Iker, Hans, and Rhodes stepped out of the interrogation room into a hallway with rubber floors and blocky white walls.

Before Iker could glance in both directions under flickering florescent lights to examine the environment further, Fatima and Bastian were already running past the three boys.

"You better run bitch!" Fatima yelled, turning her head back only briefly. Bastian's focused yet frantic jogging already agreed with her. Iker checked his pocket, and he still had the puffer from the eighteenth session.

And before Iker could ask Fatima why, the most grotesque buzzing he ever heard across any timeline came from the direction he was not looking.

When he followed the buzzing with the turn of his head...

The man who held the title of the most powerful supersoldier on Earth, also known as General Hendrix, was in the other end of the hallway. All four sides of the halls were infested with biological bees and bee drones swarming towards Iker's direction, all of them larger than a human hand.

With the radiant bubbles fading behind him, it was apparent Hendrix was operating on four dimensions too.

And Iker turned his head the other way to find that Fatima and Bastian were blocked off too, as flashes of a golden mane and the slithering of scales blocked the other end of the hallway. The gymnasium it led to was crushed in its entirety.

The monster... had a fatherly presence to Iker.

The two ex-Byza members and the three supersoldiers were trapped.

And even though on other timelines they may have been enemies... when facing these two horrors...

All the five humans huddled together with their backs touching each other.

Hughmungus... Noah... Que Va... 420... are you still in this timeline? Iker prompted with his thoughts.

The half-Italian and half-Puerto Rican boy crossed his fingers.

Another definition for a prompt could be a shitty prayer that was answered quicker.

For the brief moment the Spider Herald glitched into the hallway, only appearing as a purple and white ghost...

Iker's memories of splatting returned, and the humming of drones forming logic gates could be heard in the distance.

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Beneath the gust that carried gunpowder, sand, and the malodor of fresh corpses, the dune that Baph0 fell into formed an androgynous figure in shadow growing larger. A hand of vis pointed to the sky as vis wings flapped higher into flickering skies due to air combat. While the cross-legged being ascended high to meet gazes with the existing horror that took up the horizon, Wexil the arak was sitting in between vis horns.

"So Prophet M—I mean Ameen... you worshipped me all along just to dispose of me like this?" Baph0 asked the teenaged boy from the blazing heavens. Vis voice echoed like hundreds of high-pitched broken televisions that could only be in black and white. "Even I... could not forgive you for that."

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"You are a demon after all!" Ameen rebuked, now on his knees alone on the vast desert with shockwaves still hailing. "You should have known I would dispose of you once I could stop being a mere hacker. Soon I'll be more than that!"

They all existed in a time where the dead could be turned into chat bots that could interact with the living... and when 3D printers could print living carbon clones for the first time...

Ameen was the first. He was printed from the collective GPT models trained on the texts of false prophets. Prophets and gods that needed humans to defend them were not prophets or gods at all.

The existing horror with his legions of angels saved the malware-inflicted Yaw in an imperceivable instant as Baph0 entering demonic form would have finished Yaw in an instant if it was not for Ameen. Yaw's lifeline across all that ever was and ever will be would have experienced death, leaving a dead monkey god on the sand. The new form of Baph0 had thousands of ways to do it.

However, to understand how Yaw ended up back in the existing horror's hand among clouds and seraphim, a being could simulate themselves walking down a hallway, while at the same time picturing themselves like a repeating image for each second they take walking towards the end. One could consider it a portion of their worldline.

Now imagine if any of those images conjured in the brain simulation could actually take place in the present. The existing horror, even as a giant that touched multiple atmospheres, did not need to walk to the monkey king. He simply had to imagine it, and because his worldline would have shifted in the direction of Yaw, he managed to make his future the present, thus spawning a hand and picking up the monkey king and bringing him back to his standing position.

The only reason that the existing horror did not finish Baph0 earlier was because he understood ve was more than a being. To kill ver was to destroy concepts and ideas that would cause more harm then letting ver live.

And four portals spawned around the existing one as Baph0 sat on his left hand. "Let's squash our beef for now? Ameen and the Whore of Babylon must go."

She will spawn using Ember's and Spiderland's asset? the existing horror asked.

"Indeed."

With a crack in the bone helmet, Spiderland was falling high from the dark skies as blitzkriegs barraged over vis glowing eyes. The blitzkrieg was to distract ver from the supersoldiers attacking ver beneath vis helmet, and these supersoldiers using influx had yet to know what kaya, influx, or anagami even meant.

Ve and I... to mathematicians and philosophers... we are the concept of a paradoxes aren't we? the existing horror asked. To kill either of us... is to cause human civilization to no longer understand paradoxes at a visceral level.

The four portals around the existing horror opened for...

Elder ones.

Hell hordes.

Dominions, powers, virtues, principalities, and even archangels.

And the fourth portal spawning on the existing horror's right hand with Yaw...

Joaquim with steam airships with diesel launchers that could blast them superfast within short bursts.

And glitching in from Derry Hill...

Private Lucia as a husky and the humans, Gabe, Private Borrys, and Joaquim's mom Renée appeared, and Corporal Zinnia Woo helped them jaunt in. If she did not ever stand on the existing horror's hand before... it meant her jaunting operated under new rules.

"WE FUCKING DID IT!" Corporal Woo screamed.

"That's the first time I've seen you yell about anything..." the blonde freckled teenager Private Borrys murmured. "Now you have no excuses. You are calling drill next time."

"Where's Wexil?" Baph0 asked.

"No I am not!" Corporal Woo yelled.

"If I am still a sergeant in this form... I will command her to do it!"

Spiderland as a baby god in a floating onesie spawned behind Joaquim. Due to all the commotion rousing him, Joaquim just noticed how flexible he was in the net running suit.

"Wait, how long were you behind me or with me for?" Joaquim asked Spiderland.

"I look fucking gross when I am dying," Spiderland said, ignoring Joaquim. Ve levitated forward to watch a future self falling from the heavens.

To call Yaw's gaze at the spawning armies and at the thousands of faces of the existing horror... proud... would be the greatest understatement of this simulation thus far. The child he raised was now carrying Yaw this time, the existing horror leaving two footprints in the sand.

".... what a god," Yaw murmured in awe.

The reason the hymn about wet sand had hit so hard... was because they took turns singing it to each other across fiction and non-fiction.

Even among the thousands of four-dimensional eyes overlapping... Yaw found the pair that had red in them instead of white.

...

I have a little god in my hands.