Standing next to a strange tree were a beaver and a small boy with green, bushy hair. Between them lay a black and white chessboard with floating colored orbs serving as chess pieces.

"The game of perspectives isn't about winning or losing but rather something that is mutually beneficial to both players. By the end of the game, the first player will gain a higher understanding of their perspectives, and the second, answers to their questions," Manduka explained.

Ged listened intently as Manduka described the rules of the game of perspectives.

"The beginning player declares a statement and an accompanying perspective that goes with it. The secondary player then takes the first player's statement, simplifies it to its core components, and displays a corresponding perspective to match. If the starting player believes the second player's perspective helped them understand their point of view to a higher standard, then they can allow the second player to ask a question."

Ged fixated his eyes on the strange board game, experiencing a familiar feeling akin to when he gazed at the Tree of Mysteries.

Manduka observed Ged's curious gaze and responded, "This board is made from wood taken from the original Tree of Mysteries. All these mysterious objects are known as 'dings'; they are objects where no matter which direction you look at them from or if you slice them in half, their shape or size won't change."

Manduka then conjured a golden scimitar seemingly from thin air. With a ginormous arm emerging from within his tail, he swung the scimitar at the board, slicing it in twain. Astonishingly, instead of two halves, two equal-sized boards remained.

Ged stared, dumbfounded by the magical act, while Manduka gave a mocking smile.

"Silly human," he laughed at the still-shocked Ged. "Take this board with you. You never know when you might need to get your questions answered by an old beaver like me again."

Ged walked up and held the enigmatic board in his hands. Using his improved vision, he tried to study its secrets.

"Does this work with all 'dings?' I would love to study the Tree of Mysteries as well if possible," Ged asked.

"Now, now, boy. Don't get too hasty asking a question. I'll save you an answer for when you provide me a unique perspective."

Ged was starting to get a bit frustrated with the cryptic and unhelpful beaver. "Well, lend me one of your scimitars. I'll go and find out for myself."

Manduka was pleasantly surprised by Ged's forthcoming change in character. "Good attitude, boy" he remarked. "Here, why not take your own."

Manduka then conjured an identical scimitar out of thin air and sliced his original in twain.

Manduka stared at the two scimitars in thought. "I guess you might need another scimitar just in case you need to sever your scimitar." He severed off another scimitar and handed two scimitars over to Ged.

Manduka's scimitars vanished, and a sleek black chair replaced them. Manduka sat on the chair and closed his eyes as if he were asleep. "Now you can find the answers by yourself."

Ged held the two scimitars; they both felt as light as air in his hands.

Putting one of the scimitars on the ground, Ged walked up to the Tree of Mysteries. With a fierce slash, he cut into one of its twisting branches.

Now there were two Trees of Mysteries.

Ged looked at the pile of strange loot he had received from the beaver and felt quite pleased with himself. However, as he stared at the enormous-sized tree, he couldn't fathom how to move with his newly acquired items.

Manduka called out in a mocking tone, "You'd best put away all my precious gifts. You never know when some burglar might come along and snatch them."

Ged looked at Manduka pleadingly, "Please, guide me. I don't know how."

Manduka laughed loudly. "Guidance is what you want? I can give you guidance."

Manduka cleared his throat. "A 'ding' fluctuates rapidly between existence and non-existence. To turn an object that currently exists into one that doesn't, or vice versa, is as simple as flipping a switch."

"Through your journey to get here, you must have at some point seen this creation. Did you at any point come across the colors of green and red colliding and creating something new?"

Ged remembered the bench press of creation he saw while traveling with the gray stream. "I did see something similar. I observed it as the two surfaces pushing off each other using a motion like that of a bench press."

"Yes, precisely, and that very form of motion is the key to solving your issue. The 'pressing motion' at the beginning of a bench press is how things are created from nothing, while the second half—the 'pulling motion'—returns the creation back to nothing," Manduka explained.

Ged pondered Manduka's words and considered how they could be applied to put away the Tree of Mysteries he had created.

Approaching the tree, Ged attempted to 'pull' it back to nothing. However, when he held out his arms in what he thought was the 'pulling motion', the tree fluctuated out of sight before returning back into existence.

Ged frowned at the tree, he utilized his heightened sensitivity to try and understand where he went wrong. With nothing conclusive he attempted another 'pull.'

Still, the tree fluctuated between existence and non-existence.

However, in that last attempt Ged realized something important. Whenever he was performing the 'pulling motion', he was performing the act in tandem with an accompanying 'pushing motion.' Canceling out all the 'pulling' done in each step.

How can I pull an object without pushing out first? Ged thought to himself. He looked quizzically at his arms before pleadingly glancing over at Manduka.

"Don't get too down on yourself. This step is usually difficult for beginners," Manduka offered a pitying remark.

"Here's a hint, think about why performing a bench press is different here than it is in reality."

Glancing gratefully at Manduka and his guidance. Ged immediately went to try out a bench press rep to cross reference what he experienced when he tried it back at the registration office.

