Mateo. She had a telepathic exchange with Darko, who did want to help, but was clearly forbidden. And so Mateo, Lincoln, and Kivi opened the door and walked in.

It was brighter than he expected it to be. He knew that researchers had to work in the light so they could see what they were doing, but he still had this image of a dark and foreboding room where a mad scientist creates something, or makes a brilliant discovery. There was nothing in the room except for a few tables, and also a woman he didn’t recognize. Um...hello,” he said tentatively.

“Hi,” she said, not showing whether she was happy to be there, or upset. “My name is Porter. I’ve been asked to provide you with anything you need.”

“Anything?” Kivi asked, intrigued.

“Anything,” Porter began, “within reason. Paintbrushes, scrap paper, soft drink.”

“I would like a ginger ale,” Kivi requested.

“What brand?”

“Reed’s.”

Porter waved her hand at the nearest table, presenting Kivi with her drink. Kivi stepped over and took a sip. “That hits the spot. Did you make this, or steal it?”

“Little bit of both. I steal things from microrealities just before they collapse. By the time anyone misses it, they don’t exist anymore.”

“Heh,” Kivi said. “Been there.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“A map of time and space?”

“Anything but that,” she said politely.

Mateo set the baseline map on the table and rolled it out. “We could use a few paperweights.”

Porter snapped her fingers at each of the four corners of the map, leaving behind little glass animal figurines heavy enough to hold the paper down. “What else?”

Mateo sighed. “I don’t know. What else could we use? We don’t know how to do this. This is dumb.”

“Linc,” Kivi said. “Thoughts? How would we go about this?”

Lincoln sighed as well. “As much as I know, I know nothing of this. I can see physics papers that geniuses have written, and I can see events that have yet to unfold, but I can’t understand either of them. I’m still just a man.”

“Arcadia mentioned the Weaver,” Mateo remembered. “She was already working on this.”

“So...we need her notes?” Kivi asked.

“Those won’t do us any good. That won’t change how dumb we are. No offense.”

They weren’t offended at all.

“No, we need the Weaver herself. Porter, would you be able to...?”

Before he was able to finish the awkward request, Porter smiled and stepped to the side, revealing a second woman behind her.

She was smiling kindly as well. “I hear you could use some help. I’d be happy to lend my services.”

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The Departure of Hokusai Gimura: Chapter Two

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I spend one day looking over every document that Hokusai left me in that frightening knife dimension—and while it’ll be helpful in understanding how the world of time travelers works—it doesn’t give me any leads as to where she went. From this failure I give myself a week to rest and recharge while indulging in the kinds of things rich people have access to...namely time. With more than a million dollars in the bank after buying a unit in the Ponce de Leon, I don’t have to worry about working. I don’t know how much I’ll end up having to spend on my personal investigations, but at least for now, I’m not even going to consider finding a job. Ennis Patton, a.k.a. The Courier drops by a couple times to check on me. Out of pity, he ends up giving me a little bit information that can help. As it’s his job to know lots of different time travelers and time manipulators, he’s able to provide me with some connections I wouldn’t be able to get on my own. He first directs me to a wealthy investor who uses his ability to see the future to play the market with zero risk. Apparently everyone who can, in some way, manipulate time has to have a nickname, but this guy is different. He never gives me his birthname, no, but nor does he have his own code name either. Instead, he belongs to a class of precognitives called Investors who see money and power as the only benefits to their gift. He throws a single tip my way, saying that this investment is too minor to be worth his time, but could set me up for life if I live frugally.h

More money is great, but what I really need is to meet someone who can get me answers. Investors live in their own respective worlds, not inconveniencing themselves with problems like disappearing towns, or door scribbles that magically turn into books. So Ennis gives me another lead, this time a twentysomething guy who lives in a safehouse, for a reason he won’t tell me. He jokes that the guy might be able to open some doors for me, but I have no idea why that’s funny. Since it’s my only good lead, I make the drive out to Overland Park and knock on the safehouse door.

