“Excuse me? I thought that you were going to be a Lunfilios,” you. say, confusion beginning again.
He takes a step toward you, “Right, because of the changing shape thing? I get that. Lunfilios may claim they can freely and fully change their shape, but their greatest secret is that they really are only able to change between forms of bipedal beings—their DNA is unstable and it’s cost them some folk who try to change their body too much and they find they cannot revert—terrible thing, really,” he says.
“Okay, but you’re able to freely change your shape? You’re human, right?”
“Yes and no.”
“If your goal was to confuse me further than you’ve succeeded.”
He offers a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I truly am, but I’ve been in your shoes before, and I was always curious how it felt on the other side. I see there’s a certain sort of excitement...” he says, looking off into the distance. “Right, sorry. I was just thinking of times long past. Anyway, answers.” He says, cutting himself off. “My name is Gavin, and I’m here to help train you.”
“Train me?”
“Roland is assisting me in your time, currently, but you know of course we have our own troubles here concerning the Dromedans.”
“Yeah, considering you saved me from imprisonment with Cross.”
“And not just Cross,” Gavin says.
“How do you know that?” You ask, a hurt look on your face. “In fact, how do you know about everything that you do? Knowing about the past, this pocket dimension, hell about me?!”
He holds out his hand, slowly. “It’s okay, take a breath, Devon. I will explain everything to you, I’m not going to leave you hanging anymore, okay?”
You do as he asks and take a deep breath in, nodding your head.
“Feel free to ask me anything, and I shall try to the best of my ability to answer any remaining questions you have,” he says.
“Okay. Uh, the first thing I’d like to know is about you. Who are you? Besides like...giving your name,” you say.
He smiles small, “This relates back to when you asked me if I was human, also. So I’ll answer both questions at once.”
You nod.
“I was born human, yes. Born in 1999 to two parents and lived...well, I got through. It could have been an easier life, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Wish I could be that confident,” you say.
“It comes with time. I know that’s what everyone says, but it’s true.”
You nod an uncertain movement.
“Anyway, I’m hoping the name Radical-9 might have some importance to you?” Gavin asks.
“Yeah...Andrew—the human ambassador on Sayar told me about it.”
A soft smile crosses Gavin’s lips—an almost involuntary smile. “Is he well?” He asks with a certain quietness in his voice.
“Yeah, he is. You know him?”
He looks at you for a second and then pulls back. “We’ll get there,” and then smiles wryly. “Radical-9 didn’t just affect Andy. I was affected too, in fact, we were pretty close.”
“You...were his best friend,” You say, coming to the realization.
“That’s what he said? That’s so...” he trails off, the smile coming back. A second after it arrives he shakes it off and his usual composure returns. “Circumstances led my mind to be separated from my body. I’m sure Andy’s told you of how the Radical-9 enhanced his mental capabilities. It was a similar situation with me. Back then I understood it as traveling to multiple realities. I didn’t understand it fully. I do now. It’s as you heard on the video—our time is like an ocean, and Radical-9 was like a boat. My original body—the body I’d known for twenty years was vaporized in an explosion in 2018—the event that first showed me my abilities. My body since that point had always then been like the one you’re in now. You could even say that I was the...prototype for the cybernetic hosts that every human now resides in.”
“That’s how you’re here now right? How you’re here past Earth’s...”
He chuckles slightly, “It’s a tough grab, I understand, but yes. When someone dies, their consciousness returns to a collective unconscious.”
“A what?”
“Outside of our time is an entity called The Pit. Think of it like a library of human consciousness. Your heaven—hell—purgatory, whatever you want to call it. Your identity—you as a person enters The Pit like a lost library book, finally being checked back in. Your self is stored to live out in your own personal afterlife and the physicality of your soul, what your soul is is wiped of all of its memories, and returned into our world as a new person.”
You nod your head, “It’s a lot like reincarnation, right?”
“Yes. Except that the old you is stored forever in The Pit, forever to live in whatever reality they choose to exist in.”
“Okay, I think I get that. You mentioned that your body...exploded, right? So according to you your consciousness or soul or whatever should have been returned to The Pit, right?”
