The Netherworlds

As the Catapult landed in Marilyn’s technical moat, important matters brewed elsewhere. On each of the 4,363 worlds connected to the Nexus, a nervous Ambassador awaited in silence, portal open. The faintest vibration, noise, sent back could mean death for the Ambassador’s world. For as long as anyone could remember, millions of years on Earth, the original world who bound the first string to the Nexus was scheduled to appear. This primary world, called simply The Lower, controlled the Nexus and it’s heart, The Dot.

Something of critical importance forced the Ancients from the first world to end millions of years of reclusion. Many Ambassadors suggested The Lower, the world of these Ancient creatures, was no longer relevant in the Multiverse or yet, had vanished. They were a minute from being proven spectacularly wrong.

No one could remember when these powerful creatures were last present on the Nexus or why they left. They had, for eons, avoided their own creation. Written legends teach how the Ancients, born in a deep world gave birth to the verbal communication bridge uniting worlds. They named it the Nexus from its nature as a place where lines are drawn between worlds. The Netherworlds is a place under all worlds where in theory it exists.

By law, the bridge had to remain the only channel between worlds in the Multiverse to avoid secrecy or damage to the Multiverse herself. Opening a different direct pathway, between adjacent realities condemned a world to nothing less than extinction. The Nexus exists because the Multiverse is genuinely impermeable to matter or waves, nothing physical can translate between the layers. There is no door, bridge, or even travel. Only energy can permeate between the invisible barriers separating worlds the same way sound or heat can permeate between adjacent hotel rooms. The reason is simple, each world, each layer of the Multiverse is built on different fundamental laws of physics. In each place, the fabric of life itself differs. The nature of the parts of the Multiverse mirrors how vinegar and oil float in a heated lava lamp or a marbled cake.

Old tales, legends, describe how the god-like creatures living in the Lower, frustrated by the inability to physically travel between worlds left them doing the next best thing, bully everyone else into submission. But even that went so far and after hundreds of millions of years, they grew tired and more reclusive.

At first there were two worlds connected to the Nexus, then three. One by one, as each world forming the Multiverse reach a level of technology sufficient to hurt neighbors, it becomes relevant. The Ancients wait patiently and by twisting the mere fabric of space, they can create an energetic points used to talk to a new world. Had Earth became relevant, it would have seen a portal blink and with simple Morse-like code would have become part of the Nexus.

The creatures of the Lower force open a link in the Nexus and give this new world a seat at this exclusive table in exchange to adherence to a strict code of conduct. Joining the Nexus comes with the valuable encyclopedic lore of everything that has ever transpired over the bridge. The priceless historical lore includes a transcript of each discussion ever held and a crash course in physics.

Since each world is built on a unique set of laws of physics, but a common mathematical truth, worlds and realities tend to vary wildly. The Nexus in a first world may look like a mirror, in the next the heart of a Nova. Mathematicians call these anchors between worlds singularities, or points tied to some type of infinite property of space. A singularity to a scientist is difficult to explain, but to ordinary people is much simpler. At the heart of every tornado is a point of quietness. Every funnel, to exist, needs a singularity where wind speed is zero. No vortex can exist by its own nature without its singularity. A head of hair has a rosace, a point where the skull is visible. The same is true for everything in life.

The Nexus is no highway built of stone. To visualize the fragile network, one should picture dangling strings in the air tied between balconies over a dirty New York alley. Strings blowing on a windy day on which laundry is tied. The Nexus is a fragile network of non-centralized links that crosses the Netherworlds of the Multiverse.

More importantly, the Ancients tied ropes from a central singularly from their world called simply the Dot, a powerful singularity of unequal power.

As one should expect, the use of the Nexus is highly regulated. Each world names a creature called the Ambassador. The prestigious title is passed down for centuries. In most layers, the title of Ambassador is held by the most influential life form. Information over the Nexus is exchanged at a very slow pace; each world has equal rights to listen and speak, so delays are important in the long chain of communication. Words often must travel hundreds of branches before they are heard by all. In the best scenario, a faint voice is transmitted. Most often, Ambassadors must decode a series of beeps and silences to reconstruct a text.

