I spent the next few hours explaining the nature of reality to Charles. I told him about the infinite divide, about the lawmakers, about the Good Directorate and about Eureka. I explained that he was a copy of a copy of a copy, one that had degraded away as it was endlessly printed into existence by machine life for one hundred million years.

I told him that I was born a girl on an Earth entirely unlike the city of Eureka. I told Charles about my passion for urbex, my best friend Pavel, my workshop and my motorbike. I told him how I touched the elephant’s foot in Chernobyl and how it dragged my soul across dimensions to Andross.

Pacing on the iron and cardboard covered billboard floor I regaled him with a tale of my new life on Andross as a chimera stripling. I explained to him how I studied to be a cendai, how I found the body of Grogtilda in the effed up mind-raping forest of Folding trees. I told him how I went to Illatius where I met my first human friend–the Inspector of Lomb and made many others my friends, figuring out the nature of magic and the nature of everything really.

I held nothing back, revealing to Charles how I met Infinity Paradox Proxima and how I opened the gate to Eureka’s ruins and destroyed, doomed one of Andross-worlds to deconstruction via consumption by the Dead Zone. I told him how I figured out the nature of infinity and Endy and how I became more than just Juni or Grogtilda, how I connected with my other selves, copies of my souls manufactured by an ever-growing, infinite machinery of the stars.

When I was done, Charles simply stared at me with big blue eyes.

“You realise how insane all of this sounds, right?” He asked.

“You saw me do magic. Do you want to see more magic, Charles?” I snapped my fingers producing a multi-colored light fractal floating between my fingers. “See? Magic.”

“T-that could be some kind of a hologram,” Charles huffed. “Projected by this billboard. For all I know is that you hacked this billboard just to mess with me.”

“Seems like a rather unnecessarily elaborate prank, no?” I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, let's say for a moment that I believe you," Charles said, crossing his arms. "You're telling me my entire life is fake? That I'm some kind of... clone or something?"

I nodded. "Essentially, yes. You're a copy, printed by the city of Eureka into existence.”

“I… I have a job, an apartment... memories..." Charles protested.

“Some memories,” I pointed out. “Not all. Think hard - do you remember any specifics? Names of childhood friends? Your first kiss? Or is it all just vague impressions? How could I have erased that?”

“I don’t freaking know, okay?” Charles huffed. “I… you’re derailing my entire life.”

“You don’t have a life, Charles,” I shot back. “You’re just doing the same thing over and over in an endless chain.”

"So what you're saying is that I'm not real," Charles growled, the black and white patches on his jacket rearranging themselves ever so slightly.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," I shook my head. "You're very real. You're just as real as I am. You're a person, Charles. You have thoughts and feelings and dreams. You're just as real as anyone else. The only difference is that you were created by machine life instead of being born naturally."

"But I'm not the original Charles," he said.

“Does that really matter?” I asked. “I’m not the original Yulia either, I’m some kind of an amalgamation of souls that correlate to me with knowledge and power greater than my singular self. Hell, I don’t even know if my original self died in Chernobyl!”

“I thought that you got back to your Earth,” Charles commented.

“Maybe I did,” I said. “Maybe I just opened the way to another, similar Earth. That’s the problem with infinity… I can never be sure what’s the original anymore.”

“So what’s the point of it all?!” Charles snarled. It looked like he wanted to go board the train and to return to his office, to return to a life that made sense to his mind.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

"The point is that you have a choice now," I said. "You can choose to keep living the life that was manufactured for you, or you can choose to break free and forge your own path. You're not bound by the rules of Eureka anymore."

Charles ran his hands through his messy black hair, looking distressed.

"But what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "If everything I know is fake, what's left?"

"Anything you want," I smiled. "That's the beauty of it. You can choose your own purpose now. Explore the city, learn new things, meet new people. Help me figure out how to save everyone else trapped in this endless cycle."

Charles was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the bustling city below.

"I don't know if I can handle all this," he finally said. "It’s all so absurd, so insane…”

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"I know it's a lot to process," I said gently. "But you don't have to face it alone. I'm here to help you.”

He looked at me, uncertainty in his blue eyes. "Why me? Why did you choose to tell me all this?"

"Because I've met other versions of you before," I explained. "In other realities. Maybe I could connect you to more of your… other selves, make you more like me. It… it's kind of getting lonely being the only multidimensional being, knowing all of this shit and not having a shoulder to lean on.”

“Yeahh… I’m not sure if I want to overwrite what I am,” Charles said. “Won’t shoving some other Charle’s memories into my head obliterate my current self?”

“Eh,” I shrugged. “It’s not so bad. It’s just more…”

“More what?” Charles demanded.

“More understanding,” I said. “More power, more potential to fix things everywhere.”

“I still don’t see the point,” he said. “If there are infinite mes, infinite doomed worlds, infinite suffering then whatever it is you’re trying to do won’t matter in the slightest.”