“Normally, that would have been the case, yes. And that’s where the machine in that room over there comes in,” Gavin says, pointing towards the hall where ICARUS resides. “That machine was built by the man who infected both Andrew and Myself with Radical-9. He used it to transmit visions to my body back in 2018. They were memories of my past—originating from the year 2060. It had been my future self’s own memories. When I died, back in 2018, my soul wasn’t just mine—it still had those lingering memories that ICARUS had sent back. My soul intended to return to The Pit, but it was interrupted—ICARUS had called the thoughts it had sent out back.”
He paces around the room and looks up and then back down, “Along the way my consciousness bonded with them, almost acting like a repellent from its original course. The Radical-9 must have spilled over too, bonding to my self wholly. And so, ever since, I’ve been able to travel between the oceans of our times.”
“You just magically have a body ready for you whenever you land?” You ask.
“No, if only life were that pleasing. Imagine being able to switch bodies at will—although I fear you’re already experiencing that sensation.”
“Yes, it’s not too thrilling.”
“Right, right. Well, this is the body that I woke up in that first time I ever Jumped-that’s what I call it, by the way. That’s thanks to the man who started all of this, of course. The body was specially designed to host my consciousness. It’s like a toy robot and I’m the battery,” he says with a smile.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Okay. So I get who you are, at least a bit more than I did before. But I still don’t understand how you know so much about everything. Like, I understand you’ve had a lot of time to learn things, going off of the assumption that the body you’re in doesn’t age,” you say.
He nods.
“Right, but how do you know like...about The Pit, the afterlife? You never went into The Pit, never saw that so like...how would you know?”
“Right right. So I know this because the time in 2018 wasn’t the only time that I died. Eleven years later in 2029—the apex of the conflict with the man that started it all, I risked my life to stop my future self—still a problem, mind you. This time, I died outside of time. Our fight would have been similar effects to our current stitch in time if I let it continue—my future self was of course not supposed to be in 2029, so we took it to the time outside of time—a dimension outside of dimensions. This is where The Pit resides.”
“You’re a very brave soul,” you say.
“We both died that day, but we didn’t return to The Pit, instead we were spoken to.”
“Spoken to? By who?!”
“What religion are you?” He asks, out of nowhere.
“Huh?”
“What religion? Because you may or may not take this next piece well depending on what religion you follow.”
“Uh, I never really...uh, my mother was catholic. She was very proud to be pious.”
He nods, “Well, there is a god. But he’s not like anything you’ve read about. He’s also now dead. That’s kind of my fault, but I had good reason.”
“W-Wait, you killed god?”
The question makes him smile. “Reminds me of a book I read a long time ago. Yes, if you wish to put it that way. I killed God. He spoke to me and my future self—now two wholly different beings stripped of everything but our souls. Our memories and identities were locked in The Pit at this time. I’d forgotten who I was completely and wholly.”
“So that’s how you know...”
He smiles, looking down and putting his hands at his side. “His name was Friedrich—god or whatever you want to call him. Not a good man—but not necessarily a bad man. He was a man, let me say. He could foresee all times—see the future. And he saw it his duty to make the future unfold. If that meant stopping World War II, well he’d see that it would happen. If it meant kickstarting the events that would lead to the destruction of Earth, he would see that it would happen.”
“Not a really personable guy, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, not really. This is where we go back to my second death. Both myself and my future self—he called himself Micah—we were made into angels for god. Sent into different times and meant to play roles to make sure that his future played out exactly as he planned.”
“Sounds like you need to write a biography,” You say, smiling for the first time in hours.
He smiles back, “Heh, I guess so. Don’t think anybody around here writes in English I’m afraid, the language had long died out and I never really got into the new lingo.”
“Well, I know one person, Andrew actually has him writing his life story,” You say.
His smile fades and he looks off to the distance. “Andy...for all that I went through I could never imagine the kind of suffering he went through alone. All these years I played a role I never knew myself in and he was dealing with all of this. Lindsey...may every and anything rest her soul. She was Andy’s wife, and you couldn’t find two people more absolutely in love with each other. When she passed he lost it—lost himself like I did. He did things he regrets, but most of all I did things I regret, not being able to be there to help my best friend. He lost the both of us in the same day.”
“But you didn’t choose to go,” You say.
“I kind of did,” Gavin says, quieter. “I knew what I was doing the second I jumped. I made it back, yes. I found out that I was slowly gaining pieces of my memory back. I realized that things couldn’t go on like they had so I had to do something about it—innocent people were dying left and right because they had to, and nothing was being done about it. So, I did something about it.”