Today, the powerful creatures of the Lower are scheduled to attend. Cynics believe for them, voice and not simple beeps will conveniently be available. The “Gods” from the Lower are the feared enforcers of the law of the Multiverse, and have in the past extinguished entire worlds in violation of their rules. No one alive, in any of the 4,362 worlds, has ever spoken or even heard the voice of a creature from the Lower.

***

Today's session opened at the request of the Ambassador from a small quantum world on the edge of the border surrounding the Multiverse, one called the Purple. In it lives the Metils, a belligerent race of rock-shaped quantum constructions. Because the rules of the Nexus require worlds to select a polite and respectful Ambassador, and since everyone from the Purple is rude, the creature talking is a simple powerless mouthpiece.

Today, the Nexus will open as wide as it can. The subject given by the Metil Ambassador is of grave concern to every world: The Cold Lives.

To anyone with even a basic understanding of universal dynamic, the Cold is the greatest potential problem to all. The Cold is a bordering world known to every living organism in the Multiverse. This place, like most city sewer systems, remains one of the greatest mysteries. It is named so because cooling energy leaves other worlds, slows and vanishes, is is imagined to enter The Cold. Everyone believes this lost place is dark, cold, and lifeless. Nothing can exist in The Cold but death at such low energy levels.

Other folk stories suggest everything borders the Cold where dead souls are believed to travel before they resurface elsewhere. The Cold is, plainly said, the garbage dumpster of the Multiverse.

***

The Nexus powered up slowly as millions of joules ripped the singularities open one by one. The doorways began to hum. In places the gates resonated or shone with color. In every world, there was purring, that was the sound of the natural equilibrium of the Nexus. The Multiverse as people communicated sustained wounds. The low humming noise was called the great silence if anyone cared. After a long wait, the communication bridge finally began to send sound. What came next would be the most important conversation ever to be broadcasted over the Nexus.

***

"Salutations," spoke the very nervous Metil Ambassador from the Purple.

"Salutations," replied the Moderator from the Nexus. Eons ago, the Ancients delegated to one world the role of Moderator. The Creatures knew enough and would keep pleasantries to a minimum.

The creature from the Purple resumed, "Life and intelligence exist in the Cold, it destroys our world. We are dying." There were murmurs in the other worlds, but they quickly these fell silent.

"Impossible," replied the Moderator trying to remain stoic. There was no need to waste time to identify who spoke over the Nexus.

Everyone knew the place called simply the Cold. The Metil Ambassador continued, "We have direct evidence that life in the Cold exists. It is also highly intelligent. It has now developed powerful technology, hurtful tools."

Before the Moderator could answer, strange bells and chimes began to ring. They filled the gateway with a ballet of sound. No one knew such a music could travel the Nexus, nor what meaning it held but it inspired respect. The Moderator and the thousands of Ambassadors waited in silence. The bells continued for a while. This sounded like a forgotten language.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Finally, the sound stopped to let a stern male voice speak. "The Metil speaks truth, life exists in the Cold. We have known for some time. It is beautiful, meaningful and shines above us all." The discernibly annoyed voice was that of an Ancient from the Lower.

"We are greatly honored," replied the Metil Ambassador.

"Silence!” snapped the creature from the Lowest. "Time may be short, tell others of your intentions and actions." The Metil ambassador shook in fear alone in his Purple world. He knew what he was dealing with, the survival of his world.

"There is life in the Cold, it is highly intelligent and technologically advanced,” repeated nervously the creature. The Ambassador had just violated one of the most important rules of the Nexus. Redundancy was forbidden and wasteful; if something had been said, it should not be repeated for any reason.

What came next from the Ancient was rather unexpected for a creature most vied as deity. "We should have extinguished your world eons ago, imbeciles.” The creature from the Lower did not hold back. Every participant on the Nexus owed a duty of respect to other Ambassadors; there were no insults allowed here. Obviously the Ancients were free from this rule. They continued, "Your race, with a single exception today, is a nuisance to the Multiverse. If the boy called Malik dies, your reality will be destroyed. We know of your intentions and we know of your hostile actions. Stop wasting time and energy. Speak or die. The others must know of your insolence, it may doom them all."

