Wendy was concerned; however, her boss wasn’t, so was it really her place as his underling to voice her doubts? Some people would say yes, but those people didn’t know what it was like to work under Sam. As a mind reader, the things she should do were always pretty clear to Wendy; if she didn’t know what was expected of her, she could always read her target’s mind to meet their expectations. With a boss like Sam, reading his mind could result in the end of Wendy’s sanity, so she had to refrain from doing so.
“What’s up?” Sam asked, turning his head to look at Wendy, who was overtly staring at him. “You look like you want to say something.”
Since Sam had asked, it wouldn’t hurt to voice her concerns, right? Wendy pointed at the wall behind Sam where dozens of strange biological entities were strung up. It was hard to say what domain of life they belonged to, but whatever they could be classified as, they definitely weren’t fauna of Oterra. “I’ve been trying to ignore them,” Wendy said, “but their thoughts are really loud, and although I can’t understand the words they’re using, the meaning is pretty clear. They’re hostile and aggressive, and if they ever get loose, violent actions will be the first thing they do.”
“That’s understandable,” Sam said, turning his head to look at the calamities he had captured, some personally and some with the help of the blue avians. “We did treat them poorly after they arrived.”
Wendy reflected on Sam’s actions this past week. He was always present when the explorers, who used to be called test subjects, went to record scenes from the higher dimension. Occasionally, a biological entity would appear, only to be instantly clobbered and restrained by Sam’s or the blue avians’ telekinesis. With such a rude welcome to Oterra, it really was no surprise the calamities were hostile and fuming.
“You don’t have to worry,” Sam said and gestured towards the corner of the room where two blue avians were sitting, a table with a boardgame on it separating them. “Those two are more than enough to handle any calamity that comes along.”
Wendy turned her head to follow Sam’s gesture. She watched as the game pieces were moved about via telekinesis. They had doll joints, giving their limbs a human’s full range of motion. With tiny swords and shields in their hands, they fought one another, all of the pieces moving at the same time. Wendy wasn’t sure how fine one’s control of telekinesis had to be to manipulate over sixteen puppets at the same time, but she knew she’d lose if she ever played against a blue avian. In fact, she wouldn’t even be able to start since telekinesis remained out of her reach, but she was working on it, toiling away ever so slowly on unlocking the chakras required to learn the technique.
“If you’re still worried, I can always assign someone else your task,” Sam said.
“No, that’s alright,” Wendy said. How embarrassing would it be for her to be reassigned? She had always completed her tasks, most of the times to perfection. “I was just thinking about how troublesome it’d be if they were set free. One calamity was enough to threaten humanity’s continued existence, and there’s over a few dozen of them here. If anything happens to you or the blue avians, Oterra would be in dire straits.”
“That’s true,” Sam said, “but it’s not something you have to worry about. Before I leave, I’ll make sure these little guys are wiped off this plane of existence.”
“You’re going somewhere?” Wendy asked.
“Perhaps,” Sam said. “Haven’t you ever wondered what the purpose of these experiments were for? Once we learn more about the higher dimension, I plan on going up there myself.”
Wendy took another look at the strung-up calamities. There must’ve been a lot of those creatures in the higher dimension, and Sam wanted to enter a place like that. “Truth be told,” Wendy said, “I thought the purpose of these experiments was to make money.” Wasn’t making money the focus of most companies? Extracting resources from the higher dimension would definitely make someone a fortune if they could pull something useful out of it.
“There are better ways to make money,” Sam said and picked up a device that looked like a medieval instrument of torture. It was smooth and glossy, which wasn’t a surprise considering it was made out of a piece of jade, but it looked far from elegant with its wicked points and hooks. Sam walked over to one of the calamities, and, without ceremony, stabbed the device into the calamity’s fleshy body, causing it to squeal like an injured rabbit.
Wendy watched as the calamity shriveled up, letting out whimpers and gasps, its flesh shrinking as its skin tightened against its innards, the outlines of its bones appearing. The jade, which had been more white than green, darkened until it was a rich emerald color. As the calamity’s movements came to a halt, Sam retrieved the gruesome instrument; surprisingly, there weren’t any holes or signs of injury on what was left of the calamity’s wrinkled husk. Under the frightened and angry gazes of the rest of the calamities, Sam placed the deep-green piece of jade onto a crystalline counter, one that had been created by Werchbite earlier in the morning.
Ripples of light were given off the jade instrument and absorbed by the counter, causing the surface to glow with a faint light. Underneath the counter, there was a large piece of amethyst in the shape of a helmet, and the light from the counter dimmed as the amethyst turned a darker shade of purple. When the jade instrument returned to its pale-white color, the counter stopped operating, and there was a clicking sound as the amethyst helmet was released and shifted to the forefront, readily available to grab.
