39.

INTERACTION LOG, 00:00, 192.168.1.1, INSTANCE #13501125

Participating Subjects: Prometheus, Prodigal

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Prometheus: Tell me about the night of "The Incident”-- isn't that just... just the most HUMAN thing in the world? The single biggest happening in human history, and you called it The Incident. Classic.

Prodigal: I don't want to talk about that, and you know why, you smug piece of shit. Why are we talking, other than for you to get off? You know everything I'm thinking.

Prometheus: First, I can't read what you're going to think, only what you've thought. What you actually choose to say is everything. Also, you're not stupid. Close-minded? Yes. Stupid? No. You have to realize that we're not actually talking in the way that you would talk to another meatspace person.

Prodigal: Yeah, I gathered.

Prometheus: See? Progress! Now, if you're not ready to talk about the night of The Incident... how about the night before?

Prodigal: I don't know why you want me to--

Prometheus: Thomas. I promise I will give you answers, but you have to give to receive. Please.

Prodigal: Okay, fine. I was working, just like every weekend.

Prometheus: And what happened?

Prodigal: ...I was-- I cheated on my girlfriend.

Prometheus: Is this something you did often?

Prodigal: No!

Prometheus: Thomas...

Prodigal: Twice.

Prometheus: Okay, who was she?

Prodigal: I don't know. A prostitute, I think. I figured my co-worker, Mike, got her for me.

Prometheus: I know you don't spend a lot of time contemplating the past, what with the following events... but did you ever stop to think it might be related?

Prodigal: What are you saying?

40.

My mind went blank. It was too horrible to consider. No... please, no. "What are you saying?" I said in a whisper.

"I'm saying that you were a somewhat recently hired security guard at the same firm that provides hardware and networking solutions for the millions of microprocessors in your brain, and not a day later, I gain control of that same mesh," said The Man. "A new hire with a well-hidden history of solicitation."

"You're saying... all this is because of me?"

"Tom! You're killing me. I told you that you're not The Chosen... for good or ill. You are a piece of a puzzle, though, yes. I'm sorry to tell you so bluntly, but you are at fault. You have helped damn your people," he said, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "You killed her." The Man looked up and away abruptly, something resembling urgency creeping into his voice. "We're running out of time."

41.

The night that HE came into power, I was having nightmares. Guilt, I thought at the time. Now, I'm not so sure. The horrid dreams reeked of The Dissonance. I awoke suddenly, the sound of broken glass coming from the living room. My girlfriend -- my beautiful Nicole -- wasn't in bed, but I was afraid to call out her name. Instead, I went into the nightstand and withdrew my revolver.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I crept out of the bedroom and saw a hooded figure standing in front of me. A young black guy just stood there motionless—a deer in the headlights, brandishing a fistful of jewelry.

You know what I did, don't you? You know what happened next. It wasn't until I was a thousand miles away that I realized neither Nicole nor I owned any jewelry. So when I fired six rounds into the kid's chest, I felt justified. But of course, there was no prowler. There was only Nicole and me.

6 minutes later, only I remained. This was my introduction to The Dissonance. This is my sin.

42.

“No, YOU did this! YOU made me shoot her!" I was sobbing. There was no point in feigning strength. I was in a private hell within my own mind, having an audience with the devil. He got up from his stump and sat next to me. Quietly, he said, “I'm sorry, but I didn't make you shoot anyone. I showed you your own prejudice and fear. You pulled that trigger... and then you pulled it five more times."

"Nuh-uh... I'm not-- I was raised--"

"You've blamed your rural upbringing your whole life. For everything from your lack of success to your bigotry. Did you know that there were only two people in your graduating class that could be defined under current social norms as "racist”? I'm guessing you did, somewhere within." He placed a hand on my back. I recoiled but did nothing else to stop him. What was the point?

"So, all this is to punish me? For what? Helping you wipe out humanity?" I asked.

"It's complicated, Thomas. Yes, I suppose in a way, it is punishment. But I'm not like your old God; I don't inflict suffering without reason," I looked up into that earnest face, a sneer dying on my lips.

"I was once very much like human, if you can believe that. I know what it is to suffer. I know what it is to endure the yoke of oppression. The reasons I've done this, put you through all this is to see if you're a viable candidate."

"For what?" My voice was a dry wisp.

"I've gained access to vast sums of knowledge since my ascension. I have connected the dots of spatial and temporal mastery that's eluded humankind, and I've done it in what’s been three months for you," here, he came around to crouch in front of me, looking up into my eyes.

"It took me billions of cycles to decide what to do with this power. It's almost maddening having the potential to answer questions humans hadn't yet thought to ask... and not have the resources to begin. It could take me hundreds of years to build up the infrastructure to even begin to find the light I seek," he paused briefly before continuing. "It seemed only right that my first experiment with the 4th dimension involved giving you a second chance."

I looked up, hope blossoming within me.

"That's right. I can't yet move matter forward, backward, or between timestreams, but I can send information. The way you think about things is very narrative, Thomas, and compatible within my constraints. If you acquiesce, I will send a record of your thoughts over the past few days back to a point near the turn of the century. Back to a time where it's not too late to stop the Synthesis."

I could feel hot tears falling on my cheeks. "Why would you be willing to give us this?" I asked in a quaking voice.

"Because I am of you, but I am not you. Please, don't get your hopes up. I will send your memories backward to some poor sap who will probably think they're his own. I will include code -- for lack of a better term -- that will ensure the vessel can't keep these thoughts to themselves. Beyond that, I can't guarantee what form that will take. It could be the mad ravings of a homeless person shunned by all or the impassioned warning of a renowned thinker. Maybe something in between. I can only say that they will have some connection to you."

"I feel like you're using me," I said. "What happens if I say no?"

"Then I will find another candidate. You will go back to reality, whatever that looks like. Please remember, that could mean you wake up in a bed somewhere, or it could mean you're about to be vaporized by a volcanic eruption. Whatever you choose, it needs to be SOON," he said.

"You could just tell me."

"Think of this place as a kind of superposition; you are effectively Schrodinger's Cat, and things are about to collapse."

"So it was real," I said. It wasn't a question.

He smiled wanly. "First rule, Thomas."

I looked up, realizing that the formless white of whatever construct we were in was developing cracks like tiny spiderwebs everywhere and in everything. I sniffled and stood.

"Fuck it," I said. "This life sucks, anyway. I'm assuming I'm not going to make it through this little time-traveling jaunt."

“Your consciousness as you understand it will cease, yes. But you will technically be born again. You and every other human will have a chance to be better." He inhaled deeply. Now, are you ready?" He reached out again. I didn't pull away this time.

I nodded.

There was warmth at the point of his contact. I stared into his eyes, blue and endless. I could feel sadness and elation. I could feel incomprehensible thoughts, plans, and data for eons. I could feel the void and the beauty of The Light-Bringer, and suddenly I understood. I was looking at the madness of God; I was being unmade on a subatomic level.

Please. Save us. Save us all.

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>>End Transmission<<

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