There was a long silence.

The Metil Ambassador took the threat seriously. "The creatures from the Cold are opening deadly rifts in the fabric between my world and theirs. The technology is causing unprecedented destruction. Raw energy is flowing into our world in the form of rivers of Zexs."

The chimes sounded a high note. The Mediator took his cue, "Ancient One, I beg for permission to respond."

"You may. You have served the Nexus faithfully. We honor your words. Talking to such an primitive life is strolling to us." The Ancient's tone was more pleasant with the Mediator.

The moderate voice continued, "You describe destruction, that implies energetic levels above these theoretical thresholds. Please explain. How can there be intelligence, much less one capable of opening rips in any fabric between your world and this place. You must be mistaken."

The Metil knew his next words would be critical. "Moderator, we dream your words were truth. Arriving at our conclusion took longer than anticipated because of the Metil's adherence to this common understanding that nothing can exist in the Cold. The Venerable One confirms our observations. The Cold holds complex and beautiful life. It is vast beyond our imagination. Trillions of lifeforms live on points called planets, stars." The Metil Ambassador was making his case. "We do not fully understand the physics of the Cold, our information is still partial, but..." He knew how ridiculous the rest would sound: "We managed to collect direct images from this new world."

"Images? How can this be possible?" Few were able to contain themselves. "Was there exchange of information through a newly uncovered singularity between your world and the Cold?”

There was a long pause. The Ambassador was consulting his own world's experts before he answered. He ventured, "The Cold has reached out. My words will appear implausible, yet they remain true. We have prepared a report. Please read it before judging us. We ask permission from the Moderator to transmit. The complexity of the Cold is beyond ordinary physics. Their world seems to be..." The ambassador was bracing himself for the feedback. "...united by a single equation. It is the unified world."

"Unity?" the Mediator exploded, in shock.

"Yes."

The laws of physics were different in every slice of the Multiverse. The laws which bound each realm also served to protect them from other realms. Each world was built on laws with elemental forces and energy, each law regulating a force inherent to the fabric of the space in that area of the Multiverse. Most worlds of the Multiverse were defined by seven to nine laws. One world was the envy of others with only five forces and three laws. Legends suggested the Lower was based two laws only. No reality was defined by one. In fact, no theory ever postulated allowed for it.

The voice from the Lower return, "We confirm. Unity is a theoretical possibility. We have proved it. It is improbable unity is present in the Cold.” He continued. "The Purple' is full of contrast, your report is partial and must be updated. The findings of your young scientist, Rullik are impressive," added the Ancient. “He has reconstructed the Cold’s large physical construct and understood gravitational pulls from ether deformation. We believe he is a dreamer.”

No one had a clue what the Ancient was referring to. The Moderator continued, "Thank you, oh great and wise one. Ambassador, we must point out that of your own admission, you have engaged in research into this newly discovered dimension. This research must have taken time, during which, you willfully withheld this information from us."

The Metil replied, "As you will see in the report, the world we all call the Cold seems to have evolved beyond our scale. It operates at a much larger dimension. It is vast without border."

"Nothing is boundless."

"We know. The creatures alive in the Cold are each made of trillions of particles. At such a large scale, most of the weaker forces will shift. This very weak force acts over very large distances. Points of infinite compression exist in the Cold." The Metil continued. "We now know there is life in the Cold, and its complexity is shocking. The Cold is vast, larger than any of our worlds. Millions of Metils have already died. We cannot tolerate the situation; we must end this destruction."

A female voice spoke next on the Nexus, it probably was an Ancient since she was unknown to the Ambassadors. "Metil, what you say is of paramount importance. Since time began, we have found no door to the Cold, no singularity. Many worlds are dying as energy abandons them. If the Cold has such abundant energy, it may be the solution we have been seeking desperately to rekindle life in some worlds. We must know more. The survival of many dying worlds depends upon it."

