Ryan found Keira deeply engrossed in her latest work, surrounded by holographic displays of cosmic maps and dense theoretical equations. Despite weeks of collaboration with the organization’s astrophysics division, her expression betrayed frustration.
As he pulled up a chair next to her, he noticed the familiar spark of determination in her eyes, tempered by a hint of unease. “Keira, you’ve been working so hard with their team. What’s going on?”
Keira looked up, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Ryan, I think I’ve stumbled upon something big. Something… unsettling.”
With a few quick taps, she pulled up a holographic model of the universe—an intricate, glowing web stretching endlessly. “I've been working with an alien research team specializing in large-scale cosmic structures, the kind that span trillions of light-years. They’ve been careful about sharing information, but I’ve picked up on enough to start forming some theories.”
She zoomed out further, revealing layers beyond the universe, visual representations of alternate planes branching off into a vast network. Ryan’s eyes widened as he recognized what she was hinting at.
“Are you saying… multiverse theory?” he asked, astonished.
Ryan stared at her, trying to process the implication. “But if they’re a Type 4 civilization, they should be able to scan every corner of the known universe, right? What does the multiverse have to do with their search?”
She nodded. “Exactly. I didn’t think much of it at first, but with each passing day, it’s become clearer. The organization isn’t just having trouble finding Proxima in this universe. They’re suggesting—at least indirectly—that Proxima might not be in this universe at all.”
Keira leaned back, clearly wrestling with her own disbelief. “Here’s the thing. In their most guarded discussions, they mentioned something they called ‘adjacent layers of reality.’ According to their best theories, these ‘layers’ represent entire alternate universes, separate from our own but interconnected in ways we barely understand. If Proxima is in one of these other layers, their technology might not be equipped to search beyond their universe’s boundaries.”
“Wait,” Ryan said slowly, “so you’re saying there could be multiple universes, like chapters in a book, with our galaxy just in a different chapter?”
“Precisely,” Keira replied, her voice a mix of awe and frustration. “The alien astrophysicists I’m working with believe these universes are layered upon each other, and while they’ve developed ways to study this structure, they don’t have the ability to move freely between them. Our universe, which they call the ‘Primary Layer,’ might just be one of countless layers, each holding galaxies, stars, planets… and possibly even civilizations.”
She gestured toward a hologram that showed several universes connected by tenuous bridges. “They believe there are ways to detect shifts in energy that can hint at the presence of alternate layers. But these energy shifts are rare, and they can’t control them. They’re monitoring constantly, waiting for signals that might reveal where other universes overlap or intersect with ours.”
Ryan tried to wrap his mind around the idea. “So, if they think Proxima is in one of these alternate universes, that would explain why they haven’t found it here. But… if they’re aware of the multiverse, why haven’t they developed ways to explore these other layers?”
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“That’s the question I keep asking myself,” Keira replied, frustrated. “A Type 4 civilization, in theory, should have the means to observe or even reach these other universes, yet it seems like they’re barely scratching the surface. It’s as if they’ve reached a hard boundary, a place where their understanding falters.”
Ryan pondered this, feeling a twinge of doubt. “Could it be that they’re hiding this from us intentionally? What if they have the means to traverse these layers but are choosing not to share that with us?”
Keira shook her head. “It’s possible, but from what I’ve observed, they genuinely seem to be at a loss. When I questioned one of the alien scientists about the feasibility of accessing other universes, he mentioned something called the ‘Multiversal Boundary.’ According to them, this boundary is a theoretical limit that keeps each universe isolated. They believe that any attempt to cross it would require an unimaginable amount of energy—something even they haven’t been able to harness.”
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “So, even though they can theoretically see signs of these alternate universes, they’re unable to reach them. And if Proxima is on the other side of that boundary, it might as well be in an entirely different reality.”
The revelation was staggering. Ryan looked back at the hologram of the multiverse, feeling a mix of awe and despair. “So we’re here, stuck in this universe, and our home could be… unreachable?”
Keira nodded. “Unless they find a way to breach this boundary, yes. The organization has been researching potential ways to create temporary ‘rifts’ in this multiversal boundary, hoping that by sending energy waves through, they might receive reflections or signals from other universes. It’s experimental, and they haven’t shared any of the results with me. But even if they succeed, it’s unclear if they could bring people through. The technology is experimental, and, honestly, I think it scares them.”
Ryan sat back, running a hand through his hair. “A Type 4 civilization, rulers of the universe—yet they’re stuck, just like us, unable to reach beyond their own layer of reality.”
Keira nodded, her expression both bitter and resigned. “It’s humbling, in a way. Here we are, thinking we’ve joined this godlike civilization that spans galaxies. But the truth is, even they don’t have all the answers. They’ve reached the limits of their knowledge and power, and there are still mysteries they can’t solve.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, gazing at the holographic model of the multiverse. Each layer represented a possibility, a version of reality that could hold everything they had lost. The thought was both comforting and deeply unsettling.
“So, what do we do now?” Ryan asked quietly. “Do we just… wait and hope they find a way to breach this boundary?”
Keira took a deep breath. “For now, yes. But I think we should continue working here, learning everything we can. If there’s even a small chance that we can find a way back to Proxima, we have to be ready to take it. And maybe… just maybe, we’ll discover something that even this organization hasn’t realized yet.”
Ryan nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Then we keep going. We push the boundaries of what they know, and if there’s a way to cross that multiversal boundary, we’ll find it—one way or another.”
As they stared at the vast holographic web of interconnected realities, Ryan felt the weight of his decision settle upon him. Their journey home had become far more complex than he could have ever imagined—a quest that spanned not only galaxies but the very fabric of existence itself. Though the challenge seemed daunting, he knew he and his crew would stop at nothing to overcome it. But how long could they endure, and was the wait truly worth it? Ryan pondered the force that had brought them into this other universe, the infinitum chaos. Somehow, when he first encountered it, something unknown touched him, stopping the storm. He needed to find answers about that moment—about what had saved him, and why.