A man opens with a juice box in his face, completely apathetic to my arrival. He stands there waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what I should say. After a moment in the awkward silence, he crushes his box, and lets it drop to the floor. Then, leaving the door open, he just goes back over and sits on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him from the threshold. “My name is Kallias Bran. I’m looking for a few people, and was told you might be able to help.”

“Where are they?” he asks in monotone.

“Well...I mean, I don’t know. That’s why I’m looking for them.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“You have powers?”

He chuckles and burps. “Quite the opposite. I have...no power over my life. I’m salmon.”

“I’ve heard that, what does that mean?”

This finally gets a reaction out of him. He turns his head, but slight enough to still be looking at me sideways. “You must be pretty bloody new. I’ll give you the run-down. Some people have powers. Ya got your teleporters, your time travelers, your precogs. Then you got the weird ones, like the bubblers, and the ripplers. They can all do whatever they want with whatever power they have. Since they get to choose how to use them, they’re called choosing ones. Then there are the people like me. We travel through time too, but we do so at the behest of some mysterious group of shadow people. Someone told me once why we’re called salmon, I can’t remember.”

“What do these shadow people make you do?”

“Are you gonna sit down, or just stand there like a weirdo?”

“My mother taught me manners.”

He burps again on purpose. “Manners aren’t allowed in this house.”

I start walking in.

“But take your shoes off. Goddammit, animal!”

I just sit down in the chair he probably uses to tie his shoes when he leaves the house.

“What were you saying?” he asks.

“It doesn’t matter. If you don’t think you can help me yourself, maybe you know someone who can.”

“Well, what do you need?”

“Maybe there’s someone who can...track people? Or someone who can send messages across time and space.”

“A spacetime email?”

“Yeah, sure. Can someone do that?”

“Prolly.”

“Shit,” I say under my breath, but he could definitely hear.

“I don’t know that many choosers, Elias. Where did you last see these missing people?”

“Springfield, Kansas.”

“Did you try going back there and retracing their steps?”

“Springfield doesn’t exist anymore.”

“They got rid of it? Good riddance. Frickin’ Red-Tailed Hawks, always beating my Cardinals in the postseason.” Yet another person who’s heard of a town that was taken out of time. I’m starting to think that never happened.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll let you get back to your LOST marathon.”

“Now, hold up, he says. I might have someone for ya. But we’re gonna need two things.”

“What?”

“Number one: another juice box. I’m parched, and the kitchen’s way over there.”

“I can get you two.”

“My man! Thinkin’ big. You’re okay, Alias. You’re okay.”

As I’m retrieving the drinks from the fridge, which is about five feet from where Vearden is sitting, I ask, “what’s the second thing, a pudding cup?”

“Oo, three things.”

I hand him the juice and pudding, then sit back down, trying to stay patient.

“A gun.”

“A gun?”

“A gun. You got a gun?”

“I used to a cop, I got a gun. Why do we need a gun?”

“You ever heard of cell phones?”

I don’t even bother answering.

“Dude, we’re time travelers. I’ve met people who haven’t heard of phones before, including my first wife. Don’t act like that’s a dumb question.”

I just show him my cell.

“Guns..are like cell phones, but they only call one person. His name is...The Action, but I just call him Ashlock.”

“The gun is a phone?”

“Like how you stand in front of a mirror in a darkroom and say bloody mary three times. Lots of choosers have special ways of contacting them since cellular networks don’t work past, what, the 1930s?”

I take my gun out of its holster. “You want me to fire my gun in your home?”

He seems confused. “This isn’t my home, it’s a safehouse. My real home is nine years from now in an alternate timeline. And you can’t just fire a gun, otherwise, Garen would have to be in a million places at once.”

I take in and release a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?”

He starts chowin’ down on that pudding. “His calling card is on the TV stand, if you can figure out my filing system.”