“Wow, much pessimism,” I huffed. “Very depresso.”

Charles squinted at me. He was definitely judging me.

"Look, I get it," I said. "Just because there are infinite worlds doesn't mean our actions don't matter. Every choice we make creates ripples across reality. We can still make a difference, even if it's just in our local sphere of influence, even if it’s just between me and you here and now.”

Charles sighed heavily.

"How about we start small then?" I suggested. "Instead of worrying about infinite worlds, let's focus on this one. On you. What do you want to do with your life now that you know the truth?"

He was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city. "I... I don't know. I've never really thought about what I want. If I don’t go back to work I’ll get fired. How am I going to afford rent and food if that happens?”

“Behold,” I waved a hand at my boxes of stolen food piled into the corner of the billboard’s iron latticework. “Snacks!”

I went to a box, pried it open and pulled out a candy bar labelled [Crunchy Bar].

“Want one?” I asked.

Charles eyed the crunchy bar suspiciously.

I unwrapped the candy bar and bit into it. It tasted like sugar and corporate blandness. I chewed it with a thoughtful look.

“Are all of those boxes stolen things?” He asked.

“I told you that they are,” I said. “What? I’m a wizard from another dimension. You expect me to get a job to pay for things? Nu-huh. Your Eureka literally prints things into existence. The only reason this isn’t a utopia where everyone has infinite food and infinite money is because this is a loop stuck on a really stupid narrative track.”

Charles pursed his lips.

I offered him another candy bar.

“Eat the candy Charles, I know you want to,” I said, wiggling the Crunchy Bar in front of his face.

“No,” he crossed his arms. “If I eat that, I’ll be an accomplice to your interdimensional crimes.”

“You know, what?” I said as I chewed. “You’re being very stubborn right now. If you don’t want my friendship, you can go back to being a corporate drone.”

Charles stared at me with a mix of frustration and uncertainty. He opened his mouth as if to argue further, then closed it again, shaking his head.

"Fine," he finally said. "I'll take the damn candy bar."

I grinned and handed him a Crunchy Bar. He unwrapped it slowly, still looking conflicted.

"This doesn't mean I'm on board with everything you've said," Charles clarified. "I'm just... considering my options."

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Consider away. Ask pertinent questions.”

Charles shoved the Crunchy Bar into this mouth and started chewing, sending crumbs flying all over my lovely cardboard and tape covered floor.

“What would happen to me?” He asked. “Had you never showed up here, not derailed my life… what happened to my previous copies?”

“From what I understand,” I said. “This is the newest layer of Eureka printed into existence. After all of this stuff is made… it runs for a while and then decay seeps in through the holes and cracks. The Dead Zone gets into everywhere and eventually everyone here… dies horribly. Except for you. You end up roaming across whatever remains of civilization all alone.”

“How long of a while?” Charles demanded. “How long does all of this last?”

He waved a hand at the flying cars and crowds of people below.

“I dunno,” I shrugged.

“Did nobody notice that you stole all of this stuff?” Charles eyed my box-pile. “Don’t machines keep track of it all? Surely they do.”

“There were police cruisers buzzing around here for a bit,” I shrugged. “But they gave up. This entire billboard is covered by an invisibility hex, a magical resonance pulse that redirects all eyes away from it.”

“Even machine eyes?” Charles arched an eyebrow. “Even cameras?”

“All eyes,” I said.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Charles said. “How does that even work?”

“Information gets skewered away on a conceptual level by a standing magical wave,” I said. “All information from all devices.”

“Sooooo do police cameras just see static or do they just see right through the billboard as if it’s not there at all?” Charles demanded.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “What do you want me to do, to steal a camera and try to photograph the billboard?”

Charles frowned, looking unconvinced. "I think you're underestimating supermassive overseer GLMs that run the city warehouses. They're not as stupid as you seem to think. They log everything, process it and act upon it. There are probably ways they could detect anomalies even if they can't directly see through your magic.”

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But the point is moot. They can't see or detect magic, period. That's my advantage. What are they going to do? They can’t see me. Nobody can see me, except for you because I want you to see me and…”

Charles opened his mouth to argue further, but suddenly his eyes widened as he looked past me. "Uh, Yulia? There's a man down there staring right at us."

I spun around, following his gaze down to street level.

Sure enough, a tall figure in a wide-brimmed hat, long, dark coat and round glasses was standing perfectly still, head tilted up toward our billboard perch. His gaze was boring into my soul with an unnerving, inhuman intensity. A white pin with a dark capital letter [G] was pinned to his black tie and a wide smile was plastered on his face, white teeth glinting in the morning light.

There was something wrong with that smile, something uncanny about it that instantly gave me the heebie jeebies that slowly grew into absolute existential dread.

“Shit,” I choked taking a step back just as the man took a step forward to my billboard.