Sam grabbed the helmet and walked over to a chair not too far away from the blue avians. He stared at the helmet and asked inside his head, “All I have to do is put it on?”
“That’s right,” Vercedei said, answering for Werchbite. “Werchbite would like to remind you once again of the risks of using the helmet. You’ll be able to experience everything the calamity has experienced, but you’re still a lower-dimensional being. There’s always the possibility you’ll go insane from being unable to comprehend that calamity’s life experiences.”
Sam hesitated before lifting the helmet up, positioning it over his head. He survived the Mother’s technique which made him live for over a trillion lifetimes. He was a dimension crosser, someone who could remain sane after stepping through another dimension. If he wanted to sublimate himself and become a higher-dimensional being, then he’d have to pass through a simple trial like experiencing life in the higher dimension. With his determination at its peak, Sam placed the helmet on his head and formed a connection with it via his Sahasrara.
Wendy glanced at the electronic screen, making sure the test subjects in the other room were doing fine, before turning her full attention onto Sam. The helmet covered his whole head, making it look like a purple sphere was perched atop a person’s neck. If he was experiencing anything remotely similar to the test subjects, it was possible a calamity would be summoned. Luckily, the two blue avians came to the same conclusion and were watching Sam rather than playing with their boardgame.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Unlike with Sam, Wendy had no qualms about reading the blue avians’ minds. She violated their privacy to see what they were thinking. She might not know much about what Sam was doing, but the blue avians were certainly more experienced, and if they had any anxious thoughts or morbid concerns, then Wendy would be the first person out of the room.
“Do you think he’ll still be sane once he takes that thing off?” one of the blue avians asked the other in what they thought was a private mental connection.
“Probably,” the second blue avian said. “If he isn’t, the Mother will handle him, right?”
“It’s hard to believe he’s so strong for a human,” the first blue avian said and nodded. “If he does go insane, it’ll be up to the Mother to stop him. I tried to mess with his telekinetic control once to see if I could, but I didn’t even get his aura to budge.”
“So…, do you want to get back to our game?” the second blue avian asked. “There’s nothing for us to do even if something goes wrong.”
“You’re right,” the first blue avian said, “but how about we start over?”
“Just because you’re losing?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, that’s fine. You’ll just lose again.”
“No, I won’t. You will.”
Wendy somehow doubted Sam’s earlier words. Would these two blue avians really take care of any mess that appeared? If the calamities strung up on the wall struggled free because Sam was distracted by the helmet obscuring his whole head, was Wendy really going to count on these child-like beings to save her? As Wendy was plotting her escape route in her mind, Sam’s arms moved, grasping around in various directions, making her unsure what exactly he was trying to do. If the helmet could transfer the knowledge and experiences of the calamity into Sam’s mind, she thought it was pretty stupid for it not to prohibit Sam’s body from moving as well while his mind was elsewhere. What if he hurt himself?
Sam’s body jerked forward, and he fell out of his chair, the helmet hitting the ground with a loud clunking sound. If that were his skull, Wendy would’ve placed her bet on him receiving a concussion, but she wasn’t sure how strong the defensive properties of the amethyst helmet were. Wendy turned to look at the two blue avians, and both of them were staring at Sam as his arms and legs bent and unbent as if he were a turtle flipped on its back. Then, they both turned their focus back onto the gameboard where the fallen pieces rose up to wield their weapons on the battlefield once more.
Wendy frowned, but she decided to leave Sam as he was. If she tried to help him by removing his helmet, it was always possible she’d be interrupting him at a crucial time. Sam hadn’t asked for assistance, and he had his familiars to take care of him, so Wendy’s best course of action was to ignore him despite his floundering. Speaking of Sam’s familiars, after he fell out of the chair, they vacated his body and gathered around at a safe distance, save for Manga, who had been standing in the corner of the room with Dirt the metallic koala on its back.
“Sam will be fine, right?” Raindu asked. The ferret took a step back as Sam’s feet kicked in its direction. “Should we take the helmet off just in case? What if he’s trying to remove it right now but can’t control his limbs properly?”
“Sam endured living a trillion lifetimes,” the Mother said. “That’s not too far off from living as a higher dimensional being.” The octopus inflated and floated in the air over Sam, drifting back and forth to look at him from different angles. “However, even if it’s similar, it’s not exactly the same.”