“You mean this pile of trash?”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

I sort through the mess and find the card from Garen Ashlock. On the back is a script I’m apparently meant to recite, which I reluctantly try, ultimately shooting a hole in the baseboard next to a small closet. Nothing happens.

“Nah, you gotta do it right. Once more with feeling, and all that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to act it out, Elsa. Again, he can’t risk some rando just stumbling upon his code phrase.”

I take another breath, then try again, moving around to mimic the way the original characters said these lines as best as I remember them. First I reholster, and re-unholster. “Say hello to my little friend!” I then point it at Vearden. “You’ve got to ask yourself one question; do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” I toss my gun to the floor, which I was never explicitly taught at the academy I shouldn’t do, but it was kind of implied. “Trinity! Help!” Then I awkwardly pick the gun back up and place it point blank at Vearden’s head. “Dodge this.” Before squeezing the trigger, I swing over and plant another bullet in the same hole I made earlier. Again, nothing happens. “Son of a bitch!”

“Oh, that was beautiful, I don’t know why it didn’t work,” Vearden says. “Let me see that.”

I give him the business card.

“Oh, you know what, I think this is his old one.”

“I feel like I’m not getting anywhere!” I shout louder than the gunshots. “I do all this work, and nothing really does any good! Sure, I got money now, but who the hell cares! I’m just looking for Hokusai, Springfield, and the missing children! Is there no one who can help me with that!”

Suddenly a beam of light shoots out from my double bullet hole, and shines on the opposite wall. This light expands to form an opening vaguely in the shape of a doorway. There’s a staircase on the other side of what I can only guess is a portal. A woman and a man are walking down the stairs, but only the woman steps through. “Thanks for the ride, Juan,” she says to the man, who just smiles and nods. He then snaps his compass shut, giving the impression that this act is what causes the portal to close too.

“Garen Ashlock?” I ask of the woman.

She shakes my hand. “He couldn’t be here, so I’ve been sent in his stead.”

“Sent by whom?” I ask.

“The powers that be, of course,” she answers.

“You’re salmon.”

“Indeed,” she replies. She shakes my hand again, possibly hoping I don’t notice that we’ve already done that. “My name is Sanela Matic...but you can call me The Screener.”

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Microstory 705: Avail Immortality

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This is a surprising entry in the new list of taikon found in the Book of Anseluka, but we have no choice but to accept it. Immortality, in many forms, has been available for as long as many of us can remember, but not everyone is successful enough to obtain it. Many techniques are prohibitively expensive for the more impoverished in our civilization. Up until now, this has been okay with us. Our whole economy and culture is built on the idea of working hard for what you want. If you’ve not found a way to afford immortality, then you must not be good enough for it. Only recently are we doubting this sentiment, which is something we never thought we would. The Book of Anseluka includes more than just the directions for the new taikon. It also presents new ideas about how we should run Fostea, and some changes the unknown author believes we should implement. He does not suggest we return to the ways of the dirty communists of our past, but we should continue to follow the model of Earth. How an ancient writer could have any idea that we would begin modeling Earthans out of necessity, or what that model would end up being, we may never known. We still don’t know who Anseluka was, or whether he’s still alive today. He does not write about himself at all, and most haven’t had time to seriously question this. We have to trust the leadership of our true savior, Sotiren Zahir, who has made it clear that the Book of Anseluka is just as divine as our previous books. In the Core of Lactea, immortality is available to all who want it. Few of them reject immortality, because most of those have already left to strike new worlds on far away orbitals. Since immortality doesn’t exist on Earth, the Core Lacteans are the only ones we can look to when figuring out how to avail it to every denizen of our galaxy. As much as it pains us, this is what we have done. Now that it is open to all, we will have to adjust our plans for a future with unlimited population.