“And you killed god?”
“It came in flashes. A hot burning mess that didn’t feel like a victory, but just like I’d finally taken out the knife that had been stuck in my back for the beginning of time. And then everything around me began to shake...The Pit was dying. I thought that I messed everything up—I’d messed everything up by trying to do the right thing, but then I just knew. I took the mantle, I stood at the edge of The Pit and I accepted the role.”
“You...you’re the new god?”
“I’m not omniscient. I don’t know everything like he did. I’m not all powerful. I was human, and now I have the responsibility of everything on my shoulders.”
“You’re...God,” You say, not being able to get over it.”
“Yes,” he says with a laugh. “I’m God.” He walks closer to you, “Is there anything else you would like to know?”
“Yeah, but I think I know the answer. Andrew told me of the time you two met up again. It was quick, but he told me about how you died...for a third time, I guess.”
Gavin takes a final step toward you, leaning on the desk between you both. “Andy never deserved anything that happened to him, but it happened so he had to deal with his situation in anyway he could, turn to those who were there when those who could have helped him weren’t. Khap-En happened to be that soul, orchestrating the largest slave movement since the beginning of time, and Andy was at the helm of it—unaware of it until the very end of it all.”
“A tool to be used,” you say.
Gavin nods, “It was then under my care to stop Khap-En’s plan. Of course, this led to a fight with my very best friend—he believed me to be a fake made to mess with him. I fully understand his confusion, I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth—his sister didn’t come back. His wife didn’t come back. How could I tell him that I did, and that I had to stop what he had been doing? He seemed to understand when the fight was over, and that fact broke my heart. It seemed to be the thing that woke him up from his sorrow, as backwards as that may be.”
“He mentioned that from that moment he dedicated the rest of his life to atoning for his mistakes.”
“That’s the Andy I knew,” Gavin chuckles. “But, that is the story of us.”
“I think that is all I had questions on, maybe aside from what this training would be here.”
“Well, I would be here to train you to be used to your body. Roland’s body has been kept in top physical condition due to his military training, but to you who has had zero of any of that, it is almost worthless. The training is to help accustom you not to just your body, but to any body you may be transferred to.”
“Woah woah, what do you mean other body?”
“Well, accidents happen, and should Roland’s body die, and you’re able to secure a new body—but I don’t plan on letting that happen, of course.”
“Right...”
“Once your training is completed—however long that takes—I shall bring you back to the normal flow of time where you shall return at near the point in which you left.”
“Wait, but didn’t Roland have to train for seven years?”
“Yes, I had to keep his pocket dimension located in the normal flow of time so that he could travel to your time directly after his training. ICARUS won’t work when it has no time to connect to.”
“So the whole make a choice you can be proud of thing was a lie? ICARUS wouldn’t have worked here at all?”
“Not entirely. You still made the choice, and you’re still here and motivated, aren’t you?”
“But Roland lied.”
“Pretty much. Under my instruction, but I’m afraid this falls into category of “needs of the many”.”
You nod your head, “I know. And I don’t fault you for doing it. It still just stings a little bit, you know?”
“I understand. I wish you could have it both ways. Being where I am, I have full access to interact with the world around me, but the one thing I learned right off the bat is that I should only intervene when the balance begins to shift—cataclysmic events threaten the horizon. I’m still only one man, and I cannot afford to care as that man for every calamity in history. Were I a god proper—omnipotence and omniscience, I would make everything a paradise for everyone—but that’s not what life is about. I know there’s an afterlife where those who deserve peace can get it. I also know that meddling too much in affairs throws everything off balance in the worst possible way.”
“It’s a lot you’re being asked of,” you say.
“I’m not being asked anything. I’m just trying my best not to become a mad god is all. Help when I can, but not totally dominate for one side. I’ve read all the books and seen all the movies where someone in my place finds their power too satisfying—they lose control and become the next person you need to stop. You don’t have to worry about that, I’m not going to be the next Friedrich.”
“You don’t have to worry about me upstaging you—I wouldn’t want to be god if I got the chance. Maybe you could...I don’t know, maybe find a way to automate it and find the time to return to your own afterlife...after this is over, I mean.”
“This is never over,” he laughs. “It just changes names and faces.” He walks towards the door, turning his head to the side, “So, I think I’ve talked enough for the day to last a millennia. Why don’t we start on actually doing something?”