Ged lay on the dirt ground, holding out his hands shoulder-width apart, attempting to do a bench press. He extended his hands skyward before returning his elbows back to a ninety-degree position. He repeated the motion several times, and after hundreds of attempts, something clicked inside his head.

Ged's eyes lit up. "There's no resistance when I perform a bench press here."

He realized, "When I was doing the bench press back in the real world, gravity 'pulled' the weight down to my chest, and I 'pushed' the weight up. If there was a force similar to gravity here, I could use it in the opposite way and have it 'push' before I 'pull.'"

"No. Not quite..." Manduka shook his head.

Ged felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him. He couldn't understand how his insights could have been wrong.

"But you are on the right track. Why don't you take a break from this for now so you can join me for our game? Maybe it will broaden your horizons and refresh your mind with some new ideas," Manduka remarked.

Stolen novel; please report.

Ged begrudgingly got up from the ground and walked over to Manduka.

A second chair popped up at the opposite end of the two game boards. "I guess I'll put away my board and tree, and we can just use yours," Manduka spoke, doing a strange motion with his tail before one of the two game boards and the Trees of Mysteries disappeared.

"I will begin the game first. To make a move, simply visualize an environment in your mind's eye, move one of the game pieces, and speak aloud your statement."

"Let's begin with something easy," Manduka said, using his tail to move one of the glowing colored orbs.

"My existence is revenge," he declared.

The scenery around them changed as everything besides the 'dings' shifted.

They were now playing in a battlefield, where beavers were fighting a war against humans. Strange elemental-like abilities were flying across the battlefield, as the humans seemed to be on the retreat.

Ged stared at the battlefield with a lost expression.

Manduka spoke up with some helpful guidance, "Look deeply around at the scenery. Ponder to yourself what meaning does this perspective and scenery have to do with my statement? Then, based on that meaning, respond with your own perspective and statement."

Heeding the advice, Ged looked around at the brutal scenery. What he saw shocked him; it was a one-sided massacre of the human army. He heard the terrifying screams of humans as they ran in fear, and the squeaking war cries of the beavers who were marching ferociously towards them in chase.

He saw the disturbing sight, and although it shocked him initially, he felt completely detached, as if he was missing the part that would feel outrage.

Yet, instead of dwelling on his thoughts he tried to solve Manduka's perspective. However, even with his enhanced vision and lacking empathy, he could only think of one thing that could relate the scene with his statement.

His own existence.

He saw Manduka as an entity like him who once saw only the world through gray curtains. This vision reminded him of his three futures that led him to leave reality itself to pursue.

Ged then created a perspective in his mind which he thought best resembled himself before announcing, "My existence IS."

Ged moved his piece on the game board, and the world changed. It was now an expanse of green and red separated by a wall of gray.

Manduka looked at the changing scene with a slight hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"The known, unknown, and a wall..." Manduka thought to himself in contemplation.

"Your perspective is passable... I will allow a question for it." Manduka spoke.

"Am I a human and are you a beaver?" Ged asked.

Manduka squinted his eyes towards Ged and his strange question, answering, "I am not Manduka the beaver, and you are not Ged the human."

Ged heard the answer, but he wasn't surprised; rather, he felt relieved.

"Although I can't speak for what exactly you are, I can expand upon who I am. I was once a part of a being named Manduka, who had an ambition to kill all of humanity. In a losing battle between beaver and human, the beaver Manduka severed this ambition in hopes for humanity's death, letting me loose to explore the primordial gray."

"This is why most explorers of the primordial gray do not have names," Manduka sighed. "It really is a confusing mess, isn't it?"

Ged pondered Manduka's words carefully. His words made him grasp that he was the ambitions of his previous self, and not his whole self. The feeling of not being whole tugged at Ged as he thought to himself how he might return back to reality once more.

Manduka saw Ged's understanding and moved on to the next round in the game.

"Pain is what I see." Manduka moved one of the orbs on the board.

The expanse changed to reveal a new perspective. It was now an advanced city-like landscape with tall skyscrapers. Blue-outlined people were walking around on concrete sidewalks, and the streets were devoid of vehicles.

Ged looked at the new perspective with confusion. Never had he seen something quite like it; the city landscape felt magical in his eyes. But in sharp contrast was the statement from Manduka. Ged pondered what the core meaning of it might be. Looking beyond the buildings and the blue-tinted outlines of people, Ged could see the remnants of an older building hidden behind the newer designs.

A product of a changing dynamic between the old and the new.

On some of the newer buildings, he also noticed cracks in the walls left from the passage of time. He guessed the perspective of Manduka's was like that of a reverend who saw the pain in the world brought about through the passage of time.

Ged visualized a scene which he thought best represented this concept and moved one of the pieces on the board.

"Time is what I see."

The background around Ged and Manduka shifted, and in its place, an image of the erosion of a stream's bank due to the passing of time emerged. As the two sat on the chairs, Manduka looked at the eroding bank with narrowed, disappointed eyes.