Microstory 704: Retire the Book of Light

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As per the directions in the new Book of Anseluka, the Book of Light must be retired. Retiring a divine book is something we have never done before, but know how to do. The Book of Light itself actually outlines the process in great deal. It does not say when such a thing will be used, but Sotiren Zahir wanted there to be a way of respecting old words should new words supersede it. In his wisdom, he was aware that a book written in one time period may not remain relevant or valuable enough generations later, and when something better comes along, we must be ready for it. For ye, the Sacred Savior was humble and modest. Phase I involves a single individual reading the entire book from start to finish, with zero breaks. The Highlightseers began to work up some kind of lottery, or selection process, but ended up scrapping it. Ladriane Nuvin, the one who first read the introduction to the Book of Anseluka requested to experience this honor as well, and we agreed. She turned the microphone on the Grandmother in the Moon frequency, and began. All Fosteans were provided with the opportunity to listen to any and all of the reading, but were not obligated to do so. It is presented as an option, rather than a requirement, something to be played at a low volume in the background while you’re busy with something else. Stage II was all about burning massive hard copies of the book. It does not say exactly how many qualifies as massive, but we figured we would just open the bonfire the public, and let as many come as wanted to come. It started out small, of course, but grew larger as time went on. The crowd had to keep stepping back and giving it a larger perimeter until the ceremony died down on its own. Upon throwing their copies onto the fire, people generally vocalized sadness for their loss. Many prayed to the Light of Prosperity, thanking the Sacred Savior for his words, and pleading for something just as powerful to find them soon. After the fire was Round III, which entailed burying the ashes of the books in the ground in a giant grave that must be dug manually, by as many people as can fit. Though not required by the terms of a book retirement, an impromptu performance formed at the gravesite. Singers and other musical artists began to show off their talents over the rest of the night, and most of the next day. People periodically came and went to convey their reverence. It’s important to understand this doesn’t mean we can’t read from the Book of Light anymore...or even that we shouldn’t. Its words are still meaningful, and useful, but we must look to the future, and continue on our new path. The retirement of a divine book is more about the starting fresh, and less about destroying the past.

Microstory 703: Force of Hope

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The entire galaxy listened intently as a young woman named Ladriane Nuvin read aloud from the Book of Anseluka. She was in contention to be the first to touch the Scales of Tamsin the Judge, losing to Isaura Peak by a small margin. After hearing what the book had to say, Fostea fell into a deep depression. We hastily signed a temporary ceasefire with our Thuriamen enemies. They gladly accepted our terms, leading us to believe that they were experiencing their own internal issues. For weeks, people went about their days without much interest. Everyone seemed to be feeling numb, living in a dreary haze world. We experienced no defectors from Lightseed, but little enthusiasm for the Light of Happiness either. It would appear that, though people continued to believe in the Light, they were disappointed by it, and no longer excited for the taikon to be fulfilled. Something had to change, and fortunately, the new taikon outlined in the Book of Anseluka predicted this would happen. Like the Force of Faith, a new quantum field began to distribute itself across the galaxy. Called the Force of Hope, it acted to reignite people’s optimism and fervor. Slowly, but still miraculously, Fosteans began to wake up, and start seeing this for what it is. We don’t need to treat this bitterly, or with such frustration. Here we have this new divine book, with a new set of instructions. And we haven’t been reading it over and over again for the last several hundred years. This can get us out of our funk, and remove the burden of predictability. We’ve spent so much time coming up with all the ways the taikon might manifest, now we have the chance to experience them with no preconceived notions. It was hard to see the Light of Truth when you thought you already knew everything about it. Now that we see there are still things to be learned and discovered, the Light of Life can be seen in its true glory. Be hopeful, my friends. It is a new day, and the end of the ceasefire is rapidly approaching. It is time we start thinking about how we want the galaxy to be run once the taikon are achieved—and they will be achieved. We must have hope.

