The Lords Speaks

  I was not always the Lord of Shandapidoor.

  Seven hundred thousand years ago–or once upon a time, if you like–I was a minor god, known as the god of triangles.

  I lived in the House of Heaven, where the beds and carpets are clouds, and the air is thick and pleasant like a nourishing fog.

  And I sat at the Table of Heaven, too, which was situated in the hall of glittering rubies, where Imgaggu painted fantastic feasts with her mind, and every evening, we dined on her creations.

  And we entertained ourselves in the Opal Colosseum, where we summoned thoughts, by force of our own will, and where we pitted those aspects against one another, just to see which one held on.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  We, the gods, played with the very fabric of reality. We were masters of the universe.

  Yet I had no real power. None to speak of, anyway. At least, that was how it seemed at the time. Give me this much credit: I really was at the bottom of the pyramid of power in heaven, and I didn’t know that all the other places outside of heaven were worse.

  All I knew was that everyone seemed to have great powers except for me.

  Even poor Millagua, who was the living avatar of stasis, used to get woken up every once in a while.

  As the god of stasis, Millagua was not able to move on his own. His skin blue, his lips black, his eyes closed, Millagua always looked like he was dead. But he wasn’t dead; he was simply stopped.

  And, as I was saying, even poor Millagua came out now and then. Ishhakhu, the goddess of kinetic perpetuity, who was married to Millagua, could wake Millagua up when she had a mind to do it. And boy, was Millagua funny. He’d be asleep for hundreds of years, and then all of a sudden just pick up where he left off, even if he was in mid-sentence when Isshakhu last let him go.

  You might think that Isshakhu was cruel for just waking up Millagua whenever she wanted to. But you wouldn’t think that if you knew the whole story about Isshakhu and Millagua.

  Good day to you. My name is Kien, and I am the sentient curator of this facility.

  This wonderful building is the Old Lam City Museum of Culture and Science, funded by His Majesty Himself. Now if you look down at your Pentalibra, you will see a little glowing screen. Have you got it? Good.

  Now, in case you have never used a Pentalibra before, I will give you a swift run-down to enhance your user experience.

  As I am sure you know, Pentalibra are programmable, multifunctional, mobile devices. As such, they can serve many purposes. The Pentalibra which you hold in your hand is very much a museum guide. You can use it to toggle between various exhibits.

  Here at the Old Lam City Museum of Culture and Science, we have a wide variety of exhibitions for your enjoyment, from the myths and legends of our very own rich Cannesian heritage to ancient stellar histories of space-faring civilizations who once lived far, far away from our humble little planet.

  As of this writing, all available exhibits are displayed on your Pentalibra. To continue to an exhibit, simply click the corresponding CONFIRM key.

  If no choice is made, you will automatically continue to the program’s next default exhibition.

  Thank you for your attention.