"Are you trying to tell me that this cliffside has changed due to time?" Manduka asked.

Ged nodded at Manduka.

"I don't like that perspective. Not one bit," Manduka shook his head.

"Consider to yourself why the stream erodes the bank, and why the bank lets the stream run its path. Is it because time allows it too? Time itself becomes warped when it is near massive objects like black holes and distorted when an object travels at high speeds. If time itself can change, then how can you be certain it dictates change in the real world?" Manduka stared expectantly at Ged.

Ged looked at Manduka, attempting to answer, "How else would you document the change in things?"

Manduka frowned. "Time is truly a concept made by humans." He rolled his eyes. "Why must someone document the present? What, so he can predict the future?"

Ged stared blankly at Manduka.

"The humans are so amped up about their time that they have documented their entire worthless history. They have tricked their minds into thinking that the past is the present, and they are now living in the future. What they don't realize is that the future is different, the present is now, and the past is obsolete."

"I'm sorry, but I will be stealing your question for this round."

Manduka took a serious face to ask, "What do you think the future of humanity is?"

Ged took a second to fully understand the obscurity of the question. He thought quietly to come up with a possible answer.

After a brief deliberation, all he could think up was perhaps humanity's future was like his. He pondered to find a binding element that made up his future to be his future.

But he couldn't find anything that was concrete enough for an answer. The question was too vague to understand. His best guess was just that the future would be "different."

"The future of existence is to be different than the present," Ged finally answered.

Manduka stared longingly at Ged. "Your answer is too vague to be correct. For the future and end of humanity..."

"Is to become obsolete," Manduka finished with a wicked grin.

Manduka explained his reasoning. "The fundamental law governing everything is to become obsolete. Animals procreate not for the pursuit of happiness, survival, or adherence to the 'law of the fittest,' but rather as a means of replacing themselves. The future of the future is the present, the future of the present is the past, and the past is obsolete."

"This is what's called the ladder of obsolescence."

"Even if humans stood at the very peak of existence and controlled all of creation, understanding its every single nook and cranny, they would still find themselves to become obsolete."

Ged thought to himself quietly, pondering over the truth of such a statement.

Manduka made the next move on the chessboard.

"The cycle of everything," he announced.

Ged and Manduka now sat by a vast, spiraling whirlpool in the ocean.

Ged looked out at the spiraling waters to ponder its meaning.

In the ocean spiral, he saw floating debris spinning at various distances away from its center. The debris seemed to follow a uniform circular pattern as it spiraled around the eye of the vortex. Ged looked closer at the center point, trying to understand where the spiraling began from. Peering deep within the eye, he found what seemed to be an even deeper spiral.

Ged frowned at the spiraling ocean image.

Initially, he perceived the floating debris as a representation of reality, and the rest of the spiral symbolized the cycle of everything. However, after observing the deeper spiral, he doubted the accuracy of this interpretation. Drawing from the lesson of his previous judgment in the game, he resolved to consider the perspective more carefully.

He scrutinized the debris more closely and noticed that with each rotation around the swell, it curved inward toward its center. In contrast, he observed the water at its center moving at impossibly high speeds. The water flowed in the opposite direction of the debris, escaping toward the edges of the whirlpool.

Continuing his pondering, he considered his own place in the perspective. It was at this point that he took a closer look at one of the pieces of debris—its appearance a simple wood chip, yet on closer inspection, Ged discerned faint lines of disintegration along its edges.

This wood chip was once much larger than it appeared now, but where did it go? Ged reflected on his own mortality, contemplating his journey into the great unknown gray, the splitting headaches he endured, and Manduka's use of the words 'assimilating with eternity.'

As a piece of the wood chip broke off and dissolved deep into the waters, Ged finally had a revelation. The wood chip merged with the ocean much like his own existence had begun to merge with eternity. The ocean represented everything, and Ged's enlightened being was akin to foreign debris within its waters.

Ged finally made a move on the chessboard.

"Everything," he declared.

The background transformed from a smudgy backdrop of a spiral of reddish-gray smoke, with specks of greenish-gray slowly merging with the red to create a representation of the present. The closer to the center, the faster the rotation speed. Amidst the merging gray swirls were emerald-green specks of debris rotating in the opposite direction, gradually losing their emerald color and descending toward the central swirl.

Manduka looked at the perspective with praising eyes. "Much better. Your perspective has improved considerably since your first move," Manduka praised.

"It was all thanks to your guidance that I could reach this conclusion," Ged smiled, looking at Manduka thankfully. "However, I still feel like something is missing."

Manduka considered Ged's comment before responding, "That is simple. You are missing mass from your perspective."

"Now, Ged, I have enjoyed our time together, but let me be frank. I will not be making another move on this game board. After your question, our time together will end."

Ged nodded in understanding.

"Now, ask your final question." Manduka commanded.

"How can I return to reality?" Ged asked.