Microstory 702: Open the Book of Anseluka

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The Book of Anseluka. It is a mysterious tome that has been kept locked in the Sacred Savior’s original office for centuries. We have always known that it existed, but have never seen it, and do not know what it says. In the hiding place of the Ring of Expansion, a team found with it a note from Sotiren himself. In it, he briefly explains that the Ring cannot be used, which would be fine with us, because we believe we can win this war without it. Frighteningly, however, it also says that we must now finally open the Book of Anseluka, which could say anything. The code to open Zahir’s safe was written on the back of the note. Once that safe was opened, we found another note, instructing us to read the introductory passage of the book out loud on the same frequency the Grandmother in the Moon used. When asked about this, the resurrected Sacred Savior grew quiet, and said only that what must be done, must be done. So we did as we were told, and read from the Book of Anseluka, for all to hear.

If you are reading this after the realization of the 121st taikon then congratulations! You have accomplished the impossible. Your lives will be filled with success and peace. No blasphemer will speak lies of you, no enemy will tear you down, no invader will breach your borders. You may burn this book without reading further, and forget that it ever existed. If you are reading this before the realization of the hundredth taikon, please close it immediately. It is not yet time. If, on the third hand, you were instructed to read this based on the outcome of the hundred and first taikon, then I apologize immensely. Every taikon in the Book of Light from here on out will be impossible to attain. They will be forever out of your reach. If you have not yet found a way to make peace with your enemies, you will still have the chance to redeem yourselves, but the state of the galaxy will have to change dramatically. This short book outlines the requirements for a new set of the remaining nineteen taikon, ones which you have never heard before. To be clear, this is not punishment, but a new path, and a new way towards everlasting peace. Your next step is to publish this book for all to read, and follow if they wish. After that, you may continue with the taikon as organically as you were (hopefully) doing with the preceding taikon.

Microstory 701: Find the Ring of Expansion

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The First Ring, the Ring of Migration, and the Ring of Expansion were all hypothetically based on the same technology. We don’t know exactly what technology that is, or where it came from, but many believe them to have originated in another universe—this theory motivated only by the fact that they are so inexplicable. These three rings all do similar things, but differently so, and for different purposes. The First Ring is capable of summoning massive numbers of people to one place by some kind of instant transportation method we do not use for anything else. There is no evidence that it uses the simplex dimensions to accomplish this, but instead resembles data collected from ancient time travel experiments. The Ring of Migration can summon people as well, but does so in a more traditional sense. Instead of teleporting them, it merely attracts them to a single point, and lets them find their own way there. The Ring of Expansion, on the other hand, is more similar to the first. It behaves similarly to technology used millennia ago in the old worlds by tangent species of humans. At the time, one particular world had been cleansed of life, while higher dimensions that could be accessed from it were teeming with it. In order to repopulate the planet, they switched on a machine that we’ve never been able to recover, which consolidated everyone to mithgarther. Again, we’re not sure how they were able to do this, or why, but we know they did not use the Ring of Expansion. Some hypothesize that the Ring of Expansion was modeled upon this native technology, providing evidence against the possibility that any of the rings derive from some foreign universe. The Ring of Expansion is considered the most dangerous of all, because while the others are designed for one’s own people, this is designed for enemies. We have spent years fighting the Thuriamen, and though we’ve maintained a decent opposition to them, the war has stagnated. We are more technologically advanced, and we have more dedicated warriors on our side, but they still have the numbers. In all this time, teams were being sent to search for the Ring of Expansion, which promised the end to all this fighting. No one alive knew where it was, but the Book of Light strong implies that it was hidden in a hole of a dead moon. After years of hunting, we finally found it on an unnamed moon...orbiting an unnamed planet...orbiting an unnamed star. We were excited to finally be able to destroy the Amadesin remnant once and for all, but the Ring came with a note written in Sotiren Zahir’s handwriting.

Never shall this ring be used, against the Thuriamen, or anyone else. If ever it is, all taikon will be negated, and the universe will be plunged into eternal darkness you will never escape. If the Ring of Expansion is found after the end of The Light Wars, you may proceed with the taikon as they are written in the Book of Light. If, however, the war rages on, you must instead open the Book of Anseluka, and follow its instructions.