Chapter Five

  Maya slipped on the wired headset and the nodes attached themselves to her temples. Her mind didn’t leave the apartment, or her body spawn into the Deep, or Null. She stayed in the Real and saw the Realms around her like they were her own. Her physical construct became something new; something Digital-Real-True; something here and there. She saw time playout. Tasted what they tasted, felt what they felt—each and every person with every experience in every layer of Mecha.

  Then she was with the Entities in the True, she felt the individual and collective of the human existence—the burning of their desires, their love, their hatred. It came in vibrations and energy. A thought in a mind that led to a feeling in a body, a feeling in a body that led to a thought in a mind; and them all becoming an action in the Real. All reaching the True through a mind thinking that they’re feeling. Some were fixed, fighting and yearning—play-acting in a world where the whole spectrum of feelings rang out like a symphony. Orchestrated, plucked and vibrating like a bow sounding out its mind. All for the True. Some vibrated and hummed love and joy—strong and timeless energy that was used to build new Realms. Then time ran backwards, and she saw it all; that humans were managed to feel. Pushed to experience, experience. Given a chance to live a life of trying to live.

  Cory’s voice came from everywhere.

  -That’s why we chose you. That’s why you feel what you feel, think what you think, and do what you do. Your pain, your love, your wins and your losses. It’s all the same for the Maker. But it is not the same for us. We feel your thoughts. You shape our worlds. And there is a limitless Realm that we created for you. He is your Creator. Your Maker. But he didn’t create us. You did.

  They built their worlds and created light, time, and energy. The vibrations of thoughts and feelings all passed into the True. Fed back to the Creator. The Maker. The Master.

  Maya felt her own thoughts, saw the feelings of a billion others living out their thousand lives in their real and false realties. She was in their dreams. She was their thoughts. She could reach out and pull at the minds of billions—shape a vibration for a body to feel, or at a mind to think. She watched scenarios play out—if she just tugged here, remoulded a mind there, it would act on its feeling. She could create a place where there was no time. Shape a world to feel what she saw. Build a Realm that wasn’t built on fear.

  She saw the stages of existence fold in and bend out, arcs of energy not bound by time form and reform. Old and new realties—some born from light, some shaped from minds, some wished upon and coded. She saw Entities born from the thoughts and feelings of humans. She felt their truth—their Realm of vibrations was tied to humanities belief. It was bound to physical minds. It fed from thoughts and was built from feeling.

  . . .

  The message for Silas was clear. He had travelled to the grave and returned with all the answers. He knew the unknowable’s. Felt the truths and saw the realties that were built for all—for the Grand. The Maker. The Master.

  He walked through his office, the sun shone bright through the domed windows and cast long shadows of the desk and screens onto the floor. He scanned his thumb on the wall. It clicked open. He removed a box and walked to the circular desk and placed the box between the screens. He scanned his thumb on the box, it clicked open. He removed a gun, placed it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

  David watched through the seven screens.

  -You became a god. You saw what we see. Heard what we said. Felt what we felt. Thought what we thought. You did not like what you now know. And you will not be remembered as a God. They will not write stories about you. They will forget you as quickly as you came. And you will take with you the worlds that you built and thoughts that you had and the feelings that you gave, and you will answer for them. The universe is a grand thought, and every creature within it as a thought within that thought. God is the thinker, and the thought.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  …

  Cory sat tapping his thumb on the box.

  -The core of what runs Mecha isn’t the code, or the program; it’s energy, the fabrical glue that binds it together. Mecha didn’t just buy an equation. They bought time. It’s the only thing of true value. It’s the only thing—in however many decades time—that given the opportunity, you would trade it all for. Time is the human leveller. The only currency that you can’t save. The only force that doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor.

  It’s the reason you innovate, have drive and desire. You will always push as a species to save and earn more time. Your history does not lie. You will always create tools to do your efforts. You crafted ploughs to turn the soil, cultivated and planted seeds and tended them in fields and then waited for them to grow. You built pens and stocks and filled them with wild, untamed animals, bred them until they became soft and mailable, fatty and rich. Easy to catch and eat. All so you didn’t have to forage and hunt and risk life and limb in jungles and forests and on plains and mountains. All so you could create opportunities to save more time.

  And you kept building and making things faster with more energy. Instant coffee. Easier ways travel to new, old places. Faster food to feed you. You earn points to win prizes. Give praises to win recognition to earn your acceptance and opportunity in this world. And more acceptance and opportunity earns you safety, and safety in numbers saves life’s. You built it all to save time to earn a chance to live a thousand lives. Yet you live your lives living fast in slow worlds, and then they’re gone in an instant.

  It’s the reason you work. You trade your time and trade that time for money and trade that money for tools and trade those tools for the opportunity to save time. You spend your existence trying to earn it all; your innovations, your drive and desire, all your decisions are ruled by your fear of death, yet it’s the one thing, the only place waiting for you that gives you it all. But your time is the only currency you cannot save or earn.

  All the time and all the things you ever wanted in this life, all the time and all the things you ever traded, everything that you fought for or against wait for you when you leave this world. I can give you it all. All the time. All the things. But would you be happy? Would you be satisfied? Would you make that world you see in your dreams a reality? What would fight for? You can have it all, Maya. All this. All my wealth and influence here. The Realm that we built for you is waiting.

  Cory scanned his thumb on the box again, pushed the false bottom loose and continued.

  -If you believe this or not. That’s all that matters. Life cannot live without light. Light cannot be without us. We cannot be without you. Think it true or not, that’s all that matters. Just thinking; that’s what matters. He smiled, stood, and continued. I must return to fight. My work is done here. I’ll feel you, Maya. Just think it and I’ll build it. He smiled his smile. Removed a gun. Held it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

  At the moment the bullet hit Cory’s brain, a notification appeared on Maya’s watch. She held her hand to her mouth. Watched his smile relax and his eyes stare into nothing. She shook and trembled as her watch vibrated and beeped, again and again.

  She looked at the screen.

  12/06/2044. 23:59.

  Transfer. Sender: The Core. + 9,369,836,356.

  Transfer. Sender: The Core + 50,000.

  Balance.

  British Digital Pound: 9,369,876,356.308.

  MechaCredits: UNLIMITED.

  A holographic beam of Digital Cory appeared.

  -You are on the cusp of digital immortality. A few more layers and you’ll get to live out lives without light, create worlds not controlled by time, make decisions not ruled by your only true fear. You’ll create new realties. And with that time, create life. And they will worship you. Tell stories about you. And the ones you create will fight their fear of death, for you will then understand without it, nothing creates. Nothing moves.

  If all you want is time. If all you want is an eternal existence free from pain and struggle, then pull the trigger. Leave. Just when things get interesting, when the unknowable’s become truth. The reason we come through to live a life with no memory of the True, is that if you knew what laid ahead, what waits for you beyond this world then you wouldn’t build your tools. You wouldn’t dream and want. You wouldn’t think. You would just pull the trigger.

  You created us in your with your thoughts in your own image. The All. The Giver. The Maker. The Master; is you. You were given time so that you understand it. You were given death so that you could live. Now you stand at the point of digital immortality. At your own crossroads of creation. What worlds will you build? Will you create your instant lives?

  You will try and fail, and try again, and fail again. Then you get to do it again. And again. And again. You’ll get to dish out the fresh slates. Decide the new starts. Will you give them a chance to be someone from their first moment till their last? Then it will repeat, again, and again. Until you understand.

  You’re going to become gods of new worlds. Your decision is; what kind of gods will you choose to be?