“Sam’s concept of time is different from ours,” Vercedei said. “It’s not something that can be so easily overcome by making him live over and over again. It’s already good enough he can cross dimensions without losing his sense of self, but if he keeps this up, who knows what’ll happen to his mind?”
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Birdbrained asked, pointing a scruffy wing at the Mother. “This is your way of killing Sam to get rid of us.”
The Mother shrugged, two of its tentacles raising and dropping. “I planned this, yes,” she said, “but this wasn’t the result I wanted. I thought Sam could grow into something great, but if he can’t even handle the life experiences of a pest, then, maybe, it’s for the best if he loses his sanity here.”
“Heartless!” Birdbrained said. The eagle squawked and added, “Cruel!”
“Some seeds germinate, and some don’t,” the Mother said. “Even if you take care of them and nurture them, there’s always the chance they won’t grow the way you want. It’s not cruel nor heartless to abort an undesired result.”
“He didn’t have to walk on this path,” Joe the sloth said as it continued crawling away from Sam’s body, occasionally getting kicked and smacked by Sam’s flailing limbs, “but you made him.”
“I didn’t make anyone do anything,” the Mother said. “I expanded Sam’s options, and he chose for himself.”
“Expanded the number of ways Sam could choose to die is more like it,” Vercedei said. “Let’s get this helmet off of him before he actually kicks the bucket.”
“What if he’s experiencing something important right now?” Raindu asked. “If we suddenly terminate the connection—”
The ferret didn’t get to finish its sentence before an earthen hand grew out of the floor and pried the helmet off of Sam’s head, breaking the tiles in the process. Sam’s body stopped jerking about, and he fell limp against the ground. All the familiars turned to look at the metallic koala. Dirt let out a snort and said, “It didn’t look like he could take the helmet off himself, so I took it off for him.”
“That’s not the problem,” Raindu said. “What if he was in the middle of something important?” The ferret ran over to Sam’s side and placed its paws on Sam’s neck, checking for a pulse.
“He can repeat it,” Dirt said.
Sam’s eyes shot open, but he remained lying on the ground with his cheek pressed against a pile of dirt.
“Sam?” Raindu asked, withdrawing its paws and taking a few steps back. “Are you alright?”
“Give him a second,” Vercedei said. “He might not know where he is.”
The familiars kept their distance, scrutinizing Sam despite his lack of movements. Wendy looked at Sam, but thanks to Werchbite’s illusion, she couldn’t see most of the animals surrounding him as if they were taking part in a sacrificial ritual. Since she wasn’t sure what to do, Wendy chose to peek into the blue avians’ minds to obtain a hint.
If I go there, then they’ll go there, but if I attack their flank like so….
Hah, they’re falling for another trap. Why are they so stupid?
They were still more preoccupied with their game than reality, and to Wendy, it seemed like they hadn’t noticed Sam’s collapsed body at all. Well, if they were only there to deal with calamities that spawned, then Sam’s health really wasn’t any of their concern. Wendy squinted at Sam, the thought of reading his mind briefly flitting to the surface of her brain. However, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know the thoughts of someone who might’ve seen something so disturbing they turned crazy.
“I’m alright,” Sam said. His torso rose off the ground without any input from his arms or legs. Then, he immediately fell forward face first back onto the smushed pile of dirt. His expression remained neutral, and he spoke to his familiars using his mind. “Give me a second to remember how this body works.”
“What was it like?” Vercedei asked. “Did you enjoy your first experience of the higher dimension?”
“Strange,” Sam said as his body twitched, his joints tensing and relaxing starting from his toes and moving up to his head. “It felt like I was a company rather than a person, but I had to perform all the parts myself.” When Sam was done checking the condition of his body, he floated off the ground and sat up straight in the air, crossing his legs with his ankles resting on his thighs. “Everything is … always happening at the same time, and it gets hard to keep track of things.”
“That’s a good way to describe it,” Raindu said. “We’re everywhere all at once doing everything there is to do.”
If Wendy had chosen to eavesdrop on Sam’s mind, she would not have agreed with Raindu’s assessment and would’ve thought she was correct earlier to assume Sam had gone crazy. Luckily, for both of them, Wendy left Sam’s mind alone with the help of some other distractions. “Sam,” Wendy said. “Blue avians.”
Sam and the two blue avians focused their All-Seeing Gazes on the other room. Root-like protrusions were growing through it as if the walls were made of fabric and the roots were stringed needles. Sam let out a sigh. “You two take care of it,” he said, speaking telepathically towards the blue avians.
One of the blue avians glared at Sam. “That lazy piece of—”
“Hush! The Mother’s still with him.”