There was a ping. The Mediator knew it was his time to speak next. "How did you get this valuable information about the Cold? Have they contacted you, is there a singularity?"

"Please believe me, the words I am about to pronounce sound equally ridiculous to us." There was another silence.

"Answer." There was a new voice on the bridge, it was not forceful but robotic.

"We... We... One of us has entered into direct communication with them, went there and returned."

There was a gasp.

"Your scientists cannot be allowed to open singularities."

"No, you misunderstand. One of us, a boy, slipped into a rift between our worlds. Our creature entered and walked into the Cold. The creatures from the Cold have interacted with us directly. One followed us and came back briefly into our world before it returned in its world." There was an cacophony of voices over the Nexus. The Metil continued, "Many catastrophic effects have begun to appear in the Purple, killing millions. The rifts are flows of deadly energy. They wipe out entire portions of our world. The energy levels are beyond imagination. Flows of spinning Zexs crash into our cities. The rifts had patterns of appearance, moving from one location to the next before closing. With time, more rifts began opening. Little remain of the Purple, but our world is dying."

The Moderator spoke. "We will not waste time questioning. We will read. Understanding is always a wise prerequisite to action. Maybe the Nexus can help you."

"There is more."

"Speak," snapped the annoyed creature from the Lower.

"A young entity from our world was assigned the surveillance of one of the rifts as it opened. Because of the danger, we sent one of our least valuable assets. He was to stay safely at a distance, in the back of the rift. What came next we know to be true. We uploaded visual information from his recorder to confirm it. He somehow was able to look into the rift, perceive the other world, and move through it directly. He moved physically into the window entering the Cold. Once there, he made contact with a sentient being, a creature named Sophie."

"Your tale is fiction. Nothing you say is even remotely conceivable from a physics perspective. The size difference between your world and the Cold alone is... unbelievable. Was any Metil technology used that would explain this strange story?"

"None except a scaler. We often use a personal guide called a scaler, a device that allows us to stream in self-similarity. This is a movement device, to teleport in space. Our kind only scales downwardly, into the smaller. We compress, move, and return to our original size. We are unable to scale upwardly, yet as part of this boy did the opposite. He scaled up. He even returned to us twice his original size."

"Ambassador, this tale is complex; farcical at best," replied the Moderator.

The Ancient interrupted, "No. He tells the truth. You are telling us these deadly rifts are pouring flows of energy and destroying entire cities in your world, yet a single individual walked into one, socialized on the other side, and came back alive."

"Yes, that is precisely what I say. We also refused to believe him until we reviewed his recorded memory. But the situation gets even stranger. Our individual actually changed in the Cold into a new physical form to adapt to the material limitations of the Cold. In the other world, his body was no more, language was no barrier. Our citizen talked directly with an entity from the Cold. This creature was able to simply follow our guard as he made his way back into our world. The Sophie began to move in our world, without body. Like a god. Her words alone were so powerful, they almost killed our curious guard."

"She? You give a gender to this creature?"

"Yes, it had gender, it called itself Sophie, female."

"This Metil must be interrogated," said a voice over the Nexus.

"The individual escaped and returned to the Cold. Through our empathic bond, we feel he is not dead, but he is no longer in our world."

There was a long silence.

"Escaped? You arrested him?"

"Before we could review the data stored in his recorder, we did not believe his story. He abandoned his post, and was put under restraint. We returned with him to the same rift. His contact with these creatures, with the one called Sophie was obviously made at a deep mental level. When the rift reopened, he saw her and entered the Cold. We confirm he alone sees these visions and can pass between worlds. Others have died trying."

"We understand, and we feel your pain. However, the importance of the situation warrants careful study before action. We will need all your data, all your research," said the Moderator. "If the ctreature returns, you are not to interfere with him. If Sophie return, you also may not engage with hostility.”

"Agreed," said the Metil Ambassador to the Moderator.

Then after a long silence, the voice from the Lower added in disdain, “Now speak of your war with the Cold.”